A Prayer and Ponder

First, a short prayer—

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change

Like the fact that Mulder and Scully will probably not be doing anything naked together in the X-Files sequel.

the courage to change the things I can,

Put “get work visa for Canada” on list of things to do so I can get added to the cast and/or crew of the X-Files sequel. I’m thinking anything to do with rubbing Duchovny’s shoulders would be an important and worthwhile job.

and the wisdom to not look at the spoiler folder at the Haven


I can’t explain the temptation to you, but I’m pretty sure this is what a crack addiction is like (well, you know, except for the fact that it isn’t illegal, doesn’t cost me money and probably wont kill me). All I really know is that I can’t even go over there anymore because if I see a hint of something like “set video” my hands start to shake with the temptation of it all. I must resist. I must…. Oooh, was that … no, no, no, I won’t look.

Yep, pretty much proof that I need to get a life.

And now, a “ponder” on that “getting a life” topic.

The surest way to put fear in my heart is to tell me that you want to set me up with a guy who is just like me. It’s not that I’m not open to dating (open, open, open), but the “just like me” part is of grave concern.

Frankly, I wouldn’t want to date me. Seriously, I’ve been alone quite a while now. I’m used to doing what I want, when I want to do it. I’m a hermit. I avoid social interaction (and yet, I’m still totally open, open, open to dating—really open—people are in awe of my open-like qualities 😉 ). I’m a workaholic. And let’s not forget that I resemble a weeble—an adorable weeble, but a weeble nonetheless.

So, I’m trying to picture a guy just like me. He’s hiding in his apartment. He’s getting ready to cry through another episode of American Idol (damn those heart warming stories) and then go to sleep because he’ll be up at dawn for work. Rinse. Repeat.

I would annoy me.

Honestly, guy-Kate and I will make the news because we’ll kill each other. I mean, we’ll wait until the commercials come on so as not to interrupt the show, but we’ll definitely kill each other.

Do you want that on your conscience?

You do?

Alrighty, bring him on. But if he tries to put on my Jimmy Choos, I’m out.


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