Naughty or Nice?

Hmmm . . . I find it quite odd that I even have to think about it. Apparently, I'm more like Lorelai than I thought. Actually, I'm sure that my mom would argue that she gets it from me. And I'm okay with that. (In fact, I'm being particularly naughty right now as I eat a Potato Ole from McAlister's and drink a Coca-Cola.)

My diet alone would land me on Santa's naught list, but let's be honest, I don't really think that the jolly old one really can pass judgement on me for that one. The other day I made a new best friend: Ben and Jerry's American Apple Pie ice cream. (Or something like that.) But that was before I met Dillon's chocolate-covered pecan bites. I'm not a pecan fan, but they made a convert out of me. Then there's my Pickle Guy fetish.

Speaking of fetishes, anyone who knows me of Gallagher knows that firemen are not safe around me. Talk about naughty. Someone at work asked me if I had a thing for firemen. Uh, yeah. Talk about an understatement. Right now one of the pros of living in Philadelphia are the cute firemen. Okay, the cute fireman.

But to get to Philly and Penn, I'm going to have to get my Rebecca-focus back. I've never been diagnosed with ADD, but I truly believe that I have it. Or at least I caught it this semester. And I'm ready to give it back, which is something that Donna would be happy about as well.

Thank goodness for new beginnings!