my "little" brother

This:

is my little brother. His name is Eric. Cute, right?

He is the best little brother a girl could have.

Now wait, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that your little brother is the best little brother someone could have. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're wrong. Plain and simple. Mine already filled that spot long ago. I apologize for any offense taken. Here are a few reasons why Eric is the best:

- He didn't hate me after I would pour glasses of icy cold water on his head while he was in the shower as a small child. Okay, okay...maybe I did this even when he wasn't a small child.

- He still loves both Jeff and I after we used to squirt him in the face with a spray bottle every time he'd walk into a room as a little boy. He used to talk a lot. Like...a LOT. Jeff and I tried using that tactic to achieve silence. It might have had the opposite effect of what we were hoping. Mean, I know. I have since repented.

- He forgave me for threatening to bring the hose in through his window while he was sleeping and spray him to wake him up. Again, I know what you're thinking. Why all the water? ...No idea.

- When he was about three or four, I told him that his ravioli was monkey brains. He cried, but he still loves me today. I am fairly certain he even loved me then.

- He lets me give him hugs in front of his friends. Those of you with little brothers know this is a big deal. He even tells his friends that I'm cool sometimes. I know.

- He set up my computer on remote desktop so that he could fix my computer from his house when it breaks down, which happens to be a lot, I might add. I take no credit for this. Is it my fault if technology hates me?

- He is a technology genius. Seriously. You may have figured that out from the "remote desktop" thing. I didn't even know that existed until he told me he was going to set it up. Who knew.

- He is an incredible runner. He runs many-a-mile and barely breaks a sweat. When Eric goes running with me, I "run" and he walks nonchalantly beside me while I wheeze my lungs out. He is very encouraging the entire tme.

- Eric can fix things, let me tell you. If you need anything fixed, he is the one to call. No matter what it is. If you need anything broken, I am definitely the one to call. Again, I take no credit for this. In this case, I'll blame my parents for passing on their genes in a biased manner.

-He is an interesting mix between a skater and a redneck. Didn't know that combination was possible? Neither did I until about a year ago.

- Eric is incredibly musical. He plays guitar (which you probably figured out from the picture above) and trumpet and is pretty dang good at figuring things out on the piano for never having had a lesson. He also sings like a pro, in spite of denying it fiercely.

- He has the best heart of anyone I know. When I am talking to Eric, I always know he is being sincere.

- Eric is the best listener. When I need to vent or cry (or do both simultaneously), Eric is often my first choice, because he just listens and rubs my back, and it's obvious he really cares (again with the sincerity).

- In spite of the fact that there are four years between us in age, I can safely say that Eric is one of my best friends. Hands down.

Once again, I think I know what you're thinking. How did so many awesome traits end up in one kid? I'm honestly not sure. And I don't hold it against him either. He can't help being so awesome.

In case you couldn't tell:

I am so proud of my "little" brother.

Love you, Bud.

strange paranoia

Fact:

I have a very strange paranoia of walking into a men's restroom. Even if I have been to the same ladies' room a million times, I still check the sign outside the door every time...just to make sure. Hey, you never know when they'll decide to switch things up. I don't have any memory of ever having done this before; it's just something that worries me. Not like I sit at home at night and worry about it kind of worry. Just like I don't want it to happen in the near future. Or at any point in the future, for that matter.

Story:

Yesterday, I went to the restroom in the building where I TA. Been there a thousand times (give or take a hundred). I walked all the way in and realized I hadn't checked the sign outside the door, so I turned around, walked back out the door, checked the sign, glanced at the quizzical expression on the face of a studying student, and walked back in, satisfied that I hadn't just done something that I was going to regret.

Sometimes you just have to be sure, ya know?

instant replay

My brain does some very odd things.

We don't need to get into all of them today (I just don't have that much time), but let's talk about one of my favorite things that my brain does.

I call it...instant replay.

So you know how when someone tells a joke, everyone laughs, and then the moment is gone? Well, not for me. When someone tells me a joke, my brain replays it instantly and it's funny the first time,

the second time,

the third time,

the fourth time,

the fifth time,

(let's just say plus infinity) and I just laugh again and again and again.

It's really awkward, though, when the moment has passed for everyone else, and I'm still sitting there giggling to myself.

But to be honest, I don't worry about it too much because I'm just too busy laughing.