THIS POST IS COMING TO YOU AT 1:oo AM. Because I am cool like that, and I couldn’t post about April Fools Day until it was officially April Fools. (Why do I keep typing April FOol’s with wrong capitalization?)

So…to entertain you on April Fools (I can’t stop), here is a little guessing game. I’m going to name which things may or may not be true about me lately. Your job is to comment and decide which are true, and I’ll disclose the answers in other posts, with details.

Number 1: “Pooping in the pool is NOT cool” is a sign I had the pleasure of viewing recently.

Number 2: I may be writing a post about the “number two” and yes by number two, I do mean poop.

Number 3: I’m notorious for saying things that I don’t mean.

Number 4: I’m engaged!

Number 5: I sang the Wizard of Oz song “Dun nun Dun Nun dun na na na na dunna dunna na nun!” to make a point lately.

Number 6: I have a favorite TV Show that I watch as often as I can.

Number 7: I have an ever-constant fear of being abducted by someone hiding in my stairwell.

Number 8: I lost twenty bucks recently and still haven’t gotten over it.

Number 9: I signed up for college and start classes on May 6th. My Birthday is on the 2nd. Happy Birthday to me – math classes! Oh joy!

Number 10: I am an obsessive blog stalker and I check for comments all the time.

To be truthful, a lot of you already know these answers. That is because I have a big mouth. But I don’t mind, I’d love your comments anyway (shoot, that just about gave away number 10)!

MUSINGS OF MO IS PROUD TO INTRODUCE TO YOU MADE ME LAUGH MONDAY! I’ll be posting funny things I’ve found throughout the week, along with images, links and my own personal commentary. Why am I doing this? Because we all know Mondays suck. Because I need a laugh when I’m tired and stressed about starting a new week. Do I really need to give you any more reasons? Ready, set go!

Don’t Mess With My Meal

Man fires at McDonald’s window over breakfast menu – This one is mainly funny because no one got hurt. But seriously? Did they really get that mad because they couldn’t order a Big Mac at three in the morning? Add to the fact that they had a sawed-off shotgun they used to blow out the drive through window, and it’s almost too much for me.

Did this remind anyone else of the lady that called the cops because Burger King wouldn’t make her Western Bacon Burger the right way?

I LOVE FUNNY CONVERSATIONS LIKE THIS that happen on a daily basis between me and my Dale.

“Have you posted on your website today? What was it about?”

“I’ve started a few drafts but I haven’t posted them. I don’t remember what they were about though.”

“You don’t know?”

“To be honest, they were probably about something pathetically lame, that I made into a huge deal. That’s all anything on my blog is now days – just random crap.”

“Well, it’s not a bad thing if you like to write and impress yourself.”

*silence* “Did you just say ‘write and IMPRESS’ myself?”

“No. I said express yourself. But impress yourself works.”

I am so self centered sometimes.

I’M FEELING RATHER TWILIGHTISH LATELY. It seems like since the movie came out on DVD, I can’t stop thinking, feeling, and acting out Twilight like I’m a twelve year old girl with my first crush.

Case in point: when my stylist asked which color I’d like my hair dyed, the first thing out of my mouth was “Have you seen Bella in Twilight?” (Yes, I just admitted that I dyed my hair after a fictional character – with pic number 3 as my motivation. Don’t hate!). My stylist has to be the first and only person I know that hasn’t even heard about the movie. I didn’t know how to react to this.

I stayed up late on Tuesday watching Twilight with Ashley and our friend Megan, who had never seen it. She said she dreamed of Edward afterwards, a fact that I am completely jealous of.

I’ve stayed up late every other night reading snippets of all four books and restarting Midnight Sun. I have the soundtrack playing on repeat in my car. I’d forgotten just how captivating a fictional, sparkling, pea coat-wearing vampire can be. I’m falling for Edward all over again, much to Dale’s dismay. He still hasn’t seen the movie – so I went three times to the theatre by myself. I’m OK with this. Part of me wants to keep it from him anyway, as my own personal retreat. Besides, while I can turn my head when Edward is part lemur, can force myself to look away while he sparkles with SOUND EFFECTS, and I can definitely pretend to be deaf while they throw around lines like “Butt-crack Santa”…I know any one of these will send Dale into fits. Since he does not know the epic awesomeness that is Book Edward, I won’t be able to describe to him why it’s acceptable that every conversation is so TENSE (It’s the fluorescence).

Our conversation about Twilight went about like this:

“I should see that movie.”

“No you shouldn’t, you’ll make fun of me for life.”

“Doesn’t it have that one chick in it?” As opposed to…other chicks?

“You mean the one with buck teeth? Yup.”

“And that guy ‘Edward‘ or whatever that everyone obsesses about?”

I try to hide my screen saver at this point, but it was too late.

“You mean he’s on your DESKTOP daily?” Commence laughter.

“Don’t hate. His pea-coat is HOTT!!”

“I have a pea-coat.”

“You should wear it. But you have to pop the collar a little.”

“. . .pop. . .the collar. . .like a pretty boy?”

And that statement my dear, is why you are not allowed to watch my movie. But since you allowed me to spend thirty minutes while your favorite show was playing to introduce you to those said lame parts, I believe you now could handle the rest of the movie. I am even more proud however, that you think you should still watch it after seeing all the parts that make everyone wonder what Catherine Hardwicke was thinking.

And lastly, Twilight is getting in the way of my everyday life again. My schedule from this week was as follows.

Monday-Friday: Watch Twilight three times. Stay up until 1AM each night enthralled with  YouTube interviews, pictures from the movie and blog posts from my fave Twilight sites.

Saturday: Get home at 11:oo AM. Read some of Breaking Dawn, obsessively check for blog posts.

Sunday: 10:00AM: Wake up, put in Twilight and tell the online community that I will be MAI for the next few hours.

10:30AM: Scavenge in my kitchen for fast foods. Find string cheese, an unopened root beer and a half eaten bag of Nutter Butters. Great breakfast!

11:ooAM: Convince mom to take my dog home with her for a few hours so I can keep watching uninterrupted.

2:30PM: Still watching Twilight and may/may not have put off lunch with the boyfriend because of this. I’ve now paused the movie, to compare each scene to the Breaking Dawn and Twilight books.

5:00PM: Decide I should probably get dressed (not that I was nakie. I’m never nakie, remember?).  I trade my boy shorts for the Pants of Awesomeness. I’ve now worn them Wednesday night, Thursday night, all day Friday and Saturday, and again on Sunday. Siiiick I know. But Rob Pattinson doesn’t wash his hair for months. Not washing pants for a week=acceptable. Plus it was only fitting, since I hadn’t washed my hair today either.

5:30PM: Go to parents house so Mom can cook me food (thanks Mom, you rock!). Hang out, fight with the sister about our upcoming vacation (and NO Machelle, for the last time. I am not cutting my vacation short just so I can have you back in time for your concert. Unless it’s Rob Pattinson or Panic! At the Disco or someone equally as cool).  Spend the whole time wishing my parents had wireless and that I would’ve brought my laptop so I can blog/stalk people.

7:00PM: Dale comes over. I show him lame Edward moments (mentioned above). We watch shows of people getting eaten by sharks. How exciting! Except for the fact that it was about an hour and a half too long. They should’ve just said “Our ship got bombed. It sunk, so we jumped out. Dead people were everywhere. We were hungry, tired, sick, hurt, blah blah blah and so we panicked, and the sharks attacked us. It was scary. The end.”

11:00PM: Dale goes home. I jump online. Write this post. I know its not too fanfreakingtastic, but I’m in a hurry. Edward McHotness Twilight is waiting for me.

I DO FUNNY THINGS WHEN I HAVEN’T SLEPT. A few months ago, my little sister Machelle slept over and wound up crashing on the couch. I threw a blanket over her and didn’t give it a second thought when I went to bed. I closed my door and jumped under the covers and BAM! I was right off into dream land. So much so was the depth of my sleep, that when my bedroom door flew open and I saw a silhouette with big hair standing over me, I sat straight up in bed, clasped my blankets to my chest and horrified, asked, “Who are you?!”

This has now become the joke of the family. We can’t get through a conversation without one of us looking suddenly panicked and saying “who are you?” at least five times. Good thing I’m not above making fun of myself. I’ll happily imitate this if you’d like since there is no way to explain the hilarity of the voice I said it in. Think Belle from Beauty and the Beast, in that high pitched, I’m-such-a-helpless-woman-so-someone-please-save-me voice.

Nightmares are pretty common for me, I’m lucky if I don’t have one. This is by no fault other then my own; I’ve seen almost every horror movie there is to be seen. I’m completely horrified, and fascinated at the same time. I hate when I watch them, but I love it. No I hate it. Gah! I can’t decide. The other day I had a nightmare that my Grams had died. Now that there is a scary dream, I really don’t want to be the one to find her. Talk about gruesome.

She told me the other day that when she died, she has  DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) on her medical information papers, and in her will. I told her I’d just pretend that I didn’t ever hear her say that. . .to which she said, “That’s fine, because if you don’t listen I’ll just come back and haunt your ass”.  Yup, that’s a direct quote from my 80 year old grandmothers’ mouth.

So, fast forward to this week.

I may or may not have been staying up extremely late  each night stalking reading other people’s blogs. I am a blog stalker, I check for new posts on my favorite sites at least twice a day. I love your posts so much I’d rather stay up laughing until one in the morning than get some serious zzz’s.

So Thursday- when I hadn’t had more than five hours of sleep per night I woke up an hour late, and had to scramble to get ready on time. You have no idea how proud I was when I went to walk out the door and I was only five minutes behind my normal schedule. I double checked everything one last time and that’s when I noticed that the clock says 7:05 instead of 8:05. Boy my eyes must be tired if I’m seeing that.

And then it hits me.

I wasn’t an hour late, I was an hour early.