Oh, the shame!

Recently, due to my complete over-excitement about having a job, I have begun to have the urge to use…  god I am so embarrassed… OMG.  And not to be silly, in serious conversations.

I know!  I am so sorry!  I didn’t mean to do it, it was like Darth Vader took control of my hands and made me type it out into a text.

I cant even tell you where this urge is coming from.  I mean sure, I use it sometimes when I’m being ironic and texting, or waving my arms around my head and squealing in real life; usually because I see a pony or a rainbow or a pretty bug. 

But today, I typed it, and I-I-I- I MEANT it.  I feel so ashamed.  I was too pretentious to use it, even when I was a teenager.  Granted, I hated how hard texting was on number keys so I only texted like twice a year.  Seriously, texting might as well have been wizardry when I was 17.  Twin and Little Sis would do it and I would see it and be amazed that they had the patience and dexterity to manage to type out all that crap.  They would send like 5000 texts a month, apiece.

If I tried to send one text in class, I would short circuit my brain and fall out of my desk and then my phone would get confiscated.  And everyone would make fun of me for failing at being a cool texting teenager.  Granted, I don’t think I got a phone till I was 18.  I wisely concluded if I had a cell phone, I could be reached, which was something neither of my siblings considered.  Still, my parents decided I needed one, probably because I was riding a horse alone in a field most days.

I still remember the first boy I gave my phone number to.  He was a bull rider, we met the first time I donated blood, which made me act like a drunken 6 year old.  I remember trying to understand time as Twin drove me home and looked at me like I had grown tentacles.  I think it was a combo of adrenaline from blood loss, blood loss, and adrenaline from giving my phone number to a sexy bull rider.  That can take a lot out of a girl.

It takes even more out when he calls you 10 or 15 times a day. 

That experience was worth an OMG.  But I typed it today when I was texting Little Sis about a printer mom was buying her.  I mean, used to work at a tech support desk, but the only time I went into a frenzy over a printer was when the Russian Spy and I figured out we could tattoo each other with the leftover pink toner in the pink toner cartridge.