Go Carts Are NOT Cool

Strange Title for my Post . . . I know. Well, that was the subject of an email I received this morning. Well, not exactly, but close. It actually said, "Go carts are cool."

So, I curiously opened it. It was from one of those "let us set you up with our son" kind of things. I am learning not to trust friends or relatives to set me up with anyone. The last friend that set me up to meet a guy didn't realize that he was living in a motel and only interested in the kind of women that might visit him there. This guy was actually the son of a guy at my mother's church. His father had coerced my mom into giving him my email. He thought it might be fun to set us up.

I am posting the email as it was quite shocking. Names and identifying information have been changed to protect the innocent (his poor, poor parents). This was a fascinating email. I was speechless after reading it.

RE: Go Carts Are Cool

Now that I have your attention. haha. Who could resist opening an email with that title. Hi my name is ______. My dad told me I should email you. What's up when your own parents are pimping you out. I hope you didn't pay them anything. haha. Anyways, my dad is _______. He said he met you and you were nice & I should write you. Geez, dad. I all growed up, quit bossing me around will ya? haha. Well a little about myself, my name is _______. Hey wait, I already said that didn't I? Hmm. I'm 35. I live in Plano. I like puppies and long walks on the beach, and laying in the grass looking at clouds and imagining that they are puppies or long walks on the beach. hahano let's see personally i like smoking crack cocaine, beating up homeless people, gambling on the special olympics, and porn. just kidding. well except the porn. i mean hey, with the internet just shoving it in your face like that, it's rude not to look at it. haha. kidding. So me and a couple of guys from work the other day decide to hit the strip clubs. You know, I guess they're just not for me. I just couldn't understand why all the dancers just kept waving their penises at us. hahaha! jokes & jokes & jokes. that's one of my favorites.Based on absolutely no information at all, uou sound like someone I'd really like to get to know better, or so I've been told. haha.So if you'd like to know more about me, on with the show. You got questions? I got answers? Wait, I think I'm now quoting Radio Shack slogans for some reason. C'est la vie! Anywho. So after you go, it's my turn. We'll ask deeply interesting and awkwardly painful questions back and forth. Sound like fun? And you have to answer honestly. Don't be shy. Ask away. But let's save the "kinky" stuff for later. I don't put out on the first email. hahaha - more like 5th or 6th - hahahaOr we can skip all this and go out and see what happens - I promise - no groping - unless of course you use the safe word "fudgesicle" and then I'll know it's cool to cop a little feel - hahahaha

That was the end. Amazing! After a quick push of the FORWARD button on my email, I responded to his father as to why his son couldn't find a date.

So, that is all for today. I love you guys (again as though many of you are reading this), and I am out of here!

Maybe this is why I didn't get invited to Regent . . . see next post!

Mundane Task #1

While I could share a number of things with you all. I will refrain. I am tired. I had to brush my teeth before going to bed, so I filmed that. I thought it would be refreshing to document the mundane tasks that we accomplish everyday without thinking about them. I hope that you enjoy and always remember to brush your teeth! A special note to my regular readers (as though there are so many of you): blog your own mundane task video. Let me know it is there, so I can check it out. Good night!

We're going on a trip . . .

We’re going on a trip . . . (a game played on the flight home after interviewing for Regent’s PhD program)
This is an age old traveling game. It always starts like this, “I’m going on a trip, and in my bag I’m taking a . . . “ Beginning with A and proceeding through the alphabet, you take a letter and name something that you will pack. The game gets progressively harder as with each subsequent turn, you must remember a longer chain of items packed in the suitcase.
Here is a transcript from Heather and I’s game:
I’m going on a trip and in my suitcase I will bring. . . .
. . . . . An Aspirin.
. . . . . A blue bath mat
. . . . . Curlers
. . . . . A Duck (this was particularly funny as we had a duck traveling with us this weekend)
. . . . . A Tiny Elephant (to be friends with the duck)
. . . . . Fudge
. . . . . Grease (the movie or for your hair; I’m not sure)
. . . . . Hair pins
. . . . . Interest
. . . . . A Jump Rope
. . . . . A Kite
. . . . . Lip Medex
. . . . . Money
. . . . . Noodles from Vietnam
. . . . . An Open Mind
. . . . . Pretty Princess Dress
. . . . . Quiet
. . . . . Red Lipstick (to clash with the pink in the pretty princess dress)
. . . . . Safety Kit (this was said right after we heard a scary noise in the airplane)
. . . . . Timer
. . . . . Ugly House Shoes
. . . . . Voucher
. . . . . Wildwood (this was our second attempt; we forgot the first; both of us)
. . . . . Xanax (or Valium or any other anxiolytic drug to calm our nerves while flying)
. . . . . Yo-yo
. . . . . Zebra-striped sweater (I needed a sweater of any kind this weekend; it was very cold)

Heather loves to play these games. Actually not. She even looked at me a bit strangely when I suggested it. I feared that she might even refuse to play. What she didn’t know was the whole purpose was to get her mind off of the take-off process. And it worked for the most part. We are now safely flying at 28,000 feet in the air, and she never even had a panic attack. Pretty smart . . . even if it was just a game I learned in Kindergarten.

Funniest Things by Brandi and Heather

I saw a man that could be a stunt double for Rainbow Brite in the DFW airport on Thursday. He sported a multi-colored argyle sweater, orange belt and turquoise socks. Quite a sight to behold!

Brilliant planning is middle seat, writer guy on the outside, carry on too big to go under the seat in front of me - magazines, gum, snacks, and breath stuff releated to the overhead bin.



Somewhat-phobic, slightly-hypocondriacal friend assigned to drive through the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.


Slightly-manic, definitely-taunting friend decides to obsess about the depth, breadth, and wonder of the claustrophobic deep, dark, underwater tunnel - drawing back to scary childhood memories. New form of immersion therapy! No Freudian slip intended.



Light-Free Cigarette Substitute . . . use where smoking is prohibited, do not lite up!



Going first on the introduction phase of stupid, nerve-wracking PhD interview. Brilliant move. There is a reason the last shall be first.

Eating shellfish at Captain George's All-You-Can-Eat-Fresh-Fish-Buffet when you know you have a slight allergy to large quantities of shellfish! It doesn't quite add up.




Watching man at adjacent table eating a least 25 live crabs as though he thought they might eat him first. Smelling his wife's smoke filled breath as she eats a giant piece of cheescake with her nicely manicured "man hands." I wonder which of them will die first!


Waking up without a requested wake-up call on the morning of our Regent interview ("Sometimes we have these computer glitches," replied Cheryl.)


Being mocked endlessly by locals who couldn't grasp the fact that driving over a twenty mile bridge in the middle of the ocean was a novelty to us landlocked Dallas-ites.



Finding out that a Self-proclaimed Snow-boarding White Boy was our Hibachi Chef at Shoguns (AKA - Petie) while sitting next to an adult juvenile wearing fake eyelashes and fangs! Who said that our end of the table would be more fun if we were drinking! Imagine the nerve.

Sunset in Virginia

A collection of pictures

A collection of pictures having lunch with my friend in Colonial Williamsburg.

She had Chicken Crepes. I had Eggs Meurette. She had tea. I had a Coke.

It was a great little place called Blue Talon Bistro.