Half a score

Do you remember that little segment they'd do on sesame Street (I'm fairly sure it was Sesame Street though I guess there's a chance it was The Electric Company) with the ball and the numbers, where it would keep going and they'd sing the numbers? One, two three Four Five, six seven, eight Nine, Ten, eleven tweeeeelve, eeelve, TWELVE! It doesn't really work as a description unless I'm actually singing it. I used to love that. They'd do it for different numbers, never higher than twelve (which was my favourite since it was the highest). Ahh good times. I watched Sesame Street until I was almost nine for no better reason than there wasn't much children's programming back then. When I moved to Canada, there was that monkey and bear who spoke French. That was cool. I was thinking about that, (yes there was an instigator behind this rambling), because this is my tenth post and all I could think of when I realised that was teeeeeen eeeeen TEN. This is why I didn't get A's in university. My brain is full. It's all crammed up with bits from Sesame Street and the plots from all the sci-fi I read. Perfectly good space being taken up by fake-science instead of homework-science.

I started writing in here knowing my readership of two. Still, I tried to pretend they didn't exist because if I didn't I'd have to write for them, wouldn't I? I mean, it would only be polite to cater to my audience. This medium seems so strange and artificial. I'm not as candid and open as I could be because I know that other people could read it, (and at least one person has), and I don't exactly write for my readers even though I know who they are. See, I can't write whatever I want in case I get found out somehow. I know I could make this private, in fact I had a short lived private journal for a while, but knowing that people could read this, strangers as well as the terrific two, gives me a little incentive to update. So whatever. I write as though I'm writing to the world, as though I'm writing for myself and as though I'm writing for aunties who are eaves-dropping through an open window. It's weird but hey, I never did hit ten posts with my private online journal so I guess I'll see how long this lasts. I'm fickle though so I can't say as I expect much.

Oh, before I got distracted, I was going to write about dehydration. I'm very thirsty right now but I don't think I'll actually do something about it. Yes, I am weird.