Is god an evil dwarf?

I love all the "seasons."  I put them in quotations because down where I'm from, we don't get all the real seasons.  We seem to skip spring and sometimes we skip fall.  But I have a serious infatuation with fall. I want to make out with every part of it.  I love the leaves changing colors.  I love football.  I love drinking whiskey and watching football.  I love pumpkins spice lattes.  I love red wine.  I love boots.  I love sweaters.  I don't love pants but that's something I am willing to get past for the greater good of the season. I love all the fun things you can do during fall that you can't do any other time of year... like carving pumpkins and picking apples and hay rides.... which brings me to the source of my joy today.  Gracie and I have made plans to do all the fall-y things I love this long weekend.  I think we've missed apple-picking season but I'll settle for stuffing my own scarecrow.  One thing I will not be participating in is the haunted corn maze.  The first {and only} time I've ever done this was my senior year in highschool.  I went with four of my best friends down to Arkansas - which was probably our first mistake.  AND we went on Halloween - definitely our second mistake.  We are trying to make our way through this wretched maze when something/one starts chasing us and forcing my mind to decide between fight or flight.  What did I choose?  Neither.  I peed my pants.  Literally.  It was this horrible mix between shear terror and hysterical laughter that caused me to say sayonara to any and all bladder control.  Cute.  I know.  {And my parents wonder why I don't have a boyfriend... probably because I tell sick ass stories like this.}  I could pretend that this was the last time I did something so humiliating but Grace would bust me out.  But that's a story for another time.  And by that I mean I'm not telling you now nor will I ever tell you.


I apologize for the second weak post of the week.  My sleep schedule {or lack thereof, as the case is} has turned the vibrance of my mind into mush.  So tonight, dearest readers, I'm praying to the gods of tylenol pm and the sweet baby cheezus that I will sleep 3+ hours.


I bid you adieu.