Procrastination does some weird things to me, or has weird side-effects, I guess. Today I should be working on one of the four papers I have due, but have I? Far from it.

Today I came home, ate, washed dishes, that’s all normal. (Prepare for a really long run-on sentence) Then, I washed the sink, threw away gross stuff that didn’t belong to me, thoroughly cleaned the counters, the stove, the microwave (that I hardly use), the cabinets, the fridge, the table, the tv, the trash can, swept the floor, dusted, wondered what to do about those nasty drip pans on the stove, didn’t have any aluminum foil, googled it, decided to soak them in soap and ammonia, was going to swiffer with the wet jet, but was out of batteries because I put them in my Wii Fit, which is in Panama City, washed towels, made sweet tea, perused the interwebs, ate a not-quite-up-to-par peach, got annoyed with asmallorange.com because my site was down, searched for courses that may have opened that I could add to my summer or fall schedule, added History of Central Asia, then saw my site was back up and blogged about it all. Now I’m going to make some spaghetti.

What would you do if you saw someone you knew on match.com? An ex? Someone you went to school with?

One night Amy and I were browsing match for just these types and find them. Amy finds an ex and I find this guy I went to school with.
During my first stint at GCCC there was a guy in my radio classes, JP we’ll call him, ’cause that’s his name. JP liked attention I guess, he talked with a fake Australian accent, we all knew it was face, yet he still went on insisting it was real. Occasionally, when he would slip up and not accentuate words enough, or at all, and someone would call him on it, he would just say he’d been in the states so long that the accent comes and goes. Then we would talk about him behind his back, good times. Don’t get me wrong though, other than this weird reach for attention, he could be a really nice guy when you spoke with him one-on-one.

Maybe a couple weeks later after finding him on match.com, Amy and I are on a quest for pizza and stop at Gumby’s, which seemed to be the only pizza place open after 10 on a Friday night, weird. We go in and I immediately recognized the guy behind the counter and he clearly recognizes me because he begins to speak in a well out-of-practice fake Australian accent. Gumby’s just has a tiny lobby—it’s not a dine-in restaurant, so we’re cornered. I don’t let on that I know him and don’t have an opportunity to say to Amy, “this is that guy.” So he slips up on a word and Amy calls him out, he shrugs it off. I’m having such a hard time trying not to laugh. When I get the chance, I text Amy and it’s good I did because she thought he looked familiar and almost asked him how she knew him.

So we leave and we’re both cracking up as we walk back to the car. Of course, we’re talking about him and there he is standing behind the building talking to a coworker. I don’t think he heard us and the laughter resumed with added hilarity once we were safely in the car.