What It Means...

The other night, I had a dream that my teeth fell out.

Yes. You heard that right. MY. TEETH. FELL. OUT.

One thing you should probably know about me is that I have extremely vivid dreams. Like, the kind where I'll get halfway through my day and truly have to stop and think about whether something actually happened or not. Even though they're very vivid and I almost always remember them, they're not usually BIZARRE. And this one, my friends, was BIZARRE.

So, I did a quick search on www.dreammoods.com, because, obviously, I need a full-time job. Between my research there and some careful reflection, I've decided that this dream must mean one of the following 5 things:

1.  I have anxiety about my appearance and how people perceive me.

Apparently, your teeth are like a mating symbol. Or something. Smiling. Kissing. Necking (did that site really just use the word “necking”? Whatever. I totally don't trust them anymore)

2.  I have an over-exaggerated fear of powerlessness.

Totally possible. I am a control freak. However, the rationale behind this is that teeth are used for gnawing, and I'm not sure I exactly follow their theory. So, maybe not this one.

3.  I'm going through menopause.

Menopausal women frequently dream about their teeth falling out. Who knew? Considering that I'm hot all the time, this is--so far--the most plausible of the options (which, considering that I'm 28, is kind of a sad state of affairs for www.dreammoods.com).

4.  I was exceptionally touched by the James storyline in That Championship Season.

The show's playing tonight at 8:00, tomorrow at 2:00 and next Thursday, Friday and Saturday at Birmingham Festival Theatre.  If you go see it, you'll get to see a couple of my favorite boys pretending like they could possibly have been basketball players, which is kind of funny in and of itself.  It's a really good show, and you should probably go see it, even though I'm almost positive that the teeth falling out was not a primary plot point. But what do I know? Oh yeah, I know musicals. That's what I know.

(Do you like how I totally just worked in a show plug during my blog about teeth falling out? I'm pretty much the best marketer I know...as well as the strangest person.)

5.  I am paying for laughing at a comment made to me in 2003ish.

One night at BSC, my dear and quite hilarious friend Katy looked at me and said “You sound like a black man with no teeth”. I would like to be able to tell you the backstory of why this was said, but I truly don't know.

All I know is that if this dream comes true, I'm 1/3 of the way there.

Every year when I get a new batch of kids...

...I spend some time reflecting on what must go through a parent's mind when naming their child.

I see a lot of kids each week.  I'm really grateful that the family name trend seems to be coming back, cause we've been needing a break from the crazy.  However, there are still a few (see also: A TON) of stragglers who insist on giving their children bizarre, bizarre names with even loopier spellings.

I feel like any parent who thinks they've come up with the "cutest" name for their unborn kid needs to ask themselves the following simple question:

Which one of the following scenarios sounds more likely with this name inserted?


"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the podium our new CEO <insert name here>, who will be working hard to protect the fiscal future of our company!"

or

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, to Pole #7, the hot and sexy <insert name here>, who will be working hard for those dollars!"



An honest answer to that simple question could save so many children from awful, awful names.

Today, I uttered the words...

..."I'm having some birth control drama at Walmart".

I sort of feel like that's only a breath away from "I'm having some baby daddy drama at the Dairy Queen".

It's a slippery slope, my friends. A slippery slope.





P.S.--YES I recognize that this is my second post in a row referring to Walmart.

DON'T JUDGE.

How valuable must something be...

...for you to go after it if it drops in the toilet...AT WALMART.

Today at Walmart, I overheard a girl talking about how her bellybutton ring fell out and landed in the toilet.  It was kind of a weird story, and I was about to stop eavesdropping when the story took a turn for the horrible. Girl with the bellybutton ring admitted loudly and proudly that she went in after it.  Let me repeat that: she went in after it. SHE STUCK HER HAND IN A WALMART TOILET.  She justified her abhorrent actions by saying that she hadn't used it yet, and "body jewelry is, like, super expensive".

So, I started reflecting on the more meaningful questions in life, such how "How valuable must something be for you to go after it if it drops in the Walmart toilet?".

Feel free to discuss amongst yourselves.  There are no wrong answers.  I will probably, however, never touch you again if your answer is valued at less than $200.

Me personally?  If I dropped my UTERUS in a Walmart toilet, I'm not going after it.  But that's just me.

I sure ain't Martha Stewart...

...but I'm baking two cakes this weekend.  The cooking/baking gene runs rampant in my family.  Like, several people run businesses that involve baking.

I, unfortunately, did not get the gene that makes you good at cooking-type activities.  I also did not get the gene that makes you enjoy cooking-type activities.  I really don't like to cook, which, let's be honest, probably stems from the fact that as a general rule I don't like to do things I'm not good at.

This will be my first solo attempt at a Coca-Cola cake, as well as my first-ever attempt at a completely new cake (can't ruin the surprise by telling you what it is).

The bright side to my solo attempt is that at least I won't have my grandmother yelling about how I'll "never get a husband if you don't like to cook" and how she "can't possibly help you if you insist on using your left hand".

I'll document with pictures.  Wish me luck.