My friend D

My friend, D, is an enigma. I've told him this before. I've known D for 5 years now and, truthfully, I really don't know much about him. He's the type of person that you can talk to for hours. However, after you hang up the phone, you realize that you don't know anything more about him than you did a few hours ago. He can talk all day without revealing anything about himself. I find this quality admirable and entirely frustrating. But, I've told him this before.

D is my "looks good on paper friend." I've told him this before. D's a Christian. He's successful, single, athletic, and attractive. He's the guy your parents love and every old woman has a crush on. He's the prototype guy that most southern girls grow up picturing themselves marrying. My friend, Shannon, and I have, jokingly, made it our personal mission to see to it that D marries one of us. He won't. The reasons are beyond ridiculous. But, I've told him this before.

D is quirky. He hates restaurants like Applebees and Chilis, but will argue over 88 cents at the local Bojangles. He doesn't curse or say the word 'retard,' but has no problems using "ho" as a nickname. He likes dogs, but he's allergic to them. He'll buy a $17 bottle of maple syrup just to see if it tastes different than the $3.49 bottle. He corrects people's grammar, but occassionally uses "ya'll" in a sentence. He likes ketchup, but hates tomatoes. He insists on marrying the perfect girl, but will tell you that the only perfect girl he's ever met is married. He's the guy that's frustrating to talk to, but you still find yourself calling him at least every other week. He's the crossword puzzle in the daily paper. You think, "Today I'll figure it out." But tomorrow, you're still looking for the answers. He's the guy you'll never marry and you'll always wonder why.

He's an engima. But I've told him this before.

Lions and tigers and mullets, oh my...

I grew up in a rural, North Carolina town. I don't live there now, but most of my family still does. It's a quiet place where time slows down once you hit the county line. It's where, literally, you know everyone. And, if you don't, then you know their dad or brother or cousin or step-half sister...Bottom line: every one's connected.

I always love to go home. There's something quaint, almost picturesque, about a small town. There are charming characteristics such as the old school house and the azaleas that line Main street. Even the free local gossip at the auto shop while you wait for an oil change has a certain charm to it.

But even with these small treasures, there are parts of my tiny town that unnerve me. One particular topic comes to my mind as I encountered it in the local grocery store this evening. It is - what I consider - the greatest hair faux pas of all times - the mullet. In case you are one of the 4 Americans that is unaware of what a mullet is, I have posted the ever-accurate Wikipedia definition below:

"A Mullet is a hairstyle that is short in the front, top, and sides, but long in the back"

It is important to note, that the mullet, though popular in the late 1980's and early 1990's, has all but become extinct in present day. Now, since we're all on the same page, I will continue. As a sauntered into the grocery store tonight, I was appalled to find myself amongst a sea of mullets. There were a total of 7 mullets in the store. Mind you, there were maybe 13 people total shopping. So, as you can see, I was in the minority. There were mullets of a variety of lengths and colors - some long with gray hair, some shorter with bright red hair. The mullet preyed on both the young and the old, the male and the female. It was unbias in it's torment of these individuals' craniums. Now, I wouldn't consider myself high-fashion in any manner, but I do know that the mullet has long been banned from normal society. I realize my small town operates on a slower pace than most of the U.S.; however, there has to be some social hint that can be given to these mulletteers. Maybe not so much a hint, as a social slap in the face? As a non-mulletteer, I feel that it is partially my duty to deliver the blow, but let's get real. The most I'm ever going to do is write this blog, so that I feel, in some way, I did my duty without actual physical confrontation. So, I propose that towns pass an ordinance to ban the mullet - small towns, in particular, as this seems to be the environment that the mullet thrives. Though this may seem harsh, I feel that a mullet-free town would be more aesthetically-pleasing which in turn would promote new businesses, create more jobs, and encourage economical growth. I'm sure if I thought about it long enough, I could figure out how a mullet-free society could end world hunger too, but that's another blog in itself.