What I mean to say is...

Sometimes I know exactly what I'm talking about, and it makes perfect sense to me...but the person on the other side of the conversation is left in the dark. It's not because of my superior mental prowess or due to my extensive and scholarly learning. No, no. It's because I mean something completely different from what I'm saying.

One time I got into an argument with my brother Daniel about snow leopards. I was trying to explain to him that they live in Antarctica, eat little penguins and they are really, really scary. He said he was pretty sure they lived in the Himalayas and don't swim much at all. "No, you're wrong!" I told him until I was blue in the face. "I read a book about them, and haven't you seen Happy Feet?" I contended. (Just so you know I can be particularly pugnacious when I know/think I am right about something. So can he.) I knew I was right: They can be up to 14 feet long, they are lethal in the water but retarded on land, they sometimes eat people and attack through the ice. I held my ground until he pulled up a picture of a snow leopard on the internet.

OH. Maybe I meant leopard seal.

This also happened once when I was explaining to someone that capital punishment is still legal in Indiana schools.

Of course, what I meant to say is corporal punishment!

What I mean to say is...it will never hurt my feelings if you ask for clarification when I say something completely crazy. Chances are I meant something else.

BYRCE

Did anyone else notice I was spelling my husbands name wrong on my blog for over a month?
I am married to Bryce, not Byrce.
Like I said, my brain is missing. Now let's add that I forgot how to read too.

I had to sleep topless

This is the story of how I am losing my mind (Not slowly. All at once.) in three examples.


Example A: On Saturday I was at Walmart and I happened to walk down the Oreo isle. I passed the white ones, and they didn't tempt me. I walked by the blue ones, and I almost reached out for a package. "No," I told myself. Despite their bright, alluring color they still taste just like the white ones. I held back. Just a side note, I don't know what it is about colored Oreos, but they look so much better to me. Marketing genius! Then I moved past the green ones...ooh, GREEN? That looks exciting, I wonder what those taste like. Here is the part where my brain went missing. I read on the packaging that they are mint flavored. I was floored. Mint with chocolate? Whoever came up with that!? What would that even taste like? I could not wrap my mind around it. I was so intrigued with this mint chocolate idea I bought them and puzzled about it all the way home. When I got home I ripped open the package, and guess what this absurd cookie tasted like....



MINT CHOCOLATE. as in mint chocolate chip ice cream. thin mints. grasshopper cookies. Oops. Seriously though, I was so confused.



Example B: Earlier this week I finished painting my bedroom. yes, it looks lovely and I will post pictures later. Anyway as I was putting all the outlet covers back onto the wall I noticed I had completely painted over one of the outlets. I got most of it off, but there was even some paint in the socket. So what did I do? I picked up a flat head screw driver and proceeded to stick it directly into the socket. Right before jamming it in, some sort of flicker passed through my mind. Wait a second, what's that I've heard about putting metal objects into electrical sockets? Or was it just paper clips? I can't remember...



Just as a refresher, you are not supposed to stick metal objects in live electrical sockets. You can get shocked, resulting in deionization of bodily fluids, internal and external burns, possible interference with nervous system, and possible paralysis and involuntary muscle spasms. Oh yeah, did I mention my hands were wet at the time too?



I didn't remember all of this at the time. Good thing my screw driver had a rubber handle.



Example C: On Monday I celebrated my first day of summer by spending it at the pool with my friend Courtney and her kids. We had great fun. We splashed and played in the water for about 4 hours, except for the 25 or so minutes I fell asleep on my chair.



When I got in the car I noticed my skin was dry and itchy and when I got home it became apparent that I had a serious, SERIOUS sunburn. I am a fair-skinned individual. I do not tan, not ever and it only takes about 5 minutes in the sun for my cheeks to turn bright pink. I was mad about the searing pain creeping up my back and shoulders and as a grabbed for the aftersun aloe lotion I said to Bryce, "I wish I could have somehow not gotten a sunburn!"

His smart reply was "Did you even put on sunscreen?"



WHAT? Sunscreen! Why didn't I think of that? How come I don't know about the magic cream that allows white girls like me to sit in the sun and not turn bright red? I am usually queen of the SPF 45. How did I forget?



This is my burnt to a crip back three days later. I had to sleep topless without anything touching my back every night since.


If any one sees a teenie tiny brain running around, please tell it to come back to me. Mine's missing.