Mathematics

One:
I have been gradually changing my garage (which is unusable for a car) into a garden party room/sunroom kind of thing. Well, it has been so cold lately, that I have only gone out there to put food in the dogs’ dishes and then head back in. I just noticed that my youngest, Dolan, has chewed every single chair of my new table set. Some pieces are almost chewed threw. So, off to PetSmart I went. I got this spray that tastes gross to dogs, and I sprayed it all over everything in the garage. Everything. Including, so it seems, my tongue. Apparently, the taste is not only aversive to canines. That was fun. Still is, even as I write this. Even after mouthwash. Even after eating lunch.
Two:
I have come to new heights in my okayness with being gay. I have reached new harrowing depths to the level of shallowness of which I can descend. I have made Paris Hilton and Donald Trump seem the least shallow people on the face of this earth. I have spent twenty-two years of my life attending school, for nothing. I am beginning the process of getting my third tattoo. However, this one will be invisible. Unless under a black light. Yes, a tattoo for the soul purpose of being shiny in a dance club. Fun stuff. I am making sure to stay away from any number-like figures as I design it, it would suck to inadvertently label myself with the Mark of the Beast. I have wanted a sleeve on my right arm for the longest time, but due to teaching and a variety of other social situations, that has not seemed the most prudent of ideas. This very well may be the solution. We shall see!
Three:
I have given SOME people the misconception (I have no idea how) that I am one of those uber-masculine gay men. I am not sure how they have come under this assumption considering the detail of my scrapbooks, the complete lack of knowledge of sports involving balls [insert your own inappropriate comment here], and my home decorating prowess. . . anywho, the other day, I got a late Christmas present in front of several other gay boys. Inside this package were two extra large My Little Ponies (I had hundreds of the normal sized ones when I was a kid). I squealed in complete happiness, tore open the boxes, and proceeded to braid their mains and tails with a vengeance. Unbeknownst to me, the rest of the men were staring awestruck as the Brandon they thought they knew morphed into a six year old girl, minus the pigtails—not a good look for me.

1+2+3= realization of why I am single

Gonna take a special man to deal with me. :)