Literacy Is Overrated

I am pretty sure there will be mixed reviews from this post, both those cheering to hear the end of the quasi juicy story, those who, like myself, enjoy a good tell all blog. But on the other hand, I am waiting for the barrage of booing from those who wished I used a little more decorum in my blog. So in an effort to appease both parties, I will try and tell this story as classily as I possibly can, and then, no matter the outcome, it is over.

So, remember the guy who stood me up on Monday. He finally called me yesterday. After awkward small talk, he then said, “Sorry we couldn’t meet up on Monday night.” A hundred thought ran through my head. Trying to decide whether to yell, cry or just laugh, I chickened out and said, “Well, you know, those kinds of things happen.”

When I asked what he had been so busy doing, he said, “Trying to catch up on my reading. There are just so many books that I have been putting off reading that I thought I should at least try and start.”

My mouth fell open for a few minutes. Books. Books! You chose reading over me?!? But I instead, through gritted teeth, said, “I understand, I still have to finish Gone With The Wind.”

We talked for only a little longer, and then he suggested we get together this week, and promised to call, “once he got his week a little more organized.” I won’t be surprised if he doesn’t call.

Now, I am sure some of you are defending my literate friend. But I am of the opinion that a real person trumps any TV show, video game, text message or even book. If given the chance to associate with a girl as great as me, shouldn’t you take that chance?

At this point, I am almost wishing he would just forget my phone number.

Moving on.

The rest of the weekend went by much too quickly. We went to Calgary on Saturday to realize that Tawny is no longer our little puppy anymore. Just like cats, surprisingly, time is what turns puppies into dogs. But she is still just as fun; just as crazy, curious and excited.

Sunday, what is now the busiest day of every week, our Ward Counsel ended up at the Bishop’s house where I impressed his four-year-old granddaughter with my French knowledge. This little girl, at the age of four, is already in French Immersion classes, and knows about as much conversational French as I learned in my nine years of French!

It is hard to believe that it is already the middle of September. Time marches on whether I want it to or not. Hoping for spectacular things in October, I guess.

Just keep doing what you’re doing!

As Always,