Why the name bubble head? It was a nickname that my Grampa, a.k.a. Fast Frankie, gave me. He is my hero. He lived a life with loads of humor and world-class chocolate coladas. And the man could tell a great story. Read more about him in this blog.
I am a lover of coffee, a drinker of beer, an over-protective mom, a full-time student, a part-time business owner and massage therapist, and a daily dog walker. For some reason I love to write. It’s much safer than talking. If I lose my train of thought, none of you know because I can EDIT! I wish I could edit my mouth before I speak sometimes, but I have not figured that out yet. When I do, watch out because I’ll be talking your ear off.
I’ve been called “perky” on more than one occasion. I don’t like it, but it’s better than the alternative. People also always assume that I’m from the midwest. Apparently, I look like the perfect stereotype of a corn farmer’s daughter. I like to take my perky smile, and my perky voice and tell them that I am from Saudi Arabia, because it rocks their perceptions. No. I’m not Arab. But for a minute you can see their minds thinking “perhaps she IS Arab. I mean. Her hair is blonde, her eyes are blue, but genetics can be slippery sometimes.” (Of course, in reality, most people are like “Saudi Arabia? Is that in Texas somewhere?”) Then they inevitably ask me to speak Arabic (the few who realize I am not, in fact, from Texas), and all I can say is “small, car, window, dog, go-fuck-yourself, slow down,” and “no.” These phrases can sometimes be useful, especially when escaping from a dog through a small car window. The expletive would be for the dog, after telling it to slow down.