Monday Mimisms ~ Who Would Ghost a Queen?

So THAT's where you're
hiding the candy..
Why am I explaining? Questioning?
Again. My newest non-resolution. Stop explaining.
 Just be.

My days are nuttier than usual. Busier than usual. 
Mostly I'm spinning this one around in a chair 'til she's "Bizzy!" as only a three-year-old can hilariously proclaim, gently fighting with Beans (age 11) about the battles he's "not" fighting in video games when I walk around the corner and hear him declare "victory" over his enemies. 
Can't he just learn to meditate?

Learning to "watch" 
in the doctor's office. Fun times.
Or relentlessly checking the "watched" spot on my back. Watch it? I can't SEE it! So, I've decided not to "watch" it. I told Dr.
Derm that SHE should be the one watching, not me. I will drive myself and the whole Blogosphere crazy if I watch.
You see it, right?

Maybe I should take a picture of it backwards in the mirror and let YOU watch it. Oh, I crack myself up.
All I know is that when I go back in March to see if all this "watching" has produced any crazy results, I shall declare ('cause I'm a Queen) that I'm done with  the eye and body contortion routine. Just take it off. Please. Now. "These take yeeeeaaarrrsss to develop into a problem," she said, "Don't worry."
Then. Why. Are. We. Watching???

Bree "watching" flower roots

She knows how to get to the bottom of things.

Which brings me to my latest sad and silly malady.
I've been ghosted. Ghosted! Me??!
Who would ghost a Queen?

It started out so lovely. Five-hour phone conversations. Morning texts. Goodnight emails. Mutual commonalities and laughter. Then New Year's didn't happen. And I realized that the more I talked to him about my own personal goals and aspirations the less interested he seemed to be in understanding that independent streak in moi. He could have just said what I suspected...that he wanted to be joined at the hip. I can't even FIND my hips.
 Instead. Ghosted.  

I'm going to talk to Baby Boy. Since he's eighteen now soon-to-be majoring in Computer Science, he should know the ways and whys of intraweb romance. 
Or not.
All I know is that he never had any trouble with dating in Kindergarten. Wait...there was that Tiffany girl.....and Amy...oh, and Susie (!) who popped him in the head with a paper airplane. 
Maybe I'd better not ask Baby Boy.

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