Reader Request: Manatees

I happened to be hanging out with one of our readers tonight, Micaela, and I asked her for a blog topic right before she left. She thought for a minute, then declared, "Manatees. But you can't write anything negative about them because they're my favorite."


Oh, Micaela. How could anyone say anything negative about manatees?


A manatee named Barbara is a featured player in my second favorite Veggie Tales song of all time, "Endangered Love." (My number one favorite Veggie Tales song of all time is obviously "The Water Buffalo Song.") Without manatees, my second favorite Veggie Tales song of all time would be "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything," and pirates are so five years ago. Thanks, manatees. You make me a cooler person.

Barbara Manatee, you are the one for me.

Manatees glimpsed in the sea brought on the folklore of mermaids. Therefore, without them, we would not be able to belt "Part of Your World" when bursting out of the water at the pool, Tinkerbell would be the only one jealous of Wendy, there would have to be sharks or another sea monster in the Black Lake at Hogwarts, Darryl Hannah would just be that skanky actress from Wall Street, and the City of Norfolk would have to completely rework their decor. Again, thanks, manatees.

Manatees are sometimes called sea cows. I like the sea. I like cows. So that's neat.


I once saw a manatee from afar in the Gulf of Mexico. That was also neat. 


In conclusion, here's a picture of a couple of actual manatees:

I googled "cute manatee" to find this.

Does anyone else love manatees as much as Micaela and, apparently, me?

Reader Request: The best things about being married to an actor

Today's request comes from Amy Dunlap, who I look up to like crazy. She's an amazing mom, student, actress, theater department worker (I don't know her title, but she does stuff), and general person. I hope to be much like her when I grow up, in that she's super fun and I suspect hasn't fully grown up. Anyway, on to the post!


I am married to an actor, and I love it. I mean, obviously I love him and I would love him no matter what profession he chose (well, I guess there are a couple exceptions to that too, no offense to you assassins out there), but I think his choice of acting is especially fun. Reasons:


1. I get to go to shows for free fairly often. I have always loved theater, so this worked out well. 
2. Helping him run lines makes me a better person. I have a nasty habit of correcting people. This is something I dislike about myself, and something I try not to do. I love that I get to run lines with Jeff because it's one time that correcting him is totally acceptable and even appreciated. It kind of helps me get some of that need to correct out of my system.
3. It gives us plenty to talk about. It used to drive me crazy when we'd see a show and Jeff and his friends would rip the production to pieces, criticizing or praising every little bit. But now I've learned how to play that game too, and it's fun to bounce our opinions off of each other. And since Jeff's an actor, he usually has extra insight to provide.
4. He has to be well groomed. For the most part, I get a well groomed husband because his job calls for it. Although sometimes this point backfires, and we end up with this: 

(Thanks to David Polston for the photo.)

or this:

but most of the time, I get something like this:

Yesssss. So much hot.

5. I get complimented often. Just yesterday, someone was telling me that Jeff's performance of Tartuffe was so incredible and he's amazing and what a great actor, etc. And she was saying it to me like I had something to do with it. So obviously, I said thank you. I mean, I married the guy, so I guess I can take some credit. Right? Riiiight.
6. Life is an adventure. Sometimes it freaks me out that we don't really know what's coming up next for Jeff. In fact, I'd say that most of the time it freaks me out a bit. But there are moments, wonderful moments, when I get excited. Jeff is talented, and I believe he could play any role and play it well. It's exciting to imagine what could lay ahead for him. 
7. I have a husband who follows his passion. Above all, I love being married to a guy who is willing to step out in faith and do what he has always been called to do. He knows that acting isn't the most secure job in the world, so he's hoping to teach as well (which is something he also happens to love). But he wants to continue to act no matter what else he's doing because that's the gift that God gave him. 


In conclusion, I wholly recommend marrying an actor. It's neat.

Reader Request: Pet Peeves

This request comes from Martina, a friend of mine since middle school (Go Falcons?) who I've been able to reconnect with through the glory of facebook. She is hilarious and kind, and she has the coolest star tattoos of ever that made me briefly consider getting inked myself. Okay, on to pet peeves:

I feel like I discover a new pet peeve every week, and I admit that they're usually pretty dumb things. 

For example, I make a lot of calls at work, and I get super frustrated when people answer their phones and sound irritated because they are in a meeting or a class. I'm fairly certain they don't own special phones that lack the ignore button. I'm also fairly certain they could have put their phone on silent or even turned it off. But instead they chose to answer it and rudely tell me they can't talk. It just seems illogical to me.

Of course, the misspelling of the word your/you're is a classic pet peeve of mine. Also, definitely. Also, weird. Also, Fazakerley.

I get annoyed when people use social media as an outlet to complain, complain, complain. (Which is what I'm doing right now. I'm annoying myself!)

I can't stand it when there's a long line and people don't have their payment ready. You had 20 minutes to dig through your purse/unending abyss to locate your credit card. Why were you just staring into space that whole time?

Or when people don't use their car blinker when it would actually be helpful.

Or cats. You know, in general. 

But these annoyances are all petty. I usually just sigh or shake my head in disapproval and move on. 

In conclusion, I just realized what a great name Peeve would be for a dog. Or a baby goat on a skateboard (cutest thing ever, and I will continue to find excuses to post him places).

Photo borrowed from somewhere on the internet.

Reader Request: Obsession

This request comes from John, the roommate of a friend of mine here in Virginia. I've been to a couple of the same parties as John, after which we became facebook friends, via which I have learned that we have a lot of similar interests, including a passion for the great citizens of Pawnee. Run-on sentence complete. On to the post!


Here are my top five obsessions, in no particular order:
1. Elmo hats. I wore one very nearly every day from sixth to eighth grade. I think I had about five different ones over that span, but they all featured Elmo. Also, I always wore it backward. Awesome? Sure.
2. Lakers. After my high school graduation, I took pictures with my family, two friends caught me on my way out, and then we went to watch the Lakers game. It was during finals. I needed to see it. Needed. 
3. Volleyball. I wasn't good, but I also wasn't bad. I loved playing and watching and practicing so much that I was a stats/ball girl for the boy's team for three years in high school. I even got PE credit for boy's volleyball practice. Blammo.
4. Roswell. I've been obsessed with a lot of TV shows - Friends, SNL, HIMYM, Alias, and 24, just to name a few - but I really let my crazy flag fly with Roswell. The best example I can give is that I had a party for the finale, and a friend and I made themed cupcakes and a list of rules. The last rule essentially stated that if people were not quiet during the show, we would have no problem asking them to leave. Serious business.
5. Matthew Paige Damon. I may have once started decoupaging a pair of shoes with pictures of his face. Just maybe. Judge me freely.


There are some other obsessions that didn't quite hit the crazy meter enough to make the top five which include: SNL, Facebook, finding the perfect boot, ping pong, troll dolls, Ingrid Michaelson (her music, not really her, although she seems like a lovely person), Diet Pepsi, the proper spelling of homonyms, unicorns, pirates, and more. I wonder what the difference is between obsession and passion. Is obsession just an unhealthy version of being passionate about something or someone? And where does addiction land on that scale? I have no answers here, people. 


On a more serious note, I wish I could tell you that I am both obsessed with and addicted to Jesus. That He consumes my every thought and that all I want is more more more. But in all honesty, I'm not quite there yet. I love Him, I desire Him, I strive to honor Him with my life and with my capitalization of His pronoun, but I am not wholly obsessed. Maybe one way I can get there is to decrease my time with my earthly obsessions and increase my time with Him. And maybe that could be my most lasting, beautiful obsession. 


In conclusion, the first thing I thought of when I read "Obsession" was Calvin Klein's Obsessions for Men which is totally strange since Jeff and I are not fragrance people. 


The end.

Reader Request: Bugs and the Things That Bug in Virginia

This request comes from my Uncle Tom. Hi, Tom! 


Bugs in Virginia:
1. I recently had a cicada the size of my husband's thumb hanging out on Eiley's nursery window. Luckily it was outside. It seemed to have some kind of fur, which added to its creepy factor. 

Horrifying.

2. Buster and I saw two giant spiderwebs and two giant spiders on the tree outside our apartment on a walk last week. Terrifying. (Okay, the webs were kind of beautiful.) 
3. Apparently Jeff walked into one of those spiderwebs a couple of days ago. I am still thanking the Lord that one of those spiders didn't land on him.
4. I went to a grassy area behind my apartment on Friday to toss the ball for Buster. I came inside after approximately five minutes with three welts. Vicious bugs.
5. I went to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens on Saturday. I imagined an idyllic afternoon, pushing my beautiful daughter through the pristine gardens, then sitting on a bench near the fountains to scribble my thoughts into a notebook. I sat on one bench and was promptly bitten twice. I moved to a different bench, across the park, and an unidentifiable bug which seemed to have ill intentions hovered near Eiley's face. She was napping and thus defenseless, so we left. It was too hot there anyway.


Things That Bug in Virginia:
1. Bugs. See above.
2. The DMV.
3. The weather. It's hot and humid for 5 and a half months of the year, frigid for five and a half months of the year, and bearable for a few weeks. I'd say there are about seven days of perfection. (Sidenote: Having poor weather all the time does not make me appreciate nice weather more. I lived most of my life in California, and I always noticed the blue skies, cool breeze, mild warmth from the sun. And when I move back in approximately nine months, I will continue to appreciate that beautiful weather. I will daily say, "Weather, you are beautiful. I love you. Those people in Virginia are suckahs.")
4. The natural disasters. Dismal Swamp Wildfire, a little earthquake, and Hurricane Irene, all in a week. I survived Virginia 2011!
5. The drivers. This is a military town, so most people are coming from different states with their own state's way of driving. It's a mess. 
6. The lack of a good beach. There's just something off about the beaches here. Perhaps it's that the sun doesn't set over the water. Or simply that I'm not close enough to the beach to bike to it. Or perhaps it's that the one time I went in the water here, I was attacked by tiny stinging sea creatures. (Also in this category: The complete lack of Disneyland.)
7. The ghettoness. Okay, I suppose there is ghettoness everywhere, not just Virginia. But really, why do people do stuff like this: 

That is all. Thanks for asking me to complain, Tom. That was cathartic.

Reader Request: A Brief Examination of Commitmentphobes

I recently had a Lobster request a blog about why guys over 25 are afraid to commit. I've racked my brain trying to come up with an answer, but I'm really not sure. This is partly because I haven't personally had to deal with that and mostly because I am not a single 25 year old guy. But here are my guesses:


1. They think someone who looks like...umm...who do guys think is really hot these days? Katy Perry? Beyonce? Claudia Schiffer? Sure, let's go with Claudia Schiffer. They think that someone who looks like Claudia Schiffer and acts like Mother Theresa and cooks like Paula Deen will come along any minute.
2. They are afraid they won't get to play enough WOW or Black Ops or Frisbee Golf.
3. They think they need to have their whole life figured out before they can even have a girlfriend.
4. They're afraid of babies.
5. They are babies.
6. They think all women will try to change them.
7. They have parental issues or [insert psycho babble here].
8. They actually aren't afraid of commitment and just haven't met the right girl yet.
9. They know that if they get married, they'll have to stop sleeping with their teddy bear. Or stuffed monkey. Or blankie.
10. They are being controlled by an evil overlord/puppetmaster who threatens to smite them if they ever settle down.


Again, I don't know much about this subject. Any other Lobsters want to weigh in? Ooo...any commitmentphobic Lobsters want to weight in?

Reader Topic Request: Prostate Health

Today's Request comes to us from Mrs. Monica Thelin, an old friend of mine from the church where I grew up. She is super creative and artistic, so I was a little surprised when she requested a blog on prostate health. Yeah, okay, she was probably joking, but I did guarantee I'd write about the first three requests I received and this was the third, so here we go:


My good friend Arabella recently graduated from Regent with her MFA in Acting. To celebrate this educational victory, her parents gave her the greatest gift of all - a puppy! (Wait. The greatest gift of all is salvation. Puppies are just a close second.) Arab decided on an Isabella tan dachshund, half because they're cute and half because they kind of look like Harry Potter's house elf, Dobby. Initially she wanted a Boston Terrier, which I think looks like a seal, so apparently Arabella just likes dogs that look like other creatures. She picked the puppy up from a breeder in Alabama on Monday. 


Lobsters, meet Heidi:

Heart...warmed.

Heidi came with an official clean bill of health; therefore this, my friends, is one healthy weiner!

Reader Topic Request: Hair Dye

Today's request comes from my friend Cecie, who is a super talented actress, seamstress, party host, friend, etc, etc. The second time Jeff and I hung out outside of the office was to paint Cecie's house, so obviously she had something to do with our marriage. Plus she and her husband are just super fun people. Proof:

Here they are stealing the cake at my wedding.

Anyway, this post is not about Mark and Cecie. It's about hair dye. Ready? Thoughts on hair dye:


1. It is sometimes awesome and iconic.

If you haven't seen Run Lola Run yet, you should. It's the best movie you'll ever read.

2. It can be abused.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

3. It can go accidentally wrong. Like when I went to "Fantastic" Sams to get "highlights" the summer before my junior year of college. I have this dumb issue with getting my hair done - I feel like it needs to be noticeable in order for me to get my money's worth. That's why I rarely get a trim; I just grow it until the split ends are ridiculous and then chop it all off. Sad. Anyway, same deal with the one time I professionally colored it. They asked what color I wanted as highlights, and I basically asked for the blondest of the blonde. They asked how much I wanted in there, and I asked for a lot. Therefore, this was my own fault:

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Okay, you really can't tell just how disastrous it was from this picture; however, I have proof that it was terrible. I think I've mentioned before that my mother is super supportive. Like, ridiculously supportive. But the day I came home with my "highlights" she said, "What happened?!" Not hello. Not something vague and diplomatic. Not even "well, it'll grow out." No, she went straight for "What happened?!" Yeah, it was that bad. Hair dye is not to be trifled with.
4. Sometimes it's just nice to be able to use it. I got my first gray hair about five years ago. I thought it was cool. It kind of stuck up in the back of my head, so I named it Al (short for Alfalfa, obviously). But now Al has a LOT of friends and it's not as cool. So I've been hiding them with the magic of dye.
5. It seems to be a Hollywood necessity. See? Even my celebrity BFF, Emma Stone, is into it.

I think of her as a redhead though.

And those are my thoughts on hair dye. Cecie, do you have anything to add? 

Reader Topic Request: Wedgies

I recently asked for topic suggestions via facebook, and the first one I received was wedgies. This came from Edwin, a friend of mine from church. He recently turned 34 and is obviously very mature for his age. For reals though, he and his wife Stefanie are wonderful, generous people who have consistently modeled servant hearts, so it's my pleasure to fulfill his request. Hence, my thoughts on wedgies:


1. Wedgies are uncomfortable. I had one for a solid hour when I was pregnant a couple of months ago, and the wedgie successfully kept my mind off of the giant watermelon I was lugging in front of me. Since I was so heavy, I couldn't dislodge the wedge discreetly in the car, so I'm sure someone in the parking lot at Panera had quite the visual that day. I mean, I looked around to make sure no one was watching, but I'm sure I could have just missed someone.
2. Wedgie is a funny word. 
3. I know a guy who has a perma-wedgie. Seriously, he turns around and I feel like I can see him clenching. And it's not like I just go around staring at this person's butt. He's an actor, and his perma-wedgie has been on stage in the spotlight many times. It's distracting. And I will never tell who it is so don't ask, thankyouverymuch.
4. In the movies, bullies often dole out wedgies to nerds. I find this hard to believe since I would think that any bullying that involves underwear would eventually also involve lawyers these days.
5. Wedgies are interesting because you can't tell from the front if someone has one or not. Let's examine:

See? Edwin may or may not have a wedgie in this picture.
The world will never know.

The end.