Sam-ily Matters (With Less Urkel)

I remarked to Gideon a few days ago that sometimes I feel like I engineer situations so that my life can resemble a sitcom as much as possible. Though it catalyzes my creativity, this is a very bad thing when I'm supposed to focus on a conversation but instead keep thinking of all the zany things I could say to transform the interaction from normal to awkward. Of course, I never aim to be too awkward; I'm not in a British sitcom or aspiring to create the chick version of Jackass. I need to retain some sense of normalcy, after all.

I've got several examples of my sitcom brain - Sitcom Brain, I think, is the scientific term for this disease - and for the sake of making my life easier, I'll try to boil it all down to a list.

1. When I visited Gideon for the first time as a single woman and we kissed, he said, "Wow, you smell so good." I just shrugged it off and responded, "Oh, I just showered." But that is not true. I spent two hours that day applying lotion and perfume and oil to make my hair smell like lavender. I even shaved the stray hair on my big toe just in case he decided to zero in on that. Anyway, in my mind, I imagined the exchange followed by a sped-up montage of me meticulously showering and spritzing and the like. The clip I imagined of me shaving my big toe really entertained me, so of course I started laughing like a madwoman. Immediately after I kissed Gideon for the first time. You can see how this might be a problem.
2. My main coworker always asks me what I did over the weekend, and I consistently lie to him so that my life appears really interesting. Today, I told him that I spent the weekend drinking with friends when I really attended Gideon's siblings' basketball game and played board games with his family. If this doesn't sound awkward to you, keep in mind that I said, "Oh, ya know, just went to the pub with all my bros to bang out those shots." 
3. I have trained my friend Kelby to do a synchronized booty-bump every time something good or even slightly above average happens. We also have a bit where he puts on gloves and pretends to strangle me and I say something about sparing me for various reasons. (Often I cite all those children in the orphanage who need me to feed and clothe them.)
4. If I'm driving my car and I have a passenger who seems kind of uptight, I like to sing really obnoxious 80's ballads at them. My singing voice is terrible and I'm a very passionate singer, so you can imagine how uncomfortable this makes people. Sometimes, if a person is showing little discomfort, I like to his/her name into the song while using my iPod as a microphone.  

I'm not saying that you shouldn't trust me, but if I ever tell you something that seems a little far-fetched, I have probably made it up in an attempt to get laughs from live audience that watches my life all hours of the day.