When in the world did I become so boring!?!

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Okay. When I say it like that it implies that at some point in time I was a wild child.  A barrel of laughs. A party waiting to happen. And, well, you guys know that’s never been true. Lately, though, I feel like I’ve brought my boringness to an epic level.

Is it possible to become even more of something- to include boring?

I guess so.

I mean, I think Carrot Top has become uglier over the years. Jessica Simpson has become more annoying. Orlando Bloom has become more gorgeous. So yes, one can definitely become more boring.

Perhaps this is all part of the natural progression of life- only they just don’t tell you about it because they don’t want to bum you out. I mean, how would you feel if you really knew the truth?

“Well, Suzy, when you get grow up you’ll go to college, and graduate, and get a great job, and get married, and have babies, and have bills, and a yard to maintain, and a house to clean, and fat to fight, and wrinkles to hide, and nothing to do, and then you die!”

Yeah… it’s probably good they skip over the last part.

Okay- so I’m exaggerating. A lot. Adult life definitely has its perks, we all know that. I mean how many seven year olds can have a Miller Light and Lucky Charms for dinner and then watch MTV until 11:00 (and um who am I kidding? I can’t even remember the last time I was up at 11 on a week night. Oh well, you get my point.)?

However, it does seem as thought since we’ve moved back Will and I have become really boring. Perhaps that is what happens when you’re in your mid to late twenties and live in Oklahoma?

Oklahoma.

Quintessentially the most boring of boring places one can live.

Maybe that’s my problem? The good old Sooner State.

I suppose I can’t blame all my infirmities on my state. I suppose there’s also nothing wrong with being “ok” with a night in (all.the.freaking.time :( ). Ha ha. Being “OK.” No pun intended. I’m hilarious.

I say all this because the other night Will and I were talking about what we wanted to do this weekend. Usually we go to church on Saturday and then go out to eat. I thought it would be fun to go to Bricktown and walk around and have dinner and see where the night took us. I even hinted that maybe he could take me dancing. Will, however, thought it would be more “fun” to go to a Chinese buffet.

Again.

(we did this exact same thing two Saturdays ago. I swear my anthem lately has been NIN’s, “Everyday is Exactly the Same” only I’m wearing different clothes.)

A Chinese freaking buffet.

There’s nothing wrong with that I suppose, but I mean… it’s Saturday night and we’re young and “fun” and carefree and childless. We should save the buffet days for, well, not Saturday nights. Something about a buffet on a Saturday night just screams awful and old and sad. And fat. 

I know- you guys think I’m utterly ridiculous. I probably sound silly. I’m not saying I want night after night of late nights and toilet hugging- I’m not saying that at all- I guess I’ve just got this urge to go have a fun night out.

What do you girls think? Are you in?

Now we just have to find a way to pry our husbands off of the Cashew Chicken and get them on board.

Here’s to a bunch of regular, boring, old married couples having a wild and crazy night on the town!

Don’t worry- I’ll make sure our fun ends at 9:00 on the dot. I know how you like to be in bed early.