Mini Blog: Baton Rouge

Hey kiddos, how's it going? I hope your weekend has been as splendid as mine has. I've been in Baton Rouge (Red Stick) since Thursday and it has been scrumtralescant! Currently I'm with Helen Butts and M'Lynn Ganey (friend them on Facebook) drinking some vino and watching Beauty and the Beast (yes, this is our pregame). Helen has been letting me "post-up" at her beautiful apartment (literally it has a men/women bathroom; two sinks and all) it's been magical. Helen says "I sound great so far", she is....NOT. Just kidding. We've all decided we're moving to London next summer, especially after watching Across the Universe today. Jim Sturgess, if you ever come across this, we are all very interested. This is the end to my mini blog for the night, I'll update you all later. Ciao! Happy Saturday, get Wydle tonight like Olivia. Tat-ta.

"Pull around to the first window, Sir."...ehhhh...

If any of you have ever spoken to me, (so the 8 people in India that are reading this blog...you know who you are...you may not get this one as well) you would understand that I have a distinct voice. Some like to call it "unique". Well. Hell. I sound like a boy going through puberty. Charming right? This "issue" used to really bother me, especially when I was a wee tot. At some point over the past year, I was watching home videos of myself (so narcissistic of me....Camille be proud of me for using such a big word) and I realized I sounded like a "bro" even when I was like 7 years old. How unfortunate. I first got "called out" on the whole "why do you sound like a boy" situation when I was in the seventh grade. I'm not sure why I'm about to tell you all this story because it makes me look like a huge dweeb. Anyways, I thought it would be funny to call in to the radio show and speak to the radio personality "Stifler" :

He used to work with my father so it's ok.

I called in to his show because they were wanting to know funny signs/billboards around the area. So....being the "hilarious" seventh grader I thought I was, I called in and told them of some idiotic sign (that they did not find humorous at all) and after I told them and was pretty humiliated he just had to take this to the next level and say "Thank you Sir, have a great day!" I cried for probs 30 minutes straight. What a let down. 

Senior year, Mrs. (Ms.?) Sermons math class. Let's just say (she was the devil) we didn't get along. After about 3/4 into the year, she knew my voice distinctly. I'll admit, I was a little Chatty-Cathy in the classroom.......anyways....So, one fifth hour of doing agonizing pointless math problems (I'm an English major now Ms/Mrs Sermons so HA) she asked a question (while looking around the room) and I answered (probably something sarcastic) and the wench looked me in the eyes and said "Was that you? I thought it was a boy, haha (old lady laugh)..." I was angry. She later felt the wrath of Sydney Fletcher when I won HONOR MENTION in the art/math project. I drew Mugatu from Zoolander with mathematical spirals for hair. Brilliant I know.

Many moons have passed since that frigid witch said those hateful things to me, many, many moons. I just pulled out the bird and told her "It's real nice, I got it at Target. It was on sale." 

Now ever since these experiences, when I'm ordering food or speaking to a stranger on the telephone I like to raise my pitch a few notches, just to avoid sobbing and going into depression mode over the fact that my voice nodules were not built correctly. But it's no big deal! 

Well gang (bangers), I'm off to eat dinner with my friends, aren't you glad you know this? BYE HAPPY HUMP DAY (Totally forgot)!

Toaster on Wheels? Or My First Car?

Happy Day of Sabbath (although there's quite the confusion whether it's Saturday or Sunday) to all. Recently I was put into an awkward (there's the title again) situation regarding my first automobile. Driving along the bumpy roads of Shreveport, an acquaintance pointed out how "horrific" Honda Elements are. You may be agreeing with this fellow but let me tell you. She was an absolute delight.

Sadly, this is the only picture I have of her. I was 16.
Please don't judge me.

Fun Fact #1: My father was the first Element owner in Shreveport. Talk about having a great title. 

Fun Fact #2: The seats fold out to become a queen sized bed (wink).

Literally.

Once upon a time, Meredith-Grace and I were waiting to pick up a fellow coworker from baseball practice. To pass our time we unfolded all of the seats and began practicing gymnastics and doing front rolls from one end to another. Thought you should know.

Fun Fact #3: It's completely water proof. So next time you may accidentally drive into a large body of water, let's go with a lake, the interior will be a-okay. (Thank the lord!!) 

Fun Fact #4: For some reason, Honda installed a card table in the trunk (Just in case you need to pull over and play a quick game of poker.)

As I was searching the worldwide web for images of
this beaut, I came across ElementOwnersClub.com

Fun Fact #5: We sold my little Georgia-peach to an Indian man in Dallas (possibly for $100...?).

Fun Fact #6: I "suped-her-up" before we sold the precious gem:

I would rather have the Creed song "Six Feet From the Edge"
playing in my ears for a week than drive this.

I hope my Fun Facts have possibly encouraged you to drive one of these bad boys around. It really was a fantastic way of transportation. Hmm. I miss the Element and the memories along with it. Good times, great oldies, 95.7. Side note: the Honda Element is in no way a "Soul" or "Cube" or "futuristic minivan" or even "a toaster on wheels", she/he (whichever you feel is necessary) is a car of her own kind. A majestic type if I may say so myself. Enjoy relaxation today folks, back to reality we go. BYE!

Thank you, Goodnight....Tip Your Waitresses.....or Don't.....

G'day Mates. Happy "Hump Day" to all. Today is actually National Lollipop Day (my favorite holiday!!!!!!!!!!!). Today, at Cascio's Market Bistro (come get the Turkey Melt, it's de-freaking-licious), I had a couple of people stiff me on the whole tip situation (anuses). It made me realize all of the different ways people have said "You suck." since I've been working there, and not just to me, but to my fellow co-workers.

Now, there's multiple "types" of "stiff-ers" out here on this planet we call Earth (pretty sure that's in a song). There's the brain surgeon who leaves you nothing, or maybe a dollar (can't complain).

Don't look into his eyes.

Then there's the "clever" stiff-er....one of my coworkers was left a handful of change and a screw, possibly a "screw you"? Or maybe nasty men leaving a dime, possibly "You're a dime piece." Except I'm pretty sure no older man uses that phrase........I hope not at least.

Next, is when you wait on the I-know-you-well-enough-to-say-hello-in-Target-but-not-enough-to-hang-out-on-the-weekend type. Usually when this happens they tip you well because there's a slight chance you may move up to the stage of being actual friends and they don't want to ruin it by being a jerk. But every now and then (I get a little bit lonely and you never come arounndddd), you do. It's worse when you see people that do this later and all you can think is "You're group of friends didn't tip me anything, even though I was an absolutely delightful waitress towards you all, therefore, no more chances at the friend zone."

My favorite tipper...not a stiffer, a tipper.... (That's what she said.)...is the "magician".

The "magical" tipper is one who plays mind games. (I got a detention freshman year for playing mind games with a substitute, Mr. Adams, Byrd grads understand, and no I'm not joking.) One customer of the bistro comes in and automatically tips you (before you can even show them you're not good at waitress-ing....nice), but the catch is that you have to be the member of the audience making a fool of yourself to earn the dough. His words, "Now, I'm going to show you a magic trick and if you get it right, you can keep the money. I'm going to take these five ones (A WHOLE FIVE DOLLARS!!) and bend them in many ways, if you can guess whether they're upside down or right side up, you get them." It's stupid because even if you get it wrong (I do every time... he's a frequent customer) you still get the money. Might I add that after his magic tricks he asks for bread sticks, not just one pack either, like seven. Pretty sure he's stocked up by now.

That's all for today folks. Happy Wednesday to all, and to all a goodnight!

Petco. Where the Crazies Go?

What a beautiful morning. Really it's quite grey outside, probably humid. But other than that, what a beautiful morning. It's been a few days and I deeply apologize. Exciting news this morning: My Awkward Blog reached 100 visits from July 12-this morning! Lets keep it coming homo-sapiens.
Recently, I got my precious feline, Totes, spayed and declawed. Me and Totes:

What a gem.

 Might I say she was a trooper. When I go to pick her up from the vet (aka Hell-on-Earth when dealing with a feline), they told me all of the supplies I needed to get (just new litter, not sure why I made it sound troublesome) to help her adjust to becoming a new woman. Totes and I venture on over to  "Petco. Where the Pets Go." I figured I could find "pellet-clumping-kitty-litter" (that sounds disgusting) on my own, but needless to say I was mistaken. I go up to the front to find a 35-40 year old man who probably is still living at home (Step Brothers Quote: Brennan was going to be moving into his own place, but he was recently let go from his job at PetSmart.) and who was extremely sweaty (?):

 I asked him about the litter since my feline had just gotten surgery and he became high and mighty on my arse and started naming 10+ kitty litter brands. I told him "I just need pellets." He begins speed walking (literally almost running), so I just stood at the counter as he ran off and he looked at me and said "Its this way." As if my out-of-shape self can even keep up with that. He finally shows me the right litter and grabs a massive bag of it. Probably 40 lbs or more, hands it over to me as I am brought down by gravity and runs away again. Back at the counter when I'm about to leave this AWKWARD (it's in the title) situation, I was taken aback by this:

Not this exact person, but eerily similar. She (?) began talking to the "Sweater" about how the "Panther Crawler (?)" had finally been purchased (Thank God!). They began chatting about how relieved they were that this crawler had been bought and how they would miss it cuddling with them while at the Petco. I got the hell out of there realllllll quick. Why do I end up in strange situations similar to this one? No one knows. But they do make for exciting stories. TGIF mofos. G'day mates, let's put anotha shrimp on the barbie. Let's not. BYE.

P.s. Has anyone else wondered why dog treats are starting to look way better than human food? No? Yeah, me neither....

For the Love of Pets

Exactly when is one's love for a pet too much to stand? I'll be the first to admit that my dad's love for our dog, Baxter, is pushing the limits. Now, if you were one of those kids who dressed their dogs up in clothes and talked to them like human beings (don't tell me I was the only one) then that's acceptable, unless you were 13+ (just for the kids that may have done it for too long). For example, this was my families Christmas card picture when I was... let's go with 7:

This is slightly creepy.

So this picture may be pushing the limits but hey, you have to admit it is pretty funny. Now when I was in 6th grade (PETA members do not read.) my friend Amanda Mabry and I came up with an interesting game of hide-and-go-seek. Instead of us hiding from each other (playing with just two people is always boring, admit it.) we decided it would be much more entertaining to hide my dog, Snickers. Meet Snickers: 

She's not the most "fit" dog out there, but she's a lover not a fighter. She's also about 50 lbs overweight and standing tall at maybe a foot from the ground....maybe. When I say we used to "hide my dog" I don't mean under a blanket....we would hide her in my dresser drawers, in pillow cases, etc. Really responsible. Mom, if you never knew this, you know now. Sorry. 

Hiding your pets, or dressing them in clothes is pretty acceptable, or maybe I'm just saying this so I'll feel better about myself. However, one limitation on loving your pet comes from the internet, and by this I mean Facebook. Giving your a pet a Facebook can sometimes be funny (Taffy Ray is my pledge sister Courtney Ray's dog, friend her, it was recently the Maltese's birthday) but when you actually pretend to be a dog and give the dog Facebook statuses, it's a little much. Who in their right mind would do this you may ask? Well, I'll tell you. My father. Tim Fletcher. Here are a few statuses that my birth father, the man I call "Dad" has written (don't judge, I beg you...): all you humans whining about the heat. grow some hair, let it cover you from head to toe---and then---this is where it gets good, when you have to potty, you go OUTSIDE! Yeah... this heat stinks; the joy of a cool floor is infinitely more enjoyable than "spa days" for you ladies, or "grab sports illustrated and head to the master bathroom" for pops; and What's up party people? Finals have been a "bear"! Whoo! hardest part about studying?? keeping the "patron" chilled inside my kennel!! Whoop Whoop! Who's with me?

So if you think your parents talking to your dog, or maybe your room mate only wanting to spend time with their cat is abnormal, just go friend "Baxter Bear Fletcher" on Facebook and be thankful. Hope this brightens your Monday, good evening, and goodnight.

The Good, The Bad...Lafayette

Tomorrow, me and three best friends embark on a journey to Lafayette in honor of Haley Sanders birthday (look her up on Facebook and wish her a happy birthday Saturday). I've been to Laffy-town twice before this trip and it wasn't quite sunshine and rainbows (if that's even a phrase...). September of 2009, I went to Lafayette to visit Haley, Mallory, and Hannah for a Wednesday night at the Keg. I nominated myself (worst idea ever) to be the DD to the bar and once we got there I would begin my drinking. But not so fast. As all of my friends and the people they were with were getting rowdy, I'd been waiting in line for a Bud Light, just one simple beer. After thirty minutes of twiddling my thumbs and trying to flirt with the bartender (second worst idea) I finally found Haley and begged her "Haley, I've been waiting in line for thirty minutes and all I want is a beer." With ease she gets it for me and in return she asks if I venture to the restroom with her, fair trade, fair trade. So as we stand in line, I sip my beer graciously (sorry for the family members reading this. This may come off as a surprise to you, but yes, I do drink) and happily thinking to myself "The night has just begun", when all of a sudden some drunken sleaze (nicest words I can manage) decides to bump into me in the line and looks at me in the face and then...........she vomits all over my body. Not just my feet, but from my chest to my toes, and on Haley's feet. Then, I realize the "bar-wench" had cut her foot, so being the NICEST PERSON ON PLANET EARTH, I helped her clean up her foot, pretty sure I even got her a band-aid. After that, mind you I've had a few sips of beer, we catch a cab (so responsible) back to Haley's so I can change my vomit clothes. After that, we head to the Kappa Sig house, where we find two friends of ours from Baton Rouge. They decide they want Canes, I couldn't agree more. We end up at Haley's apartment around 3, I decide my nights over, no need to make things worse, so I hit the hay. THEN. 4:30. Someone pulled the fire alarm and everyone had to evacuate the apartments for at least an hour. I had a hatred towards Laf-city (I just realized I've changed it's name every time) until the following December where I returned and had a delightful time. So, we shall see if this weekend is a hit or miss, I'll keep all of you posted, not that many of you even care besides my Dad. But it's alright. ENJOY THE WEEKEND. Can't seem to get this song out of my head, so I'll put it in yours: Ghostland Observatory

Paranormal Activity

Some of you may have heard about my dad's home being haunted by a little tot. No? Well...what a delight. I shall share some stories with you. The first "sighting" of the wee girl was by my step-sister, Caroline, who woke up one morning, sat up in bed, looked in the mirror and there was a small girl leaning over her headboard holding a red ball. When she told us this, we figured she was just being a teenager, full of angst and needed attention (you still are Caroline), and we didn't pay attention to her (how loving). But as days passed, and the weeks went by, we kept having odd encounters. My dad would be in the shower, completely alone in the house, and he would hear my step-mom's voice clearly calling his name, but no one was home. Vise-versa on her end. My ultimate fave: We rent out our back apartment to "Cousin Thomas" and when he has friends over they usually park in the front, so one of his lady-friends (tee-hee) had left and the next day saw my dad at their shared occupation and she said "Tim, I didn't know you had a daughter younger than Caroline or Syd." This took him by surprise and basically she had seen a young girl, around 4-5, with long brown hair, standing in the window at early hours in the morning just brushing her hair. No one in our family has long brown hair. So, that's pleasant. There are possibly 25+ more stories to tell (want to hear the rest? e-mail me at myawkwardblog@gmail.com and I'll for sure give you the willies) but the main reason for this post was because my friend Haley and I were going by my dads to check on the pups when we experienced an unpleasant feeling as we were walking up the stairs. Once we went inside I went into the living room to look for something, I have no idea what for. As soon as I walked in there, Haley was still in the front foyer and saw the dog gates that block the stairs (two large science-board like poster boards that we painted to look nice) move completely. So she freaked out a little, but I didn't believe her because Haley lies about everything because she thinks its funny. So we go into the kitchen to feed the dogs and as we're leaving I said "Ok, tell me what you saw again." She explained it again and as we were leaving I looked back towards the stairs and saw a shadow, but instead of it being a black shadow, it was light grey, like the color of a Macbook Pro (no, they aren't advertising) and I did a double-take and it was gone. Scared the living crap (as opposed to the dead crap?) out of me. I told Hals I had just seen something and right after I said that, the dogs starting freaking out and we got the hell out of there. You may be wondering "Why wouldn't you move if this has been going on for 8 years?" I ask myself that exact question every time something does happen, and my dad's response is always "It has character." And that's why my family may be the strangest, maybe most naive, family out there. Enjoy your Wednesday poopskies, and don't forget, have a good blog topic worth posting about? E-mail me at myawkwardblog@gmail.com. TTYL YALL.