As soon as I heard about the suicide of 18-year-old Tyler Clementi, a Rutgers college student who was webcast (without consent) while having an intimate encounter with another male, I was saddened and disappointed. Saddened at the loss of a bright young person, saddened for his family and friends. Disappointed in the citizens of this country.

You can read that line again. It’s a bold statement, I realize that, but it is how I feel.

In elementary schools all over the US, students learn that our Declaration of Independence says “all men are created equal.” We learn that, but we don’t live it. My dad didn’t live it when he went to a segregated school. His grandmother didn’t live it when she wasn’t allowed to vote. And today, gay and lesbian couples aren’t living it when they are denied the right to be legally married. (That is just one example, there are many more.)

Stating that there is nothing wrong with being homosexual doesn’t get us very far if our laws don’t say so, too. When you elect the people who will lead your community, your state, your country – I hope you’ll remember that.

“The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”
-John F. Kennedy

(And, as a sidenote, if you’re going to lecture me about what the Bible says, please save your breath. I’ve been there and done that.)

A dear friend of mine got married this past weekend in the small, quiet, town of Manning, South Carolina. Quiet, that is, until her wedding reception began. The outdoor reception reminded me of the one in Father of the Bride. Everything was lovely, the weather was perfect, the food was delicious and the champagne flowed freely. Before we knew it, the wedding party was singing (screaming?) the song Jessie’s Girl and inserting the groom’s name for Jessie. It’s safe to say that a good time was had by all.

I met the bride, Meigs, five years ago. I distinctly remember our first meeting because I didn’t like her very much. Meigs is probably the most direct person I know – and it’s funny to me now that the one thing I didn’t like about her at first is the thing I love most about her now. If you want an honest opinion, you can ask her. (Hell, even if you don’t want an opinion at all…she’ll give it to you.) It may not always be what I want to hear, but it’s always what I need to hear. That is a rarity in friendship, and it’s something that I treasure and love about Meigs.

When I met the groom, Troy, I had the exact opposite reaction. I instantly loved him, and not just because he told me he thought I looked a little like Reese Witherspoon in Walk the Line (Hello, he made a friend for life!). There is just something about Troy that makes you want to give him a big ‘ole hug – you can tell from the get that it’s just his nature to be sweet and caring.

Their relationship has been an inspiration to me. They are living proof that two people can find their soulmate, despite circumstances that might suggest otherwise. I’ve watched them grow as a couple, and I’ve watched my friend become a better version of herself (she was pretty amazing to start with) over the years they have been together. I shed more than a few tears last Saturday – but all tears of joy, of course. This girl that I didn’t like, then loved, lived with, shared many laughs, tears, and memories with got married to the absolute perfect man for her, and he got married to the absolute perfect woman for him.

And they will live happily ever after.

It sort of looks like the city of Augusta birthed a baby girl today. She didn’t. Every year on October 1st, Augusta is decked out in pink for the start of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Pink fountains, pink bows, pink newspaper:

This is the 3rd year that The Augusta Chronicle has printed on pink paper on October 1st. It costs significantly more for them to so, but the nice folks over there decide each year that the benefit trumps the cost. (And, I know you are wondering…yes, a portion of the ad sales go to a breast cancer charity.)

“As we have in years past, The Augusta Chronicle is being printed today on pink paper to help raise awareness of the plight of the estimated hundreds of thousands of people nationwide who are fighting brave battles against breast cancer.” -Augusta Chronicle Editorial Staff

You know what I get a lot of? “That Mandi, she seems so sweet.” It’s a nice compliment, but as you are all well aware of by now…I’m really not that sweet. Don’t get me wrong, I am a nice person (I’m certainly not an asshole or anything) but, come on – let’s keep it real. I won’t be up for sainthood anytime soon.

I’m convinced that the reason people assume I’m “sweet” is because I’m small. Petite does not a sweetheart make. Just look at Joan Rivers. She’s tiny – and she’s a huge b.

Learn this lesson now, folks. Don’t be deceived by a person’s stature. Especially on days like today, where I’m a feisty-firecracker who seriously considered punching someone in the face.

(I decided against it, because I have better manners than that. And because I didn’t want to be arrested. But, I totally punched them in the face in my mind, and I felt much better.)

At least once a week I hear the song “Waterfalls” by TLC on my radio. That’s strange, right? Like what station must I be listening to?

At any rate, every time I hear it, it takes me back to 1995 when I bought the cd single. My friend Erica had a black Isuzu Rodeo and we (along with our BFF, Jason) would ride around and sing that song over and over again. We loved us some TLC, and looking back now – I wonder if my mom thought “Red Light Special” was a bit inappropriate. I’m sure she did, but she was probably trying to choose her battles.

And, in 1995, battle we did. I think “war” might be a better description, actually. She was trying to make me see that every decision I made back then could potentially affect me down the road. I thought that was, well, the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. But guess what? For the most part, she was right. And luckily for me, I was so terrified of my mother’s wrath that there were many, many poor choices I didn’t make that I could have easily made (if she wasn’t such a stalker/lecturer). Don’t get me wrong, I still snuck out of the house a few times (and did some other things that I’ll refrain from mentioning because I’m not sure what the statute of limitations for things you did in high school is) but I didn’t do anything totally stupid. Because I was scared of my mama.

These days, of course, my mom is my best friend. I talk to her multiple times a day, and I rarely go two weeks without seeing her. So, I can’t help but smile when I hear “Waterfalls” on the radio. A song about mothers warning their children not to be reckless…at least my radio has a sense of humor.

Since leaving home for college some years ago, I’ve had my share of roommates as well as my bouts of living solo. Right now, I’m sans a roomie, with the exception of William Wallace, who’s a pretty decent one, except that I have to make his food for him and he never cleans up after himself. (Reminds me of someone else I know, but, let’s not go there.) Living with roommates is fun – there’s always someone to talk to, and you can usually mooch off of their food if you forgot to go to the grocery store. Living alone, however, is fabulous. Sure, I have moments of not being able to reach something (or in my old house, a closet door falling off – you can’t fix a closet door by yourself, trust me on that) and wishing I had someone to lend a helping hand. But, for the most part, the only real negative I can see to living solo is that I might be turning into a perpetual bachelorette.

I have recently realized that I’ve become even more peculiar about where I like “my things” than I already was. Y’all. This-is-not-good. I was pretty damn peculiar before. And, I have also noticed (more now than ever before) that I like to do what I like to do when I like to do it – otherwise known as I’ve become totally selfish. I am, by nature, a person who follows a routine. Living by myself allows me to follow my morning and nightly routines sans interruptions. All of these realizations have me worried that I’m making myself impossible to live with. I have become that person my mom warned me about. “Never go out with someone who has been a bachelor too long. He’ll be set in his ways.”

Yikes. Am I becoming set in my ways? Am I living in a bachelorette pad? (My house isn’t very masculine, now that I think about it. I bet any guy would walk in and say, “This would have to go, and so would this” as he pointed to my lacey white shower curtain and clawfoot tub. And then I’d promptly smack him.) If I had a magic eight ball to shake up and flip over, I believe the answer to these questions would be: It is decidedly so.

I either need to get a roommate, or just toss in the towel and get a few dozen cats.

Girls discussing Sports
-One of my co-workers asked me if I had heard about the baseball player who got stabbed (accidentally) by a broken bat. I had not, so I listened to the detailed story she gave and then said, “That’s terrible. What team was it?” She said, “A blue team.”

-A friend of mine asked me if I knew what all of the acronyms for college football conferences stood for. When I said, “Nope, that’s not something my dad taught me,” she replied, “Mine either. Apparently the only acronym he thought was important to teach me was STD.”

Girls discussing Boys
-I ended up “entertaining” a 12-year-old girl in my office last week. (Her grandfather was here for a meeting, and I felt bad for the kid so I told her she could hang out in my office.) I, of course, started talking about Justin Bieber – because I thought he was popular with the tween girls. Wrong. When I asked her if she was a Bieber fan, she informed me, “I like older guys. Like Chris Brown, who I used to LOVE. (She paused.) Until he slapped Rihanna.”

One of these days I’m going to be a morning person, someone who loves Mondays, someone who is early to things, who exercises on a regular basis, who doesn’t use bad words, who eats healthier, who doesn’t impulse buy things, who washes their car without a drive-through and a debit card, who says “no” more often, who takes more time off.

One of these days.

For this edition of “I Know Cool People” – I’m kind of stretching the “know” part a bit. Apprentice castmate Anand Vasudev is a friend of my friend Anna Beth, but I’m totally claiming him since we’ve been Facebook friends for years now. Facebook friends count as real friends, right? Right.

At any rate, tune into The Apprentice tonight and cheer for Andy! He’s number 13 below (I hope that isn’t a bad omen):

photo credit: Ok! Magazine

yay for:
amazing weather
a call from my mom saying “meet me for dinner and to get our nails done”
eating lunch at home and outside with my doggie
check marks on “to do” lists
seeing my friend carey anne’s baby bump
a new funky and chunky gold necklace
researching austin, texas as long weekend getaway destination
funny blackberry messages from rebekah
pandora radio playing this song and this one, too
crossword puzzle confessions with meigs
wednesday (who doesn’t love hump day?)
knowing that there’s an oprah episode waiting on me at home (bless you, dvr.)
Ben, who accepts & supports my busy work and volunteer schedules
seeing pumpkins at the grocery store (i literally squealed with delight.)