Do My Teeth Make Me Look Fat?

Jodi says:
i will be home on friday

Jodi says:
want to do something sat?

Lindsay says:
This coming Saturday?

Jodi says:
yes

Lindsay says:
Uhm, yes.

Lindsay says:
I think I have MoH-ly duties from like 1pm to 3pm...but you can come with me...it's reception decoration shopping.

Lindsay says:
The only think I have to do is church @ 5:33, but you should come and then we can do dinner and DAAAAAANCING!

Lindsay says:
(as long as I'm not puffy anymore.)

Jodi says:
ill go to church and dancing with u.....that sound like FUN

Jodi says:
u still puffy?

Lindsay says:
a little. on the right side of my face.

Lindsay says:
not enough to tell I had my teeth out...just enough to look REALLY FAT.

Lindsay says:
Horrifying.

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Phantom Cheek Chub: another unfortunate side-effect of wisdom teeth removal.

Stay tuned for Tempting Tuesday...on *gasp* a Tuesday!!

Definition of Rude

Overheard on MSN Messenger today...

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Jodi says:
definition of rude: watching "the hills" during lunch hour on your computer in the LECTURE HALL with no headphones and the sound turned WAY UP

Jodi says:
stop me before i do something i will regret

Lindsay says:
No punching in the lecture hall.

Lindsay says:
It's worse that it's "The Hills"

Jodi says:
yes it is

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LC fans we're not.

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Listening to: Scorpions - Rock You Like A Hurricane

Phone Licker

Please enjoy today's installment of "He Said/She Said." The following conversation is factual. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

--------------

Cast of characters
L-Dubb (LD): Me. Attractive, unassuming office manager.
Sparky (S): My "boss." Foul-mouthed "Flogging Molly" fan. In essence, a modern day "Big." (Think Tom Hanks, not Chris Noth.) Essentially, 13-year old trapped in a 30-year old's body.
Mrs. Busybody (Mrs. B): Random, innocent, unsuspecting customer who called at the worst possible moment.

Setting
LD is sitting at her desk, quietly checking her Facebook working. S comes tripping through the front door, gear in tow. S is no longer sniffing, hacking, coughing, and generally dying of a cold while standing up like he has been all morning.

Conversation
LD: Welcome back, Sparky!
S: You miss me?
LD: Uhm. Sure?
S: (tripping over his murse) F*** you! I know you f***in' missed me.
LD: Right. Mr. F called for you. I sent a couple builders into your voicemail.
S: (yelling from his office) I f***in' hate Mr. F. I'm not calling that bast*** back.
LD: (to herself) Oooookay, Sparky.
S: (coming out of his office) DUDE! Listen to this! *breathes in reaaaaaly deep through his nose*
LD: Uhm, good for you?
S: F*** you! I can breathe! Can't you hear that? *breathes in reaaaaly deep again* I'm not stuffed up with all that d*** mucus.
LD: Did you take something? (under her breath) Like crack?
S: (pacing back and forth) This Sudafed stuff. You shove it up your nose and now I'm not all f***in' stuffed up! You should really try it!
LD: I'll have to remember that if I get sick because you're running a fever and yet insist on coming to work.
S: (stops pacing) Oh! You'll get sick.
LD: (reaches to answer the phone) Thanks.
LD: (answers ringing phone) D's, this is L-Dubb.
S: (yells to LD while walking back into his office) You'll get sick because I made sure and licked your phone earlier! *begins making disturbing slurping noises while cranking up "Flogging Molly Radio" on Pandora*
Mrs. B: Excuse me dear, but who's been licking your phone!?!?


I love my job. Really, I do.








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Listening to: Asleep At The Wheel - Across The Alley From The Alamo

Special Men, Tortillas, and Yard Ducks

Today is my Grandma's 82nd birthday. Honestly, I had forgotten until 1:00pm when I looked at my iGoogle Homepage and saw "Grandma's Birthday!!" on my calendar. Oops.

I decided to make a phone call right that second to alleviate some of my guilt wish Grandma a very happy birthday. The following phrases are parts of our conversation....she's something else!

(Grandma, Grandpa, and the grandkids)

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L-Dubb: So Grandma, how's Grandpa doing?
Grandma: (hurriedly) He's fine.
LD: That's good! What's he been...
G: (cutting me off) Did I tell you that I have 3 ducks now?!
LD: Uhm, ducks? You got ducks?
G: They fly in every night at 6 o'clock for dinner! Two drakes and a hen. I think the hen is sitting eggs somewhere. Could you come over and look for the nest? Oh, and since you'd be over looking for the nest maybe you could move some rocks for me.

Later...

LD: So, Grandma...did you get my letter about El Salvador?
G: (biiiig sigh) Yeah. I'm just not excited you're going there. It's seedy!

Later...

G: Does your little group (speaking about Pathways) ever go to South Carolina?
LD: You mean for missions?
G: Yeah.
LD: Uhm, generally we try to go out of the country for our big mission trips. Why?
G: Oh, I send money to South Carolina for Feed the Children. Those pictures of the hungry little African-Americans made me sad.
LD: That's good you send them money, Grandma.
G: Jennie said I can't call them anything but "African-Americans" now. Did you know that? It's not okay to call them anything else.

Later...

G: I saw an ad for a couple Peekapoo/Dachshund/Corgi mix dogs in the paper yesterday. I sure would like to have a dog. That one sounds pretty small, right? Maybe we could just adopt both of them. I could walk both at the same time.
LD: Well...that would be a lot of walking to take care of two dogs. (The extent of the walking my Grandma does in a day is from the kitchen to get more Diet Pepsi to her chair to finish her "stories.") Are you up for all that? What does Grandpa think of a dog?
G: (another biiiiig sigh) Your Grandfather has his own ideas about things.

Later...

G: Your Grandpa has a tortilla hang-up lately.
LD: Tortillas?
G: He wants to wrap everything up in a tortilla.
(I changed the subject with that one.)

Later...

G: Does your little group (again, Pathways) have parties?
LD: We do. We try to plan something fun at least once a month.
G: Do you meet anyone special (extra emphasis on "special") at these parties? Hmmmmmm?
LD: (playing dumb) Special? Like what Grandma?
G: Oh, you know...special men!!
LD: (head in my hand) No, Grandma...no special men. (under my breath + sarcasm) I'm still just as hopeless as ever!
G: That's okay, honey. Some women just don't get married. We'll still love you.

---------------------

"Special Men" or no "Special Men..." my Grandma's got my back! Happy birthday, Grandma!

King of the Oogers

The following is a delightful conversation I was just involved in as a "sweet" little old man waddled into my office asking for my boss. (It's going to be a long day!)

---------------
L-Dubb: Hi there! How can I help you?
Little Old Man: Is Andrew (my boss) here?
LD: He is. I'll let him know you're here and he'll be right with you.

*I get up, walk to Andrew's office, come back, and sit down*

LD: He'll be right up, he's just finishing up with a phone call.
LOM: Thank you, young lady!
LD: Of course!

*2 minutes elapse as LOM peruses the show room and Andrew drags his feet getting off the phone*

LOM: I noticed as you stood up that you're a very tall woman...did you play any basketball in school?

(Sidenote: The fastest way to exasperate me is to comment on my height and then ask if I played basketball. I did not. I don't have ANY coordination. Quit making assumptions and move on.)

LD: (awkward laughter) I am tall! No basketball in school...wasn't really my thing.
LOM: That's alright. You're pretty enough it doesn't matter.
LD: (even more awkward laughter) Thank you, sir.
LOM: I always told my wife that I loved tall women. She's not that tall, but I would just love to get my hands on a woman your size.

*Cue LOM wiggling his eyebrows at me* (Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.)

LD: (only able to utter one weak-hearted laugh...too ooged for more) Uhm, haha, uh, that's nice you like tall women.
LOM: (more eyebrow wiggling) Oh, I do.
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And with that, Andrew finally exits his office. I'm almost convinced he sat in there laughing at my plight with The Kind of the Oogers.

That's just d-freakin'-lightful.

I'm "Sick in the Head."

Conversation overheard at my house this morning, while trying to figure out if it was worth making a meatloaf for dinner tonight:

Mama W.: "Now, you won't be home tonight, right?"
L-Dubb: "I'll be home after the gym."
MW: (incredulously) "You're not going out tonight!?"
LD: "No. I'll be gone all day tomorrow so I'm staying home."
MW: "Wait. Is today Friday?"
LD: "Yeah."
MW: (this time, mockingly) "Today is Friday and you're not going out!?"
LD: "Nope. Staying home all night."
MW: "Hmmm. Are you sick in the head or something!?"

*Cue my brother laughing uncontrollably*

LD: "Nice, Mom. I'm totally blogging about this."