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Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
"Once they begin to move, no more news comes out of that area." - War of the Worlds
....which pretty much covers my status until after October 4th...when I will be moved into my new house and will have time to converse again with the Internet....
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Accentuate the Positive
So I know I have been absent lately, but I am taking an expository writing class this semester that is taking all of my creative juices. This is something I wrote for that class....what do you think?
I grew up in Southeast Texas, close enough to the Louisiana border to smell the gumbo and to spend my formative years speaking a smattering of broken English, Spanish, and a few choice French phrases. In my hometown of Woodville, TX, we celebrated Cinco de Mayo every May, yelled “Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez” (Let the good times roll!) before all hell broke loose on Saturday nights, and sat—without a touch of irony—in a Baptist pew on Sunday mornings with cowboy boots on our feet. My upbringing was a blend of very distinct cultures. Because of these cultures, you can only imagine the mix of accents and idioms that came out of my mouth every time I opened it.
The funny thing about all of this is that I had no idea that I sounded different than anyone else. I was in the middle of a community where everyone sounded just like me. My best friend growing up had a father much like my own, who spoke in a constant string of Texan idioms. My favorite has always been the one we heard most often. Anytime we asked to do something to which he had already repeatedly told us “no”, he would turn to us and say, “Girls, we done stomped them taters.” My own father hated nothing more than my brother and I trying to pull the wool over his eyes. He would frustratingly remind us that he “didn’t fall off the turnip truck last night.” So, as dad would say, I “came by it honest.”
Of course, the way I spoke was only the frame around the picture of my cultural identity. I was the Fair Queen in my junior year of high school. My duties included helping the following year’s auction of the animals at the fair, getting my pictures taken with all the stars of the show-chickens, cows, and pigs-and announcing all the winners of the various competitions. My rival at the time, knowing I would have to announce her pig if she won, named it Amy Sue just so I would have to say, “And this year’s Grand Champion hog...Amy Sue!” Who says Southerners are slow?
Basically, I lived the life that is so commonly associated with the accent-the good parts anyway. However, during my first semester at UT, only three classes into a linguistics course, my professor asked me to stay after class and speak into a recorder. She told me that I had the “worst Texas accent” she had ever heard, and so she set out to determine its origin. That's right; I had my very own Pygmalion moment. I couldn’t understand why, at a university in the heart of Texas, attention was being focused on me for having a Texas accent. And it wasn’t just that professor. Most of my new friends in Austin from all over the country, loved to tease Amy Sue, the girl with two names and the accent to match.
“Professor Higgins” was the beginning of the end for me. I knew that I wanted to be a doctor some day, and I set out to lose the accent so that as an MD, I would never walk into a room and say, "Aight what we gonna do today is, take this here needle and poke ya in da behind. So drop yer draws now." Because honestly, there were doctors in my home town that had done just that, many times. In Woodville, this works, but not if I want to practice medicine anywhere else.
Over the next few years, I practiced distinguishing between words that had never sounded different coming from my mouth. “Ten” was no longer a metal, “pens” were never used for sewing, and I stripped the word “y’all” from my vocabulary. Diction became my new religion. Crooked things were no longer referred to as wompajawed, and I ceased getting “drunk as Cooter Brown”—well I ceased calling it that anyway. I almost completely turned away from the cultures that had defined my identity for eighteen years. What can I say? At eighteen, and in a university with a freshman class three times the size of my hometown, I was easily swayed from my true identity.
I now know what my true identity is, because whenever my guard is down—either from being back home, really tired, or drunk as…well, you get it—my accent and all that it entails, comes streaming out of my mouth and gives me away. I discovered during my hiatus from myself, a few life-changing truths. First, denying yourself is very exhausting, so one way or another, our true colors tend to show. And second, that the stereotypes I was so desperately trying to avoid in myself still drew me to others who filled those stereotypes in my eyes (or more accurately, ears).
I have given up trying to deny my heritage, and therefore, no longer feel the need to hide the accent. The more I meet people with different stories to tell about how they grew up, the prouder I am of my own story. To the rest of the world, people who speak like I spoke, are slow-witted rednecks. But, the veterinarian who shows up at his daughter’s basketball games smelling of…well…shit, and tells his daughter, “Don’t be shy darlin’, daddy just smells like money,” probably attended more of her games that year than the investment banker in some big city who’s perfectly-pressed suit only ever smells of designer cologne.
My own father kicks off his shoes wherever we are because he hates the feel of them on his feet, after a childhood of only having uncomfortable hand-me-downs. I was in high school when he and my mother bought their first home. He hadn’t bought himself a new car until after they bought the house. Yet, when I graduated high school, I drove off to college in a sporty little car right off the lot, because my dad worked to provide things for his family that he himself had never known.
Sure, they are simple people, with simple pleasures. My dad’s most prized possession is his boat he named Knot @ Work, and he and my mom spend as many sunny days possible out on the lake by their house. Summer nights are spent with friends grilling or having a crawfish boil and fish fry. I guess that makes them come across as slow, or lazy, but these same people rally when something goes wrong. When I was in junior high, my dad was in a hunting accident, and the whole town raised money to help us out. I still remember how one of my brother’s friends, who was still in elementary school, sold eight hundred dollars worth of tickets to a Spaghetti Dinner that the local Lion’s Club hosted to raise funds for our family.
Are these the people I am so scared to be mistaken for? Sure, my mom has actually asked me to “run out and shoot another squirrel for the pot” (and I have done it), but she and my dad have also taught me how to sew, knit, cook award-winning meals (without a single squirrel), and change the oil in my car.
Knowing my love and respect for these people, it is truly no wonder that even in this tiny blue dot in my red state, I found and moved in with a friend who at least once a week comes into my room to ask me, “Jeet yet?” To which I reply, “Naw, ju?”
“Naw. Yawnto?” he asks.
“Aight,” I mumble, “whatcha want?”
He’ll stare at the ceiling for a minute as though he is thinking, but the answer is always the same. “How bout sumya fried chicken with a nice scald on it.”
I strived to separate myself from the negative side of the stereotype commonly associated with my accent. The only way I knew how to do that, was to kick off the accent like a pair of well-worn boots. Those boots aren’t a part of my everyday attire anymore because they don’t fit like they used to. However, from time to time, they find their way out of the back of the closet and onto my feet. So, whether I still sound like someone from Woodville or not, I whole-heartedly claim them as my people, and I pray that I never again forget why. I mean, y’all couldn’t beat this life with a stick!
I grew up in Southeast Texas, close enough to the Louisiana border to smell the gumbo and to spend my formative years speaking a smattering of broken English, Spanish, and a few choice French phrases. In my hometown of Woodville, TX, we celebrated Cinco de Mayo every May, yelled “Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez” (Let the good times roll!) before all hell broke loose on Saturday nights, and sat—without a touch of irony—in a Baptist pew on Sunday mornings with cowboy boots on our feet. My upbringing was a blend of very distinct cultures. Because of these cultures, you can only imagine the mix of accents and idioms that came out of my mouth every time I opened it.
The funny thing about all of this is that I had no idea that I sounded different than anyone else. I was in the middle of a community where everyone sounded just like me. My best friend growing up had a father much like my own, who spoke in a constant string of Texan idioms. My favorite has always been the one we heard most often. Anytime we asked to do something to which he had already repeatedly told us “no”, he would turn to us and say, “Girls, we done stomped them taters.” My own father hated nothing more than my brother and I trying to pull the wool over his eyes. He would frustratingly remind us that he “didn’t fall off the turnip truck last night.” So, as dad would say, I “came by it honest.”
Of course, the way I spoke was only the frame around the picture of my cultural identity. I was the Fair Queen in my junior year of high school. My duties included helping the following year’s auction of the animals at the fair, getting my pictures taken with all the stars of the show-chickens, cows, and pigs-and announcing all the winners of the various competitions. My rival at the time, knowing I would have to announce her pig if she won, named it Amy Sue just so I would have to say, “And this year’s Grand Champion hog...Amy Sue!” Who says Southerners are slow?
Basically, I lived the life that is so commonly associated with the accent-the good parts anyway. However, during my first semester at UT, only three classes into a linguistics course, my professor asked me to stay after class and speak into a recorder. She told me that I had the “worst Texas accent” she had ever heard, and so she set out to determine its origin. That's right; I had my very own Pygmalion moment. I couldn’t understand why, at a university in the heart of Texas, attention was being focused on me for having a Texas accent. And it wasn’t just that professor. Most of my new friends in Austin from all over the country, loved to tease Amy Sue, the girl with two names and the accent to match.
“Professor Higgins” was the beginning of the end for me. I knew that I wanted to be a doctor some day, and I set out to lose the accent so that as an MD, I would never walk into a room and say, "Aight what we gonna do today is, take this here needle and poke ya in da behind. So drop yer draws now." Because honestly, there were doctors in my home town that had done just that, many times. In Woodville, this works, but not if I want to practice medicine anywhere else.
Over the next few years, I practiced distinguishing between words that had never sounded different coming from my mouth. “Ten” was no longer a metal, “pens” were never used for sewing, and I stripped the word “y’all” from my vocabulary. Diction became my new religion. Crooked things were no longer referred to as wompajawed, and I ceased getting “drunk as Cooter Brown”—well I ceased calling it that anyway. I almost completely turned away from the cultures that had defined my identity for eighteen years. What can I say? At eighteen, and in a university with a freshman class three times the size of my hometown, I was easily swayed from my true identity.
I now know what my true identity is, because whenever my guard is down—either from being back home, really tired, or drunk as…well, you get it—my accent and all that it entails, comes streaming out of my mouth and gives me away. I discovered during my hiatus from myself, a few life-changing truths. First, denying yourself is very exhausting, so one way or another, our true colors tend to show. And second, that the stereotypes I was so desperately trying to avoid in myself still drew me to others who filled those stereotypes in my eyes (or more accurately, ears).
I have given up trying to deny my heritage, and therefore, no longer feel the need to hide the accent. The more I meet people with different stories to tell about how they grew up, the prouder I am of my own story. To the rest of the world, people who speak like I spoke, are slow-witted rednecks. But, the veterinarian who shows up at his daughter’s basketball games smelling of…well…shit, and tells his daughter, “Don’t be shy darlin’, daddy just smells like money,” probably attended more of her games that year than the investment banker in some big city who’s perfectly-pressed suit only ever smells of designer cologne.
My own father kicks off his shoes wherever we are because he hates the feel of them on his feet, after a childhood of only having uncomfortable hand-me-downs. I was in high school when he and my mother bought their first home. He hadn’t bought himself a new car until after they bought the house. Yet, when I graduated high school, I drove off to college in a sporty little car right off the lot, because my dad worked to provide things for his family that he himself had never known.
Sure, they are simple people, with simple pleasures. My dad’s most prized possession is his boat he named Knot @ Work, and he and my mom spend as many sunny days possible out on the lake by their house. Summer nights are spent with friends grilling or having a crawfish boil and fish fry. I guess that makes them come across as slow, or lazy, but these same people rally when something goes wrong. When I was in junior high, my dad was in a hunting accident, and the whole town raised money to help us out. I still remember how one of my brother’s friends, who was still in elementary school, sold eight hundred dollars worth of tickets to a Spaghetti Dinner that the local Lion’s Club hosted to raise funds for our family.
Are these the people I am so scared to be mistaken for? Sure, my mom has actually asked me to “run out and shoot another squirrel for the pot” (and I have done it), but she and my dad have also taught me how to sew, knit, cook award-winning meals (without a single squirrel), and change the oil in my car.
Knowing my love and respect for these people, it is truly no wonder that even in this tiny blue dot in my red state, I found and moved in with a friend who at least once a week comes into my room to ask me, “Jeet yet?” To which I reply, “Naw, ju?”
“Naw. Yawnto?” he asks.
“Aight,” I mumble, “whatcha want?”
He’ll stare at the ceiling for a minute as though he is thinking, but the answer is always the same. “How bout sumya fried chicken with a nice scald on it.”
I strived to separate myself from the negative side of the stereotype commonly associated with my accent. The only way I knew how to do that, was to kick off the accent like a pair of well-worn boots. Those boots aren’t a part of my everyday attire anymore because they don’t fit like they used to. However, from time to time, they find their way out of the back of the closet and onto my feet. So, whether I still sound like someone from Woodville or not, I whole-heartedly claim them as my people, and I pray that I never again forget why. I mean, y’all couldn’t beat this life with a stick!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
"All the Whos down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot, but the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did not." - How The Grinch Stole Christmas
Tis the Season....
I am even more into the Holidays than normal this year....and I LOVE Christmas!
I just got back from watching a Living Nativity Scene and Christmas Story at the Church by where I work....it was beautiful....
We sat in the outdoor amphitheater under the stars and were reminded of the true reason we celebrate this time of year....I was huddled with life-long friends enjoying hot Chai tea (which, lets face it tastes like Christmas in a cup), singing carols that bring back memories of previous Christmases and portend of Christmases to come....
Now I am curled up on the couch in my new Christmas PJ's, watching Christmas movies, with the puppies curled up on me feet and next to me, and the room glowing with the lights from the Christmas tree....
Being this happy seems almost decadent....but I am willing to risk it....
I am even more into the Holidays than normal this year....and I LOVE Christmas!
I just got back from watching a Living Nativity Scene and Christmas Story at the Church by where I work....it was beautiful....
We sat in the outdoor amphitheater under the stars and were reminded of the true reason we celebrate this time of year....I was huddled with life-long friends enjoying hot Chai tea (which, lets face it tastes like Christmas in a cup), singing carols that bring back memories of previous Christmases and portend of Christmases to come....
Now I am curled up on the couch in my new Christmas PJ's, watching Christmas movies, with the puppies curled up on me feet and next to me, and the room glowing with the lights from the Christmas tree....
Being this happy seems almost decadent....but I am willing to risk it....
Monday, July 28, 2008
"No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater...than central air." - Dogma
Today I thought all of my sins had caught up with me...
Sunday mornings in my house are pretty much the same every week...no one works, and no one stirs before eleven...except the dogs of course.
They usually wake early and demand to be let out sometime around or before 8. At which point I drag myself out of bed, stumble to the back door, let them out, and stumble back to my room....
At this point I am forced to turn on the high powered, industrial sized, incredibly LOUD fan Logan left behind so the the constant barks of my dogs to not keep me awake.
Because on Sundays....oh my do they bark!
Ok, confession time! My dogs are racists. Chloe and Rasta will bark like banshees if a black person (excuse me...African American) is around. I have NO idea why....but they do. Also, Chloe HATES people in hats. She will bark and bark till you take it off....
Anyway...back to my Sunday morning....
We live across from a church...now I hesitate to call it a black church....but lets face it....it is, as only black people attend this church. Also, all the little old ladies at this church are VERY fond of Sunday hats. You see where this is going....
Anyway, so every Sunday morning as the parishioners arrive, my dogs go NUTS!!!! (thus the fan) However, this morning...crickets...NOTHING....
I didn't notice at first, but as I turned off the fan later that morning.....I realized the silence was deafening.
I went to the window to look across the street and realized...NO ONE WAS THERE...not a single car or anything. That's when it hit me...the rapture had come...and I had been left behind....
"SHIT!" I yelled....and then realized maybe that reaction could be indicative as to WHY I was left behind....but still....SHIT!
So I called my parents house immediately....and like any good God-fearing Christian home at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning....no one answered....or were they just gone....
Two hours later my phone rings....it's my parent's house....FINALLY!
"Dad?" I ask.
"Yeah!" he said...."How'd you know it was me? Usually your mom calls."
"Well Dad," I say, "If the rapture had happened and someone from that house is calling me.....well, lets just say I am pretty sure Mom will be missed!"
He didn't get it....and that is probably best!
Sunday mornings in my house are pretty much the same every week...no one works, and no one stirs before eleven...except the dogs of course.
They usually wake early and demand to be let out sometime around or before 8. At which point I drag myself out of bed, stumble to the back door, let them out, and stumble back to my room....
At this point I am forced to turn on the high powered, industrial sized, incredibly LOUD fan Logan left behind so the the constant barks of my dogs to not keep me awake.
Because on Sundays....oh my do they bark!
Ok, confession time! My dogs are racists. Chloe and Rasta will bark like banshees if a black person (excuse me...African American) is around. I have NO idea why....but they do. Also, Chloe HATES people in hats. She will bark and bark till you take it off....
Anyway...back to my Sunday morning....
We live across from a church...now I hesitate to call it a black church....but lets face it....it is, as only black people attend this church. Also, all the little old ladies at this church are VERY fond of Sunday hats. You see where this is going....
Anyway, so every Sunday morning as the parishioners arrive, my dogs go NUTS!!!! (thus the fan) However, this morning...crickets...NOTHING....
I didn't notice at first, but as I turned off the fan later that morning.....I realized the silence was deafening.
I went to the window to look across the street and realized...NO ONE WAS THERE...not a single car or anything. That's when it hit me...the rapture had come...and I had been left behind....
"SHIT!" I yelled....and then realized maybe that reaction could be indicative as to WHY I was left behind....but still....SHIT!
So I called my parents house immediately....and like any good God-fearing Christian home at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning....no one answered....or were they just gone....
Two hours later my phone rings....it's my parent's house....FINALLY!
"Dad?" I ask.
"Yeah!" he said...."How'd you know it was me? Usually your mom calls."
"Well Dad," I say, "If the rapture had happened and someone from that house is calling me.....well, lets just say I am pretty sure Mom will be missed!"
He didn't get it....and that is probably best!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
"I'm your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate." - Spaceballs
I SWORE I would not live in a house with three girls ever again......especially not a house with three girls and three dogs....been there, done that....it SUCKED!
However, albeit temporarily, I once again find myself in a seemingly similar situation....but this time...
Me and Sarah....technically she is the girlfriend of my roommate Tim who is in Alaska for the summer....but she is living in his room for the time being....with her dog Spencer.
When you get REALLY bored one sunny summer day....and the estrogen is flowing....in our house, the wigs fly.....
Me channeling Betty Boop.....
Whoa...black hair really brings out my darker side....
Me "Boop-Oop-A-Doop"-in....with Brin and her LONG brown hair piece (it's there...trust me)....she is my girl roommate that is permanent (along with the boys in Alaska).
My black wig....Brin's brown hair piece....and Sarah's Blond wig!
Vogue!
Then the dogs got in on the fun....
Chloe as Betty....
Rasta as Veronica....
This time around....we are having MUCH more fun!
However, albeit temporarily, I once again find myself in a seemingly similar situation....but this time...
Me and Sarah....technically she is the girlfriend of my roommate Tim who is in Alaska for the summer....but she is living in his room for the time being....with her dog Spencer.
When you get REALLY bored one sunny summer day....and the estrogen is flowing....in our house, the wigs fly.....
Me channeling Betty Boop.....
Whoa...black hair really brings out my darker side....
Me "Boop-Oop-A-Doop"-in....with Brin and her LONG brown hair piece (it's there...trust me)....she is my girl roommate that is permanent (along with the boys in Alaska).
My black wig....Brin's brown hair piece....and Sarah's Blond wig!
Vogue!
Then the dogs got in on the fun....
Chloe as Betty....
Rasta as Veronica....
This time around....we are having MUCH more fun!
Monday, May 19, 2008
"He's a dirty trashcan full of poop." - Surf's Up
I don't know how many of you notice, but for a while now, the title of all my blogs are a quote from a movie pertaining to subject of the blog....today I had FAR too many to choose from....so here they are.....
"It's me you old poop!" - On Golden Pond
"Wanna go get a grape soda? Not with a man covered in pig poop. No, sir, Ah don't!" - Big Business
"I won't eat dog poop!" - 3 Ninjas
"I'm the party pooper." - Kindergarten Cop
"I like poop!" - The Big Lebowski
"I ain't pooping in that thing I got my standards." - Look Who's Talking Too
"Every party has a pooper that's why we invited you...party pooper George BAAAANKS." - Father of the Bride Part II
"He called the shit "poop"." - Billy Madison
and last one....even though I have MANY more....
"When you're sliding into home and your pants are full of foam, Diarrhea - " - Parenthood
now for the blog........
Our upstairs toilet is not working....it hasn't for about a week....it won't drain....someone used it...and I mean USED it....and it decided at that point to stop working......however, when the boys left for Alaska, they managed to hide the information for the landlord.
So for the past week, we have been unable to get a plumber out and our whole upstairs smells like shit!
It is sooooo gross....thank GOD we have the downstairs bathroom....(thanks Logan).....I mean ewww....
Anyway...the plumber comes tomorrow :)
I know this is not uproariously funny...I really just needed an excuse for all the poop quotes!
"It's me you old poop!" - On Golden Pond
"Wanna go get a grape soda? Not with a man covered in pig poop. No, sir, Ah don't!" - Big Business
"I won't eat dog poop!" - 3 Ninjas
"I'm the party pooper." - Kindergarten Cop
"I like poop!" - The Big Lebowski
"I ain't pooping in that thing I got my standards." - Look Who's Talking Too
"Every party has a pooper that's why we invited you...party pooper George BAAAANKS." - Father of the Bride Part II
"He called the shit "poop"." - Billy Madison
and last one....even though I have MANY more....
"When you're sliding into home and your pants are full of foam, Diarrhea - " - Parenthood
now for the blog........
Our upstairs toilet is not working....it hasn't for about a week....it won't drain....someone used it...and I mean USED it....and it decided at that point to stop working......however, when the boys left for Alaska, they managed to hide the information for the landlord.
So for the past week, we have been unable to get a plumber out and our whole upstairs smells like shit!
It is sooooo gross....thank GOD we have the downstairs bathroom....(thanks Logan).....I mean ewww....
Anyway...the plumber comes tomorrow :)
I know this is not uproariously funny...I really just needed an excuse for all the poop quotes!
Monday, April 7, 2008
"That's no dog....that's family." - White Chicks
Say hello to my little friend.....all of them :)
Chloe was VERY resistant of Rasta in the beginning....but now they are truly kindred spirits.....
CHILLIN....
WHAAAAAAAT????
Logan and Chloe.....they like each other too.....
Chloe was VERY resistant of Rasta in the beginning....but now they are truly kindred spirits.....
CHILLIN....
WHAAAAAAAT????
Logan and Chloe.....they like each other too.....
Monday, February 4, 2008
I was luggin boxes at Bargain City, moron!
A few weeks ago my roommate decided to have a garage sale. It was 2 in the afternoon on a week day, but this did not deter her.....yeah....I know.....
So she set about gathering boxes of random crap that never got unpacked when we moved to this house. When she was done gathering, she pulled it all out into the yard, constructed a sign from cardboard, and waited........
And waited.....
And waited......nothing......
No one ever came (shocker!).....mind you I am inside this whole time watching out the window......laughing my a*s off.....it was like Jerry Springer....stupid, but too entertaining to not watch.
So after a few hours she packed it all back up and hauled it back inside.....well....most of it....
She had about six boxes of crap.....five of them made it back inside....one of them just made it to the porch.
IT IS STILL THERE!!!!
I know that sounds like an exaggeration...but look....
And I thought I had just moved FROM the ghetto.....hmmmmmm....
The saddest (or funniest) part of all of this is that the box is blocking the door.....
EVERYDAY, we all come home and maneuver around the box to get in....and out.....and in......
Even my two old roommates who just moved out, MOVED AROUND THE BOX! We are talking large pieces of furniture.....evidently moving the box was just too much......
So, I came home today and decided to move the box.....I thought I was being the smart, proactive one among us.....
This the the crap that ended up all over the front porch after the bottom gave out the second I lifted......
Yeah....I am the smart one......
So she set about gathering boxes of random crap that never got unpacked when we moved to this house. When she was done gathering, she pulled it all out into the yard, constructed a sign from cardboard, and waited........
And waited.....
And waited......nothing......
No one ever came (shocker!).....mind you I am inside this whole time watching out the window......laughing my a*s off.....it was like Jerry Springer....stupid, but too entertaining to not watch.
So after a few hours she packed it all back up and hauled it back inside.....well....most of it....
She had about six boxes of crap.....five of them made it back inside....one of them just made it to the porch.
IT IS STILL THERE!!!!
I know that sounds like an exaggeration...but look....
And I thought I had just moved FROM the ghetto.....hmmmmmm....
The saddest (or funniest) part of all of this is that the box is blocking the door.....
EVERYDAY, we all come home and maneuver around the box to get in....and out.....and in......
Even my two old roommates who just moved out, MOVED AROUND THE BOX! We are talking large pieces of furniture.....evidently moving the box was just too much......
So, I came home today and decided to move the box.....I thought I was being the smart, proactive one among us.....
This the the crap that ended up all over the front porch after the bottom gave out the second I lifted......
Yeah....I am the smart one......
Friday, January 4, 2008
Yes. Doug Can Read.
Well guys, I am finally moved into my new place.....
Although I use most of those words very loosely.
Take the word my for example....technically, my stuff lives in this new house, but I do not. I had to be out of my apartment by Dec. 24 (which I made...by the skin of my teeth....and more help from Mindy than she EVER should have agreed to....LOVE YOU MINDY!!!!) Anyway, the house is a four bedroom....one of the guys and the girl that currently live there are staying and will be my new roomies! However, two of the guys that live there are on a waiting list for a condo downtown......for those of you that are mathematically inclined and just did that math in your head (mom), know that makes five people and four bedrooms.....that also means that there are three sofas, two coffee tables, two end tables, a papasan chair, a book shelf, two tv's with their own tv stands, and a huge fish tank IN THE LIVING ROOM ALONE.
Lets just say chaos reigns.....or for you scientific dorks like me....this reaction has a positive entropy.
Anyway so now I am bouncing back and forth between the new house and Mindy's....but that is soooooooooo not even the point of this blog.....
When I was packing to move, Mindy put her foot down....just like my mom did the move before this about the number of books I own......
Here is the thing......it is against my religion to throw away a book.....and I know I read a TON of ratty romance novels....but hey.....I love them! I know I could lug them down to Half-Price Books and sell them back, but like I said "ratty romance novels".....they don't exactly fetch a pretty penny.
TOTALLY NOT worth the effort! So they sit on my bookshelf....and in my car...and backpack....and side tables.....and random bathroom drawers....once even in my freezer (no idea)....
Well Mindy and I..........ok so mainly Mindy........decided that the ones that I don't re-read have to go, and since we are making a Goodwill run anyway, that is where they are headed.
Seven Hefty bags later......
Yes! I said SEVEN.....You know that moment when an alcoholic decides that they do NOT have a drinking problem but just to prove it to everyone, they go through their house and start pouring out bottles. When all is said and done, there are bottles covering both the counter and the dining room table....well, it's kinda like that!
There was Janet Evanovich, Jude Deveroux, Jennifer Cruise and Sandra Brown all strewn about in all their fabulous glory.
That's when I knew.......My name is Amy.....and I have a reading problem!
Although I use most of those words very loosely.
Take the word my for example....technically, my stuff lives in this new house, but I do not. I had to be out of my apartment by Dec. 24 (which I made...by the skin of my teeth....and more help from Mindy than she EVER should have agreed to....LOVE YOU MINDY!!!!) Anyway, the house is a four bedroom....one of the guys and the girl that currently live there are staying and will be my new roomies! However, two of the guys that live there are on a waiting list for a condo downtown......for those of you that are mathematically inclined and just did that math in your head (mom), know that makes five people and four bedrooms.....that also means that there are three sofas, two coffee tables, two end tables, a papasan chair, a book shelf, two tv's with their own tv stands, and a huge fish tank IN THE LIVING ROOM ALONE.
Lets just say chaos reigns.....or for you scientific dorks like me....this reaction has a positive entropy.
Anyway so now I am bouncing back and forth between the new house and Mindy's....but that is soooooooooo not even the point of this blog.....
When I was packing to move, Mindy put her foot down....just like my mom did the move before this about the number of books I own......
Here is the thing......it is against my religion to throw away a book.....and I know I read a TON of ratty romance novels....but hey.....I love them! I know I could lug them down to Half-Price Books and sell them back, but like I said "ratty romance novels".....they don't exactly fetch a pretty penny.
TOTALLY NOT worth the effort! So they sit on my bookshelf....and in my car...and backpack....and side tables.....and random bathroom drawers....once even in my freezer (no idea)....
Well Mindy and I..........ok so mainly Mindy........decided that the ones that I don't re-read have to go, and since we are making a Goodwill run anyway, that is where they are headed.
Seven Hefty bags later......
Yes! I said SEVEN.....You know that moment when an alcoholic decides that they do NOT have a drinking problem but just to prove it to everyone, they go through their house and start pouring out bottles. When all is said and done, there are bottles covering both the counter and the dining room table....well, it's kinda like that!
There was Janet Evanovich, Jude Deveroux, Jennifer Cruise and Sandra Brown all strewn about in all their fabulous glory.
That's when I knew.......My name is Amy.....and I have a reading problem!
Friday, November 9, 2007
Mooooovin' on Up....to the East Side.....
Yesssssssss......I am moooovin'!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, so I HATE moving, but you just don't understand.....well maybe you do.....have you read Nightmare on Pleasant Valley Drive? My apartment complex is SUPER scary! Every time I have to park farther than right in front of my apartment when I come home late at night, I call my closest guy friend (I meant in proximity, but the other meaning is true as well) Logan to talk to me on the walk to my door.
What can he do if something happens and he is on the phone and not there is person......
Well, I don't know..... I guess maybe hang up and call the cops....
Well, yeah I guess a girl COULD do that just as easily....
Geez....so evidently I am a little sexist....so sue me!
Anyway....the dust has cleared and the survivors are burying their dead....(wow....that was morbid even for me....) but an agreement has been reached with my apartment complex and I get to leave without owing them my first born child.
However, that means:
1) I actually have to move....which I ABHOR!
and.....
2) I have to find a place!
I was super excited about getting to live alone after my last roommate debacle (not you Lindsay...you are awesome), but now that the scars have healed some, I am fine with the idea of a roommate. Plus, I have learned that living alone does not actually mean that I am ever alone.....
Sooooooo....wish me luck as I weed through the lovable freaks and scary oddballs that inhabit my fair city to hopefully find someone to share a space with......
Ok, so I HATE moving, but you just don't understand.....well maybe you do.....have you read Nightmare on Pleasant Valley Drive? My apartment complex is SUPER scary! Every time I have to park farther than right in front of my apartment when I come home late at night, I call my closest guy friend (I meant in proximity, but the other meaning is true as well) Logan to talk to me on the walk to my door.
What can he do if something happens and he is on the phone and not there is person......
Well, I don't know..... I guess maybe hang up and call the cops....
Well, yeah I guess a girl COULD do that just as easily....
Geez....so evidently I am a little sexist....so sue me!
Anyway....the dust has cleared and the survivors are burying their dead....(wow....that was morbid even for me....) but an agreement has been reached with my apartment complex and I get to leave without owing them my first born child.
However, that means:
1) I actually have to move....which I ABHOR!
and.....
2) I have to find a place!
I was super excited about getting to live alone after my last roommate debacle (not you Lindsay...you are awesome), but now that the scars have healed some, I am fine with the idea of a roommate. Plus, I have learned that living alone does not actually mean that I am ever alone.....
Sooooooo....wish me luck as I weed through the lovable freaks and scary oddballs that inhabit my fair city to hopefully find someone to share a space with......
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Mellow Yellow
Today has made me mad from the get go.....but I refuse to even get into it....all I have been doing lately is feeling sorry for myself....even I am getting tired of it....so I am sure you guys are full to here (you can't see me right now but I put my hand up to the top of my head).
Maybe it didn't help that yesterday began and ended on such a high note.
I started my new job yesterday. It is just a typical job, doing typical stuff, but I do NOT have to work nights and weekends anymore, I do NOT get cussed out every other call, and I work in a yellow room.
I know that may not seem like much to you, but to me, it is awesome. Most offices are a lovely Institutional White, Brain numbing Beige, or (my personal favorite) Sky Blue (you were expecting another made-up paint name weren't you....well, I gotta keep you on your toes). Guys, painting the walls Sky Blue does not make me think I am outside....it just makes me wish I were outside all the more.
My new office is BRIGHT yellow, and we don't sit in cubes. We sit facing OPEN windows that lead out into a yard that little girls play in at various times of the day! It's like a room full of happiness! (Ok, so there is one little, tiny, minuscule downside.....these little girls have a pet...skunk....so sometimes the whole open window thing is a little disturbing....but I am trying to focus on the positive here! Geez.... you are so negative.)
Anyway, so I went to work for a while in my lovely yellow room, then my friend Logan called....
he had a craving for homemade burgers and fries. So he called to invite me to eat them with him.
Woo Hoo!
I do love a good burger (I know it is NOT conducive to the whole Christy Brinkley physique I am working towards....but hey it was HOMEMADE burgers and fries....give a girl a break!). But, right after I get the invite for dinner, I get a call back telling me he forgot the gas hadn't been tuned on in their house yet (they just moved into a new house this weekend). So guess what.....he still wants burgers....but can he cook them at my house?
Are you kidding me.....you want to cook me dinner and I don't even have to go anywhere? Oh heck yeah!
While he was cooking dinner, I was registering for the Spring semester.....I am signed up for 8 hours of grueling classes (Organic Chemistry, Biology II and BIO Lab), my last 3 hours of general studies (woo hoo!) (History), and those of you that can add realize that is only 11 hours. I need at least 12 hours to be considered full-time. So....what can I take to get that last hour of credit and not add another HARD class....like calculus or physics......
So I started playing around with the course catalog, seeing what I could find....first I weeded out Basket Weaving....lost art, maybe....something I am willing to pay almost $1000 a class to learn....not even close. That reasoning was also the downfall of Beginners Yiddish, Philosophy and Star Trek, and Daytime Soap Operas: Family and Social Roles.
But then, what do my wondering eyes behold......Swimming: A Water Workout! One hour a week and I get to swim! That puts me at 12 hours! Oh be still my beating heart! But wait....what is this.....Intermediate Co-ed Softball! Oh man! Which do I choose?
I DON'T! I am taking them both! Next semester, three days a week I am in a pool, and the other two days I am on a softball field! HEAVEN.....I'M IN HEAVEN.....oh yeah....plus all those science classes and stuff too!
So now I am sitting in the gym deli after swimming to let off some of the steam of today.....and Tigger just walked by....and a vampire.....and a caveman.....maybe today will be better after all!
Happy Halloween!
Maybe it didn't help that yesterday began and ended on such a high note.
I started my new job yesterday. It is just a typical job, doing typical stuff, but I do NOT have to work nights and weekends anymore, I do NOT get cussed out every other call, and I work in a yellow room.
I know that may not seem like much to you, but to me, it is awesome. Most offices are a lovely Institutional White, Brain numbing Beige, or (my personal favorite) Sky Blue (you were expecting another made-up paint name weren't you....well, I gotta keep you on your toes). Guys, painting the walls Sky Blue does not make me think I am outside....it just makes me wish I were outside all the more.
My new office is BRIGHT yellow, and we don't sit in cubes. We sit facing OPEN windows that lead out into a yard that little girls play in at various times of the day! It's like a room full of happiness! (Ok, so there is one little, tiny, minuscule downside.....these little girls have a pet...skunk....so sometimes the whole open window thing is a little disturbing....but I am trying to focus on the positive here! Geez.... you are so negative.)
Anyway, so I went to work for a while in my lovely yellow room, then my friend Logan called....
he had a craving for homemade burgers and fries. So he called to invite me to eat them with him.
Woo Hoo!
I do love a good burger (I know it is NOT conducive to the whole Christy Brinkley physique I am working towards....but hey it was HOMEMADE burgers and fries....give a girl a break!). But, right after I get the invite for dinner, I get a call back telling me he forgot the gas hadn't been tuned on in their house yet (they just moved into a new house this weekend). So guess what.....he still wants burgers....but can he cook them at my house?
Are you kidding me.....you want to cook me dinner and I don't even have to go anywhere? Oh heck yeah!
While he was cooking dinner, I was registering for the Spring semester.....I am signed up for 8 hours of grueling classes (Organic Chemistry, Biology II and BIO Lab), my last 3 hours of general studies (woo hoo!) (History), and those of you that can add realize that is only 11 hours. I need at least 12 hours to be considered full-time. So....what can I take to get that last hour of credit and not add another HARD class....like calculus or physics......
So I started playing around with the course catalog, seeing what I could find....first I weeded out Basket Weaving....lost art, maybe....something I am willing to pay almost $1000 a class to learn....not even close. That reasoning was also the downfall of Beginners Yiddish, Philosophy and Star Trek, and Daytime Soap Operas: Family and Social Roles.
But then, what do my wondering eyes behold......Swimming: A Water Workout! One hour a week and I get to swim! That puts me at 12 hours! Oh be still my beating heart! But wait....what is this.....Intermediate Co-ed Softball! Oh man! Which do I choose?
I DON'T! I am taking them both! Next semester, three days a week I am in a pool, and the other two days I am on a softball field! HEAVEN.....I'M IN HEAVEN.....oh yeah....plus all those science classes and stuff too!
So now I am sitting in the gym deli after swimming to let off some of the steam of today.....and Tigger just walked by....and a vampire.....and a caveman.....maybe today will be better after all!
Happy Halloween!
Friday, October 26, 2007
Can you go home again?
Evidently what I need right now is some comfort! I have been stretched to the max emotionally lately and these are the things that usually help.....so I am about to start working my way down the list below.
This is the first time since moving to Austin that I don't feel at home here. I feel transplanted and detached from the people and places that have made this home. (Mostly because my apartment feels like a hotel room since I don't feel safe there anymore.) I have great friends here....I have family close (my brother and Jenny) but I need HOME!
I know there are so many friends that I graduated high school with that only go back home when they are drug by the skin of their teeth. I don't feel that way. I LOVE my hometown. It is tiny, everyone knows everything you do and there is nothing to do there but talk to the people you know. Sound boring as hell? It can be, but mostly there is a comfort in knowing that there are all these people keeping up with you. There is comfort in knowing that everyday is the same and that you can set your watch by the smells coming off the grill at Mr. Kenner's or the time the logs are being dropped at the mill.
Sniffing the air......"Mr. Kenner put the chickens on the grill....bout to start the lunch rush....."
I love that on Thursday's at noon, I know that all the men in that town that I love, will be gathered eating fried chicken at the Lion's Den and that I am always welcome there.
I love that the ballpark is still the best place to get a burger and that we actually go into ballpark-burger-withdrawal in the winter.
I love that when I drive down the main streets in town my left hand never sets on the steering wheel because I am waving at all the cars I pass....and that if I didn't my momma would have heard about it before she left school that day.
That's it.... I have just decided.....I am going home....SOON! I need the smell of the pine trees and the sound of the mill rumbling in the distance. I need the sight of the sunlight streaming through the stain glass windows in the sanctuary on Sunday morning. I need it all! There is a spot I hit on the drive home, where the mesquite trees give way to more majestic pines and the weight of the world that rests on my shoulders gets lifted away with the tree line.
I know I am over simplifying things, but hey....it's a simple place....and for the most part, we are a simple people.
If you don't have a place like this....you are more than welcome to join me in mine. But I think we all have a place that just by being there, makes us stop and take perspective. It makes us look into ourselves and find the peace we have been lacking.
I love to travel and see different place....the sights, the smells....the exotic difference of it all....but I will always need....home.
List of Comforts:
Comfort food: A Sonic DP and my grandmother's Apple Dumplings
Comfort People: Mindy....Mom.....basically the girls....
Comfort Movies: The Princess Bride, The Wedding Date, The Count of Monte Cristo
Comfort Cuddlers: Chloe
Comfort Huggers: Dad (why does a hug from your dad make everything ok?)
Comfort Music: DON'T LAUGH....if I am mad at a boy: Alanis Morsette......... if I am sad about school or work: The Dixie Chicks (I know there is much better music out there....but we are talking comfort here.)
Comfort Clothes: summer - my Dr. Seuss boxer shorts and my "hits happen" t-shirt; winter - my blue zebra-stripe flannel pj's with matching house shoes
Comfort Place: The backyard at my parent's house....laying in the grass between the pecan trees....laying still enough to hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees and feel the caterpillar walk across your hand.....
This is the first time since moving to Austin that I don't feel at home here. I feel transplanted and detached from the people and places that have made this home. (Mostly because my apartment feels like a hotel room since I don't feel safe there anymore.) I have great friends here....I have family close (my brother and Jenny) but I need HOME!
I know there are so many friends that I graduated high school with that only go back home when they are drug by the skin of their teeth. I don't feel that way. I LOVE my hometown. It is tiny, everyone knows everything you do and there is nothing to do there but talk to the people you know. Sound boring as hell? It can be, but mostly there is a comfort in knowing that there are all these people keeping up with you. There is comfort in knowing that everyday is the same and that you can set your watch by the smells coming off the grill at Mr. Kenner's or the time the logs are being dropped at the mill.
Sniffing the air......"Mr. Kenner put the chickens on the grill....bout to start the lunch rush....."
I love that on Thursday's at noon, I know that all the men in that town that I love, will be gathered eating fried chicken at the Lion's Den and that I am always welcome there.
I love that the ballpark is still the best place to get a burger and that we actually go into ballpark-burger-withdrawal in the winter.
I love that when I drive down the main streets in town my left hand never sets on the steering wheel because I am waving at all the cars I pass....and that if I didn't my momma would have heard about it before she left school that day.
That's it.... I have just decided.....I am going home....SOON! I need the smell of the pine trees and the sound of the mill rumbling in the distance. I need the sight of the sunlight streaming through the stain glass windows in the sanctuary on Sunday morning. I need it all! There is a spot I hit on the drive home, where the mesquite trees give way to more majestic pines and the weight of the world that rests on my shoulders gets lifted away with the tree line.
I know I am over simplifying things, but hey....it's a simple place....and for the most part, we are a simple people.
If you don't have a place like this....you are more than welcome to join me in mine. But I think we all have a place that just by being there, makes us stop and take perspective. It makes us look into ourselves and find the peace we have been lacking.
I love to travel and see different place....the sights, the smells....the exotic difference of it all....but I will always need....home.
List of Comforts:
Comfort food: A Sonic DP and my grandmother's Apple Dumplings
Comfort People: Mindy....Mom.....basically the girls....
Comfort Movies: The Princess Bride, The Wedding Date, The Count of Monte Cristo
Comfort Cuddlers: Chloe
Comfort Huggers: Dad (why does a hug from your dad make everything ok?)
Comfort Music: DON'T LAUGH....if I am mad at a boy: Alanis Morsette......... if I am sad about school or work: The Dixie Chicks (I know there is much better music out there....but we are talking comfort here.)
Comfort Clothes: summer - my Dr. Seuss boxer shorts and my "hits happen" t-shirt; winter - my blue zebra-stripe flannel pj's with matching house shoes
Comfort Place: The backyard at my parent's house....laying in the grass between the pecan trees....laying still enough to hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees and feel the caterpillar walk across your hand.....
Friday, October 12, 2007
Nightmare on Pleasant Valley Drive
Guys! You remember my cute new little apartment that I was ranting and raving over just one short month ago?
You know, the one that was a little more hooker than pimp? Yeah? Well, it's a little MORE a lot of things....
little more robbers than cops (although I am quite sure that there have been many a COPS episode filmed on property)
little more dope head than just dope
little more riotous than righteous
OK! OK! I'm done....but you get my point! This place is a nightmare!
I have had the windows on my car smashed to steal my stereo, something stuck in my gas tank so I need a whole new fuel pump, and very large men with screwdrivers banging on my door at night screaming for me to call the cops cuz "they're gonna jump me". (I did call the cops, but more because there was a very large man with a screwdriver at my door......they never showed up by the way.)
They have however been there four times this week. I am not sure what for, but the sound of sirens right outside my door has become the soundtrack to my life.
Soooooooooo.......basically, I think I am moving again! If I can get out of my lease that is.....evidently being scared out of my ever-lovin' mind is not a sufficient legal reason to break a lease.
Who knew?
You know, the one that was a little more hooker than pimp? Yeah? Well, it's a little MORE a lot of things....
little more robbers than cops (although I am quite sure that there have been many a COPS episode filmed on property)
little more dope head than just dope
little more riotous than righteous
OK! OK! I'm done....but you get my point! This place is a nightmare!
I have had the windows on my car smashed to steal my stereo, something stuck in my gas tank so I need a whole new fuel pump, and very large men with screwdrivers banging on my door at night screaming for me to call the cops cuz "they're gonna jump me". (I did call the cops, but more because there was a very large man with a screwdriver at my door......they never showed up by the way.)
They have however been there four times this week. I am not sure what for, but the sound of sirens right outside my door has become the soundtrack to my life.
Soooooooooo.......basically, I think I am moving again! If I can get out of my lease that is.....evidently being scared out of my ever-lovin' mind is not a sufficient legal reason to break a lease.
Who knew?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Clue! ummmm...in the gym with the pool buoy!
Top 10 Clues I am becoming a gym rat:
10) We have no carpet and pets...so our house needs dusting....A LOT. But, usually NOT the showers.....however, when you use the one at the gym everyday...well, ewwwww.
9) I bought extra sets of cheap hair products and make-up to keep at the gym....but the cheap ones all ended up at home and there is about 100 dollars worth of hair gel in my gym locker.
8) I got invited to the Back To School Party at the house of the guy that swipes the membership cards at the door. His name is Tim.
7) The girl with the locker under me left a note on my locker telling me she likes my perfume. It's a good thing because it usually smells like it in there.....(is that too weird?)
6) My personal trainer gave me a birthday card.
5) I have owned my new purple speedo for not even two months, but it is already too big!
4) Everything I own smells faintly of chlorine.....I mean everything...even Chloe a little...hmmmm......
3) I used to recognize people on campus from classes I have taken. It was "Hey, there's the girl from Gov that always wears those orange Crocs." or "Oooooh, there's hot guy from calculus." (Ok, that one is made up....there are NO hot guys in calculus.) You get the point. Now it's "Hey, it's the guy who swims in the fast lane, but is sooooo not fast lane worthy." and "Oooooh, there's the girl who thinks that the second treadmill from the end is her own personal treadmill and Lord help you if you are on it when she gets there."
2) I caught myself mentally re-arranging my class schedule in respect to proximity to the gym.
and finally........
1) School has been out for two weeks and I STILL have been on campus everyday....and that's just sad!
10) We have no carpet and pets...so our house needs dusting....A LOT. But, usually NOT the showers.....however, when you use the one at the gym everyday...well, ewwwww.
9) I bought extra sets of cheap hair products and make-up to keep at the gym....but the cheap ones all ended up at home and there is about 100 dollars worth of hair gel in my gym locker.
8) I got invited to the Back To School Party at the house of the guy that swipes the membership cards at the door. His name is Tim.
7) The girl with the locker under me left a note on my locker telling me she likes my perfume. It's a good thing because it usually smells like it in there.....(is that too weird?)
6) My personal trainer gave me a birthday card.
5) I have owned my new purple speedo for not even two months, but it is already too big!
4) Everything I own smells faintly of chlorine.....I mean everything...even Chloe a little...hmmmm......
3) I used to recognize people on campus from classes I have taken. It was "Hey, there's the girl from Gov that always wears those orange Crocs." or "Oooooh, there's hot guy from calculus." (Ok, that one is made up....there are NO hot guys in calculus.) You get the point. Now it's "Hey, it's the guy who swims in the fast lane, but is sooooo not fast lane worthy." and "Oooooh, there's the girl who thinks that the second treadmill from the end is her own personal treadmill and Lord help you if you are on it when she gets there."
2) I caught myself mentally re-arranging my class schedule in respect to proximity to the gym.
and finally........
1) School has been out for two weeks and I STILL have been on campus everyday....and that's just sad!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Who knew?
I learned some things about myself this week from the weirdest places.
1) Although my favorite color is red, I am inexplicably drawn to pink. I thought I was NOT a girl who loved pink. It's such a girly color. However, I went through my clothes this week to get rid of some stuff for Goodwill. (The more I purge, the less I have to move.)
My room is usually a mess. I am really weird in that I am kinda anal in a weird way. Once I start a project, it has to be PERFECT. So, I usually avoid organizing. If I get started, it can't be a quick clean....oh no....it is a four hour job!
However, I thought "I'm moving, so I need to get my clothes and closet in order." BAD IDEA. I have three garbage bags of clothes for Goodwill, and still my closet is packed....and arranged by seasons.....and color coordinated.....with matching hangers....separated by coordinated accessories. AGGGGGGGGHHHHHH.....but it is soooo pretty now.
When I was done, I stepped back to view my handy work. And then it hit me....PINK!!!
Who knew?
2) I am scared of heights. I have known this for a while. Again....this is not your normal I'm-high-off-the-ground-so-I-am-scared fear. Oh no, that would be far too normal for me. If I am strapped into something I am fine. I LOVE roller coasters, airplanes, ski lifts....you get the picture. However, driving on a ledge, hiking on a ledge....pretty much anything where the only thing keeping from falling is well....me.....SCARES THE CRAP OUT OF ME!!!!!! Guys, I'm clumsy....we all know this....if I am what is keeping me from falling....well....the odds are NOT in my favor.
Anyway, this week I learned this fear also extends to deep water. Since the school is closed for the next two weeks between semesters, the outdoor lap pool that I have been using doesn't open until 9 am. I was forced to use the Natatorium (indoor lap pool). Guys....it's like 10 feet!
No need to get into the embarrassing antics that ensued, but just be sure, I won't be in there again...until tomorrow.....Helen is really into torture!
Who knew?
3) I had five of these but apparently my attention span is shorter than I thought...
Who knew?
1) Although my favorite color is red, I am inexplicably drawn to pink. I thought I was NOT a girl who loved pink. It's such a girly color. However, I went through my clothes this week to get rid of some stuff for Goodwill. (The more I purge, the less I have to move.)
My room is usually a mess. I am really weird in that I am kinda anal in a weird way. Once I start a project, it has to be PERFECT. So, I usually avoid organizing. If I get started, it can't be a quick clean....oh no....it is a four hour job!
However, I thought "I'm moving, so I need to get my clothes and closet in order." BAD IDEA. I have three garbage bags of clothes for Goodwill, and still my closet is packed....and arranged by seasons.....and color coordinated.....with matching hangers....separated by coordinated accessories. AGGGGGGGGHHHHHH.....but it is soooo pretty now.
When I was done, I stepped back to view my handy work. And then it hit me....PINK!!!
Who knew?
2) I am scared of heights. I have known this for a while. Again....this is not your normal I'm-high-off-the-ground-so-I-am-scared fear. Oh no, that would be far too normal for me. If I am strapped into something I am fine. I LOVE roller coasters, airplanes, ski lifts....you get the picture. However, driving on a ledge, hiking on a ledge....pretty much anything where the only thing keeping from falling is well....me.....SCARES THE CRAP OUT OF ME!!!!!! Guys, I'm clumsy....we all know this....if I am what is keeping me from falling....well....the odds are NOT in my favor.
Anyway, this week I learned this fear also extends to deep water. Since the school is closed for the next two weeks between semesters, the outdoor lap pool that I have been using doesn't open until 9 am. I was forced to use the Natatorium (indoor lap pool). Guys....it's like 10 feet!
No need to get into the embarrassing antics that ensued, but just be sure, I won't be in there again...until tomorrow.....Helen is really into torture!
Who knew?
3) I had five of these but apparently my attention span is shorter than I thought...
Who knew?
Monday, July 23, 2007
That web ain't Charlotte's!
These used to be my cowgirl boots....now they are my big-ass-spider-killers.
We just had the biggest spider I have ever seen outside of a cage waltz right into our house when Lindsay opened the front door.
Dang thing thought he owned the place! Of course, if he hadn't been blocking our escape route we would have been more than happy to leave it to him!
Lindsay screamed at me from the living room to come help her and I ran into the living room.
She was standing on the arm of one of my living room chairs pointing to a spider the size of a a golf ball....we initially said two golf balls, but I think that might have been an exaggeration....maybe.
Lindsay screamed for me to kill it...but I DO NOT DO SPIDERS. I can kinda handle snakes, and most bugs but NOT spiders.
I ran back to my room and put on my boots...cuz well...they're big and thick the spider would have to run up my leg to get to any good biting real estate.
After a intense game of paper-rock-scissors, I "won" the job of killing the spider. So, in a very impressive feat of strength I moved the couch that the spider was now hiding under (I honestly don't know how it fit), ran over and jumped with all my might on the little bugger. (Fred, that pun's for you!)
Ok, there was a bit of screaming.....ok, a lot of screaming.....but that spider is now a golf ball sized gooey blob out on our front porch!
And I can probably never wear those boots again.....
EDIT NOTE:
You know how in horror movies, the killer bug/alien/zombie/half-man half-chainsaw is NEVER dead the first time you shoot/stab/impale/burn it? Well with that in mind....the gooey blob was NOT on my porch when I left for the gym this morning....
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
As God as my witness...As God as my witness....
Ok guys....the search for the perfect place to live is (hopefully) coming to an end.
Yesterday I put down a deposit and turned in an application on a 1-1 (that's right...just me and Chloe) in south east Austin.
No, it isn't very pimp....quite frankly it's a little more hooker than pimp, but it will be home.
And....it is not even close to some of the EXPENSIVE hovels I was shown in the past week. I looked at a place that boasted a walk in closet. However, sitting right smack dab in the middle of that closet....the freakin hot water heater! Who designed this...seriously?
Yesterday I put down a deposit and turned in an application on a 1-1 (that's right...just me and Chloe) in south east Austin.
No, it isn't very pimp....quite frankly it's a little more hooker than pimp, but it will be home.
And....it is not even close to some of the EXPENSIVE hovels I was shown in the past week. I looked at a place that boasted a walk in closet. However, sitting right smack dab in the middle of that closet....the freakin hot water heater! Who designed this...seriously?
Another one did not have ANY overhead lighting, so they had rigged lighting and fans with their cords stapled down the walls. Obviously these were not controlled by switches in the walls...oh no...one would have to come home every day and walk around the house to PLUG IN THE LIGHTS. All this could be yours for the low monthly payment of 600/mo plus utilities and pet rent. (Don't even get me started on pet rent!)
But, this wasn't even the worst one....oh no...
In quite a few 1-1's you have to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom (not mine by the way) so any guest you have is going to see your messy bedroom....ok....maybe the messy part is just me....but still...
However, in one I looked at, not only did you have to go through the bedroom, but also the closet! And I don't mean one of those cool passthroughs like in Carrie's apartment in Sex and the City.....oh no....you open the closet door....and the walk through to the back and open the other door to get to the bathroom....guy's...it's a hidden room! (and that's not a very good room to hide)
And how do you explain how to get to the bathroom? "Yea, just go into my bedroom, and open the closet door. Try not to trip over my dirty laundry. Then go to the back of the dark creepy closet to the other door that looks like something out of Silence of the Lambs and it's right through there. If you get lost, take a right at the high heels!"
What the .... come on now!
But hopefully all this horror is now at an end! Lets all pray that my application goes through and I get my wonderfully, only slightly scary, apartment!
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Mr.Toad
OMG!!! I just had the most girlie moment ever!
I like to think that I don't usually squeal at gross things and I am not scared of or shy away from things that are traditionally squeal-girl-worthy.
Yes mother I know I won't go in the attic, but that is a scary stairs thing not a dark and dank thing....
And yes, Dad, I know I won't go out in the shop by myself at night, but that is not a dark creepy crawly bug thing, that is a....ok that IS a creepy crawly bug thing, but I don't scare away when I can actually see them...it's the fear of the unknown in the dark.....
Anyway, tonight I embarrassed myself....
I went to let the dogs out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It has been raining like mad here for hours and it had slowed to a mere monsoon so I thought I would let the girls out now so they wouldn't get quite as wet.
I opened the door, let them run out to do their business and stood in the doorway to wait like a good dog mommy. That's when it happened...
A BIG ASS TOAD JUMPED IN MY HOUSE AND LANDED A MILLIMETER FROM MY FOOT!!!!!
I SQUEALED!!!! I couldn't help it! Then I screamed for Lindsay (coolest roomie ever) to come help me....
It all happened so fast! I tried to suck the squeal and the words back in, but no such luck. It was already out there....It's official, today I am a five year old girl!
I know you are all trembling with trepidation, but no worries, we used the dog bowls to corral the beast and usher it back outside.
PHHHWEW!!!
I like to think that I don't usually squeal at gross things and I am not scared of or shy away from things that are traditionally squeal-girl-worthy.
Yes mother I know I won't go in the attic, but that is a scary stairs thing not a dark and dank thing....
And yes, Dad, I know I won't go out in the shop by myself at night, but that is not a dark creepy crawly bug thing, that is a....ok that IS a creepy crawly bug thing, but I don't scare away when I can actually see them...it's the fear of the unknown in the dark.....
Anyway, tonight I embarrassed myself....
I went to let the dogs out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It has been raining like mad here for hours and it had slowed to a mere monsoon so I thought I would let the girls out now so they wouldn't get quite as wet.
I opened the door, let them run out to do their business and stood in the doorway to wait like a good dog mommy. That's when it happened...
A BIG ASS TOAD JUMPED IN MY HOUSE AND LANDED A MILLIMETER FROM MY FOOT!!!!!
I SQUEALED!!!! I couldn't help it! Then I screamed for Lindsay (coolest roomie ever) to come help me....
It all happened so fast! I tried to suck the squeal and the words back in, but no such luck. It was already out there....It's official, today I am a five year old girl!
I know you are all trembling with trepidation, but no worries, we used the dog bowls to corral the beast and usher it back outside.
PHHHWEW!!!
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