Monthly Archives: November 2014

Advice from a younger me

my mom has often said that no one could make me laugh or crack a smile until i was like 9

my mom has often said that no one could make me laugh or crack a smile until i was like 9. so this is me, full-fledged smiling at 3-years-old in my sunday best.

You know those “Letter to myself at 18,” or “A lesson to a younger me,” articles? Well those are stupid.

Last night, single sober and home for the holidays, I was up late and sifting through my childhood bookshelves. I stumbled upon 3 diaries that I literally have not cracked since before Facebook even existed. I know. Can you even think that far back. I know.

It may be too late for 23-year-old me to go back and advise Mexico-traveling Augusta to not put her hair in cornrows, but it’s ABSOLUTELY NOT too late for 12-year-old Augusta to give me wisdom in my current quarter-life-crisis age. This blog will have direct quotes and/or wise proverbs from multiples diaries from circa 95-2004, and you’re welcome.

Circa 1995: It is absolutely possible to pinpoint the downfall of my generation

ok

ok

See here. I wasn’t coherent enough to write in a language that already exists, but I still gave myself the “You’re #1” sticker. A sign of self-entitlement, narcissism, and overall “A for participation,” also known as, the downfalls of millennials.

Circa ’95: You can predict your own future

art

art

Foreshadowing that I would eventually one day become an amateur calligrapher.

Circa ’99 maybe: If you don’t want someone to read something, write “The art of algebra mathematics” on the front of it

A very convincing imitation of a text book.

F*cking genius.

This entire book is filled with entries, but from GOD ONLY KNOWS what year. I put the dates and the time I wrote in it, but apparently, years were not important to me. The book was published in ’99 so we’ll go with that.

January 2, 1999: It’s not official unless God OR Jesus signs your contract “at any time”

I can only assume I learned what a signed document was from Lucy in "It's the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown!"

I can only assume I learned what a signed document was from Lucy in “It’s the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown!”

Take notes, peasants.

February 5, 1999: You can’t teach people to be cool

I was "I can't even"-ing before white girls couldn't even.

I was “I can’t even”-ing before white girls couldn’t even.

So don’t even try

Circa 2003: Don’t commit to lockets

violence was the answer here

violence was the answer here

This diary was found like this. The picture is worth a thousand unlocked words.

September 14, 2003: How to play hard to get

dating effing guru

dating effing guru

At the time, it’s evident that “kool” was more in touch with teen-culture than “cool.” I should also note that above this step-by-step survival guide, I had listed the top 10 hottest guys in my class, and Ashton Kutcher was number one. #notinfluencedbymedia

I promised a friend that I would include a picture of me in cornrows in this blog and I literally cannot find a picture and my mom is rushing me to go run errands with her and my life is hard bye

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That one time I thought I had oral cancer

This is a story of a real white girl who thought she had actual cancer because she had a sore throat and suspicious tongue/throat bumps for three straight weeks. It is not dramatic or ridiculous at all.


It all started the Tuesday after Halloween. My throat hurt. I thought nothing of this.

Two weeks later.

It’s 1:13 PM on a Saturday afternoon and I’m babysitting. Grand Master 2 and 1/2 year-old Wesley had just laid down in his bed chambers for his daily nap. Since my throat still hurt, I decided I would take a casual glance at it because why not.

The face of the devil himself was staring back at me in the form of bumps. Bumps I had never seen. All the bumps. FREAKING BUMPS Y’ALL

well.

NOTHING LIKE FREE TIME AND WIFI. I proceeded to spend the next hour or so incessantly Internetting/self diagnosing/stressing/sweatIng and taking four thousand iPhone photos with flash. Literally do not go through my camera library right now.

My “omg i have cancer” thought process

ok so i have bumps on my throat, they’ve been there 2 weeks, I’ve had no other symptoms of being sick, i don’t have allergies, so basically i have pre-HIV, because problems with the tongue are usually just results of bigger diseases going on, so no big deal, i either have diabetes, cancer, or pre-HIV/pre-pre-AIDS, even though i’ve never even done illegal drugs, but i made out with a stranger last new years, and delayed symptoms are real, and i had the stomach bug a month ago and i lost 7 pounds in 3 days so it’s clear my immune system is crashing and oh my god what if it goes to my brain then i have to decide if i want to go the death with dignity or just the old fashioned way and oh god now i’ll NEVER finish the Not That Kind of Girl book 

I literally hadn’t been this distraught since I found out Nelly had his own reality TV show, naturally titled Nellyville.

I texted friends. I told them I’m dying. I told them cancer is real and I have it. All of them told me to stop googling.

As weird fate would have it, I was due for the bi-annual teeth cleaning. I made the dentist stick a flashlight in my face and look at my throat. I was ready for him to tell me I’m fine and it’s nothing, but that’s not what he told me. I repeat that is not what he told me.

“Yeah, those are odd. Let’s get you back here next week to see what those bumps do. If they’re not gone, I’m going to take a biopsy.”

me

OH.

oh.

ok.

I realize biopsies aren’t necessarily a big deal, because there is such a thing as benign, and things aren’t what they seem, and things go away.

On the other hand, I’ve never broken a bone, I have 20/20 vision, and my worst injury to date was drunk-spraining my ankle in Deep Ellum Labor Day weekend 2014. SO THIS BIOPSY REVELATION THREW MY HEALTHY ASS FOR A LOOP.

Then I had to make a decision. do I tell my parents about this? do i really want to freak them out, make them worry, ruin their Thanksgiving, panic them??? will my mom send me to M.D. Anderson?? So of course I decide not to. I tell my sister I’m not telling the parents so everything is official.

48 minutes later.

IMG_1899

oh.. ok.. wait.. what?

My mom, who has been a hygienist longer than most of my blog readers have been alive, responded to my I MIGHT HAVE 23 YEAR OLD CANCER text with “cinnamon candy” accusations.

ok.

Not too much happened in the countdown week to the biopsy appointment. Just some mild precautions on my end. You know. Like scheduling 87 appointments with different doctors in Dallas.

One with my OBG (for literally no other reason than to be extreme, SRY IF IT’S TMI~*~*~*~), an appointment with a Baylor doctor specializing in otolaryngology, and one with a general ENT doctor who could get me in A.S.AP. on ZocDoc. SO, if you’re into math, including the dental appointments, that is five appointments in a two week span for a sore throat because I’m not extreme.

So now we’re all caught up to the day of biopsy, also known as, this morning.

My computer alarm rang out at 6:45 A.M. Yes, computer. My one iPhone charger broke last night and I had to use all my cunning survival skills to figure out how I would wake up in the morning without an iPhone.

and if that isn’t a script for the next cast away movie idk wut is

I don’t want to talk about it but 1 car charger, 1 wall, and 3 cords later, I had literally spent $70 on chargers.

SEVENTY murderme

ANYWAYS

I was on time for the dentist appointment. My bumps were still there and I was still in pain, so I was certain I would be getting a biopsy. I had mentally prepared myself. I had sent out car selfie snapchats saying “biopsssyyy tyymmmmeee” and everything.

WELL I WAS WRONG. He examined the bumps and instead of going the biopsy route, he decided to prescribe me antibiotics (clindamycin???? i’m pretty sure i once took this as an acne medication??? i’m pretty). Then he scheduled me another appt for the following week. ok then.

EXCEPT I’M STILL CONVINCED I HAVE ALL THE DISEASES IN THE WORLD.

Which is fine because i had another appt that morning with the ENT guy from ZocDoc.com it’s fine hehe. This doctor knew everything there was ever to know about tongues and all things mouth and idk he might have been God himself.

He took one good look at my throat and told me it was all entirely normal. NOT EVEN SICK. LIKE JUST ACTUAL NORMAL. OKAY THEN. He pulled out a large text book filled with pictures of tongues. He pointed to one that looked like mine. The text under the photo said “Prescription: reassurance.”

oh

so i guess inflammed lymph tissue and a possible case of acid reflux all mix together to create an anticlimactic diagnosis complete with an over the counter drug recommendation.

it’s fine. i’m actual fine.

Screen Shot 2014-11-25 at 8.03.22 PM

{Images via: www.thatlittlespark.comwww.tumblr.comimgarcade.comnooffenseuvmbut.tumblr.comzaniamorph7.tumblr.com,}

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I asked you what you wanted me to blog about and you didn’t disappoint

I’m getting emotional watching the little mermaid while writing this but I’m going to try to hold it together.

IMG_5877-1

The other day I Instagrammed, asking what you wanted me to blog about and the responses were just ok. Just kidding they were awesome. Some were really funny, and some were potentially offensive to other readers, which is also really funny.

Here’s what you wanted me to blog about:

  • Marketing/social media/P.R. tips. I don’t know anything about P.R. writing. I considered offering some social media tips in my recent self-important my job is real blog, but maybe it will be a future blog, or maybe it will just be a one-on-one convo and not a blog who knows.
  • Man buns and men in skinny jeans in general. A man buns blog is coming. (Spoiler alert: I’m not into them. Another spoiler alert: I’ve asked like 78 girls their feelings on man buns. Blog research is real).
  • How to break it to your extended family that they aren’t the target blog audience. This is a brilliant idea, known to be true by many bloggers I’m sure. While we all cringe knowing our grandmas, aunts, and step-uncles know about our going out habits, we don’t stop blogging about it.
  • Why dressing like a poor chic hippy is actually so expensive. Valid point. Why is it so hard to pull off homeless chic? And why do you have to marry into a trust-fund family to afford it? How much to men with man buns spend on hair products?
  • Why celiacs hate the gluten free trend. This would be a guest post, by my cousin Judy, who is also a blogger and a mother. She is a mommy blogger. Most mommy bloggers are basic and overly fluffy, but this blog is REAL and hilarious and will offer a nice afternoon blog work break. See here: http://wheresmymilk.wordpress.com.
  • A typical day in the life of Augusta. I’m a celebrity and the people want to know what that’s like.
  • Sunday fundayz. One time me and two friends accidentally got drunk at a nail salon on a Sunday. Dallas is weird. I should probably get started on more research for this blog and stop everything I’m doing and start brunching???
  • My budget. I got impatient and wrote this already.
  • My intern. <<<3333
  • Embracing rainbows. I don’t know what this means but it sounds sugary.
  • Tinder. I actually have only been on one Tinder date and it was boring. I haven’t been on the app for over a year. However, PMS has some great Tinder blogs to quench your ohmygodshedidwhat thirst.
  • The epidemic of boudoir photoshoots, pre-weddings. I want to write this blog. I really do. But what about all the white girls out there actually doing this? Will I hurt their feelings? Do I have enough material to write this? How many funny things are there to say about smiling eyes or “smeyes”? You do you I guess?

FuTuRe BLaWgz tO fOLLoW~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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Who is Ira Roth?

I was recently requested to blog about budgeting. HAHA. ok.

me, setting up my budget.

I’m obviously a perfect candidate to blog about personal financing in the adultworld because I have ABSOLUTELY NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE done any of the following things:

  • Lost my debit card, especially not Halloween 2014
  • Accidentally signed up for a credit card at Marshalls
  • Forget to sign up for a toll tag, then forget to Google how to pay, then forget to pay
  • Over-drafted. Ever.

….idontwanttotalkaboutit. ihaveamarshallscreditcard. thestruggleisreal.

REALIZATIONS ABOUT MY FINANCIAL HABITS COMPARED TO THOSE AROUND ME:

1. Everyone and their dog has a 401K and or “roth” savings, and at least most people have dabbled in stocks and bonds.

like WUT?????

something tells me 401K isn’t a rapper

Was there a personal financial class in college that I missed???? Was I supposed to register in the Barnes & Noble self-help budgeting aisle for my graduation party????? How did I miss the “know everything there is to know about money in the adult world” memo???? CAN YOU NOT HAVE AN IRA ROTH ACCT???? YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL BAD????? I NEED A HUSBAND???????????????????

2. Some people are saving their receipts

There is no moment of self-doubt and reflection quite like when shopping/eating with a friend, and she asks for her receipt and saves it in her wallet. *wait should I have saved my receipt?? is there a chance to win $3,000 by taking a survey on the back?? what is she doing???*

me, shopping with receipt-saver friend.

Apparently people get tax money back if they save their receipt??? WHERE DO YOU PUT ALL YOUR RECEIPTS??? HOW DO YOU KEEP TRACK OF THEM ALL AN ENTIRE YEAR??? HOW MUCH MONEY DO YOU ACTUALLY SAVE?? WHO TAUGHT YOU THIS???? DO YOU SOMEHOW MAKE YOUR RECEIPTS DIGITAL OR IS THIS ALL LITERALLY TANGIBLE PAPER BECAUSE I’M SCARED.

3. Then there are those who make Google Excel Docs and manually enter their expenditures

haha.

but like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MANUALLY ENTER IN THE AMOUNTS YOU SPEND ON A DAILY BASIS???????????????????????

I am so not one of these people that it actually hurts. I have a Mint account (more on that in three seconds) and that is a HUGE LEAP AND BOUND for me. I didn’t even really monitor it for about 8 months, I just had it so I could receive death-threat e-mails every week and feel suicidal looking at the “eating out/alcohol/shopping” trends.

My budget-saavy friends say Mint is basic and doesn’t even budget right. like WUT??? So instead, they do it all manually in Excel and keep track of every cent with just a calculator and their checking account like HAHALOLWUT??/ so much wut

4. Mint.com is not a fashion blog by the Olsen twins

jUsT cHeCkiN on MuH SpEnDiNG hAbiTs~!~!

I was once introduced to this magical witchcraft technology that keeps track of everything you spend and creates colorfully whimsical graphics and pie charts of your spending habits. This is called mint.com and it will not tell you what was on the ready-to-wear spring 2015 runways.

I use mint. The other day, I updated the budgets in it. In November, I’m doing this new thing where I ACTUALLY stick to budgets. So far it’s been easy because you can’t spend money when there are only $2 in your account #SAVINGSACCOUNTSAREREAL

Screen Shot 2014-11-13 at 7.25.41 PM

no i’m fine

About two weeks ago, I bought a $20 candle. For myself. It’s sitting next to me as I type. I just felt like I really needed a chic candle, and when you’re single, I subscribe to the theory of self-pamper. Sometimes you have to do weird things like buy yourself absurdly chic candles and flowers.

The exact candle I bought. Capri Blue in the boho luxe scent with mercury glass. I LOVE IT AND YOU CANNOT STOP ME.

Click here if you want the candle. Or don’t. I don’t get commission if you buy it. bye.

Image/gif creds: http://giphy.com, http://www.thedreslyn.com, bookriot.compandawhale.comgifrific.com

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Dear everyone, my job is real. Love, me.

Locating a generic social media photo is easier than finding babies on your newsfeed.

I love talking about social media so let’s do that then. In fact let’s start with some context, or a “Hahtag Throwback Thursday,” if you will.

It’s July 2011. Father Neal and Augusta are in Lubbock, TX between the hours of 13:00 and 15:00. Father and daughter walk into a local grocery store, Leonard’s (RIP), for a few insignificant knick knacks. Augusta glances at her phone, then cheerfully announces, “I’m the mayor of Leonard’s on FourSquare!” Father ponders this and says, “And where does that get you in life?

~*~Fast forward to November 2014~*~

I can now answer my dad’s question. IT GET’S ME PAID, DAD. ACTUAL JOB-STATUS PAID. IN A REAL AMERICAN CITY AND EVERYTHING.

Social media is a real job, people. It’s a thing, much to my parent’s dismay. In fact, it’s really amazing and an act of God that I am where I am today, considering my parents were NOT going to let me move to Dallas without a some form of magical rent-paying machine. So when I told them my plan after college was to move to Dallas for an unpaid internship, they said absolutely not. Y’all, I cannot stress enough, it was a fight for about two months, of trying to convince my parents to let me move to Dallas without a job.

Thank God for the family therapist, who finally convinced them the ways of the world 2013. YAS MOM, YOU PAID A MAN TO CHANGE YOUR MIND TO CONFORM TO THAT OF YOUR THEN-22 YR OLD DAUGHTER, AND HE, I, AND DALLAS SEND YOU MANY THANKS.

So while we’re all gathered together on the topic of social media, here is where I insert common myths associated with my job.

i’ve actually never played farmville in my life.

MYTH NO. 1: I SIT AND TWEET ALL DAY.

This is annoying to no end, but I suppose that if I didn’t work in media, and had no idea how an agency operated, this is what I would think too. The fact is, I do not sit and tweet/post statuses all day. If I did that, I would very likely get fired, because doing that means none of the content was approved by editors or clients, WHICH MEANS DEATH.

Does sitting and tweeting even sound fun to anyone? That sounds horrid and boring and lonely. Don’t be the person that sits and tweets all day.

In all reality, I spend the LEAST amount of time inside Facebook/Twitter responding to things. The least.

Truth: It’s obviously a part of the job, but it is NOT The Job.

MYTH NO. 2: I KNOW EVERY SINGLE THING THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT ALL SOCIAL MEDIA CHANNELS AND TECHNOLOGY AND THE CLOUD AND THE PURPOSE OF LIFE.

I haven’t discovered the “know everything there is to know about social media marketing” drugs yet, but as soon as they’re available at my local CVS, I’m handing them my insurance card and O.D.’ing immediately.

Social media changes more than updates in ISIS (too soon????). Every week (if not day/hour) a feature has been added, something has been removed, organic reach is harder on the newsfeed, and your S.E.O. is in danger of going extinct. And you have to stay on top of it all while crossing off those deliverables.

I subscribe to my favorite media sites to try to StAy -N- ThE KnOw, but don’t one time a coworker in client service discovered Hyperlapse before me and it was the worst thing that’s every happened to me in my entire existence and I don’t like going back to that dark moment.

Truth: I discover platform nuances and new work-around solutions (AKA things I didn’t know before) literally every single week, and I know there’s still more to learn and master in the realm of social media/newsfeed chasing.

As far as technology goes, let’s just say I.T. is rarely bored. I hate Apple/iOS updates even more than character limits. And one time I had to call a friend to help me use the TV remote, BECAUSE NO, IT IS NOT OBVIOUS TO PUSH THE “AT&T” BUTTON BEFORE USE OK IT’S JUST NOT I CAN’T.

MYTH NO. 3: SOCIAL MEDIA STARTS AND ENDS ON THE PLATFORM.

Meaning, my job starts when I log into Facebook and type a status, then stops once its posted.

THIS COULD NOT BE FURTHER FROM REALITY. I DON’T EVEN USE FACEBOOK TO POST ON FACEBOOK.

The other day, a friend was visiting the office and he saw Microsoft Excel open on my computer. He was like, “YOU use excel????????”

my response.

Beyond just the creative phase of brainstorming and writing the content, there are hours (and eons) of strategy, analytics, and scheduling. In fact, the part your eyes see, the actual post/tweet/Instagram/update/share/comment, is the easiest (and most fun) part. It’s the GETTING IT TO YOUR EYES, at that exact (sometimes paid) place and time, and then measuring its success, the stuff that no one sees, is what really puts the food on my table.

Because what’s the point of putting out content if you don’t put it in the right place? Or if you don’t analyze its success/failures? Or predict future campaigns based on what’s in front of you? Can you eloquently explain that in laymen’s terms for a client or describe its imperative role in the brand’s overall content strategy? okimdonesorry but rly u should think about that.

Truth: I’m logged into the Microsoft office, Adobe suite, enterprise programs/tools to schedule/monitor/analyze content, CMS platforms, AND SPOTIFY every single day. 

MYTH NO. 4: SOMEONE JUST TWEETED THAT TWEET YOU JUST READ

There was once a time in my life, a short time, a long time ago, when I thought that everything I read on social media was published by someone at that second. I literally thought someone was sitting in Huffington Post offices just tweeting away, all hours of the day and night.

I was talking to someone recently who thought the same thing.

nOooOoOOoOooOoo. Almost all brand social media (and blog) content is scheduled to go live months/weeks in advance, only after rigorous editing/approval processes. Which explains why Joan Rivers rose from the dead to post about the iPhone 6.

Truth: That Halloween tweet you just read was scheduled whilst that person was simultaneously texting his or her friends about 4th of July plans. This is why real-time marketing is a distinct, if not delicately artful, branding strategy.

MYTH NO. 5: ALL I DO IS SOCIAL MEDIA 

I can’t speak for all social media marketers on this obvi.

But as for me, on any given day I could also be writing material for blogs or e-mail marketing, pulling/compiling analytics reports for blogs/e-mails/digital magazines, optimizing print content for digital through search engine optimization, researching the search volume and Google rank for keywords in an industry, auditing content, assisting in social media strategy in pitches to clients, or really anything random that pops up and involves internet.

Truth: Evernote and the reminders app are my best friends. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PHEW OK I’M DONE I HOPE WE ALL LEARNED SOMETHING VALUABLE

jk i just tweet all day

 Images via: blogs.smoda.elpais.com, thoughtcatalog.com, www.buzzfeed.com, car-memes.com, 

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Filed under tragic things

Weekends with the Parents

Sometimes your weekends revolve around brunch and sometimes they revolve around your parents’ plane ticket times. My parents have visited twice in the past month (new babies in the family will do things like that), and needless to day it’s been all but dull.

BABY BOOMERS MEET ÜBER

iPhones are hard. IOS updates, hard. But downloading apps IS LITERALLY THE EASIEST THING THAT APPLE OFFERS US CIVILIANS. For whatever reason, the baby boomer generation struggles with the downloading of the apps, but no matter, for they birthed two girls very capable of this activity. Once the app was downloaded, all my sister and I had to do was explain to our parents what Über does and why it’s going to be beneficial to all of us this weekend.

Questions my mom had about “You-ber” (I gave up trying to teach them how to pronounce it):

  • What if I need to go somewhere, what do I do?
  • So the you-ber takes me there?
  • What if I need to just go back and forth during the day?
  • So you’re saying the You-Ber will just take me where I punch in on the text machine? (Baby boomers may oft use “text machine” when referring to the “iPhone”)

The first time my mom used Über by herself, it was totally fine. The second time = ALL HELL HAD BROKEN LOOSE. Our conversation was something to the following via text:

“AUGUSTA. Uber does NOT work!!!!!!!!!!! Blasted all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It keeps asking me to fill out a survey!!!!!!!! It won’t let me get a new car!!!! I don’t want to fill out a survey1!!!!!”

“Mom just choose 4 stars!”

“It won’t let me, It’s making me survey!!!!!!!!”

Über is hard. God didn’t put my parents on this earth to ride Übers around Dallas.

MY PARENTS HAVE A LOT OF FREAKING DOGS AND DON’T YOU DARE ASK ME TO NAME THEM

White people love their dogs, this is a common American theme we’re all aware of, and The Neals are no different.

OR ARE THEY????????????????????????????????

Here’s some context: My mom has a dog-addiction. We’ve acquired the reputation around our small town that if anyone doesn’t want their dog anymore, the Neals will take it. This has happened a lot. I can never keep track, but I think my parents currently care-take 7 dogs. Let the record show that I only genuinely like one of them, Doug the Pug Neal.

It's fine i'm fine blog

This is Doug Neal and he’s the dopest pug alive

So that leaves about 6 other miniature creatures running around my house who I either A) can’t even identify or B) don’t like or touch. The latest addition to my parents’ zoo is kind of hard to explain. It’s a white little maltese. This dog came from a family member who was unable to keep it any longer, around last Christmas.

Did I mention my parents are God-awful at naming animals? God freaking awful.

My mom took it upon herself to name the new maltese Baby Jesus.

BABY. 

FREAKING.

JESUS.

YEAH. SO IF YOU’RE EVER IN CARLSBAD AND HEAR SOMEONE CALLING, “HERE BABY JESUS, COME HERE, BOY,” DON’T EXPECT TO SEE A PRAYING HUMAN IN THE DISTANCE, EXPECT TO SEE MY PARENTS SEARCHING FOR THEIR LOST MALTESE.

They call the dog “B.J.” for short. EFFING B.J.

I can’t even  y’all I *actually* can’t even. My mom thinks this name is totally fine for a dog given on Christmas. Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m not a cool high schooler anymore so I guess things like this don’t taint my cool-factor anymore. Sigh.

Names of dogs past and present in the Neal family, in no particular order:

  • Doug
  • Baby Jesus
  • Charles Lindbergh- This is a miniature greyhound, whom I hate. He’s an ugly, worthless dog. I call him rehab, because he looks like an anorexic alcoholic. I’ve called him this since high school and when I’m home I pretend I like him by speaking to him in a high pitched tone, but I avoid touching him if I can. My whole family calls him Rehab now. Rehab Neal.
  • Rojo- This was a small, red poodle, who died some years ago. I used to dress him in doll clothes when I was little. I never really liked him, but he was whatever. RIP, lil red.
  • Pixie- This was a small, black female dog my mom found half dead then rescued back to health, because she is a saint. For whatever reason, we named it that of a stripper. She is also dead. My mom really loved Pixie, and for that reason, it makes me sad she’s dead, but you know, I’m also still really messed up over Khloe and Lamar’s break up, so you have to pick your battles and hardships.
  • Winston- He was a blind schnauzer. I didn’t like him either. He died.
  • Daisy- She was the only other dog my parents have owned that I liked. She was a black pug, and she didn’t give a SH!T about anything. R.I.P., QUEEN DAISY.
  • Patriot- WAIT JUST KIDDING, my parents owned a small red heeler mutt, whom I really really liked. Patriot was a female dog my dad found, but we all thought the dog was a male for about a month. My dad never accepted this, and referred to Patriot (named after my dad’s job, Patriot Oil Drilling) as a “he” until she died. I called her Poochy because it’s kind of similar to Patriot, and I’m weird. I would take her to sonic and feed her ice cream. We had to put her down because I guess she killed Pixie or something, which actually only makes me like her more, but whatever. I get sad talking about her so I’m stopping.
  • Tiger Tom- This dog belonged to my grandparents until they died. Tiger is a small, white, male. I want to like Tiger because my Granny did, and I loved Granny, but I really struggle liking this dog. It was hit by a car and still lived. This dog just like, won’t go away.
  • Trixie- Another stirpper name dog. I can’t remember if she came with that name or if my parents did that. Trixie is another small white dog who won’t die.

I consulted my sister and these are all the dogs that we can remember. My sister actually named a quite few that I don’t remember at all (RIP Wilbur and Annie I guess????).

SHOPPING WITH MY MOM AND SISTER

My mom loves to pretend we’re The Kardashians, and takes my sister and I shopping when she’s in town. Yesterday, we were at Milk & Honey, a local boutique targeted towards female millenials trying to find life in uptown, Dallas. My sister needed something to wear to her baby shower, or “Sip N See.” The sales associate brought out a hippie child dress and I had to tell her it was “too boho” for my sister, who is into classic styles, not trendy things (she later bought a fur vest but that’s besides the point). My mom then asked, “What would you name my style, Gus?!?!?????” I said mom, there is no word for your style.

She then said something really spot on, which happens sometimes. She said, “I think my style is like ‘electric New Mexican.'” I said YES. You are THE electric New Mexican.

Meanwhile, my dad is also in M&H with us, and finds a women’s hat, similar to the picture below.

“Augusta, can men wear this too?” says my father, wearing the hat.

TAKING MY PARENTS TO MY OFFICE FOR THE FIRST TIME

I’ve been lucky enough to have been in my current position at work for about a year and a half now. My parents visited the offices for the first time recently. I was a little worried about bringing them in because downtown Dallas can be over-stimulating if you’re born and raised from Carlsbad. I mean, there are CORNER OFFICES and IPHONE SIXES IN OUR PRESENCE.

When I went to pick up my parents in the lobby of my work building, my mom was wearing Dr. Dre Beats headphones.

I DON’T EVEN OWN BEATS. SHE WAS WEARING THEM AROUND HER NECK.

I was like, “Haha, mom, let’s maybe not wear those. Let’s put them in your purse.” She was like, “But they’re so cool???”

She put them in her purse sitll plugged into her iPhone, which was also plugged into her iPhone charger, because, “I NEED THEM PLUGGED TOGETHER, I LOSE THEM,” as I’ve been told.

As I was giving them a “tour” and walking by the editorial department of D Magazine, my dad literally called out to people while they were working, and said, “Need story ideas???? OIL AND GAS!!! DRILLING!!!”

me trying to go with the flow in this moment

MY PARENTS HAVE OPINIONS ON MEXICAN FOOD

“I knew we were in trouble when they brought out rolled enchiladas. Tortilla are made flat for a reason. Enchiladas should be flat.” -My dad about the top-rated cuisine at Mesero.

Dallas Mexican restaurants apparently pride themselves on gourmet portions, and quite frankly, it pisses the Neal parental unit off. In NM, you get real Mexican food in large portions, and EVERYTHING comes with a side of rice and beans. When you sit down, you’re given a few LARGE bowls of chips that are refilled constantly.

Not in Dallas. Not last night.

Mesero served chips in mason jar-sized silver canisters, and when my parents asked for more chips, they would bring out another silver canister of chips, taking away the other one away, even though it still had chips in it, to my parents’ horror.

the Neals trying to tolerate smaller portions at Mexican food dining in Dallas

TAKING MY PARENTS TO CHURCH

This morning, we braved the traffic on 75, and I took my parents to my favorite church ever, Watermark. I was a little worried about this, because my parents treat church services the same a going to the movies. They’re paying attention, but if they have a question/comment, they say it out loud full volume like they’re the only ones in the room.

Also, Watermark is just an overwhelming environment when you’re used to small-town church life. You’re literally surrounded by thousands of strangers, and you kind of feel like you’re at a rock concert, where you don’t know any of the words. It’s fine. Then Todd started preaching. I could see his message was really sinking in with my parents and it was super exciting for me that they got to experience something I do weekly.

Overall, it’s been really fun having my crazy parents in Dallas. Today they gave me money to go get a manicure before they left. I used the money to buy groceries. Adulthood is sad.

“Giving birth does not make one a mother…. Anymore than going to church makes one a Christian.” -My mom, who actually says pretty wise things for someone who named a dog B.J.

Images/gifs credits: blog.chegg.comhttp://www.nastygal.com/http://blog.chron.com/tubular/files/2014/10/teresa-table-flip.gif

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Filed under basic white girl things, dallas things