I'm awkward around kids, that's no secret. But I do attempt to make friends with them (if I'm around them for more than a few minutes) by striking up a conversation. I ask about their favorite color, the cartoons they like, their favorite thing to do at school. And generally, I get nothing out of them. So last time I was around our niece, Rebecca, I tried something new. I rambled like nobody's business.

It went something like this: "So what cartoons do you like?" Silence. "When I was your age, I liked Bugs Bunny. You know, I heard a lot of classical music on Looney Tunes, like that song, The Blue Danube. Sooo...What's your favorite color?" Silence. "Mine's light blue. I used to love silver, but it's blue now. Not navy, because that's too dark and I'm pale, and when I wear dark colors I look like a ghost." More silence. "I think I'll draw something now. How about a flower?" Silence. "You look like you like flowers. I'll draw a red one. And here's a lady bug..."
Finally, she piped up, "Daddy hates bugs." "Well, daddy won't like my picture then. Look, it has antennae."

I try to talk to kids like they're adults, because when I was little I hated when adults talked to me in a different pitch and overexaggerated their facial expressions. So what about you? How do you fool kids into thinking you're a fun person?

So I was thinking about Seth's recent post and feminism, and how feminism has basically removed women from one oppressive situation and planted them in another - ie, going from being the 50's housewife who cooks, cleans, and slaves for Massa Husband to being subject to feminist's expectations: successful careers, degrees, complete independence, etc.

And I commented that I'd noticed that many feminists don't look down on housewives as long as they could do something else if they wanted to. But now that I think about it, maybe that standard is actually an attempt to protect women. With divorce rates being drastically different than what they once were, it's a good idea to have a college degree and the ability to reenter the workforce successfully in the event that the husband runs away with the maid. That way the poor abandoned wifey won't end up juggling three jobs in order to take care of her children who are used to moderate luxury by this point.

Not that I expect this to ever happen to me. I'm actually not cynical in the area of marriage, at least when it comes to mine. I know Brandon loves me, and divorce isn't an option.

Besides, we don't have a maid. ;)

I'm doing a presentation on Edgar Allan Poe in my Lit class on Wednesday. From what I've read by him so far, I've noticed a trend. Everyone in his stories is either dying or about to die (or be murdered - same outcome, though). And it's not uncommon for them to come back to life, especially if the blush of life comes over their corpse at any point. Also, he likes the word "terror." And the opium.

Edgar Allan Poe: dark, in an "I'm on drugs" sort of way.

I know, it's been a while. My cold is finally gone - can I get a hallelujah?
I'll take that as a yes. Spring Break came and went without much notice. When you work full time, having time off of school isn't all that big of a deal. It's just kind of nice to have a little free time.

Otherwise, things are about the same as usual. I've been working out and going to the cancer coffin so that I don't look completely awful in my sister's wedding in May. I'm the matron of honor. Matron. Sounds so... old. Like maybe I should wear a knit shawl and hobble down the aisle with a cane, while the poor groomsman that escorts me has to carefully hold my elbow in case I take a fall and end up breaking a hip.

A friend sent me his old cell phone, which is way better than my cell phone, so that's a welcome upgrade. Now I have more ring tones and a camera. So I can be one of those annoying people who suddenly takes your picture with their phone without warning, and then has that awful picture pop up every time you call. And perhaps I'll download some uber-annoying ringtones. Actually, I wouldn't mind getting "Dixie" played on banjoes, but I know that I forget to turn off my cell all the time in class, and that might be slightly embarrassing to have to explain to my classmates that I'm from Alabama every time my phone goes off.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Could there be a better holiday? I mean, you get to pinch people. That's my kind of holiday.

My mom told me that when I was little, I would pinch babysitters and nursery workers while she wasn't looking. And not just pinch in a cute way, but in a "when I grow up, I want to be a crab" sort of way.

I was watching this info-mercial about losing weight, and the woman trying to sell her book said that sometimes you may think you're hungry, but you're actually thirsty. She said you can tell if you're hydrated if you pinch your elbow and the skin bounces back quickly. If it doesn't, you're probably dehydrated. So now I have an excuse for pinching Brandon's elbow. It's for his own good.

I thought I was almost over my cold. And then this weekend we had some unusually cold weather (it hailed twice)and my cold was like "you know, I have a great host. I think I'll stay, and perhaps double my efforts to render my host useless." And I was like "Doh, you better nod" which is cold language for "No, you better not" but the cold just laughed and sunk it's claws deeper into my sinuses. I'm combatting it with oranges, lots of liquids, and the white man's cure for the plague: 7-up and chicken noodle soup. Perhaps I will win the struggle. Only time will tell.

So they've been airing commercials for candidates for governor of California lately. What gets me is that many of them say "Vote for Whatshisname. A different kind of governor."

Okay, is it really possible to get much more of a different kind of governor than Arnold? I mean, come on. He's the governator.

I'm at the end stages of a wicked cold right now. You know, where you feel the need to take shallow breaths at the risk of coughing, you sound like you've been smoking for about ten years (not too long to sound like you're nearing emphysema but long enough to sound raspy in a trendy sort of way) and your head is finally clear enough to process thoughts that are more complicated than "how is it possible for me to snot this much?" and "was that my lung I just hacked up?"

Why must zinc lozenges and cold-eze taste so horrible? Not only does cold-eze taste like someone added citrus flavor to Coke, but it dries out your mouth and makes your teeth feel like they've been sanded down. However, I do think it works. Thera-flu severe cold is great as well, but I have to chug it as fast as possible because of its degree of yuckiness.

But I am thankful for modern medicine. I'd much rather choke down gross stuff and feel better than be bled by leeches or accused of being possessed or just plain die from a cold. Yay for cold medicine, even if I get carded when I buy it.

How to Lose Your Southern Accent

When I tell people that I was raised in Alabama, the first comment I generally get is "What happened to your accent?" I explain that I got rid of it, because I'd grown tired of jokes about outhouses and inbreeding.

I remember when my sister came to visit, she was in a shop on Hollywood and Highland and she was trying not to speak so that her accent wouldn't give her away as being a Southerner. The clerk said, "You sure are quiet." And she replied "I'm just tired." With a smile, he immediately asked, "Where are you from?"

You see, changing your accent begins with vowel sounds. My sister's pronunciation of the word "tired" sounded more like "tarred." The vowel sound should have been closer to "eye" that "ah". Another word that gives southerners away immediately (if they say it rather than HAY) is "hi." The trick is to add a slight y at the end. Another word I had to start pronouncing differently is "boil." It sounded more like bowl than boil. The trick is to sound slightly yankey and say "boyell" really quickly. Oh and cement. It's not pronounced "see-ment". You get laughed at if you say it that way. "You" is not pronounced "yew" so much as "yoo." You get the picture.

It also helps to watch a lot of tv. That way you can begin to mimic accents you hear. This does not apply to movies such as Forrest Gump or Walk the Line.

So if wanna lose that accent, watch your vowels and watch a lot of tv. I'd also like to add that I am not encouraging you to lose your southern accent. It's part of your roots, so embrace it, rather than selling out like me. I was actually annoyed when my sister felt like she had to stay quiet or get mocked. Southerners aren't stupid. Many are kind, loving people who will be nice to you for no reason. And come now, can you really say a New York accent sounds any more educated? I didn't think so.

Why I Don't Surf

Christie recommended writing about surfing in the comments below. Although I live in California, I've never surfed and don't really think I ever will. Here are the reasons:

1. I'm the clumsiest person ever. You tie a surf board to my foot and put me in the ocean, you probably won't see me again.

2. The Pacific Ocean is COLD. Seriously, it's cold. Really cold. It shocked me too, how cold it is. I'm used to the Gulf of Mexico (or the Golf of Mexico, as Brandon refers to it), and it's totally warm. Not so with the Pacific. The first time I felt the Pacific, I was with Brandon in Laguna Beach, and we were about to go to Seth's house. He was standing behind me as a wave approached, and as I turned to get away from the water, he held me there. The freezing water splashed me up to my knees. And I beat him for it. Well.

3. Sharks. I like my limbs.

4. I could never bring myself to say "surf's up, dewds".