Somtimes my awkwardness far exceeds that of normal human beings.
...that being said, I'd probably be at home with the Dynamite family.
...or...perhaps that many awkward people in cose proximity to one another is a dreadful mistake.
Awkward.
...and then I wonder if they're attractive because they're famous, or because they actually just so happen to posses facial features and bone srutcure that society deems pleasing to the eye.
...then I think about how many regular Joe's I know, or have seen at the grocery store, or see in the cars passing me on the road.
...and there is a serious lack of hottness.
...so I deduce that fame instanly tranforms you into a Greek God.
Awkward.
Sometimes I waste hours on this blog, feel proud of my deep, clever, or pointless posts, and publish them.
...and then I'll check in couple days to read the feedback of my oh so faithful imaginary readers.
...and, as usual, they have left imainary comments for me to enjoy.
...but then I look at other blogs, who's authors publish only once every millenia.
...and they have probably eight gazillion followers and comments per post.
Awkward.
Sometimes I sub in Primary.
...and I just so happen to love it!!!
...yesterday the talkative little boy sitting next to me looked up at the pictures of the temples on the board and then asked me, "Whih of those temples were YOU married in?"
...I smiled and told him that I wasn't married in any of those temples.
...in fact, I wasn't married at all.
...he quickly responded, "But you're a grown up! Don't you have a husband and kids?"
...I reassured him that I did not.
..."But-" he persisted, "But ALL grown ups are married!"
... laughed and said, "Well, not me! I've still got plenty of time."
...and do you know what he said?
.
.
.
.
"Awkward".
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