So today I had lunch with my girls. By the way I always have a great group of girls around me.

Like seriously, I can’t understand how some girls even dare to say that all they have as friends is boys. Boys are OK as friends, but I truly feel that they do want to sleep with you. There are some exceptions, but not many. My brother implanted that thought with me since I was little. He would say “he is not your friend, he likes you.” Anyway, no matter where I live, I always have an awesome group of girlfriends. They are always funny and smart and just the best of the best.

For example, today during my lunch I was convinced and determined to convince them that I had some kind of obsessive disorder. The fact that one of my girlfriends is a school psychologist and right away she dignosed that I don’t really have OCD. Of course, she was right. Still, like a lot of people, I have some pretty funny obsessive tendencies.

I obsess about any and everything. Like there was a moment in my life where all I ate was cabbage, then watermelon, then cucumbers. When I like something I just can’t see things any other way. Oh, let me mention the time I was dating my man and we where in the car and I got all frantic and crazy because he suggested that I was drinking too much diet coke. This was a total addict’s behavior.

Another time was when I decided that my favorite color was pink. I was two years old then, My mom painted the walls of my room pink, my covers where pink, the blinds where pink, the curtains where pink, too. And all my clothes had to be pink – that changed when I turned 8. But my room was still pink until I was 24, and that is when I got married. Obviously my husband would not accept a pink room. I do have a pink bathroom now though. Did I mention that I moved several times and I tried to change my room theme and it never worked? It always ended up being PINK, and I’m not talking about a nice pastel pink. I’m talking about a bright shinny pink.

Just now I’m obsessed about talking about my room. I can’t stop. My obsession with pink stopped a little once Victoria Secret decided to launch their name brand PINK.

I know stories about my mom’s father, my grandfather, being very particular and meticulous about certain things. Like checking if the doors where closed 20 times or washing his hands over and over again and calling one of his seven kiddos to close the faucet. Of course back then nobody new he had a disorder.

You know back in the day doctors where not aware of any brain disorders with the same degree of certainty as today. You couldn’t be diagnosed with something like that. People were either crazy or not. I never got to meet my grandfather. He died 7 years before I was born. But I do hear stories about his “crazy” behaviors. By the way, I also have a little bit of Alzheimers. And to prove that, just now I wanted to write the name of my abuelo and I couldn’t remember his name. Word. My grandfather from my dad’s side had Alzheimers.

I have all kinds of undiagnosed disorders. I also have Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, especially if you are giving me directions to go somewhere. I would nod my head like a Bobblehead car toy and pretend very well that I’m listening on the outside but on the inside all I’m thinking is “look at the shinny object behind his/her head”. My brain shuts down.

I have to mention one of my brother’s other teachings about dating. His theory was that I should simply nod my head everytime I was going out for a date and pretend I was listening while I look the boys in their eyes. That stoped me from talking like a crazy lady. Because that is what I do. I can talk for hours, nonstop, And I don’t even need anybody to talk to or it doesn’t even need to make sense. For all of you men out there that I once dated and thought I was very interested in your conversation, you’ll be sad to find out now that it was all part of my brother’s teachings. I may not have been listening.

Anyway, right now my new obsession is France. I’ve been eating beignets and a small café crème for breakfast almost every day for the last two weeks. Right now I’m wearing a shirt that has a picture of the Eiffel tower , I’m reading two books about French women. And I so want to wear a scarf around my neck, start smoking long cigarettes and talk about how many lovers I’ve had.

How very French of me, right?