I had visions of masterful Shannon-egans (tasteless pun intended) and skillfully executed jokes today on NKS — you know, something like “I’m going to quit writing my blog,” or “I’m moving China to become a gogo dancer,” or “I’ve shaved my head in a show of solidarity with Britney” — but then I remembered I’m neither masterful nor skillful at executing jokes, so I decided to steer clear of any April Fool’s Day trickery.
Nobody likes to feel the fool anyhow, and no one certainly likes a fool who fools fools.
So let’s just leave it with– nothing has changed: I’m still an old woman in a 26-year-old body (I played Balderdash with friends last night until the “wee hours” of 1am and considered this a rowdy night); When asked if my days of “living in my parents basement were numbered” I replyed “of course. It’s knowing what kind of number that’s the question;” and I spend more money on books per month than rent.
And that’s no joke.