seven quick takes: confessions

1. It's come to light recently that tattoos aren't as taboo as I once thought and that Mr. B and I are in the minority with not having any.

Confession: I think they are pretty gross and I can't see why someone would want to permanently paint something on his or her body. This is the fickle part of me speaking. I often think that I should tattoo on my wrist where to put my keys when I step inside the front door.

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2. My sister-in-law blogged about being ordinary and I feel I need to make a toast for all those of us who share in her taking pleasure in the ordinary. My favorite professor in college once posed the question about whether we would prefer to have a relationship filled with very high-highs and very low-lows or one where we stayed pretty evenly in the middle. I was the only one to answer that I would prefer the middle ground. 

Confession: Mr. B and I are very happy with our quiet little life and taking pleasure in the ordinary.

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3. We're moving in one week. Holy cow. 

Confession: I'm not ready to leave this little town I've grown to feel at home in.

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4. I married a man who loves his technology. He gets excited about Apple events and talks tech shop with his brothers all the time.

Confession: I hate technology. I let my computer die on a regular basis. I encourage my phone to die on a daily basis. I tell myself I'm shutting down my facebook account hourly. I screen calls from everyone, even friends. It's in my blood and I can't help it. I don't like being available all the time.

Confession, part deux: I am ridiculously dependent on technology. I check my email and facebook way too often. 

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5. I was once called stoic in a very complimentary way. At the time, I wanted Inigo Montoya the compliment-giver with a laugh, but I refrained because I'm a Sto and don't react. 

Confession: While I'm not reacting to you, I'm likely making a witty comment and laughing at it in my head. This isn't the same as laughing at you, but with you, promise. I'm also a recovering addict to sarcasm and keep most comments to myself. I could also be overanalyzing what you said because I'm dramatic like that.

Confession, numero dos: I have a really understanding, saintly husband.

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6. I love my little girls. And I love taking photos. I still haven't taken E's 3-year photos. And she turns four in two months. 

Confession: This mom gig is hard. I'd blame my hate of technology, but let's credit my laziness for this one.

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7. Mr. B's real name is Jack Bauer and because of such, we're making this blog more anon. This was a practice run and it's awkward and stilted, but we'll survive.

Confession: Mr. B isn't really Jack Bauer (#mindblown). He does, however, work for a security-sensitive agency as of the beginning of next month and they've recommended we lose our identities. I'd be upset, but I'm a Sto.