Interesting person #3

What it do, baby boo?

So it's time for Interesting Person #3. Before I introduce you to this person, I'd like to pat myself on the back for what a stroke of genius this series was. People are practically knocking down my door to become an entry. It's OK, I am completely aware of my exceptionally amazing writing skills and how it might possibly boost you to stardom. I am accepting monetary bribes, by the way. I have never once claimed that my moral compass points due North.

Anyhoo, interesting person time. My interesting person for this entry is a man. An old man. His name is Eddie. I met this cute little oldie when my friend, Jade, and I were studying for a leadership exam in Barnes & Noble. Which by the way, should be an oxymoron. Who the heck needs to study for leadership?! And how on Earth am I expected to concentrate surrounded by all of those magnificent books? Sorry, back on track. Jade and I were discussing social behaviors (this means gossiping)and what-not when I took notice of the man at the table next to us. He was alone, drinking a cup of coffee. My first instinct was he was simply waiting for his wife. An hour goes by. Wow, his wife is a shoppin' fool. Another hour. Maybe she forgot him. Another hour. Eddie has finished his coffee, but is still smiling. At this point, I can no longer study. Ok, let's be honest, I was never really studying. We began to gather our things when Eddie speaks for the first time.

"I hope you girls do well on your test."

OK, you may not know this but I'm an emotional mess. I cry over commercials on a regular basis and don't get me started on sappy stories. So, as if on cue, tears sprung to my eyes.

"Thank you, sir." I began to stall a bit not wanting to leave him all alone. How would he get home? Did he have a home? God, is this a test?!

At that moment, one of the Starbucks girls walks over to the man. "OK, Eddie. Ready to go home? I'll go bring the car around."

"She takes me home. She doesn't have to, but she does. Every day."

All I need to say is I bawled the whole way home. So there he is, Eddie. I see him almost every time I go to Barnes & Noble, and my heart sings. God bless, that sweet little Asian girl. She's definitely earned two BIGGITY-BIG-BIG thumbs up.

Sorry that this post was slightly depressing and that I didn't mock or tease anyone or any situation. Next blog will be:

"TV line-up Gradebook" Do your favorite shows make the cut? Probably not, and even if they do. I'm going to make fun of them.

Adventures in Dentist-land

I love going to the dentist. I'm not talking 'fond'; I LOVE going to the dentist. There is no greater feeling than fresh, clean teeth but leaving the dentist is like getting a whole new set. The sun shines a bit brighter and for just a moment the angels harmonize on The Office theme song. That's my Heaven, OK? Don't judge. I know there are some of you out there that 1) don't go every six months (SHAME!) or 2) hate to go with a passion. If that is you, here is what you're missing.

My alarm beeps at 8 a.m. A sound that is normally the bane of my existence, I welcome its insistent chirping on this particular morning. I leap to my feet, face my mirror, and greet myself.

"Good morning you beautiful, sexy thang. Why hello teeth! My, you sure do look rough this morning! Calm your fears. Today is all about YOU."

I brush with extra vigor this morning making sure to hit every corner and crevice. Then, comes the floss. I only floss twice a year...the morning of a dentist appointment. Why? You'll find out later.

I drive TWO hours to see my dentist. He's been my main teeth man since I was five. No one knows these beauties the way he does. It's a marriage, my teeth and Dr. Meyers. From now on, refer to my teeth as mini Mrs. Meyers.

As I stroll through the door, I am a sight to behold. The epitome of good dental care. A breeze catches my brunette locks and the sun glints of of my mouth. I can hear a sharp intake of breath from the waiting patients. She's here. But today is not about me. Today is about my teeth.

I don't wait. Carmen is waiting for me. Today, I am the princess. I stroll to the back past all familiar faces. The dental hygienists call out my name and greet me. By the way, have you ever seen an ugly DH? I think it's like a rule or something.

Fast forward an hour. My teeth are perfect. Everyone has said so. I am the 'never needed braces' kind of person. Rare, I know. They have a new polish and gleam, and I can hear them rejoicing in my mouth. Today couldn't be more perfect. No cavities here. I used to be cavity girl, but no more. My DH comments on my excellent flossing, too. Sucker. Twice a year, baby!

My dentist loves me. Seriously, if I weren't a Red Raider, he would probably adopt me. Don't be fooled by our witty, cantankerous banter. This man wishes he could see me every day. We discuss life and God. I teach him about celebrity behaviors and how all white sneakers are NOT his thing, and he teaches me some Bible scriptures. You may think he's the more holy one, but my lessons are really important too. I ask him about the whole Jessica Simpson not brushing her teeth debacle and he agrees that she's disgusting.

There you have it. See what you're missing? It's like going to a revival, you leave feeling fired up. For weeks, I will commit myself to clear liquids and proper brushing and then lose my steam. It's all good though because I am a unicorn of dental purity.

Interesting Person #2

Hiya.

Well, it's time for interesting person numero dos! Let me just begin my saying that after only one post on this series, I've already come to the conclusion that interesting people are few and far between. Then I realized...DUH!...I only think that because I'm friends with most of them. I think a lot of myself, and you can't change it. But here are a couple of new people I've met this week.

So far this week, I've met Zach. Why is he interesting? He could be Will Ferrel's younger brother, and his alcohol tolerance is intense. I feel sorry for his fiancee.

I've met Braxton. Braxton is an uber-nerd who just graduated from Pepperdine University. He's taking a year off before going to grad school. I immediately thought FREE SPIRIT! Nope. He wants to write some non-fiction book about something nerdy without any references to death, tragedy or sex. Sounds like a B-U-M-M-E-R to me.

So, interesting person 2 is...drum roll please.... ROBIN MCNEESE!



Robin and I met Fall 2009 when we suffered through PR together and goofed off during EM&C together. Robin is a sorority girl...don't hold it against her. She truly broke the mold and is NOT a sorostitute. She's obsessed with Taylor Swift and John Mayer, so you can imagine her excitement when the two collaborated on a song for T-Swizzle's album. I had the blessing to have lunch with Robin every Wednesday this past semester. Her heart for God is amazing, and her wit is quick. She's honest and never backs down from who she is. Robin may not have found a cure for cancer or climbed the tallest mountain in the world, but she changed my life. She'll always be a dear friend. One day, the whole world will know Robin's name. And yeah, I'm totally gonna be the first person to have blogged about her which pretty much secures me a spot in her entourage. Boom boom pow!

Here's the link to Robin's blog. Follow it, love it, live it.

http://robinmcneese.blogspot.com/

BIG hugs! :)

You're so vain. I bet you think this blog is about you.

I'm still waiting to meet interesting person numero dos...or have I met them? Hmmm... So that blog will be soon.

I realize that a lot of the time I sit and ponder a truly profound blog topic. Then, I slap myself and realize what an oxymoron that statement was. It's a blog. Further than that, it's MY blog. I don't have a profound bone in my body. I just get lucky sometimes. So, I'm just going to write about what I know, and the topic right now - Facebook pictures.

Have you ever really sat and thought about the different types of Facebook pictures? Or what they say about that specific person? Well, I've noticed that a) I scrounge every picture I have or have been tagged in to find something "Facebook worthy" and then b) I edit it. Take my current picture. I'm not going to lie; I'm lookin' fierce. Do I look like this every day? Psht. Hell to the no. But if it's on Facebook, it's official. I'm a stone-cold fox.

I'm really glad Facebook decided to stop posting in your News Feed when so-and-so changed their profile picture. Know why they did that? Because of that one girl who desperately needs a new picture every...freaking...day. I refer back to my first point. I go through pains and several editing processes to get one decent enough to represent my page. You have 165 picture of just you. I'm not going to say what that says about you. Ok, yes I will. Attention whore. There I said it, and I'm not the only one thinking it.

Oh, but I can't exclude the guys! I truly love the 80 pictures of you flexing in the mirror while you practice your blue-steel face. I truly go weak in the knees....from nausea. You toolbag. No matter. You're socially awkward and talk entirely too much about blood and dirtbike wrecks. Mmmm classy.

I can't hate on the couple pictures. I like those. Except when I see your tongues in that ever so important kissy picture. I'll leave it at that.

Please. For the love of all that is holy and good in the world, cease and dissist with the "why yes I was indeed spontaneously caught in this moment where I just so happen to look fabulous". You took it yourself. I see the tell-all wrinkles in the shoulder of your shirt. Busted.

Oh Facebook. Why do you do this to me? I used to be a perfectly non-judgemental person. Hahahahahaha...ok that was a lie.

BIG love.