Pricklies is a real word. And if you don’t believe me, don’t you dare play Scrabble with me, ever. I mean it.

It’s hot here.

That was a redundant statement. It’s hot like those peppers that if you eat the whole pepper it will eat your stomach from the inside out are hot.

Everyone was smart enough to bring water to class, but I had a peanut butter sandwich. Not just any peanut butter. The stick to your friend if you blow them a kiss while eating it peanut butter, which is also known as Peter Pan. Because of “the Pan” the SmartWater the size of Mexico I brought with me was gone within 10 minutes of class starting which also necessitated me leaving class an average of 12 times per hour.

So, I ran out of water and I didn’t exactly trust the water fountains. No, there was a time I walked by and there was poop in one of those fountains. I’ll get bottled water. Sometimes, I have no quarters, but, by golly, I had a single dollar and 4 quarters. On break, a scheduled one, not a Smartwater necessitated one, I grabbed a water and threw the quarters in my pocket.

Later, as I was thinking about the “England!” incident with A.J. and the quarter question at trivia, I pulled the remaining quarters out of my pocket and examined them closely. One was from 2006 and had nothing that made it different than any other quarter. Another from 2005 was the same. However, the third was an old style quarter with the eagle on the back. This one I examined more closely. The edges were worn smooth and George Washington’s hair had no definition. The year was 1966.

1966. Long before I was born. How many hands held this quarter? How many pockets? How many wallets? Had anyone famous held this quarter? Infamous? How many children bought something special with this quarter? Had it been in piggy banks? Jars for saving? Retirement funds? How many cans of soda had this quarter bought for someone as thirsty as I was? That quarter has been around through so many historical events, just traveling the world. Or has it been sitting in someone’s home collecting dust until someone cleaned out a carpet or a couch? Was it in a landfill?

The one thing I know is this: That rough edged quarter has seen more life than I ever will.

I slowly put it back in my pocket and wondered where it will go when it leaves my hands.

Full-fledged geek extraordinaire.

I’m ok with it and I’m not sure why others aren’t, especially when I’ve embraced this aspect of myself. Is it no longer cool to go with the self-acceptance? Dork has such a negative connotation, but there is something to be said for people that are eccentric, quirky or don’t go with the flow. We tend to stand out. Some may say that it’s not in a positive way, but I don’t think that the way I am presents itself in a bad manner.

Last week, I was in class and one of my friends was talking to another cohort about the highlights she’s had all semester. She has spent a lot of time on her outer beauty this semester and I’ve really noticed. She’s beautiful. I don’t swing that way, but if I did, I’d give her a second glance. She’s a precious, sweet, amazing, funny woman and I think that she is special. She’d commented that it took almost the entire semester for this other person in the cohort to notice that she’d had her hair done. I made the comment that I’d noticed and that I’d “been digging on her all semester.”

Not only did she smile, but she came over to me, hugged me tightly and then she and another girl made me an “Oreo sandwich.” Apparently, this is where two amazingly precious African American sweethearts hug a confused Caucasian girl and make her the cream filling. Needless to say, there were some interesting comments about what I said, but I shrug them off. I’m an equal opportunity flirt and this girl deserved what I said. Yes, it took cajones to say it, but it’s part of being quirky: You say things that others might not and it changes the outlook of the group, one way or another. She needed to hear that she is adored and accepted. I met the need and was rewarded by her, kindly.

It’s part of being a friend.

I sing in the car. Loudly. With hand gestures. Cars around me either laugh and point or join along.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and it gets me into trouble more often than not. I get hurt a lot. It’s who I am.

I will eat chicken pot pie 4 days in a row and then convince my twitter friends, they should, too. Don’t lie. You know you ate the pot pie.

I laugh at fart jokes. I tell them in public.

I’m the girl who doesn’t wear the camisole under her shirt and doesn’t realize she’s flashed people until after the fact. It wasn’t that I was trying, I just didn’t realize the shirt went down that far. It didn’t occur to me. I’m glad you enjoyed the show. They ARE beautiful.

I rarely spend more than 5 minutes on my makeup and if my hair takes more than 10, I leave it where it’s at.

I wear sneakers most every day. Screw dress up shoes.

I’m a jeans and t-shirt girl.

My perfume smells like lemons. Not a girlie smell, a CLEAN smell.

I hate to cook and clean.

I literally just played rock, paper, scissors with a presenter while the professor took over her presentation and we got bored.

I make inappropriate jokes. All the time. At the wrong times. In company where it’s wholly inappropriate.

I named my car “Betty” because anything I spend that much time with deserves to have a name.

I make fun of my education. I have to. 22 years of education makes me a nerd, along with being a geek and a dork. Yes, it also makes me smart. I’m proud of it, but not so proud that I have to make you feel stupid. I may be stupid for sitting my butt in desks made for a 7th grader for so long. We can all be happy about our education.

I wear braids, pigtails and buns. I go out in public like this. I think I look cute.

I wear the friendship bracelets my 13-year old sister made me with pride. I’ll wear them until they wear out. If you don’t like them, don’t look at them.

I want people to be my friend. Including my professors and people that may not necessarily want to be friends with someone as free with their words as I am. I have no problem joking and cajoling until people give in and become my friend. I can be charming when I want to be. Not in the typical manner. I will run up to people and invade their personal space by hugging them before they know me. Sorry about that.

I’ve done the time warp.

I’ve made, worn and given out warm fuzzies.

Butterfly and eskimo kisses are my favorite to give and receive.

I spend way too much time on my computer, but I do it because I miss the people I’ve met on here when I don’t.

I text more often than I should.

When I have my sunroof open, I feel invincible.

How are you a proud dork?

However, there is a problem. I lose things on a regular basis. This is my 2nd gustbuster and my 4th umbrella in 2 years. It doesn’t matter if it’s an umbrella I grabbed as a cheapie at Wal-mart on a rainy day or an expensive Gustbuster that I adore. Chances are, someone is going to walk off with a new umbrella when I’m around.

I’m not this forgetful with anything else in my life. I’ve managed to keep a multitude of planners, every cell phone I’ve ever had, and an 8-year old boy without losing any of them permanently.

Umbrellas are elusive, sneaky little bastards.

I get rained on alot.

The good news is that the people at my school and in my office building are in the money. I have single handedly supplied them with rain gear for the next several months.

You’re welcome.

I know.

I’m neurotic.

I’m very, very picky about how the site looks, which was especially important while doing the site redesign. Luckily, I had an angel for a designer, bless her sweet little heart.

My friend Natalie called me the other day and reminded me of how much I missed her voice when my eyes welled up after talking to her. Sometimes, it’s nice to hear a voice. I get your comments and I love all of them.

Except for the porn spammers who keep sending me things that make me question what kind of illegal drugs they are taking. Quit sending me that stuff.

Anyway, if you would like to call and leave me a message, please do. In fact, I’m begging you, leave me a message! Unless you are in prison. Then send me a comment. Or if you are the kind of person who does bad things to animals. Then you should probably read other blogs.

I have unlimited messages and I will listen to them over and over and over like a crazy cat lady.

You can call me on your phone at (615) 807-0376 or click on this button and you can use the microphone on your computer (if you have one) to leave me a message. If you have long distance charges, they may apply, but if you go through your computer, it’s free.

This isn’t my cell phone number, so I won’t ever answer, no matter how often you call it. But I’ll get your message and cherish it, I promise. Unless you leave crazy messages. Don’t do that. I won’t like it.

Are you having a good weekend? I hope so. Mine has been a rollercoaster, but the rain is softly falling outside and part of me is honestly considering going out in it to sit on the swing in my backyard and soak it in. Do you ever just want to do that?

The leaves are turning red, and the rain falls and the wind blows and I’m out there with it.

Edit: My friend, Neil, called and left me a message as Barack Obama that is HYSTERICAL. He asked me to post it because it was an awful lot of work. I don’t ever post things without permission. Have a listen:

When AJ had his Kentucky incident, I didn’t think. I smacked Leon to get his attention and then I ran. I haven’t ran in years, but I ran to him. I couldn’t help him or make him better, but he needed me and I needed to be with him.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

Recently, I was watching footage of the Dallas motorcade with JFK and Jackie and I reacted to it rather strongly. Warning: Graphic language coming.

I’ve probably watched the grainy footage from Dallas 100 times in my 30 years. I’ve noticed many things about it and have looked at it from various mental angles. However, this particular time, when I watched it, what kept coming back to me was that Jackie reacted quickly and instinctively to keep Jack safe. I have no idea what the state of their marriage was. By all accounts, it was not the most functional, but whose is? However, she recovers from shock quickly and scrambles to the back of a moving car to grab pieces of his brain matter and then pulls him down to keep him safe.

Brain matter isn’t like a finger or a toe. You can’t sew it back on. Once Jack was hit and it was exposed, it was gone. He was gone.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

It wasn’t rational to scramble across a moving vehicle when bullets were flying around her, but love motivates people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. It gives us strength to do things that we don’t know we can.

I’m in awe of its power. Always and completely.

Neil’s comment was, “then you need to write more in real time.”

Real time? But, but, but….I’m a crockpot.

I like to stew over my thoughts. Make them tender and juicy and my posts long and thought out. Every morsel tasting as delicious as the last and perfect for the leftover thoughts that they might cause. It may not be the best blog you’ve ever read, but it’s comprised of the best posts I could’ve written at the time. Real time feels like microwaved pot pies.

However, I can still have my crockpot stews. And sometimes microwaved food tastes delicious.

My friend Bill, who often comments here as “BS,” was in on this conversation and made the point that his best ideas often come when he least expects them. I agreed in that I told him that I often tell my clients to keep a notepad and pen by their bed so they don’t have to get up to write things down that come to them in the middle of the night. I do this, especially with blog ideas, and it’s fantastically helpful.

Bill commented wryly that his best ideas come in the shower. That’s often the case and he lamented that he needed waterproof paper and a pen. I laughed and encouraged shower crayons, which can be wiped off.

It makes sense to me that our best ideas come at the 2 times of day that we tend to be most relaxed (in the shower and right before bed time). Our mind finally quiets enough for us to focus and just be. So, even if you are an adult, get out the shower crayons, get out the notepad and pen, and spend some time with your thoughts.

They might surprise you.

P.S. Is this real enough for you, Neil? I wrote it within an hour.

I’ve said it before, there are times that little things happen in my day that are funny, or poignant or just strike me as something I want to share with you, but the information isn’t enough to make a full blog entry. These bits and pieces get combined into “A.J.’s Leftover” posts or “Random Thoughts” posts, but don’t be fooled! They are all things that make me think of one person: you.

So, here are some things that brought you to mind recently. Take that however you need to after reading them.

May 8, 2009
Never trust two 8 year olds who have shut themselves in a closet. They are making plans that are in no way beneficial to your well-being or that of humankind.

May 13, 2009
It drives me nuts when people that get honorary doctorates (usually celebrities) think they have any right to claim the title of “Dr.” As someone who is working to earn a Ph.D. I’m offended by this in so many ways. Mainly because I’m working for mine and paying for it as well.

June 11, 2009
Leon: A.J. called me six times this morning when I was in a meeting to ask if his game had been cancelled. (A.J. takes his baseball seriously)

June 17, 2009
You know it’s going to be a bad day when you wake up and whisper hello to your dog and she glares at you because your breathe is just that bad.

June 26, 2009
AJ: If I were a lightning bug, i would just fly wherever I wanted to go ahead and get my death over with. ((My note: What the heck?))

July 1, 2009
Me: “A.J., when you get older and become rich and famous, are you going to buy me a house?”
A.J.: (skeptical) “NO. I’ll buy you a couch. Or a bed with 14 cup holders.”
Me: (bewildered)

OH! And I’d been promising that I was going to show you the picture of me wearing my own Linda Lee necklace that I purchased in May to wear to a June wedding. Here it is. Sorry about the bewildered face and pulled back hair. We were in Arkansas and it was roughly 4000 degrees and I was in the middle of explaining how to use the camera when someone I don’t know took the picture. It’s a keeper! I got no less than 10 compliments on this necklace and all of them wanted to know where I got my stuff. I told you she was in high demand.

P.S. Don’t forget to enter my giveaway by 5pm CST today! Last chance!

Tina Fey's glasses help define her as a professional

Dorothy Parker once said, “Men seldom make passes. At girls who wear glasses.”

As a proud glass-wearing member of society, I’m wondering what gives her the idea that men are dissuaded by a good pair of specs? Frankly, I think they provide character and lend intrigue to a woman. Without them, I feel almost naked. My glasses are one more way for me to give myself a little bit of mystery.

And, let’s be honest, without them I have a bit of a moon face. There is the awful truth. It’s out and now I can’t take it back. Moony face moony face.

With my glasses, I feel smarter, more confident and, in some ways, invincible. I certainly can see, and that helps a lot. I didn’t need glasses until I was 21. I was doing support for a well-known blogging site and was spending quite a bit of time on the computer. Things began to go blurry and I started having some severe headaches. When my eyes were tested, they pronounced me with astigmatism and sent me on my way with a pair of retro shaped shades and a comment to come back yearly. And so I have.

I keep trying to make the pictures of me without glasses work, but frankly, they aren’t me and they just don’t. Being myself is sexy. Being myself is real. Besides, without my glasses, I can’t see what’s happening around me anyway, so it wouldn’t matter if someone was “passing” or not. I’d imagine it’s similar to the concept of beer goggles. I like being able to see. I think that’s sexy.

Random thoughts

April 27, 2009 Dear men,
Women want to feel desired and adored. If you can accomplish these 2 things, you will have cornered the market on your woman. Flirting is an art.
Sincerely, Me

May 1, 2009

One of the small things in life that I greatly appreciate is my mailman. Every day he brings my packages to my door instead of putting notices in my box, which effectively saves me about 18 trips a week to the post office. He does this regardless of the weather. I’m thankful for him.

May 5, 2009

I gave my final today and said goodbye to my undergraduates. The pride I feel at watching them grow this semester is not unlike the pride I’ve found in being a parent. Teaching is incredibly rewarding and I’m going to miss it while I spend more time focusing on my education.

These are not the instances that I’m addressing. I’m addressing the first loves, the best friends, the close friends, the soul mates, the people that you meet on the street that do a kindness for you. These are the people that allow you to have a piece of their heart and with that you, in turn, share a piece of yours with them like a puzzle only the two of you have any hope of completing.

When we give this part of ourselves away, we do so at a large cost. There really isn’t any going back from that point. I remember my first love quite fondly, as he was a good friend before he was anything else to me. He was sweet, funny and shy. We talk online now and then, but what strikes me so much is that it has been so long and our feelings have healed to the point where I genuinely want his happiness in a way that I wish for what he wishes for himself. I think of old friends that I haven’t seen in years and wish the best for them.

I think this is where the popularity of social networking sites such as Facebook and Myspace come in. Of course there are people that want to “stick it” to the people that hurt them so long ago, but, overwhelmingly, the feeling I get about these sites is that it is more about healing and caring than anything else. We want to know how these people are doing and if they are well. Our reason for that is not always because of them: It’s because of us. It’s because they hold onto a string attached to our emotions that we haven’t quite clipped.

I can think back to my first real crush and smile fondly. I can think of my first best friend and laugh at some of the things we’ve done in our lives. I can think of the first time someone hurt me beyond repair. There are many spots that aren’t healed and there are many that will never heal. It’s up to me to decide whether I’m going to allow those strings to continue to move me like a puppeteer or clip them and free the strings up for new events in our lives.

The man who held the door for me the other day…the old woman who smiled at me when I was stressed out about finals…the way my dogs know when I’m sad and will just lay silently next to me…the way my sister hugs me when she hasn’t seen me in a while…

April 30, 2009
Yesterday, Adrian was asking me if the purple flowers we have in our backyard were our state flower. I had no idea what our state flower was so I asked him and doubled over in laughter when he replied, “it’s the purple irish, mama!”

I had no idea. And no. We don’t have them in our backyard.

May 3, 2009

Because of the spring weather, our poor dogs have recently been plagued with ticks. We are diligently searching them and AJ has been very concerned for their health and our health, too. He asked me, with the most earnest face, “Mama, if the dogs keep ticks on them, will they get mime disease, like us?”

Me: “Will they get what, Adrian?”

Him: “Mime disease?”

It was all I could do to contain my laughter as I pictured my dogs with white powdered faces and red cheeks.

May 7, 2009
Adrian: “Mom! Dad made my toy gun LOUDER!”
Me: “Adrian, that’s awesome!” (to myself) “And I’ll take care of dad for that later.”

April 18, 2009
Today, I noticed AJ had two red spots on his face, one over each eyebrow. I was worried that he’d gotten some kind of funky sunburn so I asked him, “Adrian, what’s going on over your eyes?” and pointed to that area. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Eyebrows?” Yep. I deserved that.

April 27, 2009
Over the weekend, AJ had a baseball game and then it has become a new tradition that those of our adult friends that come to the game come over for dinner and games. AJ is particularly drawn to one friend who said he may or may not come and we were having fun leaving him a couple of silly messages while trying to find out if we should be waiting for him or go ahead with dinner plans. Then the bottom dropped out.

AJ: “Ohhh, this will be a good message.”
Me: “I can’t wait to hear it!”
AJ: *thoughtful* Hrm. Mom, Can I leave bad words on this message?
Me: NO! You cannot leave BAD WORDS on this message. You can’t say bad words in normal talking and you cannot leave it on a message.
AJ: *giggling hysterically and leaves a message berating said friend for not being at his game*
Me: *aside to the adults* “Now I’m always going to wonder what his message would have been?”

April 18, 2009
I want to heartily thank the person who decided to flush the toilet/start the dishwasher/start the wash machine while I was in the shower this morning. At that point I was still so asleep that I was cleansing myself with one eye closed and was in the middle of a deep condition for my back length hair, which takes approximately the same amount of time it would take me to read Moby Dick and slay the beast myself. I would like to take this sidebar to remind you that Karma is a fierce mistress and I will be courting her with a passion until she shows you the error of your transgressions.

April 20, 2009
The other day I was driving to school and I saw a really large African American man who looked completely “ghetto.” He had on his head-kerchief, his football jersey and walked with a swagger that would scare an U.S. Ranger. I drove up behind him and noticed something hanging from him hand. I looked off to his side and saw the smallest wiener dog I’ve ever seen in my life. As I drove in front of him, I watched him in my rearview mirror. He was cooing at that little dog like it was the most important thing in his life and dragging it along behind him while the poor thing tried to pee. Ah, love.

April 1, 2009
I can say with unequivocal authority that is is not good when your husband instant messages you when you are in the middle of the lecture and the following pops up on the powerpoint screen: “Illusions, Michael. A trick is something a whore does for money. Or candy!”

March 31, 20009
If I could see myself the way AJ sees me, I’d never doubt myself or my capabilities ever again.

Sunday, March 22, 2009
I should have had my tonsils taken out 20 years ago. You know, when the doctors said “Let’s take her tonsils out.”

Monday, March 23, 2009
When you leave me alone in an office for an hour you lose the right to be surprised when I play with your expensive doctor’s equipment.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009
It never ceases to amaze me how unselfconscious 7-8 year olds are. This occurred to me while I watched the center field on AJ’s baseball team pick his wedgie from the batter’s box to center field. There is something to be admired in it.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009
As a child, you are allowed to complain that you want to go home when you are in class. As an adult, you are allowed to leave, but are too worried about how you might look if you finally allowed yourself to ESCAPE.

Friday, March 27, 2009
I am all about instituting the siesta in the middle of the workday. A 30-minute nap would increase productivity.