bright things

QotD: Crazy Sexy Cool

nobody@vox.com(Megan) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 15:16:43 -0700

What three qualities do you look for in a partner?
Submitted by Tenor Bob

I want Funny.

I want to laugh till my belly hurts and I'm holding my sides and I want to do it with someone I'm crazy about. The funnier someone is to me, the more attractive they get. On the flip side, you could be Brad Pitt, but un-funny, and I wouldn't find you attractive in the least.

I want Kind.

I want kindness that is there when people aren't looking, that softness that isn't a weakness but a strength, the kind of compassion that kids always sense and flock to.

I want Brave.

So many things can be accomplished, overcame, pushed aside, lived through, if you just have the courage to face them. I want someone that isn't afraid to show up for the unknown. I want to know that his hand is mine to hold, or be held by, even when things are scary. That doesn't mean he can't be scared too. Bravery isn't the absence of fear, just the ability to keep standing in the face of it.

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QotD: You Know What Happens When You Assume, Right?

nobody@vox.com(Megan) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 12:29:35 -0700

What is the quickest false assumption people make about you?
Submitted by JJ.

A lot of people assume I have a quick temper because I have red hair. It takes quite a bit to actually make me angry, and it takes way too much energy to sustain real anger.

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QotD: Thanks But No Thanks

nobody@vox.com(Megan) — Sun, 11 Mar 2007 17:04:08 -0700

How do you handle phone calls from telemarketers?

That's a silly question.

I don't handle them at all. I have caller ID, so I don't answer if I know it's not a person calling, and at work, I tell them it's a business, or that we're not interested, and that's it.

I wonder why I used to get so worked up about them...

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QotD: Rubbing Elbows

nobody@vox.com(Megan) — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 23:13:42 -0800

Have you ever met any celebrities? Any interesting stories?
Submitted by Tasha.

Joe and I were in line at McDonald's inside the MGM Grand hotel in Las Vegas. Just minding our own bidness. When a guy came up, followed by his large, black, body guard. I knew he was one of the Backstreet Boys, but I had no idea which one. I just looked at him, thought, "Wow, he's just a little guy." I knew that Joe had no idea who he was. Then, the Backstreet Boy started chatting up my husband. And before I could say, "Hey, wait a minute," Joe was letting him cut in front of us. What the heck! I was so mad. I mean, sure, he had a "Celebrity" golf tournament for charity to go to, but we had stuff to do too!

I was standing there, trying to smile politely, and I happened to look behind him, and saw a large group of thirteen-year-old girls running toward him, making surprisingly little noise. I was about to smile in anticipation of him getting rushed, and me and Joe getting our spot in line back, when suddenly, the bodyguard stepped between the Backstreet Boy and the mob of teenage girls, and crossed his arms and said, "Not. Today. Girls."

They instantly stopped their headlong rush into the Backstreet Boy, slumped their shoulders and put on their pouty faces en masse, and slunk away. The most interesting thing I've ever seen.

And that's my one brush with celebrity.

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