Did you guys see Dooce had her baby? Marlo Iris Armstrong. MARLO. I love it. Seems like Leta was just a baby. And clearly I am THIS involved in another blogger's life.
OK, and speaking of social networking, did you guys do the whole "vanity URL" thing on Facebook? I don't get it. Or, I think I do, but... what? How does it work? Like, if my profile is private, but I give out my URL, will my profile be available to everyone? How much of your profile is available to people who are not your friends? Because I'd totally post my URL here, but... no. I don't really want my entire Facebook profile out there in the wide open world.
Some things are PRIVATE, guys!
Says the girl who writes about her entire life on the Internets.
I'm just saying.
Also what I'm saying: everyone on the entire planet is in a relationship. Which, you know, is cool, when you're everyone on the entire planet. Myself excluded. This is not a "waaaaaaaaaah, poor meeeeeeeeeeeeee, whyyyyyyyyy?" paragraph. Just an observation.
Like, a FML observation.
It's sort of become a neat game. I was harmlessly flirting with a college boy the other day. First of all, WHAT THE EFF? WAS I THINKING? Have I no standards? When did I become a cougar?
However, whatever. Who doesn't like to flirt? (CLEARLY).
Anyway, it's all back-and-forth, back-and-forth, harmless flirting. Like a couple kids. (Because he IS a kid, FYI). And then the next day?
"Oh, hey Krista. This is my girlfriend..."
HE INTRODUCED ME TO HIS GIRLFRIEND.
Honest to god.
Good-looking men come into work every day. And the good kind of good-looking men: runners, triathletes... meow. And they always come in with one of two things: their wedding ring or their girlfriend.
Or, and this is my favorite, "Oh, my girlfriend got her last pair of running shoes here and told me I had to come in."
OF COURSE SHE DID. Your girlfriend's probably awesome, hey, do you have a brother?
For real. Good times to be had when you're me. You just wait.