oh, snap - this shit just got real!

So...I love "The Real World."

And before you rush to judge me, hear me out.

Those of you that know me, know that I am (or claim to be) a pop culture junkie. I enjoy reality TV (but even I have limits - I won't hesitate to channel flip as soon as "Hogan Knows Best" comes on the VH1), and I indulge in some of my favorite supermarket tabloids.

I enjoy some other shows, some "quality" shows as well. And I read. Literature.

But heaven help me, I love "The Hills" (if you ask me, Audrina is only setting herself up for heartbreak, and Heidi knows that she is a backstabbing bitch), and I don't exactly avert my eyes when I hear Hilary Duff crooning, "cause perfect, doesn't seem so perfect..." telling me that "Newport Beach" is on the telly.

However, I digress.

I love "The Real World."

I used to be a loyal fan for several seasons. Hawaii hooked me, I was nuts for New Orleans, and I was mesmerized by Miami. I've found some of the most recent "Real Worlds" to be a little lackluster. Albeit Brooke was pretty entertaining last season, I just wasn't captivated.

And while there isn't one character (that's right, these perpetuated stereotypes on the show are merely characters to me) that I just love, LOVE, there are several that I enjoy watching. There's Shauvon, the blonde journalist (who can't spell, as Kaitie pointed out in one of her columns they showed on TV she interchanged "your" for "you're" - and unforgivable sin in my book) with magnificent breasts of circus-like proportions; Isaac, the rough-around-the-edges, bad boy turned good guy, skin-head K-Fed lookalike (who is actually really really funny); and my personal fave, Parisa, the gorgeous, smart Persian Muslim who is a little bit curvier than the other girls and hands out her opinions much like the door greeter gives out smiley stickers at walmart ("here you go, here's one for you...").

All that being said, I have found one of the roommates to be an absolute train wreck 20-year-old Texan party girl KellyAnne is so fucking annoying, yet I love to hear the shit that spews from her mouth. She's an idiot, and I can't help but be reminded of a lot of girls I know when I hear her talk. She always supplies the most interesting remarks in every show. My personal favorite from tonight was, "He doesn't know that in high school, my nickname was 'Cock Tease.' More importantly, he doesn't know the real truth - that I am one." She says it with such conviction and sincerity that I simply must believe her.

This is MTV's mini-bio on her:
Twenty-year-old Texan KellyAnne doesn't just show up to the party; she loves to be the center of it, too. She's a self-described tease who craves the attention of men. She's hot and she knows it, which she uses to her advantage. KellyAnne's parents divorced as soon as she graduated high school, and their difficult spilt led to her trouble trusting men. Despite all of the drama that might have come her way, KellyAnne just wants to have fun.

Don't we all, KellyAnne. Don't we all.

KellyAnne's partner in crime is Trisha, a loudmouthed twit from Fresno, California. The two girls decided to room together after first meeting each other and deeming one another "Omigod! Totally cool!" Trisha, along with KellyAnne, has been put in her place by Parisa at least once this season. She once made this intelligent argument: "That's fine, whatever. You want to be a child, and act like you're two, I'll act like I'm one! You need to like, hold on to your friends because you have like, what? Five?" This last statement cause KellyAnne to be truly speechless as she watched the spat like a tennis match.

Another one of my favorite Trisha moments had to be when fuming over Parisa's audacity to challenge her, she asked Isaac, "Do you absolutely hate me? Do you like me?", to which he responded, "I really don't know yet."

Here's what MTV.com had to say about the fun-loving party gal:
Trisha is a sharp-tongued party girl from California who enjoys drinking, flirting, and flaunting herself with the popular crowd. Raised as a devout Christian by her adoptive parents, 19 year-old Trisha greatly values her faith. She recently committed to a serious relationship with her boyfriend, shedding her self-proclaimed "virgin party girl" image. Trisha is talkative and opinionated and will do whatever it takes to make her voice heard.

I'm just wondering...she shed her "virgin party girl image"? Which part did she shed, the partying or the virgin...ing? Is she a whore that loves to stay home and bake cookies and knit sweaters?

There are so many more moments that stand out in my mind, and I know that there is so much left to come, as this Real World is still very young, with a mere four episodes under its belt. But I do know one thing.

I'll be right here on my futon, waiting.

marching to the beat of a different crayola

There are so many things that stick out to me about my school years, especially kindergarten.

I was in Mrs. Barton's class, along with about half of my graduating class. Little did I know, many of the same kids with whom I used to spend hours gluing pencil boxes together and trading crayons would be the same kids I would stand beside as I tossed my graduation cap high into the air outside of Wallace Hall a mere 13 years later.

But I digress.

I remember crawling up into Mrs. Barton's big orange chair, which always seemed to be so much bigger to the 5-year-old me, and reading to all the other kids from my latest library book. Among those selections were such literary classics as One Fish, Two Fish and Stone Soup.

I also remember being Mrs. Barton's special assistant and getting to go on errands and such during naptime while the rest of my juvenile classmates sleep on their plastic fold-out mats, pretending to nap.

I felt invincible.

One of my favorite times, however, was when we were given papers on which I was able to use my favorite things of all – crayons.

I loved to color. One of my most treasured gifts as a kid was this special Crayola turnstile that you could put your crayons on and gently spin when you needed to view the full array of your crayons, all right there at arm's length. It even had a sharpener built in. Perfection.

I remember slapping a kid (I still remember his name, Frankie) in the face because he spun my turnstile around so hard that all the crayons went flying.

He deserved it. And it would have been much worse had the teacher not stopped me. God help Frankie if I ever run into him in a dark alley…

And again, I digress.

One day, the teacher passed out a coloring sheet to all us eager kindergarteners. I was ecstatic. For this was no ordinary coloring sheet…oh no. It had special rules and directions. Kind of like a puzzle.

My specialty.

There were caterpillars on it, I believe. Or maybe ladybugs. Whatever. They were bugs that crawl. The amount of legs makes no difference.

There were rules such as, "Look at these two bugs. (I did.) Color the bug on the left orange, then color the bug on the right blue. (Piece of cake.)"

Moving on.

"There are 10 bugs here. (Duh, I could count.) Pick two colors. (I chose red and green – Christmas colors!). Color seven bugs one color, and color three bugs another color. (Child's play, I said to myself.)"

I set to work. I started first with my green crayon. One green bug…two green bugs…and so on until I had colored seven green bugs…or so I thought.

Being ever methodical and OCD, even as a child, I put my green crayon away, right then. I didn't want to risk losing it, or breaking it, or even worse – having someone steal it. (The worst thing I could do was to let my precious green fall into the grimy, grubby hands of Frankie.)

I set out to coloring my red bugs with my freshly sharpened red crayon. One…two…three…four…wait a minute.

Four?

There were only supposed to be three red bugs.

Apparently I had begun on the seventh green bug, but something distracted me (as usually it did), and I had forgotten to completely color the last of the green bug.
But I had already packed my green crayon away…I didn't want to have to get it back out again.

I looked from the page, to the crayon in my hand, back to the page again.

Eh.

I decided that I would just do what I thought was the most logical thing.

Rather than go through all the trouble of getting out of box and unpacking my green crayon again, I would simply fill in the white spots with my red crayon. It would look nice and complete, and no one would be the wiser. Besides. My teacher would see that I had started coloring it green and merely topped it off with a touch of red. She might even be impressed. And I had stayed inside the lines the whole time. After all, I was the colorer who had won coloring contests at the local K-Mart. I knew what I was doing.

Anyway – I was one of her favorites. Right?

So I did it.

Imagine my shock when the teacher passed our papers back out and I had less than satisfactory marks on my paper.

It took me years before I realized what I had done wrong.

I guess the moral of the story is, don't take shortcuts. Because in the end, you'll only be left with a red-and-green bug and a sad face.

At least, that's what I got.

intense sexual urges

I knew that might get some of your attention...

Okay, so. A new blog is currently in the works. My internship has kept me busy, but I do have an update that is well overdue. Right now, however, I give you with this.

I'm not sure if any of you are familiar with the drug Mirapex. It's used to treat "restless leg syndrome" or "RLS." I remember hearing about RLS in my psychology 101 class, and I'm sure it is a very real thing.

However, when one decides to medicate for something such as this, you have to be wary of many things.

Among those are the side effects a drug may have on a person. And there are no more interesting side effects than those for the drug Mirapex. I recently saw an ad on TV for Mirapex, and I had to take a minute out of my day to sit down and ask myself, "which is worse?"

(The following is taken directly from the website, www.mirapex.com.)

Interesting fact about Mirapex 1:

"Before you take MIRAPEX, be sure to tell your doctor if you have any problems with low blood pressure, dizziness, or becoming light-headed."

Um, yes, I happen to have a problem with becoming light-headed and dizzy. I happen to not like that a lot, unless it is intentionally self-induced. Then again, it does go on to say that you should also tell your doctor if you use alcohol or cigarettes. That's a pretty big portion of the population. However, any time I have used either of the two, light-headedness and dizziness was a desired effect. Taking Mirapex would problem eliminate my need for alcohol or cigarettes, along with getting rid of my RLS. Kill two proverbial birds with one stone, if you will.

Interesting fact about Mirapex 2:

"MIRAPEX may cause you to fall asleep without any warning, even while doing normal daily activities such as driving."

Wait a minute…what? That doesn't seem like side effect to me, it seems like a freakin safety hazard. I imagine that would probably have a severe effect on my daily life, the whole "falling-asleep-while-driving" thing. I just really feel like that would be a deal-breaker for me. I find driving while I'm asleep to be just a tad difficult.

Interesting fact about Mirapex 3:

"There are reports of some people having hallucinations (seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling, or tasting something that does not actually exist) while taking MIRAPEX."

Tingling sensation in the legs, hallucinations…tingling sensation in the legs, tasting things that aren't really there…wow, that's a tough decision. So, if I go on Mirapex, will I also have to go on drugs for my hallucinations? And also…freedom from pain, plus seeing things that aren't really there? This sounds like another "drug" I know of…
And now, the best for last…

Interesting fact about Mirapex 4:

"There have been reports of patients taking…MIRAPEX, that have reported problems with increased sex drive, gambling, and compulsive eating…If you or your family members notice that you are developing unusual behaviors, talk to your doctor."

Whoa, whoa. Whoa. You had me until you got to "compulsive eating." And since when did increased sex drive and gambling become "unusual behaviors"?
I guess you're in trouble in you are on your way to a booty call, a dog track, or a grocery store during the day time, though…you may very well fall asleep in the car.


And now…I present you with the informative Mirapex commercial. It leaves me feeling a little less than Mirapex-tacular. I think I'll just deal with the RLS.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKl8AjyHbeY

a little rain must fall

Last year, I thought I understood loss.

I lost one friend in a terrible car accident that left his fiance badly injured and broken-hearted.

Shortly before that, my best friend from high school lost her husband in a severe and tragic way. She was six months pregnant at the time.

I thought that was the hardest thing I would ever have to do.

Until this past week.

Baby Noah was born on December 14, 2006. A beautiful little boy, he looked just like his daddy - blonde-haired and blue-eyed. he was the apple of his mother's eye, a truly animated and charismatic baby.

These past few days, he had been feeling a little sick, but no one thought it could be anything too serious. However, on Monday morning, his grandmother took him to the pediatricians. The doctors there had him airlifted immediately to Children's Hospital in Birmingham.

It was later found out that he had a tumor on his liver and extensive internal bleeding. Surgeons did the best they could to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing they could do. Noah died on Tuesday afternoon in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit of Children's Hospital.

He was just 7 months old.

I thought the hardest thing I would ever have to do would be to help my best friend say good-bye to her husband.

Now, tomorrow afternoon, I will be there as she lays her only baby boy to rest.

The only comfort is in knowing that he will finally be able to rest in his daddy's arms.

This is so hard for me to understand. Why does life work in such a terrible, terrible way? Why would life deal her such a cruel twist of fate?

There are not words to express the way she must be feeling. There is nothing I can offer to her. I have nothing inside left to feel.

Go home and tell your mother and father that you love them so very much...squeeze your husband or wife on the arm, appreciate that they are there.

And if you have children...hug them and hold them and love on them like you will never let them go.

You never know when the opportunity to do just that could be torn right out of your grasp.