My life is one very long story

Yesterday I went to visit a friend with these gorgeous 8 month old twins. What was supposed to be a 'flying visit' ended up in three hours of chat fuelled by Arnott's Mint Slice biscuits and of course fun, conversation. Several of the topics we chatted about could have been blog entries...but I'm saving those for a day when I've run out of stuff to crap on about (yeah, like that will happen!). ANYHOOOOO, the thing that struck me about this conversation was how many 'stories' I have. She would say something innocuous like "baby bottle" and that would leave me with an index of funny stories about baby bottles (in my head, not out loud), from which I would often choose one to share. She'd laugh (of course, because I'm damn funny), the conversation would continue, she'd say something...and whammo, into my head leaps another index of stories about whatever phrase she has just uttered. Is my life just one long funny story? Is there some sort of quota of how many funny things happen to a person? If there is then I definetly have had more than my fair share - nearly everything which happens to me is story-worthy. People who know me in real life know that I often say (out loud), "I've got the best/funniest/most ridiculous story about that!" I then proceed to rabbit on for long periods of time. Maybe my stories aren't funny at all, maybe I'm just completely self-centered and therefore I think my stories are funny, but really they're not. Maybe those people laugh at the end of my stories just to be polite. Maybe I like the sound of my voice? Lately several people have commented about how I talk a lot. It's true, I do talk a lot. It's not that I find silence uncomfortable, it's just that I see no point in being quiet if I have something to say, which 99% of the time I DO. If I don't have an opinion to share, then, you guessed it, I have yet another of my myriad of funny stories...and yes, sometimes my mouth hurts after talking so much. It's not unheard of for DH to say, "Can you stop talking now?" especially when it's late at night, he's keen for some action, and my mouth is going 1,000 miles an hour. This post, as rambling as it is, is an example of how much I talk. I could just keep typing and typing and typing, and then mid-type I'd remember something funny which happened to me, and I'd have to share it with all of you, which would lead to more typing....you get the idea.

Speaking of funny stories (!!!) - you know the cheese sandwich? I found it. It was on top of a tissue box (Kleenex with Aloe!), on top of the coffee table, in the middle of the lounge room. I didn't notice it there (even though I walked past it several times that night and the next day) because it was sitting perfectly on top of the (square) box - and the bread and the box are not a dissimilar colour (see above, sandwich coloured kleenex box), and the box was neatly in the corner of the table with some other stuff... and it takes a whole paragraph just to tell you people I found a damn cheese sandwich. Is anyone out there listening?!?! Arrgghhhh....