How To School Your Children

The following is an excerpt from a telephone conversation, taking place on the evening of 11/22/10, between one Miss Alanny, hereby referred to as "MA," and her father, hereby referred to as "BP"...

MA:  I got my hair cut.  It's pretty awesome.  You'll think so.

BP:   Oh yeah?  Kellee cut it?

MA:  Yeah, last weekend.  I think we're going to go a little shorter when I'm home, though. 

BP:  Well, I look forward to seeing it.

MA:  I know you like it when I change my hair.*

BP:  Well, when you were dying it all the time a bunch of different colors...

MA:  I've finally embraced my natural color, dad.  I'm never dying my hair again.  

BP:  Good.

MA:  Now that it's all my real hair, people are always like "you have great highlights" and I'm like, "WORD.  God gave me these."

BP:  You don't actually say "word," do you?

MA: Uh.... well... I don't know if I've had that exact conversation, but... HEY, DAD, I MAKE THE RULES.  IF I SAY IT, IT'S COOL TO SAY.

BP:  Word... (laughing... at me, not with me)

MA:  I say it... pretty often... - SO, THE NEW KIDS AND THE BACKSTREET BOYS WERE ON THE AMERICAN MUSIC AWARDS LAST NIGHT, AND IT WAS AMAZING, AND LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT**

Aaaaaaaaaand, SCENE.

Maybe I shouldn't take the opinion of a guy that can't figure out how to open this very blog from my new homepage to heart, but... that guy is my dad and he's actually pretty much a boss in the humor department, so I will accept this schooling.  I guess I'm going to be looking for a new word to use in place of the word "word," which I use up to 15 times a day, easily.  I felt like this was coming, anyways, because I read my mom saying "word" on facebook not long ago, and Momz' adoption of my language is generally my cue toward terminology termination.  That woman is always and forever trying to Single White Female all over my fabulosity.  (That just reminded me of how much my mom hates Kimora Lee Simmons. Ha.)  ANYWAYS - do not fret, as we all know that my vocabulary is as vast as one can get.  I will survive.

* So, my dad is the type of guy who would support me if I told him I was having surgery to have my legs replaced with my arms and vice versa, even if he thought the logic behind the decision to do so was not exactly something he could co-sign.  I didn't grow up with strict parents and a lot of rules and blah blah no son of mine will dance, even if he feels like he needs to cut loose, footloose, blah crap.  Show up with scabies, rabies and some illegitimate babies***, and you probably won't hear all that much about any of it, but do NOT show up as a brunette.  I find it absolutely humorous how much my dad hated my hair when I dyed it red in high school, and then REALLY hated it when I died it dark one year (Kellee - do you remember when I wanted to go Chestnut for Christmas?).  He finds the thought of someone who is blond by nature choosing to be anything other than blond just... outrageous!  Seriously, I could have a gotten a face tattoo the day after I got the dark hair and, upon first seeing my brand new face art, my dad would have said, "your hair is still dark."  I am so amused by this.  Oh, I should probably mention that my dad's own hair is Hulk Hogan blond, and naturally so.  I'm dead serious. I am straight up descendant of Vikings, I believe.

** BP doesn't really understand my boyband-obsessive lifestyle, but still... he'll listen to me talk about it.  He's a good dad.  Plus, I think he enjoys anytime I bring up something that could segue into talking about Lady Gaga.  We love Gaga.   She was entirely robbed of Artist of the Year award at the AMA's, btw.

*** Alright, I would have heard a whole lot of things about babies, but you know I'm a slave to the rhyme, so we're going with it ;)