Changes . . . or not.

Today, a good friend told me it is "lame" when someone doesn't update their blog frequently enough. So here I am, updating my blog . . . and what I have to say is . . . nothing. I guess I will just regurgitate and expand on a conversation I had with Persnicketta. We were talking about changes. Persnicketta has lived in all 50 states, give or take a few. I have lived in one. I have lived in only 2 houses. I lived, as most children do, with my parents until I moved out. I moved in to Mr. M's house after we were married. I weighed____ at that time. I weigh ____(same number)+3 now. I was a skinny little gangly twerp then. I am a skinny little gangly twerp now. I work out consistently, and have been doing so for the last 16 years. I have nothing to show for it. I think I have seen a small amount of muscle on my arms, but I can't be sure. I've always had skinny little stick arms. No amount of working out has changed that. Except for some wrinkles and my eyeglasses and some other accoutrements of age, my physical appearance has changed little. What I am saying is that in my entire life, from my living quarters to my physique, I have not had to deal with change. I like it this way (I assume, for I know no other way.) Most of my friends have been my friends for decades. Mr. M and I have had the same couch for 16 years. (It is a good couch.) Our couch has never been moved. I sometimes think a change would be exciting, but when I start to make some change, I get distracted and sit on the couch and read for the rest of the day. The only good change (according to me), is the change that I can use to pay for a parking space.