Archive for the ‘I Need a Do-Over’ Category



Diplomatic Immunity

I’m fond of saying I have more degrees than a pot of boiling water, although that’s not really true (no matter what temperature scale you use). That said, I am really good at going to school, and I kind of love it. Today I was filling out the education portion of my new Facebook profile, and I remembered that I never technically graduated high school.

I was really busy in high school…with extracurricular activities. In fact, I was so busy with three kinds of band and two kinds of choir and two publications (but absolutely no sports whatsoever) that I couldn’t fit all my academic classes into the regular school day.

But because pretty much all the academic classes I did take were advanced placement or college level, the guidance counselor let me fulfill my last math class via a correspondence course. In fact, I took the paperwork in one day to show her I’d enrolled in it, and she promptly wrote it down on my transcript as completed—even though I hadn’t cracked the spine on the book.

I did do a few lessons, but come on: it was math. Eventually I realized the guidance counselor would never know the difference, and it was already on my transcript as a done deal. That was enough for me.

So despite my not, strictly speaking, having enough academic credits to graduate, I still came out at the top of my class. Because of that, I was invited to attend a special event the Clintons hosted at the Governor’s Mansion for that year’s high school valedictorians. At the time I didn’t think much about it. Arkansas is a small state, and I’ve met each of the Clintons several times; once I even played in a band wherein Bill sat in and shared his smooth sax sounds.

In retrospect, though, it was a pretty sweet deal. It was May 1992, and it was the last time I’d see either of the Clintons in person. Six months later, the nation would elect him as its president.

Frank Bonner, best known for his four seasons on WKRP in Cincinnati, attended the event as well. While I was busy schmoozing with the next leader of the free world, my daddy was chatting up Herb Tarlek about the state of Razorback athletics at the University of Arkansas. Good to know he had his priorities straight.

In retrospect, I suppose it’s fitting that over the years I’ve lost my diplomas from high school as well as three universities; after all, I never technically earned the first.



The Morning After

8:03 pm · category: I Need a Do-Over, Write Stuff

Last month my roommate kept her four-year-old grandson (Brayden) so her daughter (Shawn) could go out to celebrate passing passing the nursing boards. I went to bed relatively early (for me, anyway) because I had a dress rehearsal the following afternoon.

Brayden slept in the extra bedroom, so I wasn’t terribly surprised when I heard my door open around 6 a.m. and “felt” someone padding around my room; after all, he was just a disoriented kid in a strange house. But then he crawled into bed with me, and I got a little weirded out because I sleep naked. When I rolled over to look at him, his mother was staring me in the face.

“I’m just going to put some clothes on now,” I squeaked, and then I felt around on the floor until I found my pajamas (Thank goodness I have a platform bed just inches off the floor.), shimmied into them under the covers, and went back to sleep.

Four hours later I woke up because Brayden was running around the house like, I assume, little boys tend to do in the early a.m. As soon as I emerged from my room, he yelled, “Hey, Bradi! Did you know my mom slept naked with you last night?”

“Yes, well, I put clothes on when she got in bed with me, so I was naked for only a minute.” I wasn’t embarrassed. I mean, it wasn’t my fault my roommate’s daughter crawled into my bed with my naked body.

“No! Not you! My mom didn’t have no clothes on! She took ‘em off and got in bed wif you!”

It turns out Shawn was INCREDIBLY over-served the previous night. She and her designated driver friend stumbled in just before daybreak and slept in the living room, but somehow Shawn managed to drench herself and the couch in water. She stripped and climbed into bed with me—I guess because she’s slept in my room before when I’ve been out of town and was too drunk to remember the “when Bradi is out of town” part.

So although I didn’t know it at the time, I woke up that morning with a smokin’ hot 25-year-old naked chick in my bed with no effort on my part whatsoever.

And how was your weekend?



Almost Falling

I’m so far on the drop edge of yonder that I’m almost falling off into the ether.

This is the fourth incarnation of this blog.  The first two were on Blogspot, but I had my own domain name for the third.  I couldn’t afford the fees to renew the hosting in the summer of 2009.  Four months later, I realize that I’ve lived without a blog long enough.  Too much of my life happens online because of the nature of my work and my relationships, and I can’t pare all that down into 140 characters on Twitter (You can find me there listed as @DropEdge) or a cheesy status update on Facebook  (You can find me there if you know my real name).

In the last four months things have managed to somehow remain the same and yet change dramatically.  After more than a year of unemployment in a decidedly uncertain economy, I’m doing the kind of work I’ve always dreamed about doing--and I’m doing it online from the comfort of my own home.  (And usually naked.  But don’t worry; it’s not that kind of online work.  I’m working as a freelance writer, editor, and virtual assistant.)  On the other hand, I found out today that my home won’t be my own by this time next month, which means that I have to find a new place to live ASAP.  Part of me wants to pick up and move somewhere totally new and unexpected, and part of me wants to stay right here in this lovely little community in the gently rolling hills of rural Arkansas.

As usual, I still don’t have any idea what I’m doing when it comes to customizing a personal blog.  Expect this space to remain plain and ridiculously unadorned.  If I could figure out how to do cool stuff, I would.  Probably, anyway.  Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to transfer everything from the last blog to this one, but there’s no time for that now.  I have an eBook to research, 33 product descriptions to write, and 1200 people to request as friends on Facebook for various freelance jobs.




I’ve spent the last four hours trying to figure out how to get photos from Flickr into a WordPress post, and I cannot do it. No amount of searching WordPress or Flickr or even the almighty Google has resulted in anything approaching success. Ultimately, there was nothing I could do except… cry.

Three weeks ago the incompetence of three separate fast food chains infuriated me so badly that I called their respective corporate headquarters to complain. I called KFC to complain because they put lettuce on my Snacker after I expressly said no lettuce. Which is ridiculous.

For awhile now I’ve been threatening to punch pooches in the kidney if they don’t behave while I’m bathing them. But lately, I’ve only been mostly kidding.

Last week I was absolutely incensed when Kroger Fuel gave me only three cents off per gallon when I qualified for ten cents off. I may or may not have shared some very disparaging remarks regarding the character of the teenage boy manning the little cashier barn behind the bulletproof glass. I caused a scene. Me!

And now I’m crying because I can’t figure out how to put pictures in posts.

Before my family starts asking me if I’m okay a million times a day and showing up at my house unannounced and trying to take me out to dinner all the time, let me stress that I. AM. NOT. DEPRESSED.

I am… angry. This is new for me. Anger is something you swallow until you choke on it, and then you regurgitate it whole when you have your big biannual blow up. But you sure as hell don’t keep encountering it day in and day out, an anger acid reflux that roils and bubbles and burns and churns.

And I’m pretty sure I’m bored. Really, really bored. The whole unemployment thing is catching up with me now, and I’m not nearly so mentally active as I need to be. I’m not used to it being all quiet in my brain. Does anybody need anything proofread or researched? Like, for free?

I feel all naked now. Probably a good thing I couldn’t figure out that Flickr/WordPress issue, because I was going to post another kind of naked.



Word to the Walston

Here I sit, playing around on the Internet, eating Pizza Rolls, and watching Star Trek: Voyager.  TV guide tells me the episode’s special guest star is Ray Wise.  When he finally shows up on screen, I am amazed.  They did some awesome stuff in the make-up department, because he looks decades younger than when he was on TNG.
And then I realized I was thinking of Ray Walston.

I have the same problem with Little Richard and Rich Little.