Monday, July 30, 2007

The Truth Hurts

Near the end of an engaging conversation with a buddy at church, he said, "Charlotte, I don't care what people say about you ~ you're a good woman."

* Blink*

Um...thanks. What do people say about me?
He just smiled and walked away.

According to Em, I'm a schmoozer. And I don't care what people think, I'm going to take that as a compliment.
Here's what I get to do now. Instead of the saying, "You snooze, you lose," I get to "choose the schmooze." This seems a fitting time to make a confession. I'm an addict. I have a rare condition - so rare in fact that doctors haven't been able to completely diagnose it. I've been told I have a combination of boredom and extra time. While I'm still waiting for the current lab results, I know that surfing the internet for blogs is one of the best cures. Here are two of the tastiest antidotes I've found.

La Cinquieme Montagne ~ A blogger I've never met but found through a friend of a friend...of a friend. We go way back. At least 2 months now. He blogs of common events with a satirist wit. I always leave his site not as bored with a little less extra time.

Clarissa Cooper Photography ~ As if the pictures aren't enough, her writing is captivating. Each time I visit her site I feel inspired to hike Mount Everest, start a band, chisel a statue or paint the next Monet. Then I realize I don't have any paint.

So go forth and blog! and schmooze! and paint if you have the supplies! And I don't care what everyone else says about you ~ you are a good person too.

Friday, July 27, 2007


I was on the couch with my dad the first time I watched the movie BIG. I loved it immediately. I really connected with the plot: the concept of a child in an adult body, an electronic piano to jump on, an apartment full of toys, and most of all - a wish to come true. This wasn't an ordinary whisper as a coin fell into water or a fleeting thought as the last candle flame turned to smoke but an earnest desire voiced to a dreadful and creepy mannequin at a fair.

I recently was souvenir shopping in a neighboring state. The trinkets and odd novelties all had a thin but noticeable layer of filth. I wondered if the store would survive much longer since our small group seemed to be the first in months to disrupt the settling dust. The isles were narrow walkways that seemed to force the shopper in one direction. Turning around risked the possibility of breaking too many items.

It was at the end of one such row that I saw him. That's right. HIM. He looked just like the wish granter from BIG. He called to me. I actually had to borrow two quarters. I wanted to look to make sure he was unplugged but the cable ran too far for me to tell. The grit that hung in the air now had a sparkle and seemed to dance like fairy dust. I plunked in the change and watched his eyes start to glow. His mechanical arms waved as though directing an unseen orchestra. The crystal ball blinked various colors. He became still again and the card that held the writings of my future fell into a slot.

I see you exploring a castle soon, perhaps in England or Germany. You may meet a doctor or dentist, but not for medical reasons. Events in your life come in 3's. A new neighbor offers you friendship. Unexpected free time is in your future. You find love in a Mexican restaurant. Lucky numbers: 1, 4, 11, 21, 33, 49.

I have decided once my passport returns but with my name correctly spelled, I need to travel. England sounds fun for no particular reason. Also, does anyone know a doctor that's, say, oh, 33 years old that enjoys Mexican food?

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Voted: Most Gossiped About

I received an email advising me to not follow through on an invitation from a guy entering my life. The email was from a close friend but I wondered if I had been sent the email accidentally for two main reasons:

1. There was no proposition of any sort made and

2. There is no guy in my life.

Sorting the situation out later on the phone, I found out that someone said that someone else said he said that she said I was headed for trouble with some guy.

Of course I was honored.

I'm usually the one starting the rumors and never the culprit of. This throws an entire new twist into life. Now I have more to live for. I am that somebody everyone's talking about.

Can I get a trophy or something. A ribbon at least?

Monday, July 23, 2007

Beach 101

If you ever decide to go to the beaches in South Georgia remember these tips:
  1. You can never pack too much food...or towels.
  2. There is an Interstate 16 and a Highway 16. Take the interstate unless you want a really long scenic detour.
  3. When laying out, occasionally take your sunglasses off. Looking like a raccoon is not in style.
  4. Bring lots and lots and lots of quarters for the parking meters. A nickel will only get you 3 minutes.
  5. The Atlantic Ocean tastes very, very salty.
  6. The beach house "shower(s)" consist of a single pipe hanging down from a concrete wall that sprays water colder than the Pacific Ocean...
  7. pipe for all the beach bums equals a long line.
  8. Don't stand down wind of any person shaking the sand off their towels.
  9. Sunscreen should not be under estimated.
  10. If your siblings get bored, it is not a good idea to lie down on the sand even for a minute.
Shelly Belly ~ who will later find sand in places she didn't know sand could hide.

The culprits: Faisal, Johnny, ...

...and one used-to-be-really-white-but-now-sunburned Charika.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Not Everything is Bigger in Texas

Johnny Cherie and I went on a walk last night. The area had received it's daily 5 minute downpour and was settling into the nightly cool temperature of 80.

The sky was filled with beautiful clouds that float after a storm.

The trees stood majestically against the sky. Despite the daily storms, we are still in a drought so you can see a few brown spots where leaves have withered. Unlike a banana, brown spots on trees don't indicate ripeness.

And then this. A huge splat of white on the corner of the street.

Wow. That must have been so-ome bird!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Chivalry Is Not Dead

It rained here yesterday. Rain in Georgia is different from any other rain I've encountered. Unlike other states where rain follows a darkened sky, some low rumblings of thunder and an occasional flash of lightning, the rain here comes like a thief in an alleyway - out of nowhere. After two years of Georgia residency, I'm still caught off guard when the sunny day transforms into a monsoon in 4.2 seconds flat.

And yesterday was no different. The day was hot and sunny and beautiful. 4:58 rolled around when - BOOM - the rain started. Lots of rain. The type that comes down at a sideways slant.

I got prepared to run to my car. This meant covering the UPS package with my purse, putting on a jacket (although it was 90º out), and wishing I'd thought to bring my umbrella in after lunch (though the clear sky gave me no indication to worry). As I got ready to leave, my boss Jim stopped me at the door. He instructed me to wait while he ran to his car and retrieved his umbrella. He then came back, walked me to my car, and saw me off.

No my dear bloggers, chivalry is not dead. He happens to be my boss.

Monday, July 16, 2007


I helped make history. The last site I checked, Harry Potter had earned over 77.5 million in it's opening weekend. I helped: $6 worth - and that was the afternoon show. Where did the $1 matinée from my childhood disappear? I'm guessing it ran away with the $ .75 gallon of gas I also remember.

Maybe a little Hogwarts' magic can bring yesterday's prices back.



Inflacion Revercio!

Friday, July 13, 2007

Spelling Be

Sew eye sent amass e-male out yesterday butt forgot two yews the spell check. Aye found out eye did knot spell vacuum the write weigh. Allot of friends emailed me too point out my heir or. Thanks! That's watt grate friends are fore.

Sew remember, inn case yew knead help, yews spell check the next thyme.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Bathroom Humor

You are in for a treat today. I'm going to - free of charge - let you in on a secret. A concept that has puzzled men for years. It's a question you all have asked yourself at least once before.

Why is it that women have to go to the bathroom in groups? And what takes them soooo long?

I hope you realize the sacrifice I'm making to divulge this information. I could potentially lose all (3) of my loyal female bloggers. At the risk of being asked to leave Blogger World, I'll quickly explain the phenomenon known as "freshing up".

Let's say you are a counselor for a week at a youth camp full of teenagers. This is all hypothetical of course. Let's continue the example by stating the evening activity is a dance. Since this assumed camp is located at some vacant-for-the-summer college campus, this imagined dance would probably be located in a gym of sorts. To spice the story up a bit, let's pretend that although the air conditioning works, it isn't sufficient to keep the gymnasium completely cool. Add some Georgia humidity and our story gets exciting.

In our scenario, you have to go to the bathroom. You find the ladies room quickly and discover about - just imagine with me - 15 girls huddled around the mirror and all 8 stalls empty. Let's pretend the girls really don't see you walk in and continue their intense conversation. Since the loud music is muffled through the walls, you can hear all their comments.

Before I tell you what these girls might have said if this were a real situation, I need to state that all comments would be said with sincerity. A bathroom is no place for joking. Complete analysis of the situation, say a dance, must be discussed thoroughly before anyone may leave. The bathroom is where you take care of business...literally.

So if you were in a bathroom with some girls who were momentarily absent from a supposed dance in a gym, you might hear the following.

* I just came to the bathroom to see how ugly my hair is.
* He's cute but does he have nice arms?
* Oh! my bangs are so poofy!
...and my personal favorite...
* It is hotter than a camel's butt in the middle of the summer on that dance floor.

And that's when you realize a mammal-certified proctologist is in your midst. Hypothetically speaking of course.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Pary Moppins

I'm sure most of you know of the lovable Mary Poppins and the magic that surrounds her. In the movie, she carries a carpet bag and proceeds to unpack everything she needs, including a tall lamp, from within.

I met the antithesis of Mary Poppins this past week. I'll call her Pary.

Actually...there are some similarities. Pary and Mary are both brunettes, slender, and tall. And both carry a large bag. That's where any resemblance ends. While Mary's bag is magic and can produce all sorts of wonderful items, Pary's 50 pound purse is just for show. I never saw a single item removed.

I do know a little about the contents of the bag though - well, at least what it didn't carry. I would know since I was the one all the girls, including Pary, came to if they needed something. Anything. Everything.

Pary's bag didn't contain:
  • a single writing utensil. I went through 20 pens last week. 20 pens. 11 girls total. 1 big purse. Not even trigonometry will solve that equation.
  • the schedule of camp activities. After every event I had to answer the same question. "Charlotte, what are we doing now?" Well, what does your schedule say? "Lunch" Then I suppose we will be eating.
  • a water bottle - although I had three at any given time in my backpack belonging to various girls.
  • gum - the most sought after item all week.
  • an umbrella just in case. ...that would have been in my backpack as well.
  • "girl stuff" for "that time".
  • paper to write notes from class. Of course, if you don't have a pen, what's the point in having paper...
But girls are girls and a Pary needed her purse. I'd have hated for her to go anywhere without it. I mean...she might have needed something.

Monday, July 2, 2007


So I'm gone for a week.

Before you get excited and wish me a happy holiday, let me tell you what I'm doing. I'll be vacationing as a counselor at a youth camp. One week of no sleep, cafeteria food, and chaperoning hormone-charged teens isn't a typical vacation. The youth will all be at least a decade younger than me. This is fine unless someone brings pop culture into the conversation. I'm sure I'll come back with, like, a totally new vocabulary and I'll know, like, way awesome cool stuff about the world. I'm gonna learn things like:

* Justin Timberlake is not single anymore? What!? and I was hoping for a chance.
* Mary Kate and Ashley are sooooo hot right now. Like Totally!
* Mandy Moore is on tour? Oh wow...that's awesome.

And I'm sure I'll be able to relate to the girls in so many ways.

* Oh my gosh - I hate pimples too. I had, like, a huge one but then it, like, totally, like disappeared. It must be like the magic from Harry Potter. Totally like that.
* You wear size 4? No way! Me TOO! Oh pants? I was talking ring sizes for my pinky finger...never mind.
* I know! - work is so lame. Yeah, I hate those part-time jobs at the local pool too!

In all honesty though, I'm looking forward to it. I wouldn't have applied otherwise. Since I'll be, like, totally not by the computer, you will, like, have to go to some of my, like, favorite archives.

Such as my very first post ever, and why I shouldn't shop alone, as well as my new year's resolution, or the COWs in my life.

So Party on Wayne...oh wait, that's what was said when I was in high school. What do kids say now-a-days? Is "chill out" acceptable?


I'll let you know in a week.