Our little O'Malley certainly was a brave little toaster last night, wasn't he? What an excellent episode. I mean, SERIOUSLY. I found it particularly appropriate that the episode was about not growing up, especially since I spent much of the weekend in Drunken Debauchery Land, where the keg never empties, friends don't have to work on Monday, and you never have to sleep. It's a fun place, let me tell you.
I found more than just Peter Pan Syndrome appropriate about last night's episode. Why is it that when you don't want to think about something, you're pretty much bashed over the head with it until you just give in and wallow in whatever it is you don't want to think about. I wish I could be as brave as George, but I'm not. I am a big, scaredy, baby, "the sky is falling!" chicken when it comes to luuuuuuuuurve and also declaring feelings of luuuuuurve, unless, of course, I am in Drunken Debauchery Land, in which case I will freely give away these feelings to everyone I meet and then probably leave more of them on your voicemail at 3 in the morning.
Although I say a lot of things, I never quite can say the things I really mean. Maybe that's why I use so many words. I'm trying to get the right ones out, I really am, but they end up stuck somewhere between my brain in my mouth. A big lump in my throat. This is probably another reason I'm not taken very seriously. If I do, by some chance, manage to say something I really mean at the exact moment I mean to say it, I'll take it back somehow. I'll ignore it or make a joke about poo or hoo-hoos. And then I'll spend hours and hours delving over that moment, imagining all the different turns the conversation could have taken and then kicking myself for living more inside my head than in the real world.
And so THIS is why George is my hero.
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