These things happened.

I became unreasonably pissed off that Booth and Brennan did it (had sex) on Bones (Yes, the TV show) but we did not get to see this happen and only hear about it later in conversation. I like that they finally had sex, but I was upset that they didn't show any details! After focusing on this for several days, I realized, I am a crazy person! It is just a damn TV show.

And then I gave myself a lecture on how television is stupid, though very entertaining, but it is absolutely pathetic to take it personally, and only a crazy person would let TV become such a part of their life that they take a personal interest in the characters. And then I was fine, and I watched another new episode with interest but no inappropriate reactions.

Growth.

I went on a date with BD. I'm apparently on a streak of dating people that have a first name as their last name. (James, Michaels, Daniels, etc). This date went fine because 1) he actually showed up, and 2) it was more of a non-date.

A non-date, a date in which it feels more like two friends hanging out and even though you have the expectation of it being romantic in nature, it really is more of you just lounging in a bar or restaurant rather than at home.

But you still make out. So a date.

Par, par, bogey, bogey, par, par.

Any time I read stories about people found dead in their homes, I start to worry about the future.

They found a B-movie actress in her home, mummified, possibly left unnoticed and forgotten for as much as a year.

Straight out of an episode of Bones.

One day, they will find me, crusty and dry as a piece of jerky, wrapped in a Snuggie.


And while even in death, I would be happy to have Booth standing over my body, the idea of rotting into the couch is gross.

The good news, I always have a gay to take care of me. The bad news, those gays are a fickle lot. However, I'm pretty sure I could con AA and JM into letting me live in their garage. They've made a gay pact (a gact, if you will) to live out their days together should neither find lasting love. Two gays and their matching pugs. I'll even be kind and walk those pugs for them.

My hope is the pugs will look out for me and alert the men to my demise before I can rot into the concrete of the garage. And, added bonus, it will be easier to scrape me off the concrete and easier to air out the garage, which will not detract from the value of the house.

I think this is a very practical attitude.