"hey lady! i just gave your punk son a lesson in female anatomy..."

"sorry we had to teach him at such an early stage, being that he is what...5??"

that's what i yelled over the walls of my changing room at target last night.

i love when i am in a store trying on clothes, and some stupid woman lets her son run about.
nothing beats a little boy sticking his head under my dressing room door to get a full shot of my bewbies..


except of course, my foot.

you are her pain

she often visits past memories
self-seeking sadness all alone.
trying to find the here and now.
in the past she wants more of.

everything changes but it's painfully the same
dark night's still haunting stone faces remain.
realize what she wanted, has no meaning for her now.
it's all a stranger body in a smoke-filled crowd.

and now she knows heroes are for fairy tales
what was perfect was always a little wrong.
and where she goes from here is still a mystery
but driving backwards isn't the way out.

if she had made you different, she'd be the one that changed.
she left you dying so you'd always be this way.
in heart she hated you.
but the memories hold all the truth
love is her misery. and your ghost will be her pain.

forgetfullness abounds!

ah yes....ye olde geezer from down the lane...
how could i have forgotten to end the story of late?!? shame becomes me.

i have mentioned in length the ongoing issue with cap'n moron from down the street. i think the minority of the problem was the stress that i had to endure from Hummer barking...so much so that my body started re-producing that stress hormone that makes one fat...not really...i just thought it would be funny to say that.

in fact...even with the shotty week i have endured, and the countless (read: 3) fast food meals i ate, including that really succulant salad from McDonald's, i'm still slightly withering away....this isn't any sort of exciting story for story;s sake, it just...makes me happy to look in the mirror and not be able to find myself quite as easily as i once had. maybe one day i can be so frail and feeble that i won't need to employ the use of mirrors at all simply because i will be so ghostly (or ghastly...) thin that i willn't be able to see an image in one anyway....[and so ends tangent #65821678]

and WHY isn't willn't a word that we use more often??? that is to suggest it's being a word in the first place....

so a few weeks ago, my friend came over to go out to dinner and to enjoy me in the usual way - which includes humiliating me in public, and laughing at me....eh...i am sheer entertainment ::yawn::

as he drove up to my house, he started waving at me psychotically to hurry up...not really sure why he was in such a rush other than maybe he was super hungry i don't know...
but as i jumped in the car and waited for him to finish making fun of me for having two pairs of sunglasses on my head, he said "K, is THAT HIM!?!?!?" and directed to the side of the house where the old man was shuffling by.

YEA!

so B pulls his truck-thing halfway down the street, 3-point turns, and parks it about 4 houses away and waits....

when i am not home, Hummer stays in the parlor which is the front-most room of the house, and he simply sits at the window and watches the world rush by. at this point in my life i came to the harsh realization that he isn't waiting for me to come home, but rather, he sets up shop waiting for that mean old man to walk by.

to wit: as soon as the man got to the front of the house, he stood in the yard screaming and barking and waving his cane and his free hand at hummer.

and that was all it took to piss B off.
B is pretty scary guy. he is really tall and has super broad shoulders and long jet black hair, and well...i think if he were at six flags and was getting a characature of himself done, it would be an ape...or a gorilla playing the drums using small people, elephant tusks, or...a large tree as drumsticks...or something equally as...gruff (?)

does that paint a picture for you??

so he throws his truck in drive, flies to the curb next to the man, and jumps out screaming

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!?!?!"

old man: "huh?...eh....wha?.....ugh...I..I...I"

b: "why are you antagonizing that dog?!?"

old man: "wha-"

b: "does that dog live at that house???"

old man: "i dunno..."

b: "how do you NOT know?!?!!?" he is INSIDE of that house!"

old man: " ::blink blink:: "

b: "leave the dog alone! mind your own business!"

old man: "well...he was barking!"

b: "OF COURSE HE WAS! YOU ARE HARASSING HIM!!!! GUH!! AND BECAUSE OF YOU! HE HAS MESSED UP MY WOODEN BLINDS!!! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! LEAVE THE DOG ALONE!"

basically that was it...
kind of boring now that i think about it, but at the time, i was slumped down in the passenger seat of B's car, and hiding my eyes...envisioning his son coming to the house and yelling at me for threatening his pops.

so, yea...no more old man annoyance.


[update: as i sit here writing this story, i hear hummer going MAD in the backyard...so i went out back to see if pops had made a liar out of me. nope. it WAS him walking by, but he didn't stop. didn't say a word to Hummer. didn't hit the fence. just kept on going. but Hummer still throws a fit when he walks by. moral of the story? you can teach an old man to act decent, but you still can't teach an old dog new tricks.....yea. i know...really cheesy...whatever...i can't always be fun.]

come here...oh...my star is fading.

i need a story.

i fear i am getting boring.

maybe more this weekend.

::shrugs::

time wounds all heals.

everything seems to have worked out swimmingly. very naughty friend stepped up to the plate and told a few white lies to make sure everything unfolded nicely, and i am safe.

thank gawd.

so i was left with the dilemma of...are we or are we not friends anymore? and after much diliberation (read: 2.5 minutes) i decided i wanted the two of us to be 'us' again.

so...we are.

bygohwns is bygohwns ya'll...

...we don't see each other much, anymore

things aren't great with me right now.
at all.
you want the short version or the long version? (please note: even the short version will be long)
i'll make it quick-like:

i was murdered yesterday. crucified. burnt alive. on a stick. that rolled around over a small match-book flame. nothing grandious about it except the pain.

you see, the one and only thing in my life that is worth any bit of importance might have just slipped through my fingers, and there was nothing i could do but watch it fade as i blew away...
i have spoken before about how i am a very spiritual person. i love the Lord more than anything. though i am not the person that will beat you on the head with my bible, at least know that in everything i do, God takes a stand.

i have sort of hinted at something big that was going to happen to me. you see, a month or two ago, i found a church that felt like home. i hadn't felt that in 3 years. and it was a bit funny how chronologically, everything landed in place. i decided to join the church, and the classes were the next week. i decided to try out for the worship team out of a congrgation of 45,000 people, i was one of the few that made it.

this is all that i live for; being in this praise team. not just so i can be on stage and sing in a mic and be recorded and seen by most of the metroplex. i don't care about that at all. what i am in it for is the joy i get with just hanging out with God. (i don't expect anyone to particularly understand this, just know that this meant more to me than anything entirely possible to man. it is what i wake up each day for. the only thing i have to look forward to right now as my life is on hold, and this is the only thing still working and moving in it.)

so in order to audition, i made the 1st cut, then i had to have background check done, and extensive essay type thing was filled out, and 4 character references were given.

yesterday, the email for character references was sent out to those 4 people.

for whatever reason, one person 'thought it was a joke' and wrote sexually lewd and provacative answers.

and sent it back to the church.

that's not the worst of it though...when i finally expressed to him that i felt that his joke was ignorant and immature, he basically told me that i was hurting his feelings and that it was my fault for asking him for a favor anyway and that he never wanted me to talk to him again.

....this is one of my dearest and best friends that i trust[ed] with every fiber in my being.

and now....not only did possibly lose the only thing that i hold on to in life,
i lost him, too.

i still can't decide which one is worse.

sibling revelry

today, i slept in until one. i hate sleeping in as it makes me feel as though i have wasted a day. and in turn, i feel as though i have wasted my life....
and so you can see where that leads; a day of sitting on the sofa watching movies to keep me feeling like a waste....and i am basically just a mess.

reason #09982374809 why i hate saturdays.

i made the mistake of watching 'sideways' while i was in this mood. yea...brilliantly funny my lazy lifetime wasted ass. when the credits rolled....i knew today was going to be horrible, being it was probably the most depressing movie i had ever seen.

then sean called. he invited me to go have dinner at my parents house and was so amazing to even call mom and dad to tell them to hold dinner for awhile to wait for me.

i don't know which is more odd: the fact that him doing that completely made my life worth living, or the fact that it made me cry.
i really am hyperemotional. it's quite ridiculous. and the only person in this world who has ever seen me this hyperemotional is A. i hide it from everyone else.

not that that really matters.

i think sean was so adamant on my being at the house when he was there because he just wrote a song last night. incredible song. pisses me off that he has that talent and i don't. but it is good jealousy, i think. it's the 'im so freaking proud that at least one of us is this awesome" kind of jealousy. this song he wrote made me cry again. (emotion overload, anyone? yes i'll take fourteen, thanks) but here is the reason why:

in my life, i have been prodigal. i have been given the world, and i blew so much away because i had this feeling that there was somehting i was missing. and i wanted to find it. when i did find it, it was nothing like what i had anticipated, and i realized what all i had lost in order to gain something that would leave me with nothing in the end.

that is what this song was about.

and the use of poetic devices in the lyrics totally rocked my world.
he's really getting good at this. and i am just so very happy that he wanted to share it with me.

i love my brother so much :)

Real LIfe Dialogue: Take One

k: dewd...everyone is pregnant. what's that all about?

ALF: eh..spring chickens.

k: i didn't get the memo...i feel left out.

ALF: we will probably end up being pregnant at the same time

k: ugh...that would suck

ALF: watch. you'll end up with a baby girl, and i will be stuck with a boy.

k: nah...we can trade.

ALF: good call.

annoyed

the ghost of you haunts my mind
lingers in memories
a lifetime i spent getting rid of you
and i store you in my dreams?!?

what a waste of emotion.
what a waste of breathe.
what a waste of time it took to make all of you go...
but still so much of you left.

deadly sin #4

Pride.

i got it today. pride. and i don't really regret it that much...which might make my sin deadlier, i dunno.

but i got to email the %&^ professor that failed me and kept me from graduating an email from my work offering my voluntary services to help her out.

you see, PDA, my office, has old stone samples from 20 years ago still hanging out in the corners of our suite. it is incredibly cramped with out dated stuff. now, if i worked for say...TLC doing a chinsy design show, i could use those old samples to make a smorgasbord of ecclectic interiors for like...no cost. and i could even make it look cool, AND classy. (i am just THAT good)
but, i don't (thank gawd) work for TLC and instead of budgeting cheap projects, i have to source finishes and furniture that are the most expensive because those are "better quality". who needs free flooring when you can have the most expensive slate cut to 48" x 48"....wait... you guys are bored with that talk. i'll save it....you are welcome.

ANYWAY, so the reason i got to email her was because we are looking to donate all the old stuff to the school's sample library for other interior design students to use for projects. i am a saint. and truthfully, it kind of feels good to know that i can help to better the other student's resources when i know how badly it is needed. bla bla bal

....point being, it was incredibly fun to email her with PDA email that shows point blank that i have a great. NAY! PHENOMENAL job. and my future is bright (from the outsider's perspective...although we all know that i fear i suck at this)

and a certain bit of satisfaction, okay a whole hell of a lot of satisfaction came from that.
...not to mention the part where all of my work to the bosses and to the real estate people is "professional" and "beautiful".

so...take that....hooker. BAM!

.................................................................................

in other news:
i have a roomate!!!!!

i can afford gasoline again!!!! YEAHHH!!!

he's a super cool guy. i think he and i should make good roommates, of course, i always make a good roommate...it's just...some of my past roommates were a little...not so great (this excludes ALF, of course. and don't ask her, she has no idea what she is talking about when she says i was a shotty roommate....no idea at all!)

he should be moving in within a week or so. more on that i'm sure.

:)

::sigh::

that was massively disappointing...

start with wine, end with cheese

in years of research (read: the past few weeks) i have come to find that there are 3 different types of subordinants:

those that hate their bosses completely as a boss, as a person, as a human

those that think their boss is a jerk, but could be an all around good guy playing golf or poker or something less, eh...work related

those that think their boss is a great guy and a great boss

i fall under none of those catergories. but instead of giving my hypothesis a negative theory, i will say that i am just weird or, more adequately, ignorant you see, my boss is an UPSTANDING boss. an INCREDIBLE person, but....i am not cliquing with him at all.

in fact, i feel kind of like a fish out of water around him. it scares me i am a strong person. i have a loud personality. and i am rarely uncomfortable around people. but i can't even complete a sentence around him. that could be because he sort of knows everthing so whats the use of me saying anything when he already knows it (note: that isn't sarcasm. the man is freaking brilliant. he runs every morning at 5 listening to mp3s of nonfiction books about...i don't know...malasia and....eh...the effects of the economy after the invention of sliced bread...or...something) which, the whole listening to recording fiction while running is GENIUS. with songs, you know that most songs run around 5 minutes. so you count how many songs you listen toin order to calculate time....but if you were listening to say...'He's Just Not That Into You' which is COMPLETE fiction, because...HE IS! that into me, DAMMIT! you lose track of time and you sort of run away from the idea of that book being truth. but i don't think that would be altogether healthy as i have difficulty NOT finishing a book in one sitting...can you imagine running for 3-10 hours in order to finish the book? YOWZAH!

...eh...where was i? ah yes. so i just feel as though i can't find my niche. i don't know if it is the industry or just this job, or life itself. but i have never felt so...completely misinformed and wrong about EVERYTHING in my entire life. and if i don't know something that an interior designer should know...like...what the hell is an mr16 bulb? i have to pretend to know, because asking warrants disgust from the bosses, and i can't take it.

i mean, i love my job. i love my bosses. and i think they may like me...or at least they are phenomenal actors, but i just fear that i will be fired as soon as one comes home from maternity leave. they always say you can tell when you are going to get fired ............well....crap. and it isn't like i don't kind of work hard. i mean, i do. but...for whatever reason, it isn't as smooth and perfect as working with the W. i OWNED that job. i rawked it. but here...i feel like a flopping fish...and not sure i will ever get it.

BUT! somedays there is a very itty bitty teeny small MODICUM! even, ray of hope for me. the other day i happend upon an accident while drawing elecations for a bathroom in the condo project i am working on. which was nice. bot bosses smiled and said "good job, k" and that totally made my day...i am so pathetic.

but one bathroom layout has an 8 foot wall that is completely bare and we were discussing that wall's possible uses, PD noted that a full wall mirror would be good as it was a guest closet and would give them a nice full lenth reflexion to get dressed in.

this wall happens to be opposite of the toilet.

i couldn't handle it. and without remembering that i am a fumbling idiot when it comes to speaking at work, i didn't have time to catch myself from saying:

"isn't that a little...eh...akward across from the toilet? i mean...you know..."

and PD just looks at me and says "no. not for me."

and N says "not for me"

and they ask me if that would be akward for me and i said "well, YES!!!"

to which i was chastized as i was told that the point of the toilet wasn't to stay on it that long, and that i should be reading a book anyway....

..........

has anyone had this conversation with their boss before?? it wasn't my favorite.

first off, i don't read on the toilet because i am NOT there that long, NOT that it is my employer's business anyway!

ick!

so, now i am wondering if i have a problem...AM i the only one that doesn't want to know that they look like while peeing?? that doesn't seem too particularly enlighting on self-image...you know?
i just...don't think anyone (thirself included) should know what anyone (theirself included) looks like while doing their thing.

please tell me i am not the only one with this opinion.

something's wrong when:

1. you enjoy doing crunches in the living room floor, in your mis-matched underwear, while watching 'Showgirls'.

did i mention?

that when you 'try' to help me.....
...i end up feeling helpless?

when you say it will be okay....
...i suddenly feel reckless?

doesn't sound so golden to make this deal with you anymore
equal opportunity just walked out the front door.

and i am winded....

full of promises

but they equal shit.
so yea, i am telling you that you are full of shit. get over it.

i am SICK of you saying you are only in this thing to help me. because the way i see it, you are con-ing me out of a lot of happiness. a lot of stress. and what for? so YOU can benefit down the road.

meanwhile...i sit screwed.

thanks. really. from the bottom of my heart.
for making me think, idiodically, that things are good...
that life will be successful and well managed...
that i can have a future that will be happy...
that i am important to someone...
that you are someone i can count on...
that you are someone that even gave a shit when i was down...

all of the problems i have are because of you.
maybe you should have tried a little less to be a part of my life.
i bet all of the money that i don't have that it would be a lot better had you left me alone in the first place.


just...damn you.


god...you even have the audacity to call me ungrateful. tell me ONE good reason i should thank you.

ONE!

i'll tell you plenty why i shouldn't. but that would take too long.
just know that when you say i can rely on you...that it won't happen and i will be punished for it. twice. yes, twice. once by default. and once by you, because i was naive enough to trust.

yea...i guess you are right. that is my fault.

but, i don't trust you anymore.

i just...wish i could screw you over, but then i would be the bad guy instead of the good.
and being beat down just looks better than beating someone else.

so...instead....just...damn you.

"I HAVE CHRONIC CONJUNCTIVITIS"

not really.
well, i might...

i slept last night with the window open. quite possibly not the smartest thing i have done as of late. you see, as you may recall, i have been sick. eh...so what. but thing is, it's the allergies.

the neighbor has a cottonwood tree.

i am allergic to cotton from cottonwood trees.

so...it pretty much snowed in my bedroom last night.

i really wouldn't know, though, as i can't unglue my eyelashes apart from all of the green goo that has joined the hairs by osmosis.

(i am texan....i like tall tales)

actually this morning it was a bit of an obstacle to open my eyes, as they WERE glued together by green goo, but as soon as i got into a mirror to look at the mess of my face, i saw this weird gel-like substance sort of floating in my eye. and there is no more whites of my eyes.

it's kind of gross.

the last time somehting like this happened i was a senior in high school and i went to school anyway. in Coach William's class, i decided it was the most opportune time to rest the eyes and have a little shut eye.

Coach Bill's didn't appreciate.

"mith cawtuh! why aw yew sweepeen in muh classwomb?!@?!@" (he had a speach impediment even though his wife was a certified speach therapist)

when i opened my eyes and he saw how blood shot they were, i was ordered to immediately go back to sleep.

gawd i loved high school.

although a few minutes later, i was still laughing at the fact that i was told go to sleep by my teacher during class, that i got in trouble for being awake.

that doesn't hardly seem fair, but....eh

point is, i look like i am sort of high on something with my eyes gooing and bloodey.

which will make for an interesting night out dancing i am sure.

or maybe not. yea probably not.

Like Donkey Kong

i am a generally nice person. i try to keep peace with people, i want to make people happy, i hide my feelings in order to keep some simblance of sanity in relationships, and i avoid confrontation and attempt to remain calm so that things are always an a rational level.

but sometimes, YO! to hell with it! i am not perfect, g.

(today would be that day)

i am sick. i am gross as i haven't showered in two days. i am grumpy because being sick is depressing. so all in all, i am a troll, ya' dig?

and as a troll, i don't want you walking 'cross my bridge, foo'. it don't matter what kind of a billy goat hood you came from.

[is it just me or have i morphed from suburban to straight up urban? must be that hip hop mtv i have been glued to for 48 hours. i can't seem to peel away from it.]

so i am chillin' on the couch today (yea i agree with you, the ghetto vibe has to be 86-ed. standby....) and the old man walks by actin' a foo' (okay that was the last time I SWEAR). and you guys know how i get pissed when he starts harrassing my perfect little son, yea?
but not just that. i really just didn't feel like listening to Hummer go insane for 10 minutes while i was watching P. Diddy's 'Making the Band', and i was at a crucial moment in the episode when Patti breaks down with her mom and the whole cancer battle, and i was crying on the couch with Patti, and then BAM! chaos on the block.

so i run to the back door call hummer.

nothing. keeps growling and barking and doing flips in the air. so i yell his name again.

and he ignores me again.

rightfully so, the 78 yr old grampy is growling at him through the fence, even with me yelling.

UGH THE AUDACITY!!!

so finally after calling Hummer 10 times, i lose it.

i gots all irish up in heyah, yo!

"DAMMIT BUSTER! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEAVE THE DOG ALONE I AM SICK OF YOU, SHIT!"

and with that, Hummer can sense i have lost it and comes running. i toss him in the front room of the house and i run outside to the front yard.

-let me just cut in for a minute here....i have been sick. i haven't bathed. i have mascara from tuesday camping out under my eyes. my hair is in a makeshift ponytail with most of it fallen out of the band, i am wearing a tank top with no bra and it isn't the cute kind of tank top with no bra look that say, Pamela Anderson can get away with. this is like....baggy 'i've lost weight but can't afford new clothes' no bra tank top look. and i was wearing pj pants with paint stains that are also way too big.... and i am barefoot.-

so i stand on the porch with a troll-like scowl, ready to defend the honor of my tribe.

and damn it all if i don't chicken out before pops can scoot his way around the corner. UGH.
so when i finally see him, i can't bare to be mean. so instead i just yell "ASS" and slam my door as hard as i can.

my house shook....

this house is new. we are talking HELLA sturdy here. and it swear i heard it say "ow" when i slammed the door. immediately i look through the peephole and old fart is just standing there dumbfounded.

dumbfounded.

HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO CLUELESS PAPAW!?!?!?!? SHEESH!

even though i turned out to be a coward, i still felt AWESOME about yelling at him through the fence, and i had to tell someone. so i told B. he always preaches to me that i need to go chew him out or call the cops. or shoot him. or something equally as...fun. but at least he is 100% on my side and humorous about it. i mean, seriously... can you see me trying to shoot?? i don't care who you are...that's funny.

but collectively we decided that walking behind grandad with Hummer's 'gifts' and tossing them at him all the way down the street isn't exactly sane....

but plan b is just as fun:

next time daddy-o barks at hummer, i am going to sneak out front and stand on the other side of the fence. as soon as ol-timer walks to the corner of the fence, i am going to jump out and start barking at him as loud as i can right in his face. all.the.way.down.the.street.

now this might look funny to passersby, but i am willing, for the sake and sanity of my impressionable, adolescent dog, to make a few sacrifices.

and i will continue to bark in his face all the way down the street until i get to the corner at which i will stop. stand up tall and firm and declare:

"how do you like it, Bitch?!?"

turn around,

and go back home.

health, and dreams of health

i called in sick for the second day in a row. i do feel better than yesterday, but i am not sure it is a good idea to go to work half sick to sit next to a woman that is 8 months preggers.

i am thinking about other people.

actually, yesterday i decided that if i ate something i might start to feel better. when i was a kid and sick, my mom always made grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken noodle soup. i wish there was someone to take care of me now that i am sick as an adult, but...i am all alone in this. so...i had to get dressed and go to the grocery store myself.

ugh.

anyway i was there for maybe 10 minutes. got bread, cheese, and chicken noodle soup and that was all. as i got to my car after i was finished, i felt like i had run a marathon and all i wanted to do was take a nap in my car.

that's frikkin' sad.

so as soon as i got home, i put the groceries on the counter and took a nap.

anyway, i had this dream last night that i was becoming a nurse and going through rotation for the first time. i was so excited. and as i would go into the patients rooms, i would get incredibly upset for them and cry. almost like i was taking on their sadness.

then i went into this girl that i new from college's room. her name was mitzie, and i found her increidbly annoying in college. she was one of those that if you laughed too loudly, she would get mad because she was trying to study. or if you had a lot of people in your dorm getting drunk late at night while underage, she would tell the RA and get you in trouble.

...on a sidenote, i remember my freshman year, while living in the dorm, my roomate RAE and her friend allison that looks just like david spade got this great idea to throw waterballoons out the window to people on the street.

their justification? it's hot outside, people are parched. we are helping the community.

but they have horrid aim and hit mitzie....so...we all got in trouble and had to pick up trash around the dorm for a week...and i don't recommend this to anyone, as i have seen enough used condoms that were lying on the grass for the entire human population to ever have to endure.

anyway....so in this dream, mitzie was one of my patients. as i walked into her room, she was alone in her hospital room, but someone had come and decorated it with christmas lights, and paintings, and draped gorgeous fabric on the walls and bed for curtains and the like.

and you could tell how much she was loved.

and i remember saying to my supervisor "i went to school with her. people really like this girl"
and i felt horrible for thinking she was a nerd and being annoyed by her. and so to see her there with so much love shown to her during her hospital stay, i just got sad. so i cried.

and got fired.

anyway, i woke up wishing i was her and not who i am. then maybe someone would go get my stinkin' soup for me.

eh...here's to being independent. bah!

never fails me.

"just know that the exact person you were how ever many years ago doesn't exist any more because she's been forever changed by life and circumstances and time, but God already knows exactly who you're going to be tomorrow or 20 years from now....and he's know that forever and the best way to find her is to seek God" -val

this isn't fun. i will be honest. i am having a bad night. and talking to val has not only made things more apparantly skewed, but also made everything crystal clear.

so if God forgives my past, why do i dwell in how sorry i am for it? why does it seem to paralyze me from obtaining this so-called future? why can't i just forgive myself?

like i said....i'm having a bad night.
but then she sent me this:

''I was regretting the past and fearing the future. Suddenly God was speaking:
'My name is I am.' I waited and God continued: 'When you live in the past, with
its mistakes and regrets, it is hard. I am not there. My name is not I was. When
you live in the future, with its problems and fears, it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I will be. When you live in this moment, it is not hard. I am
here. My name is I am.'" -- Helen Mellincost

Update

i haven't updated in a few days. i can't decide if that is because i am sick or if i just lack any sort of creativity. maybe both.

if i were in bed right now...which i am not. i think it would be my death bed i was on. but since i am sitting at the desk that my dad 'permanently borrowed' in the leather executive chair that he 'permanently borrowed' from one of his employers, i can't say that. so i will just say that i am really really really really sick. and when i am sick, i am gross. so please, no passersby the house today as i refuse to answer the door, as i have not the energy to put on a bra. i think you understand.

in other news. i was dumb enough to actually go work yesterday. in fact, i think that is why i am in the predicament i am in. i have been sick for a week now, but due to so many deadlines that i had to meet with various projects, i had to go to work. Monday i was feeling tops. yesterday i woke up with SARS. went home at 5, got to bed at 6 and woke up a few minutes ago.

12 hours of sleep!!! what!! i am in college again! i LOVE IT! Lord, please let it take longer to graduate this time, because although the real world is fun, it is a pay cut, since pops doesn't pay for everything now.

yesterday after lunch though i saw something rather shocking. Drive Thru Hobo has a job, folks.

yes. you heard me.

let me set up the scene here:

after i exit central expressway, and before i enter the 'hood, Dallas has this lovely way of masking the garbage that is my neighborhood with this goreous little street lined with huge oak trees and adorable apratments, stores, and the like.

so as you drive this street, the trees sort of overlap the road and it gives this really...um...pleasant(?) feeling. it's actually kind of pretty.

so i was driving through this yesterday after lunch when to what should my wandering eyes appear a man in a chicken costume (sans chicken head) with really nice sneakers walking around through the trees.

to see a man dressed as a chicken is one thing. but to see him with out the chicken head is really funny for whatever reason. as i pulled up closer, i realized it was the drive thru hobo. must have been on a lunch break. i gather this (and not that he just begged and borrowed a chicken costume from someone) later on as i drove home and saw that his job was to wave people off of the streets as a form of marketing rep for a chicken restaurant. (course, with the addition of the chicken head)

so. yea....that's all i have.