Monday, May 31, 2004

Happy Memorial Day.

posted at 8:58 AM

Friday, May 28, 2004

Thank God for Roadside Assistance.

When I leased my car, I actually thought twice about signing up and paying for Honda's Roadside Assistance program. Thank God I did. And I'll never go without it, that's for sure. Having a flat tire is a pretty painless experience.

But I need new tires, the other three. There's nothing worse than having to buy new tires. Well, maybe getting a crack in the windshield fixed and repairing a driver's side door panel. That's worse. Won't the Car Fix Fairy come take care of all this for me? I've got no time for this.

posted at 9:56 AM

Thursday, May 27, 2004

Just a few things...

- I had a wonderful evening. Everything about it was good. I love nights like that.
- I thought the skin on my arm was peeling, turns out, it was just sugar from the donut I was eating.
- Holly says Exxon was having a big annual meeting yesterday, that's more than likely what all the ruckus was with the helicopters and what-not.
- I do quite a bit of dancing at work.
- I do love a surprise.
- I think I need to get a dog. To kill off some of this biological-clock-ticking, to suppress these maternal instincts that keep taking over my body. If I dream again that I'm pregnant, I'm going to have to buy the Second Incarnation Early Pregnancy Test.

It's such a beautiful day. It's reason enough to smile and be thankful.


posted at 9:40 AM

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Drama in the Hood

This morning, I wake up to the sound of helicopters outside. Several of them, police helicopters, flying low, circling above my apartment complex. They were there when I awoke, and they were still there when I left for work. Then on my way in, all these unmarked white police-type cars, just scattered around. One sitting in a field next to another apartment complex. Isn't that strange?

So, I've concluded, that the summer terror alert has begun and all efforts are focused on my neighborhood. I am living with the terrorists. Or the drug dealers. Now, that would explain all the Hummers, Vipers, and other expensive cars in the parking garage. Yes, it's definitely a drug bust. And yes, I am the queen of generalization.

Maybe I can be on Cops or something.

The only other drama (besides cars being stolen, broken into, or wheels removed from them in the parking garage at my place) that has occurred in my neighborhood was the time that the Greenpeace activists dressed up in Tiger outfits and busted into some top executive meetings at the Exxon offices across the street. That was awesome.

Who needs reality TV?

posted at 8:44 AM

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Just FYI.

I lovvvvve love love love love cherries. Raw, fresh cherries. Love them! I like spitting the seeds (pits?) into my trash can. Damn, they're good. I wish they were this good all year long.

posted at 1:10 PM

Monday, May 24, 2004

Feel the Burn

That seems to be the theme of my weekend. Spin class and sunburn. Both feel good, though, in their own sort of way. With some tips from my spin expert, Will, I think I can integrate this spin thing into my workout... but... right now... it hurts a little bit to sit down.

I had a productive, relaxing weekend. My favorite kind of weekend. I can't seem to get into the groove of work today. Monday's are tough. But next Monday is a holiday, which is exciting. Good times.

That's it. No soup for you.

posted at 10:12 AM

Friday, May 21, 2004

"Lost Cause" - Beck

Your sorry eyes, they cut through bone.
They make it hard to leave you alone.
Leave you here wearing your wounds
Waving your guns at somebody new.

Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost cause.

There’s too many people you used to know,
They see you coming they see you go.
They know your secrets and you know theirs,
This town is crazy, but nobody cares.

Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost cause.
I’m tired of fighting
I’m tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause.

There’s a place where you are going,
You ain’t never been before.
There’s no one laughing at your back now,
No one standing at your door
Is that what you thought love was for?

Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost
Baby I’m a lost cause.
I’m tired of fighting
I’m tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause.

posted at 2:51 PM

THE WEEKEND IS ALMOST HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

posted at 9:25 AM

Thursday, May 20, 2004


I get more errors when trying to access this site lately than actually getting the GolfGirl page. Frustrating.

I've really got to start planning my high school reunion. It's ten years this year, so I've got to throw this party sometime in the next six or seven months. Is that enough time to plan a reunion? I have no idea. It's whipping me to even think about it. But I've solicited the help of a former classmate, and I think she'll be a huge help. I think she's an event planner or something. I have no idea where to start.

Today is a PERFECT weather day. The sun is shining, it's warm outside, a little breeze...Happy place... I'm in my happy place! I've got a day full of shitty meetings today. You know, meetings to discuss uncomfortable, political things that make your stomach turn a little bit just to see it on your calendar? I will not let this childish hornet's nest of a place put me into a negative state of mind. I mean, look outside, people!

Sigh. :)

posted at 8:53 AM

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Dream a Little Dream

I've been having dreams about my dad a lot lately. Maybe he's been on my mind more than usual lately, but the dreams are so strange. Not that I don't welcome them. It's like having a nice little visit with him, spending time with him. My dreams are that real. They're actually not dreamlike at all.

I've said time and time again on this blog that I truly feel that I was blessed to have the parents that I had. Erase had, re-type have. Replace with had again. Okay, I've still HAVE one, I HAD the other. People should envy me because of my awesome parents. They truly were, the best. ARE the best. Shit!

My mother and father played very different roles in my life, my upbringing, my development. I think that's typical. My mother is strong. She's a worrier, but we have always known that her paranoia comes from a good place. She makes sacrifices. She is a realist. She taught me about independence. She "does" when she can't "do". When she says, "I love you", you know she means it. It's all in the way she says it. Not to mention, if you know her, you know that she is NOT full of bullshit. She means what she says.

While my parents' roles and influences certainly overlapped, Dad had some special insights into my upbringing as well. He also encouraged independence -- mom taught by example, dad explained. Dad taught me how to treat people. He taught me how to take it easy. He taught me that the smallest things in life were worth enjoying and savoring. Finding your happy place had nothing to do with money or price, your happy place is in the small things -- a cup of coffee with a friend, a good meal, a siesta, rocking in the rockingchairs on the porch and having a good talk with someone you love, a long drive. A breeze. A drink. Weekends. Dad rushed nothing.

What I'm getting at is, I think that when someone you love dies, and you dream about them or think about them often, I think you're needing something from them. You're needing to fill up their void a little bit.

I do need someone like Dad in my life, but mostly, sometimes I need to feel the way Dad made me feel. Relaxed. At ease. Content in a good way. Safe. At least I know what I'm looking for, because I know it exists, I watched and learned.

Come in from the cold for awhile...
Everything will be alright...
Come in from the noise for a time...
Everything will be alright...
Everything will be alright...
For now...

posted at 11:09 AM

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

I went to get my passport at lunch today at my local post office. They kept my "official" birth certificate to send to the US State Department. This scares me. If a document such as this can be lost, it will be mine. That's just how it goes. Stay tuned. Pray for the Paper Trail Gods to take care of my stuff.

The weather is beautiful. I've been emailing with my sister today about golf...makes me want to get out there and play. She's thinking of getting her son, my four year old nephew Bailey, some clubs for his birthday. Real clubs. He's already got the Little Tykes or Fisher Price kind. He wants the real thing. This, the child who doctors predict will be around 6'4". This, the child who decided to forego the tee and preferred you to throw him the baseball. And he made contact. Almost every time. He's very athletically inclined, unlike his Aunt Lauri. Aunt Lauri plays golf because it's the only sport in which the ball isn't actually moving when you're supposed to make contact with it. I worry at the rate he's growing, though, that we won't be able to "keep him in a set of clubs". He's at least a head taller than his cousin Emma, who is three months older than him. He's going to be my bodyguard when he gets big and I get famous. Emma will do my girly stuff. I love them so much.

Speaking of little people. I'm having some strange biological clock sensations. I'm not sure where they're coming from. Yesterday, at the doctor's office, a daddy sat in the waiting room with a 6 week old baby while the mommy was back getting a check up...I almost took that baby from him, put it in my car, and took her home with me. So that I could have one of my own, you see. Yeah, that baby was cuuuu-uuute. I want one. I neeeeed one.

But then I look at my cat. Poor thing needs to be groomed, she has for weeks now. I left her outside on the balcony last night for a couple of hours while I passed out on the couch. I've been told recently that I could be narcoleptic. I could be. I can sleep on command, anywhere, anytime. Sometimes, it just sneaks up on me. Mom claims I got this from my father. I wonder if I snore like he did? Good Lord, I hope not.

It's birthday cake time in the breakroom. For the May birthdays. There are balloons. I might have to treat myself to a Welch's Grape Soda.

posted at 1:41 PM

Monday, May 17, 2004

Fade Into You
Mazzy Star

I want to hold the hand inside you
I want to take a breath that's true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth
You live your life, you go in shadows
You'll come apart and you'll go black
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colors your eyes with what's not there

Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it's strange you never knew

A stranger's light comes on slowly
A stranger's heart without a home
You put your hands into your head
And then smiles cover your heart

Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it's strange you never knew

Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it's strange you never knew
I think it's strange you never knew

posted at 10:58 AM

I love a Summer.

I can't sit with my legs crossed in my chair today because I'm wearing a skirt. Yes, you heard me, I'm wearing a skirt. I'm even thinking of making skirts a big part of my summertime wardrobe this year. Yeah. Going all out.

So I had a great weekend. Some celebratory drinks with V after work on Friday. V is buying a house. I'm so excited for him. Then a couple more drinks Friday night with another friend. Making the rounds, making the rounds.

Saturday, the Byron with my friend Jonny. We sat on the edge of the 18th green and watched with shock and awe as all the golfers came in and putted out for the day. Greatness. Even though I covered myself from head to toe with clothing, I still got a little sun. Actually, I looked like I dipped my hands in a bucket of red paint, up to my forearms. The watch, of course, protecting an inch of skin around my wrist. So Sunday, I decided to try and even out the burn by spending some time at the pool. That worked, and oh, my friends, how I love the sun. And the water. And the reading and the relaxing. Summer is near, and that makes me a very happy girl.

It's a half day at work today, I've got a doctor's appointment. Joy.
I need a vacation. But these good, relaxing weekends will work for now.

posted at 10:00 AM

Saturday, May 15, 2004

I'm feeling pretty good today. I've had a productive morning so far, and am about to head out to the Byron. Good times. My, my, isn't the weather lovely?

I'm convinced that my back and neck pain are here to stay. I am one with the pain.

I've got nothing. That's it. Maybe more later.

posted at 12:13 PM

Friday, May 14, 2004

Before I start my weekend, I'm leaving you on a good note, with my favorite quote. It's quite relevant to the post I made about's just a great quote. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
-- Kahlil Gibran

posted at 3:16 PM

I don't make entries in this blog to provoke people. I spend more time protecting the feelings of others, whether it looks that way or not. Many times, I've been asked NOT to write about certain encounters, discussions, or feelings, given that I've always had a sensitive audience. And sensitive for good reason, sometimes. Sometimes, not-so-good of a reason. These blogs are like reality TV -- even when you should quit watching, you're drawn to it anyway. You've got to keep coming back.

And you're welcomed here. All of you.

I don't "have to be sensitive" because I use this forum to write about a life in which I set out to hurt people. I'm not sure what it was about that last post that provoked a journey to the comment box that was probably long overdue, but it certainly opened the door for me to make some statements that I've not been able to in the past.

I've made some mistakes in my life. I've written about a lot of those here. One thing, though, I've got no regrets about my life and my experiences. I overthink everything I do. There have been those times, though, when someone's gotten in. They've convinced me to live and feel everything with every sense I've got, with every ounce of my being, to let go. I'm so thankful for that. Those experiences made me feel alive.

Back to regret, though. In general, I regret that sometimes when we're out living our lives, trying to soak it all up, our decisions indirectly have a negative effect on other people. Sometimes we're aware of that possibility, sometimes we have no idea. Sometimes we're not given enough information. Sometimes we've got all the information, and we focus our efforts inwardly so much that we don't pay attention to anything else.

That being said, I'm actually very good at being able to put myself in other people's shoes, to look at things using someone else's perspective. Don't think for a minute that when guilt creeps in, I don't immediately consider everyone else's feelings but my own. I can actually be quite selfless at times.

I am responsible for my own happiness. This is true for everyone. No one is obligated to make or keep us happy. Read that sentence twice.

The thing is, I want you to be happy. All of you. And call me on it when I'm making you unhappy. Put your cards on the table. Do whatever you have to do to get if off your chest. If it's anonymously posting a comment on a public blog, then go for it. Of course, I can always be reached via more traditional methods if the mood strikes you.

You know, I learn something new every day. Today's lesson, though, was simply revisiting one I learned months ago. I know when I should say I'm sorry, I just don't always get the opportunity. Sometimes, though, you can't find the right words. Sometimes, "sorry" doesn't communicate what you're trying to say.

I do know this: Every morning I look in the mirror and I like the person staring back at me. I hope you do, too. I'm human and full of flaws. But I work on them. Every day.

posted at 10:59 AM

Thursday, May 13, 2004

The Relationship Gospel According to the Sainted Single Chick

People who aren't in relationships have a lot of time to sit around and think about relationships. You know, the same way the childless tell parents all over the world the best way to raise their children. I am constantly thinking about relationships -- my loved ones' relationships, or about the kind of relationship I want. I've learned a lot about relationships -- by experience, from the role models in my life, or by witnessing situations that teach me about those "red flags" that one should recognize by the obvious warning signs.

(I should also say that, really, I've learned all I need to know about relationships by watching reality TV. I mean, come on, that's where it is. Human emotions and vulnerabilities just opened up like a chest cavity during a heart transplant.) Blech.

Anyway, this morning with my coffee, I decided to forego the book I've been reading and picked up my most recent copy of "Organic Style". It's got great articles. (Okay, okay, I admit...I subscribe for the photographs. There's nothing like a seeing a spread on our country's 125 Healthiest Cities...It makes me hot.)

This month, there's a great article, "Love Means Never Having to Say We're Best Friends". The title immediately reminded me of advice my parents have been giving me since I started dating: "Make sure your mate is your best friend. You've got to be friends first."

I've always agreed. My best relationships have been those where I felt I had not only a romantic connection, but a friendship as well. I've let some go by the wayside because I just didn't feel that the other person was enough of a friend to me. I still agree with this philosophy. But this article gave me a different perspective. Another type of advice.

The author profiles a handful of couples she knows, half of which have very successful relationships, the others, a little shaky. After a brief description of her "A List" couples, she writes, "More than friendship, these couples share an appreciation of their better halves as separate from themselves. They don't feel that they need to keep pace with each other in order to be equals." Now, she makes this leap from happy couples to friendship not being the focus to leaving competition at the door very quickly. She abandons the friend theory quickly, actually, suggesting that all this focus on being your partner's friend is overrated, that your efforts should be focused elsewhere.

It's that "elsewhere" and the stories she tells that are interesting to me. She writes about the differences in people, and the sparks that can fly as a result of embracing those differences. It seems like I used to always say "He and I just don't have anything in common. He's not my type." As time goes by, I find that I want different. I'm craving different. "...luxuriating in your spouse's unique qualities, or endearing foibles, can be a pleasure..." I am finding that I tire very easily of someone focusing on the differences, and especially on my shortcomings. I yam who I yam.

Another thing I crave is respect. The last sentence of the article is my favorite, "There is something very sexy about two people conspiring to admire each other." I love that.

I still think I want my mate to be my friend. But I've got all kinds of friends. Many of those friends don't have the kind of love or respect or admiration or adoration of me (nor do I of them) that's needed to sustain a great relationship. I need more than a friend. I think that it's just a bonus if you find those things in someone who was your friend first.

Men know how women like to be treated, how they like to feel. All you have to do is turn on the Lifetime channel for a couple of hours. But asking someone to be something they aren't is another post altogether.

posted at 10:17 PM

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

This is awesome.

Henrietta Pussycat?
Prince Tuesday?
X the Owl?

These were my best friends growing up! And you can travel through Mr. Rogers Neighborhood of Make Believe this afternoon if you want. There's even a song book.

Meow meow love meow meow Mr. Rogers.

posted at 2:17 PM

Monday, May 10, 2004

Culinary Genius

I love to cook. But lately, I've really been slipping up in the kitchen. Last night, I thought the frost-bitten broccoli would taste fine. Mistake. I set my smoke detector off for the one-thousandth time since I moved into this apartment. That damned thing is sensitive. It was a disaster. Thankfully, a friend was over to help me fan the smoke so that Lily could come out from under the bed and so that my neighbors didn't come banging on the door complaining. It's loud, I tell ya. And when I'm subjected to resonant noises, the last thing that needs to happen is a neighbor showing up to complain. I could snap in a second in situations like that. ;)

I like the italics.

So not long ago, I made Rice Crispy Treats with low fat butter... They just don't hold up as well as when you follow the recipe (that explicitly says, DO NOT SUBSTITUTE LOW FAT BUTTER). Yeah, whatever. They still taste the same, even if they fall apart in your hands while eating them. I had a craving, what can I say?

V said I should try adding tuna next time, that always works better.

V is always making me laugh. Everything his says...He's one of those people who you can never tell if he's serious or joking. His delivery is excellent. His timing is always perfect. He should do stand up, I tell you. Very witty indeed. V makes working at the vision bearable. Without he and April, I'd probably run out into traffic. Although there's no real traffic out here in the burbs, so I'd probably just end up with some bad scrapes and bruises, which are worse, really, if you think about it.

I had a lazy weekend. I stayed medicated most of Saturday, and therefore slept about 90% of the day. My back and neck are certainly feeling better. I'm not very good company when I'm sick or in any kind of pain, so it's good that it was just Lily and me on Saturday. She bit me a few times, though. Apparently, she's tired of putting up with my shit, too. At least that's the idea I got when she gave me the finger yesterday when I asked her if she loved her mommy.

Now it's Monday. I think I will try to see a movie tonight, per Will's suggestion. (Or insistence, I should say.) Movies are fun.

posted at 12:26 PM

Sunday, May 09, 2004

Happy Mother's Day

I love you, Mom.
I love you, Holly.

I hope you guys have a wonderful day.


posted at 9:45 AM

Friday, May 07, 2004


I'm in an insane amount of pain. I think I've mentioned before in the blog that I've got a very low tolerance for pain of any kind. Pain, pain, pain. I feel it. It makes me nauseated, takes my breath away. Blech.

A few years, it was about four years ago now that I think about it, my, how time flies... Anyway, about four years ago, I woke up one day with what I thought was a crick in my neck. The pain just got worse and worse. I couldn't move. I cried all day long. I was swallowing any kind of pain reliever I could get my hands on like they were candy. I tried herbal muscle relaxers, nothing worked. I went to a chiropractor for a couple of weeks. You know, you always "go to a chiropractor for a couple of weeks", because they never let you stop by for one visit. Everything is a process. What the fuck ever, he jacked me around for so long, not easing my pain, until one day I had my at-the-time-live-in boyfriend take me to the emergency room.

Let me take a step back. To further explain how frustrating this experience was...The aforementioned boyfriend and his family were Christian Scientists. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But in case you don't know anything about Christian Science -- everything begins in thought. Including back pain. Prayer can heal anything. And they don't medicate themselves. They don't see doctors. If they cut off one leg with the lawnmower, it began in thought, and therefore they can think and pray it away like nobody's business. I respect these views and beliefs. But when you're in this much pain, so much pain that you don't want to hear ANYONE talking, you sure as shit don't want to hear them saying that it's all in your head, and "to focus on the fact that the pain is a result of not feeling you have enough support in your life. Meditate on that thought."

Meditate my ass. My life at the time was lacking a lot more than support. But that's another blog post altogether.

So back to the hospital... A third set of x-rays later (oh my, how will my insurance punish me for this?), the doctor confirmed the chiropractor's diagnosis -- some sort of swollen or inflamed or bigger-than-it's-supposed-to-be disk in my back. Doctor's orders? To wear a $12 neck brace for a few days to take the weight of my big head off my spine while the inflammation subsides. There's nothing more frustrating than finding out the cure to your ailment costs twelve bucks and that you've just blown $400 at the damned chiropractor's office.

So I'm diagnosing myself this time. I overdosed on Aleve this morning. I took a hot bath. I dug the neck brace out of the closet, although I'm not wearing it at work. I'll put it back on when I get home. I may be in pain, but I'm certainly not going to look like an idiot. Who do you think I am? I've got a reputation to uphold.

I will spend most of my weekend in a horizontal position, so that my big, heavy head doesn't irritate my spine. Perhaps I'll move on to some stronger pain killers, given that I won't be responsible for operating any heavy machinery or a Honda whilst lying on my couch. Maybe I'll mix it up with a glass of wine. I just don't know if I'll have enough time.

(Mom, that last part was a joke.)

I've been meaning to mention, by the way, that some chick from Temptation Island works at my office. If only I watched more reality TV, I'd know that I've been in the presence of superstardom. Or something.

posted at 9:03 AM

Monday, May 03, 2004

Kitty Angel

Rest in peace, Kitty Angel.
You had a wonderful 22 years.
We'll miss you.

posted at 2:36 PM

What a Weekend...The Narrative.

So like I said, I headed to my hometown this weekend to see my family. Dinner with my mom and brother Friday night, and then catching up with my high school government teacher (random) who was back visiting for the weekend also. This was the woman who *inspired* me to change my major to political science after completing all of my pre-requisite courses for nursing school. So now I'm in marketing. Go figure. Anyway, it was a good evening. That night, I slept in 1-2 hour blocks, between the interruptions from the noises of the storm outside. Which was wonderful, really. An act of God prohibited all of the falling limbs from a tree in my mother's yard from hitting my car, I still don't know how my car came out of that unscathed.

Saturday, after breakfast with my mom, sister, and nephew, my brother and I were off to Shreveport. Not exactly perfect driving conditions, still a little rainy, but we managed to enjoy the road trip.

We arrived at the hotel around 4:00. I checked in, hoping there would be a room with two double beds available. I knew that my guests arriving later would also need a place to crash, and one king-sized bed would be just too difficult to manage the crowd's sleeping needs. Unfortunately, all that was available was a room with a king-sized bed, and "this hotel don't have any rollaways." Lovely.

So we walk into our room... and for the love of God... there is a huge Jacuzzi next to the bed. Not in the bathroom. Right next to the bed. With mirrors all around it. What was this, the honeymoon suite? Oh well, perhaps someone could sleep in there later...

We head down to the casino and I continue administering the craps lesson started in the car at the actual craps table with Mathew. The dealers instantly coin Mathew as "Jesus", given his striking resemblance to the paintings you see of Jesus, and the drawings on those big candles, right? We're instantly addicted to the game, but we force ourselves away from the table after losing quite a bit, knowing that we've got several more hours worth of gambling to do before check-out time the next morning. We crash for a little while, waiting for Jonathan and Doug to arrive so that we can head over to the comedy club downtown.

Jonathan and Doug get to the room and Mathew announces his intention of baptizing them later in the Jacuzzi.

We head to the comedy club. Rob Little - quite possibly one of the funniest comedians I've ever seen. Well, I've only actually seen one comedian live...and that's him. But my God was he funny.

Back to the casino. More craps. I can't keep my eyes open, I'm so tired. But mostly, I'm tired of losing. Jonathan's up about five hundred bucks (thanks to my tossing of the dice), and I'm not 100% sure of Doug and Mathew's status, as they're not so OCD with their money-counting as Jonny and I are. I wish them good luck and head back to the room.

The next day, we make Jonathan buy us breakfast, given that he doubled that $500 after I left (please read that last part of the sentence through gritted teeth for the full effect.) We gamble a bit more (idiots) and decide to head home.

Another good road trip back. Perfect weather. I don't care how much money I lost (and I'm certainly not telling how much that was), but I had a great time. I'd do it all over again. No regrets. Looking forward to the next trip. And you know what? Good friends and family are priceless.

posted at 10:05 AM