PIZZA! HATS! BANKS! CRAAAAAAFTS!

I have a happiness problem.

Where most people go through life acting pretty cool and normal and digging down deep to let themselves express emotion, I actually have to do the opposite. I'm an over-sharer of joy. My enthusiasm for things knows no boundaries. Even when it should.

If I'm in a good mood, I can't stop complimenting people. I could see a normal person on the street wearing the most hideous hat I've ever seen, but I will definitely compliment them on it. I have no idea why. I think it's because I'm so stoked out that they had the bravery to look in the mirror and be like "I look fucking fly as hell in this hat and I'm going with it".  I feel the need to validate their choice because I'm so happy for them just out there...living their fucking truth, man. You go, Glen Coco.

If I actually DO like the hat, I will not only tell them, but jump all over their face like a puppy until they tell me where they got it, when and if it has special meaning to them. I'm insane. Sometimes I pant when I'm done talking because I get so exhausted from happiness. Sometimes I'll just twirl or do PB moves in place to expend some of the energy out of my body.

Last Saturday I had tickets to Banks that I was pissing myself excited over for months, but I walked into Paper Source in Birmingham during the afternoon and learned how to do a raised watermark embossed metallic stamp on stationary and I lost my DAMN MIND. Didn't want to do anything but stamp for the rest of the day and my life. (My honeybee monogram is my life so I'm making people monogrammed stationary for Christmas, if you definitely don't want this, you should tell me now because there is NO STOPPING ME). Luckily, I was forced to get ready and put on pink lips and get to dinner where I had enough wine and steak to make me excited for anything and I made it to the show. Once AT said show, I became aware of just how cool this girl is and once again, became overly enthusiastic about her wardrobe, the venue, her music, the crowd and the Coors Light tall boy I was consuming.  I geeked out and fangirled the entire time and then again upon discovering a new brewery in Greektown after.

I don't even know where this came from. My mother is, like, the inventor of resting bitch face and my father is very happy, but he's not downright spastic like me. I mean, I have no chill, you guys. NO CHILL

Update: As I was hitting Publish on this post, someone walked into the office with Jets Pizza and I screamed. I literally just screamed because I was so excited and wanted some. I should be on meds.