A birthday blog.

In honor of her birthday, this blog is about Lauren Collier.

How I have not blogged about Lauren yet is beyond me. Let me introduce you to Lauren and how epic she truly is. Oh, and how she almost got me killed by rednecks.

Lauren loves Soap Operas. We won't hold it against her. Oh wait, yes I will...all with just reason. Lauren invited me to tag along with the big kids to Soap Nation. Yep, Google it. Readers' Digest version is it's a convention for Soap Opera lovers to meet some of the actual stars. In other words, redneck Heaven (which we did not know yet). The trip down was a blast, and Lauren was introduced to my, what I have self-diagnosed, narcolepsy. It still amuses her. It should. It's bananas.

We were on a mission to get Lauren discovered. How on Earth that woman is not famous is beyond me. Moreover, Lauren could bring a lot to the soap world. She's a classy lady. And brazen like Liza Minnelli. Pause for adoring sigh. Who doesn't love Liza?

Back to my almost becoming someone's baby mama. Let me expand your mind on soap operas for a moment. Take your typical soap and take away the beauty, make-up, and money, and you have an everyday trailer park. You laugh because you know it's true. Well, this is what we encountered. Not fellow beautiful people, but hillbillies. Scary, Deliverance(ish), Texas Chainsaw Massacre(esque), rednecks. Shudder. Not only could they tell you about EVERY singe episode, but they could relate it to what happened down in Trailer-topia (an actual trailer park in Snyder). We made the mistake of standing way too close to them, too. The following is actual dialog. Reader discretion is advised.

Soap star hands Lauren autograph.
"AWWW MAAAAAA! I wanted Spinelli's autograph! That's why we came here! He's mah faaav-oooor-iiiite!"
"Shut up, Junior! Else Imma take ya outside and have ya daddy beat you!"

The above was a screaming match between a mother (with no teeth) and her son who was 30+ years old. Wicked.

All in all, the trip was...epic. I mean c'mon! You people know me. I LOVE crazy people. I thrive off of it.

So, happy birthday, Lauren. You make my days brighter. However, I will plan the next roadtrip because I have a sneaky suspicion you and my older sister are planning a vampire/werewolf hunting trip...

Females....sheesh.

I am exceedingly annoyed with people about 72.37891% of the time. I'm not proud of it. It's not a great quality of mine. In my defense, if other people had better qualities that percentage would lower drastically. I am a teacher. I give you the tools to grow.

However, I should clarify the first sentence. Of that percentage, my annoyance with my own gender is to be blamed for 3/4 of that total.

I have a theory. Perhaps it's the college kid part of me that is stubbornly hanging on for dear life, but I have determined that most girls fit into the same categories as alcoholic beverages. If you're female, you're putting up the defense. I understand, but some women don't fit and some women are just the right kind. Why am I explaining myself?! Just follow me on this one, or quit reading.

Whiskey and Coke
This drink is used to describe THAT girl. THAT girl who starts out the night fun, sweet and feisty. It usually ends violent and with someone holding her hair back. I think that's all I need to say about her...

Beer
I really enjoy my "beer" friends. T-Money is a great example. She's chill, friendly and laid-back. Not much phases them, and they get along with everyone. Some may not like their simple taste, but everyone respects them. Also, they usually don't lead you into an ugly tomorrow. Unless you go to far...

And then... Fruity Cocktails
Fruity Cocktails always look good, but they generally aren't all they claim to be. These are girls who look fun and fresh, but don't have a whole lot going on past the perky umbrella and the fruit kabob. A little bit of them goes a long way in the end. These are usually the girls who give you the first impression of "wow, she's so nice" and then leave you with the "oh my crap, please go away." There's generally an inordinate amount of stalking in their past. Watch out, she's sticky! Wink, wink.

I could go into further depth, but I like to lump sum people. I'm not ashamed. I guess I should add the disclaimer of THIS BLOG IN NO WAY ADVOCATES THE CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL. Yep, that should do it.

Have a BIG day :)

Crafty much?

I can't sing.

I can't dance.

I can't play an instrument. (Unless you count my harmonica, Boudreaux, who I think just sounds good to make me feel better.)

I'm not much of an athlete. (I have a mean jump shot, though.)

I cannot lick my elbow. (You may think this sounds odd, but I have a friend who can, and I've always been deeply jealous.)

I'm significantly untalented. Unless you count my flawless ability to stick my foot in my mouth during about 83.7215% of conversations, then I'm ALMOST completely untalented. I do have good taste though. Some have even said 'impeccable'. OK, one guy said that, but he's gay so that's worth 20 people saying it. Gay men KNOW good taste. So, I'm trying to be crafty. Yep. Crafty, I'm gonna be. I'll let you know how it goes...

Who let me become a grown up?!

It's been awhile since I've flexed my blogging muscles, so bear with me. I'm a little rusty. In the previous post, I mentioned things are crazy right now. I am sufficiently overwhelmed and frustrated, and I haven't seen my friend, Positivity, in a few days. Growing up is hard. I understand why Prozac is so popular in adult social circles. Him and Whiskey seem to be besties. I've estimated that I have been an "adult" for about three weeks now, and here is what I've learned.

Adults overshare WAY too much. I'm putting females on blast for a moment here. I do not, under any circumstance, care to see your childbirth scars or hear about that experience. Furthermore, I do not care to hear about it when I'm getting a manicure. I came about one dry heave away from enlightening the pretty Asian lady of what I had for breakfast (coffee and yogurt). Guys don't talk about stuff like that! Granted they enjoy scratching in public, but I can ignore that.

No one pays attention when I whine. I'm a whiner. Always have been. My mother whines. My sisters whine. My dad rolls his eyes....and then gives us what we want. Do not say I'm spoiled because I don't particularly love how that word equates me with expired dairy, but I will allow you to say that I'm...loved. When did it become so wrong to have standards and expectations?! Apparently it's not wrong, but no one gives two hoots. I may have to revert back to my foot-stamping days. Which only ended about a month ago...

Single=unhappy,loner,scapegoat I love being single for the record. I will continue to be single until my daddy cuts me off. I will not accept the pity glances. Why yes, I would LOVE to come to your dinner party even though I am the only single girl on the list. Why? Because Jesus is my main squeeze. My Man threw the best dinner party in the history of dinner parties with nothing but one fish, one loaf, and a sip of wine. Boom! And you thought your boo was so special. Pshhhh.

Responsibility WHEN DID THIS BECOME A PART OF THE DEAL?! I would've enjoyed some fair warning on this one folks. All of you failed in preparing me for that little golden nugget of crap.

Hmmm, so that's what I've learned. Apparently I'm not as smart as I once gave myself credit for. Also, being an adult is hard. I'm not very good at it yet.

On a good, happy note. I had what I would describe as my first brush with fame yesterday. Without any introductions, a very kind and lovely woman noticed that I was 'The Blogger'. BIG holla to my new friend!

Hello, long lost friends.

Whoa. It's been awhile. Let me bring you up to speed on what's been going on.

I passed my teaching content exam. I am officially a teacher...pray.

I just returned to West Texas after spending more than two weeks in Dallas at a teacher school thingy. I could go on for hours about all that I learned, but let's get down to the fun stuff. Potential teachers should have a far more rigorous process. Like burning hoops and lion taming? I'm terrified for the students of some of those people. They would be better off learning from Snookie and The Situation...

I've taken up harmonica playing. Feel free to submit applications to be in this entourage.

Oh, and John Krasinski married that wench. It's too soon to talk about it...

I promise another blog soon.

BIG love :)