Snap Chat (Part I)

     For the past five months, I've been collecting all of the Snap Chats that make me giggle like a little school girl. I've blurred out the faces on the ones that I felt could potentially be viewed as degrading, so no need to be pissing your pants right now. Here we go:

"It's not my fault I have a heavy flow and a wide-set vagina."


 

During the holidays you always have to look for the positives.

I'm genuinely jealous that I don't work somewhere that has themed days of work.

Halloween in New Orleans.

I call this one "Self-Portrait."

"Yes, it's natural, asshole!"

Free piglets if you bring your ticket stub back in a few months.

Slightly terrifying.

Hell yeah, stick it to 'em.

Best Buy dumps truly leave you with wisdom.

I have more than 70 Snaps in my possession as of now, do not fear, I'll protect your identity when needed most. Love ya. Stay tuned for Part II. 

I Ran a 5K and I'm Still Sore.

     I haven't written a post since March, so cut me some slack here. Hope you enjoy, and do not worry, I will have another post by the end of this week. 

     To kickstart my birthday weekend, I participated in the Regional Urology "ZERO Prostate Cancer" 5K. I know what you are thinking, 'She did what? Something consisting of physical activity?!' It is true. Things have changed since March, get with the program y'all.
    
     My dad's radio show crew agreed we would all participate in the race considering Regional Urology is one of our biggest sponsors. We arrived at the Sci-Port parking lot around 7:30 in the morning and mingled with some fellow runners (you know it's pathetic when I just laughed after writing that because I can not categorize myself as a runner) when we realized that half of "Team Fletch" was (surprisingly) not registered. Derp. Quickly, we got in the registration line. After about ten minutes of standing in the sun and twiddling our thumbs, we realized that the "registration line" hadn't moved the slightest bit. Noticing the line of people next to us, my intelligent father asked "Is that the registration line?" It was. "Oh, good. We've just been standing here wanting to look at all of you people instead."The lady at the desk did not think it was very humorous, more along the lines of moronic.

     We were finally registered and they gave us our race t-shirts (which were made of fabric that even angels would want to lounge in, excellent job R.U.) to change into so that we were all matching. I'm not sure if that is really the purpose of everyone wearing the same shirts, but it is my best assumption. Not once looking for a private changing area, my modest family found the nearest equipment trailer (that'll do champ!) to swap our tops. Aly (the stepmother) managed to change shirts without showing any skin (very skilled) and dad could have been a hooker on Bourbon the way he removed his shirt. I looked around to make sure no one was looking and forewarned them that I was going to change as quickly as possible, no matter what the cost. I removed my shirt (stupidly) when Aly gasped, pointed, then grabbed my ribcage and shrieked "WHAT IS THAT?!" I got a tattoo almost two years ago down the side of my ribcage and had been hiding it swimmingly since the day the needle touched my skin (graphic...). How could I have forgotten? I became very frightened and started mumbling things like "Oh...that old thing?"and "Shit..." under my breath. They took the tat fairly well and only asked me one question: "Is that why you can never come on our beach trips?" It was. Just kidding. Well, about fifty percent. 

     After we got that little encounter out of the way, we lined up for the race and I decided it would be a nice early Father's Day present if I kept my pace slow and ran with my dad. I also realized that I was in better shape than my dad, not by much, but enough to outlast him in a 5K. I knew that if I was going to need a break at some point, he probably would too. So, by walking with him, I wouldn't like I was tired,  I would like a sweet daughter, hanging back with my dad, even though I was clearly capable of running an entire marathon (duh). 

     We had a steady pace coming up on the first mile marker. Conveniently (and humiliatingly), there was a timer that showed how slow you were going and made you feel worthless (just kidding). At this point, I'd already lost the feeling in my feet but dear-old-dad and I continued running (jogging slower than fast-paced-walking). I looked at the timer thinking it would say fifteen minutes or something embarrassing and began shouting "Dad! We're doing pretty good! We finished the mile in 00:08:52!" Which led to high-fiving (warning: never break concentration) and my dad saying "Man! We're really booking it!" 

     We ended up running/jogging/fake-running the entire time and I will be the first to tell you that I have never run steadily for more than a mile in my life so I was very proud of myself. After we got water and Gatorade to ensure that we didn't fallout, we stood around talking to some folks for a good bit which led to the realization that the first mile marker was actually a few minutes off (seriously). After the high-fiving, me telling people "Yeah, me and dad were under nine minutes at the first mile!", shoving our pride down the weak's throats, we actually ended up running a twelve-minute mile (which is not something to be bragging and/or high-fiving about). 

     Naturally, we left the race and gorged on greasy food at George's all the while maintaining consciousness and keeping it together as if running three miles was an everyday thing. 

Blonde

     Recently, the number of people who have asked me if I dye my hair, or get a perm, has increased dramatically. To start, the answer is no, I do not dye my hair, even though when it's straight it does look like I received a bad ombre job:

A little exaggerated, but you get the idea.

     This past weekend, I began to worry about how many people thought I was lying about my hair when I realized: A) "haters gone hate" and B) I have experienced too many "dumb blonde" moments for this accusation to be true. 

     At Voodoo Cafe this past weekend, we were downstairs listening to some live music. I was really starting to feel the beat (just kidding) when I felt someone touching my hair. I turned around, and it was a guy around my age with very long hair (hellur'). I said hello (fearing that I had already met this person) and he began to tell me that my "hair is crrraaaaaazzzzzyyyyy". I said thank you, but that wasn't the end of this ecstasy (who knows?) driven fiend. He persistently asked me if it was real (nope, it's weave!) and there was just "no way" that it was natural. I stopped talking to him before my internal instincts kicked in: protect the value of the locks. 

    The next night, it happened maybe four or more times in different places. How would you feel if I came up to you and pulled your hair proclaiming that it was a wig? WOULDN'T FEEL TOO GOOD, WOULD IT? 

"Dumb Blonde Moments" by Sydney Fletcher:

     Who honestly knows the length of the Red River? Apparently, everyone. One day this past summer, some friends and I took the boat out onto the ol' Red. We drove quite a ways down Highway 1 and loaded near the dam (I think?). We passed under this red...railroad? Bridge? Structure. I asked (please withhold judgment) "oh is that the Barksdale Bridge?". Immediately, the boys of the group began to harass me. After clearly being embarrassed (when I say clearly, I mean my face turns the shade of blood and against my (real) blonde hair I look like a blonde tomato) they asked me if I knew how long the river was. I'm sorry that I don't frequent the Red River enough to know that it isn't only from the casinos to about a mile past the Dickson's farm. Okay, that's not an excuse. But, whatever. 

     The other day, I had purchased some new clothes and was delighted to show Madeline my new threads (gnar). I showed her a couple and then I held up this adorable yellow blouse that I had been excited about buying for quite some time. Her reaction wasn't what I was expecting. After seeing Madeline's puzzled look, I asked her what the deal was. She looked at me and this was our conversation:

M: "Don't you already have that shirt?" 

S: "No.......do I?!"

M: "Didn't I wear your shirt like this on my birthday?"

S: "Oh my gosh...I hadn't worn it yet so it never sank into my brain that it was mine..."

M: "........................................."

S: "I bought two of the same shirts."

This is the one. Don't worry, I wear a camisole. 

     Last week, one of my dearest friends, Remy, came in town. We were all over at Hannah's and I wanted to show her my new house (the Manor). I was so excited to see her reaction because the last house I lived in with Mal was atrocious. We all drove over there and got out of the cars when I realized I had left my keys at Hannah's house. Derp. Granted, we've all done the whole "Where is my phone?!" to realize it's in your hand, but the amount of times this happens to me is unbeknownst. 

     Shopping with my mom one day, I had one of those buggies with the giant pole connected to it (just in case you're feeling the five-finger-discount on a grocery cart...sigh.) and was admiring one the advertisements hanging from the ceiling. Besides being blonde, I am ADD (I've been this way since I was six, so for all of you people with fake ADD...get on up outta here.) and I started to go back and forth with my (I could make an extremely sexual reference by saying pole, but I won't...oops) cart pushing the ad like a swing (how fun) when all of the sudden the damn sign fell off of the hooks and I was pummeled by a 20-ft. advertisement. 

     Hannah W. and I went to Discount Builders Material to see if they had any treasures. They did. I found a hammock chair that hangs from a hook in the ceiling for only twenty dollars. Sold. Before I purchased my find, I wanted to make sure it would work. They had one hanging on the cinder-block wall by a nail so I casually went up to it (this is so stupid) with Hannah making sure no one was around/watching and "tested" it out. Failed that test. I started off by barely putting any weight on it and gradually trusting the chair. When I realized it was holding all of my weight, I stood back up and looked at Hannah and said "3-2-1 GO!". Right when I said "go" I lifted my feet up and then the rest is a blur of me getting knocked out by the pole it hangs on while sprawled out on the floor. Hannah was keeled over, trying not to wet herself, and I turned around to see that I had physically busted the cinder-block and sent that nail flying across the store. We left immediately (but after I bought the one I hadn't used as a weapon). 

It looks so inviting.

     I'd like to think that I'm an intelligent person, and I would hope that people (at least Mom and Dad) would stand by that. Everyone has their "blonde" moments, just some more than others. The point of this post was to let all of you speculators out there know that my hair is naturally blonde. One time, Hannah D. and I tried to dye my hair brown our sophomore year of high school and it turned burgundy. After that, I didn't touch hair coloring anymore. Sorry again about that, Mom (she was not happy with me). 

I think that the lesson learned today is to not judge a book by it's cover...or terrible hair roots.

 Have a good week everyone! I'll be going to Baton Rouge this weekend for Chi O formal and St. Patty's Day activities, so make sure to keep up with the blog because every time I'm in Baton Rouge, we always end up with a weird story. Love you. Bye.

Austin, TX

     For this past New Year's Eve, we rounded up a crew of ten goons ready to take an adventure to put in the books. Five of them backed out because they didn't think they could handle it and one of them has Crohn's Disease (we tried to convince them early before the trip that it wasn't a good idea for the ride). The original five knew our place in which destiny was leading us and took a little trip where the beer flows like wine. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. I'm talking about a little place called Austin.

     We decided to leave early...three o'clock in the afternoon "at the latest", but we did not put into the equation that three of the slowest moving human beings were a part of our five-some: Madeline, Austin, and Kathleen. The whole point of us leaving during the afternoon was the fact that Madeline can not drive in the dark because she absolutely can not see. We ended up leaving around 6:30 and as we're pulling onto the interstate from Kings Highway, we had to turn around because God forbid we make this drive without an auxiliary cord (which we had a similar device that also charged the phone/iPod). By seven o'clock we were off to see the wizard.

     Our first stop was at a rinky-dink gas station in the middle of nowhere. It was a Mexican themed (if that's the appropriate term...) gas station that sold Mexican lunches...and "Gourmet Pizzas" (yikes). We went to use the restroom and ran into a small crew who looked as though they were in high school, gambling on the video poker machines. Ramsey and I went to the restroom first (one bathroom for men and women to share; one stall) and as we walked out, a cowboy took his turn to drain the main vein (sorry). Kathleen and Madeline were looking around the store waiting for their turn but the cowboy jumped the gun. After twenty minutes, we began to worry, then we started to gross ourselves out, and after Austin purchased two lottery tickets that he "knew would win because they're from a random gas station" we hit the road.

     After about an hour back on the road, Madeline and Kathleen still hadn't used the restroom and we were all hungry. At 8:55 we pull into a Subway. They closed at 9. The two girls working absolutely hated us because after the five of us walked in, another group of people assumed that if the five us were doing it, then so should they. Rebellion! After talking about all of us under their breath, we paid the angry workers. Next stop, Austin. Well, I actually fell asleep until we were pulling into Austin, so they may have made another pit-stop. So...next stop, Austin.

     After getting lost several times in the actual city, we finally made it to Kathleen's house where we ate about six pounds of different gourmet cheeses each and passed out.

     We woke up in the early afternoon and once we all got ready, we headed to South Congress to explore.  Our first restaurant to eat at in Austin was Guero's Taco Bar. All I can really say about it was that it was delicious but the salsa they gave the table to share was the size of salsa that an ant village would bring to a fellow ants quinceanera.

Guero's Taco Bar

     After we ate, we went to Lucy in Disguise, a costume store, full of the most fabulous costumes/wigs/masks/magic I've ever seen. I purchased a blue wig that I was going to wear that night with one of my many sequined outfits that I had packed. 

     After Lucy in Disguise, we tried to go to Uncommon Objects. I now realize that my parents adopted me because anyone can put the context clues together and realize I was born in this store. Unfortunately, it was closing early due to the holidays. We ran into some folks from Shreveport at Stag and after that realized it was six o'clock and we needed to go get alcohol and get ready.

     We walked into Spec's, an alcoholic's Disney World, without a doubt. It was insane. Each of us bought a bottle of champagne and then our personal drink of choice. I got Fat Tire due to my fathers great taste in beer. I'm thankful for him passing it down to me. After spending an hour in alcohol land, we went home to get ready. Austin and Ramsey got ready first and began drinking heavily. By the time Madeline, Kathleen, and I were close enough to being ready that we were able to begin drinking, Rams and Austin were wasted. We were ready for a night out on 6th Street.

     Kathleen called her friends usual cab driver, Big C, to come and get us. Once he arrived, we all immediately fell in love with him. He was a huge black man with the voice of Morgan Freeman.

Big C and I.

     He dropped us off on 6th, and we went to Maggie Mae's. After paying to get in, we all ordered drinks and began to make our way upstairs, first stopping to watch these people grind:

Get it.

     Once we got to the second floor, Austin and Ramsey were hanging out on the balcony which overlooked the inside of the bar. Austin casually waved his hand, knocking Ramsey's beer over the balcony onto a girl on the first floor. Ramsey looked at the girl from over the balcony, slowly raised her hands, and gave the girl a puzzled look. They walked down there and the girl told Ramsey "I'm going to slap you if you don't buy me another beer." And then the ambulance was called moments later. Just kidding. Ramsey told her that wasn't necessary and they got her a beer, full of Visine eye drops that caused instant DIARRHEA, asshole. Just kidding, again. 

     I met a stranger named Rob on the dance floor (we found love in a hopeless place) who enjoyed making people feel uncomfortable as much as I did. We were hanging out near the balcony when this man told us how lovely we seemed as a couple. My immediate response was "Thank you! We just eloped yesterday!" to which Rob followed up with "It's true, she's pregnant! With twins!" The man seemed skeptical of our story, considering the fact I had a double drink in my hand. I told him it was just cranberry juice. We made him kiss my stomach. Then we went up to six different people and told them the same story, only a couple of them kissed my pregnant stomach. One girl looked at me with pure disgust and said "Um, you like really shouldn't be drinking if you're pregnant" and I said "Oh! It's okay, they're going to be popping out partying!" She rolled her eyes and then I explained her to her that I was not pregnant to which her reply was "Ugh, I knew that." You betcha.

     Once Big C came back to get us, he drove us to Taco Cabana, the Mexican Whataburger, which ended up taking literally an hour and half. Fortunately, he was good enough of friends with all of us (Kathleen) that he turned his meter off. Only after us promising him an extremely generous tip. I waited in the car because I was pouting. Finally, everyone came back, except Austin. Shouting began, "Where is Austin?! He was supposed to come out here an hour ago!" Austin had taken a nap in the bathroom for almost an entire hour. 

     We made it home, and we all snuggled up in our beds while visions of quesadillas danced in our heads.

     The next morning we went to eat at The Oasis. They had a spaceship that visitors could take pictures in: 

     We packed our things and hit the road. If you've ever driven to Baton Rouge or Austin, you may have noticed the prestigious dining hall, Penny's Diner. Of course we had to go in since none of us had before (wonder why...). Our waiter was terrifying and extremely chatty. A man came up and brought us a chair so we weren't crammed in a booth but the booths there were MASSIVE and we were fine. He ended up just scaring us. 

     I hope you all had a lovely New Years whatever you ended up doing. Here's a group shot of us from Maggie Mae's to end it on, love you: 

I'm going on a date with someone from the gas station.

     Well. The title is based on a true story but in all actuality is quite false. I was in a joyous mood at the local Valero when I noticed this bizarre machine full of mouth-watering treats. After staring at this beautiful machine for a couple of minutes, I asked the young boy (meaning about the age of eight) next to me "What exactly does that marvelous contraption produce?" or at least something along the lines of that. It was a milkshake machine...in the middle of the Valero. Truly wonderful. After conversing with my new friend, I waited in line to purchase my drink of choice. An older man and his grandson/son/significantly-younger-friend were behind me glancing at the food section. This Valero is new and has a mini restaurant inside. I know. Milkshakes and a miniature restaurant? What more could a girl ask for? Absolutely nothing. The older man's grandson/son/significantly-younger-friend took notice to the boudin balls. For some reason, I decided to offer my opinion and told them how delicious they were. I'm not sure why I did this because I've never had one from this Valero. Basically, I was in such a good mood that I was beginning to make up lies just as an excuse to talk to strangers. Upsetting. The older man began to tell me that his son/...let's just call him Jake...Jake worked at a place that had delectable boudin balls, Bergeron's. My body filled with extreme excitement as I announced "Bergeron's! My roommate's family owns that!" If you haven't tried Bergeron's Boudin and Cajun Meats you really need to. Crawfish pies, meat pies, barbecue sandwiches, and all sorts of Cajun foods will you seduce you once you go inside. We chatted about my roommate and what a coincidence it was that we were speaking...I don't know...when all of the sudden the older man asked me if I was single. Usually, I would say no and make up some boyfriend of mine who is a member of Cirque du Soleil, but for this man I was honest and told him that unfortunately I was taken by all seven of my boyfriends (exhausting). Just kidding, I admitted to being single. He then proceeded to tell me about "Jake" being single as well and that we should go out sometime. I became awkward and then the stuttering began and I proceeded to walk backwards out of the Valero.

     Recently, we had to have a plumber come to our house because after one of our "house warming parties" someone decided to blow the toilet up. We purchased some insane type of drano called "Liquid Fire" that was literally liquid fire. This may be a little inappropriate for me to say, but the shit was literally steaming. After pouring the volcanic acid down almost all of the drains (just for shits and giggles...get it? Ba dum tsh...), I took the gloves off (besides recommending gloves while using the product, it also advised users to wear an "entire face shield") and realized that duct tape was inside of them and it was stuck to my fingers. Later on, we realized that the liquid fire had burned through the rubber gloves and onto my skin. It was really cool and exciting, kind of like a game of "Who Can Burn through the Highest Amount of Objects". We called the plumber immediately and the four residents of the Kirby Manor divided up the cost. Ali and I needed to go through the bank to get the dough so Grady, Ali, and I went on an adventure to hell. After leaving the bank, we stopped at the Circle K to grab some snacks so we could give Madeline the exact change because that's how frugal we are (don't judge). I grabbed a pack of gum (I was starving) and got in the line as the other members of my crew checked out all of the healthy selections that the convenient store offered. While checking out, I could see into the parking lot and I noticed a rather large black woman pull up. She was talking on her cellphone and as she got out, her strapless dress came down and my eyes were burned with the image of her entire bosom...nipple (I loathe that word) and all. This would all happen while Grady and Ali were nowhere near for us to share the experience. Literally, with tears in my eyes, all I could do was look at them and tell them we needed to leave. Soon. Ahh...my eyes are watering as I'm typing because that boob is just staring through my soul.

     For New Years, we went to Austin, but that's going to have to be another blog post. Happy New Year mofos. Peace, love, and drive-by nipple sightings.