Head in the clouds...

P called me out on it. I was washing the dishes and had this stupid giddy smile and dreamy eyed look on my face. "What are you smiling about?" "Oh me? Nothing," I answered, trying not to smile. But God I hate when I do that. Whenever I try not to smile I just end up smiling more. When we were kids, all my guy friends would love playing that dumb game with me-- the one when you try not to smile for 60 seconds while the other person makes all kinds of funny faces at you. I was the inevitable loser everytime and would burst out laughing. I am still surprised by the fact that I can actually keep a poker face.

It seems, however, that I have recently developed "the smile." This is the one that accompanies the fluttery stomach. The one that you might catch on someone else's face and wonder if they know some really good secret that you don't. The one that keeps you from concentrating on any small task and makes you mad at yourself for wasting your time with your head in the clouds. Well, I've gotten it, and I only hope it doesn't go away too soon. If I remember correctly, though, it's just the beginning of the ride. If you've ever started seeing someone you really like, you know this ride. It's the one in the brand new Ferrari that can accelerate from 0 to 150mph in .33 seconds (bear with me, it's a super Ferrari). You're loving it and just want to keep enjoying the ride, but yet a part of you is thinking, "whoa, slow down, if this thing goes any faster it's just sure to crash and burn." And with some good sense, I'll tone it down a few gears. I really will try, though I say this with a sly smile. Perhaps I know myself too well. I'd take a crash and burn over a Sunday joyride anyday.