i, too, have feelings

to you.

2008-07-30T13:56:00.001-07:00

like a massive white wall that has years of grim and scuff-marks.
i stare at you in complete overwhelm thinking "this job is too great for me"
...someone of my stature.

i can't stand tall enough to paint your very tiptop.
to cover your scratches.

and you aren't my wall to fix anyway.
though offer suggestiong i might. if no one has the energy or the desire to make you shiney and new...it may never happen.

so we all stand here - my crew of critics and i - with furrowed brows, hands to our chin, tapping our feet.
knowing what needs to be done.
each of us wanting to fix this wall our certain way.
each of us knowing our way is the best.

but no one is as frustrated as i am that the wall just doesn't seem to paint itself.

i love what the wall was when it was first built.
i love what the wall - in my mind - is going to be when someone finally touches it up.

magic doesn't happen overnight, i guess. so i sit. wanting. aching. needing you to make yourself something i want to look at.

right now, i don't want to look at you.

it's biblical.

2008-02-01T09:25:00.000-08:00

i vaguely remember my mom taking me to one of those free clinics when i was younger. my memory is pretty fuzzy about the whole thing, because i tend to black-out bad memories (like 7th grade) so i can't really recall WHY we were at the clinic. maybe we were going because i was sick? she was sick? um...maybe it wasn't even a free clinic really...it may have just been in a bad part of town and LOOKED free what with all the crickets on the floor and the lack of english used in the lobbies....but whatever. i am trying to paint a picture here. just go with it.

in fact, let me embellish:

when i was little, i was dying of some rare disease so my mom took me to Juarez, Mexico to a free clinic...and the entire experience has scarred me for life. the rare disease, however...i can't recall...but the clinic. man...i won't forget that...

and that is pretty much how Duncan is probably feeling about me today. to save a few bucks, i decided to take him to the free clinic to get fixed. the local SPCA is literally 2 miles from my house, and i live in a really nice area...so...i don't know what i was thinking...that this place would be a palace? They charge pennies to snip his marbles off and i thought we would be greeted with champagne and those fancy dog biscuits from those silly dog stores that are in Snider Plaza? sometimes i wonder why i don't think things through properly.

have you ever been to the spca? it's....dirty. and smells of cat urine and pain. you can hear 75 little dogs screaming from the back rooms and the cats. my god...so many cats....

Duncan knew something was up because he started getting sick in the car on the way to the SPCA. i fully believe that little goblin can read my mind, and he knew i was about to deceive him royally. And when we walked into the dog/torture chamber, i could feel him begin to hate me...much like i fictionally hated my mother for taking me to that fictional free clinic in mexico.

i have become increasingly overdramatic in the recent years. i don't know if it is for shock-value or entertainment sake so much, but i get so squeamish these days and also i have such VIVID dreams...so i realize what i say here is as 100% ridiculous as it sounds, but i am worried. like...motherly worried. i dreamt last night that christopher made me electrocute Duncan and so today when i handed him over to the SPCA, i began to worry about all sorts of things:

1. what if they accidentally put him up for adoption?
2. what if he becomes crippled?
3. what if he is sick tonight and i have to stay home and not go to that party i was so looking forward to going to?
4. what if the teeth bleaching stuff i use makes my teeth permanently sensitive?

But mostly, like my lack of memory of my fictional rare fatal disorder, i wonder if Duncan is going to miss his boy bits when he chases his tail from now on.....

2008-01-23T14:46:00.001-08:00

when i was 22, i dated an older guy. i am giong to be 100% honest here...he was 13 years older than me. i was 22, he was 35. i was still in college, and young, and carefree, and my chest was pert, and i could live on 3 hours of sleep. he was...old. and liked 80's music. and drove an old car that smelled funny. and wore tapered leg jeans (when i first met him).

i always used to tease him about being old. jokes about alzheimers and hip-fractures, and osteoarthritis, and the like were in my daily repetoire. he was good about it. mostly because i am so delicious...and it never really seemed to hurt his feelings but moreso just made him laugh. it was fun.

we went to six flags together once. we took his then-13 year old neice and one of her buddies with us. that was interesting. because i was somewhere in between the two. in fact, i was closer to their age bracket. and he was out of the loop...or so i thought.
at one point, when we were arguiing about music or somesuch, the friend of the neice said to me and the boyfriend "whatever....that's because ya'll are OLD NEWS" because we didn't like the same kind of music that they like.

i didn't take the old man joke as well as he did. mostly because this was the first time in my entire life that i was the butt of the old-person joke, and it didn't feel good. it made me feel....wrinkly. besides, HE was old news! not me! i was merely 22! he was old enough to be my father, too (which would be really really sad....but whatever...you CAN procreate at 13, i think.) why were these girls teaming up on me? why was i not the uncle's cool girlfriend? why was i just the fuddy duddy? this is an OUTRAGE!!!!!!!

and from that day forward, i have had a complex about being "old news". it's an idea that creeps up on me almost daily when i am in my car. because i still don't like the music that some of the 13 year olds are listening to.
my favorite station used to be the edge. it was alternative rock. it was the radio station people were allowed to cuss on.....but one day somewhere in between 22 and 26 that changed, i started tuning into mix. the music of the 80s 90s and today...

and most recently, i have found myself really depreciating agewise when i listen to the likes of the Lite rock station and the ::gasp:: oldies. (in my defense, i do NOT call music from my childhood oldies, thank you very much)

but when i would rather listen to the fuddy duddy stations instead of the cool pop stations like all the hipsters, it gets me thinking...have i become the old fart that doesn't evolve with the styles and the tastes of today but instead stays stuck forever in my favorite time-period?

have i become the older boyfriend?!

but then something lovely happened. The alternative rock station started magically playing good music again. and even though it is the exact same tune that i can hear on the oldies station or the lite rock station....the station that is broadcasting my favorite music is the edgy young station.

and all of a sudden, i am back in the loop.

i am missing something.

2008-01-11T12:03:00.000-08:00

when i get to heaven, i will need to have a few words with God. i imagine most people have a laundry list of things they want to go over with the big boss, so this isn't so much a new concept, but...i feel like voicing my opinions loudly on a grand scale about one certain topic that has been weighing on my mind:

wisdom teeth.

why?
WHAT FOR?
is there some greater purpose in God's will for wisdom teeth other than what we know about them?
is there something that we humans are missing?

a few months ago, some nicely dressed cute guy waltzed into my office and caught me on a good day. he was selling teeth whitening packages. after flirting for a few minutes, he convinced me and mom to buy them. it was a good deal, so why not. the kicker was i had to go to a certain dentist to get the whitening. so what?

my appt with this new dentist was on monday. everything was normal. the office smelled of fluoride and fear...i took xrays, had my teeth cleaned, checked for cavities and was told that it was high time that i get my wisdom teeth removed.

which, i knew. i mean....it's obvious that something has gone terribly awry when your gorgeous teeth have erupted little teethlings in the back of your mouth that are black. BLACK. i know. gross.

as i was checking out and making an appt to pick up the teeth whitening trays for next week, i was asked if i wanted to have my wisdom teeth extracted that afternoon. wow. so fast. and we just met....of course i wanted it done. better now that never...or worse, better now than to wait until my teeth COMPLETELY rot.

when given a quote for the cost of extraction from the receptionist of $863.00 i started laughing. i have insurance that is supposed to cover this sort of thing and my cost would STILL be more than a new sofa? um....i'll take the new sofa.

i strictly remember chickening out about 4 years ago from getting my teeth removed when i didn't have insurance and my cost was going to be 700 dollars. so how...in four years....did the cost quadruplify? it was time for research, ya'll. and those of you who know me well know how much i loooooove to research nonsensical things.

i called a previous dentist, gave them my insurance info and asked for a quote. 500 bucks. which was a heck of a deal compared to the other, so i took it. made the appt for tuesday.

i actually did really well on the day of "surgery" i had the dentist hook me up to the elephant nose thing, and i giggled away hugging my knees as they did the surgery. it was all pretty scientific, too. (especially when i got home and started drilling on my old teeth to see what a cavity smells like when you cut a tooth in half...)

the fun part? the cost ended up only being $180 dollars. apparantly, the OTHER dentist decided to tell my insurance that my two bottom teeth would have to be carved out even though they were fully "erupted" (that's dentist-speak) because their extraction was coded as a more invasive procedure, my insurance would only cover 50%. At the GOOD dentist, they coded my procedure correctly and the insurance covered 80%. PLUS they are about 50% cheaper in the first place. PLUS PLUS this dentist has a contract with my insurance agency which gave me an even BETTER dicsount. weeeeeeeee.

i saved almost 700 bucks by driving to mesquite instead of using a fancy pants plano DDS. Smart move on me!

So...i went out and bought a new sofa. :)

17 days

2007-11-19T12:22:00.000-08:00

I am having surgery in 17 days. I'm pretty excited about it all. And most people don't know about it yet. Which is OK. it's no one's business but mine, my husband's, my doctor's, and....my bank's. :)

It will be exciting to post about it once it happens and I start getting better.

healthy sounds good. it's a concept i have never really known anything about. so i am interested in what it will be like. :)

totally

2007-11-06T09:31:00.000-08:00

i just got off of the phone with Reservation Rewards. for those of you that don't know, Res. Rew. is that lovely company linked to many many online shopping sites (Fandango.com Chadwick's, lillian vernon, um....red envelope, etc) that SUCK.

they are con-artists like woah.
in fact, about 4 years ago, i bought something for someone off of some website and got a little option at the bottom of the webcart thing that asked if i wanted coupons for later purchases. and who WOULDN'T want a short email with coupons for online shopping? I;ll tell you who: AMERICA.

They get you good, guys. and if you are like a lot of people, you don't pay particular attention to most of your statements in the mail and you MISS out on the 10$ that is automatically being deducted each month in order for you to receive an email about coupons.

Fancy.

So 4 years ago, i caught this after 1 deduction and i immediately called and was refunded my money.
Fastforward to today. i am checking out my dad's bank account for several reasons:

1. i am nosy.
2. this is essentially MY MONEY, too, because when i kill off my dad, it will be split between me and sean.
3. i am on his account still from when i was in high school 100 years ago, and i have access, so...why not?

and i noticed that he and mom (and...for all intents and purposes, me and sean) are being charged 10 bucks a month for coupons that go to the spam folder of someone's email account.

so...because this is MY money we are talking about, i pretended to be mom and i called the company up and said things like "UNCONSITUTIONAL" and "BETTER BUSINESS BUREAU" and "LAWYER!" and "BULLSHIT!!!!"

but mostly...i got to use the word unconstitutional, which was altogether awesome and worth every penny of the 10 bucks a month that has been coming out for God knows how long. And you know..that IS a really really strong word. it's amazing what someone will do for you if you say "unconsititional". i bet i could go to the moon if i complained to someone with enough power about the idea of only astronauts getting to space travel being unconstitutional.

i dare you to try it sometime today. or in the future. if you are pissed at someone. or you are calling customer service somewhere. or you are trying to get someone that was at a stopsign before you to freakin GO, already....shout to them about your feelings of the constitution and i totally bet you will get your way.

cause i got a full refund and i didn't even really have to work hard for it.
which is good.

although working hard for full refunds makes for better stories usually.
dammit. that is unconstitutional!!!!!

my husband, the biggest loser, cereal, and this weekend.

2007-08-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

i love morning-time. i am home alone...the sound of 6 alarms going off...and a HUGE no...

GARGANTUAN!!!!!!!!

bowl of cereal while i play on the internet freely. it's veddy nice.
this morning, however, my cereal-internet-alone-alarmclock-time was interrupted by c who calls to say "have you ever seen the show 'the biggest loser'?"

now. let's preface this...c HATES, LOATHES, SHAKES WITH FURY at tv, let alone realty tv shows...and i of course know exactly what he is talking about when he asks if i know the show...but i was so interested in what he was getting at (and entertained) that i felt compelled to lie.

"no. what is that?"
"its a reality tv show where people get together and try to lose weight and diet and excersize and who ever loses the most, wins! it's a really cool show"
".....how did you hear about this?"
"so and so from work! he says his wife loves it, and that he has watched it a few times and it is really down to earth and a good show..."
"...ok"
"...so, they are having auditions in dallas..."
"you want me to go on tv and tell the whole world that i am fat?! i wanted to keep that a secret"
"nooooo. i want you to go on tv so america can fall in love with you!"
"honey, america wouldn't fall in love...they would realize what an evil bitch i am"
"that's the other option.."

i explained to c how difficult it would be for me to spend 6 weeks or whatever length of time being fake and pretending to be lovely, and how that would take a toll on who i am as a person, and would really go agaist everything that i hold dear:

cussing
eating big bowls of cereal
walking around naked
picking my nose
yelling at people
being lazy
and, of course, vindication.

and so...he is going to find out more about auditions.

........

wow...what a mess

2007-08-19T20:03:00.000-07:00

so the house was re-tiled, finally. almost exactly one year since the tile eruption began, finally someone got off of their tooshie and chose to fix the problem. yay, and things.

because of the extensive gutting of the house that would take place, c and i pretty much obliterated the living areas...piled EVERYTHING into the guest room, office, and parlor...and turned our bedroom into a hotel...complete with wireless internet and incredible sheets. (for a hotel anyway).

one week and 2 weeks and 3 days later....the after-shock of the tile experience is still being felt...everytime i need to run to the ladies...and remember that the guest toilet is now making it's happy home in the bathtub...and also everytime i stub my toe on a baseboard that wasn't ripped off ofthe wall complete and juts out 6 inches.

and there is that whole random black smudge of a handprint every once in a while...on the walls. and ceiling. (which makes sense to me,too. i mean..get new flooring and a gratuitous handprint on you 15 ft ceiling. it's valid)

not to mention the bit where the front door no longer has a working threshold because the genius' broke three screws IN the slab and were not able to re-install that either...

it was pretty annoying that when i tried to hook my computer back up in the office after we started moving things back to their places..that not only is my computer on the verge of (another) crash....it no longer is powerful enough to have a conversation with the modem. so...we bought a new computer for me. (and...well...c got one too...which...is a whole 'nother story, really)

so now that i am completely up and running (save for the bathroom, the walls, the threshold, and the baseboards...) i uploaded images of the fun:

the BEFORE:

and, the AFTER (well..the after before the real after...):

and yes. that IS a wall-mount 42" flat screen tv hanging about a lovely west elm media unit.

i, too, am disappointed.

2007-08-13T09:07:00.001-07:00

2007-07-10T09:25:00.000-07:00

mom and i took a trip to south louisiana last weekend. it was sort of impromptu as we we didn't even make the plans to actually go there until, i guess....monday.
but, as i drove c to the airport on thursday morning (at, a-hem 3 am...) i was also on my way to Louisiana!

we started out the trip with the sole intention our touring antebellum homes around river road in between baton rouge and new orleans. but other acticities included (but were not limited to):

- driving down small country roads through the swamps of louisiana.
- talking to a creole swamp man about katrina and oak trees
- touring the ninth ward of new orleans
- making out with creole men (mom was kissed by one....)
- looking at tigers
- chasing down motorcyclists
- stealing sugar cane
- getting my mother drunk at 11 am on mint julips.

a good point was brought up to us while we were on the trip by a friend we made named judy.
she explained to us that the sugary southern draw from, say, georgia...was merely a drawn out version of a british accent.
as she demonstrated her theory, i asked her if she could speak in a cajun accent, to which she then explained that cajun and creole accents are simply french accents that are drawn out.

if i could type it out to show you, i would....but it doesn't really work i don't think. i suppose for giggles, i could try....

british: "why darling, i do declare!"
southern: "why dahlin' i dooooo declayah!"
french: "wee wee, ah gahwantee you weel love theez!"
creole: "weyew nah, ah gayrontee yeh weel luuuuve this!"

yea that doesn't exactly work...
but if you try it out loud....say somethin in british out loud, then slow it down and draw it out. tell me that isn't southern! and the same for the creole.

anyway, i decided that this meant that the thick texas accent was really spanish accents drawn out, but i have no idea how to test this hypothesis....

Bridaled Tales: The Day of Reckoning

2007-04-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

I am so busy. busy busy busy. what am i doing? absolutely nothing. i have spent a lot of time lately cooking. and tending to christopher. this whole "new marriage" bit brings out the TOTAL betty crocker in a girl. (it's kinda funny. i haven't been this domesticated since....kindergarden when my next-door-neighbor, John John, and i played doctor....)and oh. also...last night, i spent the entire evening prancing around in an apron that an aunt gave me as a wedding gift in my panties and high heels.

that was pretty fun.and also incredibly time-consuming.

anyway. I need to finish my series of uninteresting - no one cares but me and possibly my mom - blogs about the past few weeks. and not because i want to gush about wedding and brides and flowers and ruffles, but mostly because i have this lovely obsession with seeing the funny in everything. (the "fun" in fun krista came from somewhere!)

so. on a female's wedding day. the typical thing that they do is wake up early. get a massage. maybe a pedicure. or a facial. have a bridal breakfast....or lunch...or brunch...either way, it's only fruit and water for the bride! don't want her to get sick or bloated. or fat!!! afterwards, they put on a cute little white jogging suit that says "the bride" in silver glitter on the back to wear during the wedding preperations. go get their makeup done by a pro. their hair done by a pro. then all their grandmothers and aunts and girlfriends and gay friends stand around and squeal in delight at how beautiful she is. after all, it is HER day. everyone sucks up. kisses up. lies to. compliments. and dotes on a bride on her day! she is a princess! a queen! a budding flower in the spring breeze! she is THE BRIDE!!!!!!

bla bla bla.

on MY wedding day. i declare that i fully intend on sleeping late. if anyone wakes me up, i will promptly slit their achilles tendons. around 10:30 (hey it's late for me ok?) i slowly roll out of bed...trip down the stairs. crawl into my parents room where they were still in bed, too. by this time i am totally wiped out and in need of a nap from all the work of waking up, so i crawled into bed with them like i did when i was 5, and fell back to sleep.
when i woke up again, i asked mom to make me biscuits and gravy for breakfast. complete with scrambled eggs, bacon, and a HUGE glass of chocolate milk (extra chocolate).when i had eaten so much i was sick (and sleepy) i took another nap. hey. the rule is it is my day, right? around 12:30 or so, i took a quick shower. and with wet hair and baggy jeans a nasty tank top (no bra) and dirty flip flops. i make my way to get my hair done.

and...well...that was sort of it.we put on make up, our dresses, and bam. it was time to go. no aunts. no grandmas, no moms, no gay men, nothing just me and my three girls Lish, Gayle, and Bekah.

easy enough.

i won't talk about the part where i sort of went off the deep end. i mean...in MY defense, it only lasted for like...3 minutes. but i did turn into a dragon. (and i am quite embarrassed about it) mostly i was just hot. you know how we irish people are. our blood is comprised of 76% beer, and everyone KNOWS how horrible hot beer is.

NASTY.

anyway...lalala wedding is over. [brother] sean did a great job with the ceremony. it was cute having my brother be the guy to marry us. in fact...i would go so far as to say that his sermonette and his message was beautiful and personal and i truly was touched by the effort he put into the wedding.

i think sean even cared more about it all than i did. that and my sister in law, christi who did all the florals. they worked HARD. all i did was invite a crap load of people that didn't show up or RSVP tell someone to bring food. someone else to bring a cake or some sort. tell a guy to play some songs (whichever he wanted to pull out of his bag of tricks would be fine with me) and then i showed up to the wedding.
i felt like since everyone says it is MY day that i shouldn't have to work too hard, right? :)
so all in all, i think the wedding was one big happy accident. i just booked some people. gave them each other's numbers for them to work out details. told people what time i was going to be there to let them decide when they wanted to be there.

and it all worked out without a hitch. and this TOTALLY proves my theory that i am awesome. i don't need aunts and grandmas and moms and cousins, and neighbors, and make up artists to tell me how wonderful i am. i already know that i am a princess! a queen! a flowering bud in springtime!

i am, afterall, THE KRISTA!!!!!

Bridaled Tales: Shouldn't we rehearse this more?

2007-04-03T20:08:00.000-07:00

bri·dled [ brid'l'd ] - transitive verb exercise control or restraint: to show restraint in expressing a feeling or control in curbing something.

not that i intend on showing restraint in all details of the wedding and the "happily everafter". that isn't what i mean at all. what i mean is simply this: i am not overtly girly. (shocker, i know) so the part where i am getting married is estroginally anticlamactic. i restrained the cliche brideness. so much like a horse wears a bridle to restrain it from...whatever horses are supposed to be retrained from...i am BRIDALED in that i was pretty much...meh about the whole thing.

well...mostly.

or not at all. i just needed a catchy title and that is all i had. deal with it.

so. without further ado! i present to you
the Springstead (or stud. or steed. or "boss" for those of you really clever people that thought of such geeeeeenius nicknames. blah) Wedding AND HONEYMOON delite! weee:

The rehearsal:
Friday before the wedding on march 23rd was the rehearsal. Lish spent the night and we woke up fairly early to go to the pet shop and buy 19 fish. i had to exersize a LOT of willpower in order not to make a smart remark to people when they looked at us like we were monsters and asked why we needed so many fish.

my preferred answers?

"Sushi dinner at my house and this is cheaper than Central Market"
"We have an underground gambling facility and this weekend we didn't have any fighting dogs, so we are getting these bettas to host Fish Fights and bet on which fish will eat all the others"
"I am going to put them in my bird bath in the backyard to attract tropical birds"

which...really none of those jokes are funny. but it isn't anyone's business why i was buying that many japanese samauri fighting killer fish. well...that and i felt stupid saying "i am getting marrrrieeedddd. and these are going to be our centerpieces" because that is so ultra giddy and gross. and it is akward when some woman that is going through a divorce says to you "oh congratulations" with absolutely not one ounce of delight in her voice and it's so uncomfortable.

in fact. i haven't been much for announcing to strangers that it is a wedding that i have been buying a lot of stuff from. mom and i were flirting with the kinko's boys while printing the programs and they finally asked whose wedding we were making them for. when mom told them it was mine, they didn't believe her.

that says one of two things:

you couldn't POSSIBLY be a bride. you are so ew. like a dude would want to shack it up with you. ack!
i am good at not being in a total panic toward everyone i meet and i don't scream at people and make scenes about "MY WEDDING" and such.

for the sake of my own small amount of esteem, i will opt for #2. because it says "hey this girl has it together. she isn't stressed over a dumb $700 cake, or silly flowers. she is more interested in going home and playing nintendo and not acting like a stupid girl with waaaay too much hormonal issues for anyone to want to have to be in the same room with her. lucky dude who is marrying her"

maybe?

anyway. so. we bought the fish. immediately picked up her man, nick, from the airport. poor guy. it's his own fault that he was subjected to pre-marital female bliss. afterall, he DID say within the first 10 minutes of seeing us "i am at ya'lls mercy i will do what you tell me to".

being the kind thoughtful caring women we are, we automatically took him to the salon and forced him to wait while we had our nails done.
...which was equally as annoying when the word "Wedding" popped out. there is nothing like having 5 asian women with very thick accents squealing "OOOH WE MAKE BOOTIFEW! HUDBUN SO HOPPY YOU MWWY HAM! WE GIVE WEDDING SPESHEW!!!"

so i got the wedding special. whatever that is. (i think it is something along the lines of "we do the exact same thing we always do for you and then we take your friend to the back and massage her legs and arms and give her the full body treatment when you aren't looking and then charge you over $100 dollars for having some lady shave the bottoms of her feet while you sit there and listen to your manicurist exclaim how 'tewibull' your nails look")

basically that was it.. the preparations were over. when we got back to the house to take showers and get dressed, we had exactly 1 hour to be ready. i was ready in precisely 59 minutes. i walked out of my room with purse in hand and shouted "ok lets go!!!" to see lish standing in the bathroom with soaking wet hair and no makeup.

nice.

so. that mixed with traffic...we were 45 minutes late to the rehearsal. and walking in everyone started at me and i wanted to spit on someone because i HATE that sort of attention when i feel bad in the first place for wasting people's time....and it was just...akward. and the questions. ugh. you would think that the title "Bride" came with a built-in encyclopedia! people asking me things that there is no way i could possibly every know! i mean...i may have planned the wedding all by myself, but how in the heck am i supposed to know when the caterer is bringing the cake to the venue?!?! call them! ask them! and how am i supposed to know what the guitarist is playing! call him! ask him! and why would anyone think i would know what time to be at the museum before the wedding starts?!?! i just booked the place! i didn't write the bible on it!

jeez. you would think people thought i got married for a living. this WAS my first time. gosh! :)

so i got in a typical "krista mood" at this point. the one that lish says "oooh you have that look again". apparantly. my eyes get really big and i get really quiet and i clench my jaws and then i start turning green. and fangs form out of my mouth and i grow a forked tongue.

i got over it fairly quickly. made it throughout the night without any masacres or murders to add to my list....we checked into our ridiculously priced oversize hotel that c and i would stay at the next night after the wedding (and being the design snob from hell that i am, i think i may have been enamored with the hotel had it been...i dunno...1986. but is isn't. so i wasn't. it was just OK)

and just like a puppy when i get stressed, or mad, or hot, or hungry, or upset, or comfortable, or cold, or excited, or inquizitive, i sleep. so at 10 o'clock, i was dead to the world laying on my mom's lap on her sofa while she and dad entertained lish and her boyfriend as i snored.

wow. i am so fun it kills me....

to be continued.

thank god i am humble.

2007-02-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

i am going to write a book.
i have decided. this summer.
it will be about me. because afterall, god has blessed me with the gift of pride, so i should use it before he takes that gift away!

:)

but the details are top-secret. i don't want any of you snakes trying to jack my grand ideas.
but all i know is that i have a dream of being a total and complete narcissist and now is the time for that dream to come to fruition!!!!

blessings.
amen.

diet food, high fives, and fortunes.

2007-02-20T13:55:00.000-08:00

"what do you want for lunch today?"

"i want a fat steak" was my answer. what's so wrong with that? i have 31 days until i get to sit half naked in tahiti, and i want to look as protein-enriched as possibly.
[read: i am doing atkin's because that is a nice fast unhealthy and horrible way to drop 15 lbs FAST]

dad scrunched his face as though he completely disapproved of my choice. for the past 3 weeks i have wanted to get steak for lunch but he always wants stinkin el fenix.

"what's your beef with steak, dad? why do you hate it all of a sudden? i thought you were a MAYN. Aren't men supposed to love big chunks of flesh?"

"i am trying to lose weight" he says.

well, duh. that is my intent, too. just...he wants to do it the right way....you know...diet....exercise...
OVERRATED.

so considering dad not wanting steak, and my not wanting mexican food, and the ultimate goal of losing weight in our own little ways, we opt for the obvious:

Chinese Buffet.

although, that was a great choice for me because i have this will poewr thing that i found while on a church retreat last week...so i was able to get a small plate of various versions of grilled chicken and beef and broccoli...
dad was able to do his version of diet which included those little donuts things, egg drop soup, egg rolls, rice, different meats, some sort of orange stuff, and ice cream with two cookies and a banana covered in some sort of sauce....

so we are both happy. :)

the couple in the table next to us couldn't speak english and they had a little boy that was whining and crying the whole time apparantly wanting jello. but i can't tell because i didn't do so well in spanish in high school. all we did was color.

as the couple left, the little kid ran over to me and held up his hand for a high five, so i high fived him. then he held up his fist in a "sweet dude" fashion, so i bumped his fist and said "seweet dude" (that's what you are supposed to say when bumping fists you know) and then he ran off.
and that was it.

our entire conversation.

i was still laughing about it when the waiter brought out fortune cookies and i opened mine (didn't eat it) and read the fortune:

"universal communication is found in a smile"

but i disagree entirely. i didn't smile at that boy. he didn't smile at me, yet we had an entire conversation without words. so confuscious was wrong when he wrote my fortune,but i think he is a fraud. because where i come from, the universal language is found in a high five and "sweet dude".

I wanna go home

2007-02-13T21:34:00.000-08:00

For three weeks...or has it been more than that? I have been living out of a suitcase at my parent's house. I haven't even been able to decide which room I want, so all of my clothes are sort of....scattered across the entire upstairs.

And isn't that how a female that is OCD and a control freak should live? With socks in the study, panties on the pool table, coats in the bathroom floor, and wedding dresses scattered between 2.5 bedrooms?

In the past 2 months, I have called 4 bedrooms mine. That isn't normal. but the worst of it is that those 4 bedrooms have been inside of only 2 houses.

I keep my toothbrush in a laundry basket, jewelry in my purse, shoes in my car, and well...it's a crapshoot where everything else is. Currently i can't even find lotion, and i moved in here with like...18 bottles.

After mistaking a roach for dead and having it spring to life all over my barefoot this morning while i was trying to pick it up with tissue, i started to get the idea that maybe i was ready to kick christopher out of my house and go back home. Honestly. i shouldn't have to live in squalor. i am an educated top heavy female. i should have servants!

but nooooooo. he is the one that actually has ONE closet. ONE bed. ONE bathroom. (and a nice one at that) and i get...a daybed that is too short, and the ability to whine and bitch and moan for apporximately....49 more days.

wait.

i get to whine? this is an AWESOME deal! rock on with your bad self soon to be husband/roomate. sleep alone while you still can. i will hop from bed to bed to bed for the next month and a half and you can't stop me! MWUAHAHAHAHAHAH Yes, bedroom i am cheating on you!

roll over, empty shoe box and pile of coat hangers. those sheets have been cold far too long!
but man...this bed is uncomfortable.

bok-bok

2006-12-26T13:41:00.000-08:00

i was driving back to work after my lunch today and got stuck in traffic. dallas and the bloody highways..sheesh. if i wasn't properly medicated, i don't think i could take much more of the driving hazards in the metroplex...

luckily, the back-up wasn't really on my side of the highway, it was going the opposite direction, i was just stuck behind rubber-neckers. and...there were chickens...everywhere.
downtown dallas.

hi.

chickens.

seems a truck carrying live birds to the pilgrim's pride plant downtown jack-knifed and flipped over leaving the little guys scrambling all over the highway.

kinda funny, really.

what?

2006-12-07T20:08:00.000-08:00

i have noticed a trend.
to be a girl - to have these...emotions....
is to be
completely.
and.
totally.
nuerotic.

estrogen should NOT be served in pill form.
because seriously. this stuff is BAD on humans. or mans. or whatever.

i was watching LOST yesternight, and the doctor, Jack, was pissed because some chick that he loves is a convinct and she is in love with this conman who was dying because some unknown, unseen person shot him while he was floating on a raft in the middle of the south pacific and so she kissed him, but then ran away from him to go find some horse and so in his despair he went back to the beach where he saw the girl from the airport bar that used to be a cop, but was fired by her mother when she shot the guy who shot her while she was on duty and killed her baby and nobody likes her on the island anyway because she shot the commmunications officer from the republican guard who was dating the tori spelling-esque rich girl whose step mom wouldn't give her any of her dead father's money so she slept around for cash and then fell in love with him, but then she thought she saw the boy that was on the raft with the conman in the middle of the jungle and he was covered in slime...or water...or slobber...or some..thing...and so she went chasing after him with his dog and the iraqi trailing behind trying to save her from hurting herself like her brother was hurt when he got into his second plane crash for the month while trying to talk on the radio, but really he was only talking to the chick that was in the bar with jack in the first place, and she thought he was a bad guy so she turned the radio off and threw some other guy into a big hole and....well...she shot the now poor rich girl who was in love with the arab guy and that is when they took jack to her and jack was like "holy crap it's you" and everyone hated her but him, and i think he is going to fall in love with her now because the convict is in love with the conman and since he is a main character, it is only OBVIOUS that he has to be in love with someone, and the chinese lady is married, the shrink loves the crazy fat dewd, the black woman is married to the old white guy, and all that is left really is the ex-cop crazy ho murderer.

so the obvious thing for him to ask is..."are all women this crazy"

jerk.

yes.
and we have all seen that email that circulated on the internet a few years ago that said:

girls = time and money
time = money
money = the root of all evil
money = the square root of evil.
so if time = money. then money = money
so girls = the square root of evil x's 2
so girls = evil.

haha. laugh it up.

yes. i am crazy.
and...i don't feel well today.

2006-11-16T19:54:00.000-08:00

i was at walgreen's yesterday picking up some sort of oinment and bandage for the MASSIVE burn that i have on my arm from the time i tried to iron.

i am an advocate believer and practicing fanatic of the "fluff".
get that bloody iron away from me. give me a dryer and some electricity and 5-10 minutes and let the laws of gravity affect the wrinkles in my slacks.

anyway. a girlfriend of mine came to town a few weeks back. she was having a rough one, and i spotted her for the weekend. i tried to offer sanity to her...she drove me insane...and we sort of balanced each other out. while i tried on wedding dress no less. (ACK)

anyway. i checked the mail the other morning for the first time in several weeks. there was a little not in the box from her simply thanking me for the weekend. when in truth, i was a bit afraid the weekend was lame. we didn't do much except try on wedding dresses.
well....that....and then with the estrogen overload that we received from the bridal shop, she and i agreed upon a steak and a beer.

okay i totally forgot about that. it was awesome. we were SO SICK of seeing ruffles and bras and girls crying that almost as though we could read minds we both announced that what we wanted was a big football game, a fat beer, and a giant slab of meat on a plate with a dull knife and a crooked fork to eat it with.

so we went to some regular restaurant, set up shop at the bar. and ordered drafts.
i felt like such.a.dude. and i loved it. the waiter looked at us as if we were insane when we ordered. two hot chicks....full of testosterone. really?

hi. dream come true. how are you?

anyway. he was wearing a big patch on his shirt that proclaimed that he was a recipient of a purple heart. my first instinct was to see if he was missing a leg. he had all his limbs. he walked fine. teeth were good. didn't stutter. what in the world could be wrong.

and because i am overtly sensitive....i blurted out "so you have both legs. what's the patch for?"

before he could even ask us how we liked out cow cooked, he was sitting down at the table with us telling us his war story about getting hit by a grenade in Iraq.

..........

if this isn't the typical "man walks into the bar and talks to the bartender about the secret of life" then i don't know what is.....
but the evening was key to survival as a bride and maid of honor.

anyway. not that this even matters anymore. but. i was at walgreen's and i walked down the card aisle and thought "oh. i should get her a card to repay her sweet card giving" and i read one that reminded me of a recipe i once saw.
this recipe called for 2 eggs. but if you don't have 2 eggs, you could substitute 3 egg whites.

and i was amazed at how ignorant that was. but worse yet, when i read it. i didn't immediately catch on. i sat and thought to myself "well, why would you want egg whites only? the good part is the yolk!"

and it dawned on me that even when i was trying to be womanly and get a card for a girlfriend...
i still don't do the recipe, ironing, tea sipping, knitting thing that other girls do. give me a dryer, a rib, and a war story, and i am much better off.

i'm a leprechaun!!!!!

2006-08-08T19:17:00.000-07:00

seriously. either that or a four leaf clover. whichever it is, there is green involved. lots of it. so start envying, homeslice!

:)

let's look at this in the form of a list. lists are good. Ross Perot Sr. likes stuff like that, and he has more money than jesus. so i think i will follow in his steps like this:

got engaged.
next day he lands interview in dallas.
next month he moves to dallas with my best friend and secret boyfriend (opps)
i lose 20lbs.
i get my guitar rebuilt for free because taylor is awesome enough to carry the warranties over to the second buyer.
the venue for the wedding is CHEAP.
and available.
TAHITI! 6 NIGHTS. HI.
cousin moves in and pays rent so i can afford gas to get to work!
uh oh...bored with job. lets look for another on the clock while i am pretending to be productive!
bing bang bong interview.
another interview
another another interview.
lots of offers.
lots of even BETTER offers when i start turning them down.
Senior partner? 12k raise before i even start?
wait...what's this? commision on top? hmmmm.....what else can i get?
"what will it take to get you to work for us?"
run in a circle and scream "HALLELUHHHHH-JAMAICA!!!"?
...well...i tried. how about a 20k raise?

done. and done.

rub my belly. see what happens!

will work for shoes.

2006-07-27T07:09:00.000-07:00

The quest for a new job really leaves me feeling empty.
never have i been one to search for jobs or boyfriends.
i like letting them come to me.
so, somehow, i feel a bit...un-ladylike throwing myself out there like i am.

yes, i know. that is weird.

luckily, my search isn't DIRE. i still have my current job, and a few pennies a month to spare on food and gas. but, i can't afford to level with the staus-quo. and here in dallas, that is unacceptable.

:)

jk.

but really, i just want a change of pace. a new window to look out of that isn't overshadowing a hobo-lair. i have been on 2.5 interviews. (the .5 being one that was cancelled bc the position had been filled.) and i have another tomorrow. the interviews go really well. but then....silence.

it's like a first date.
they take me out. we have a great time. "i'll call you k!"
"YESSSSSS"

so i go to bed that night with stars in my eyes and giddy about the relationship that will bud. and what we will name our fish. and how i will dress for the next date...

and? nothing. no job offers. no secondary interviews. no drug tests, or urine analysis...just an occasional email to tell me i am not experienced enough...

do i even NEED to go into that analogy?!

::so proud of myself for that joke::

and since it was never in my blood to track down boys and make them take me out again because i WANT them to pursue ME....
i just sit by the phone and wait for the employers to realize how much they need me.

...and they DO!

[not]

shine down on me!

2006-07-18T19:02:00.000-07:00

dude..

i used a handy little tool, called "salary wizard", to decide how much i should ask for when i am FINALLY called for the phone interview...

(so far, interviewer is 2.5 hours late to the interview. does this mean it is OK if i am 2.5 hours late to work?)

luckily, the EXACT amount that i want just HAPPENS to be the median in the DFW area for my career level. isn't that nice? almost 14,000 dollars more a year. and i LIKE the way that sounds.

(according to salary wizsard, i was ROYALLY screwed for the past 18 months.)

i just don't even have the capacity to work there anymore.
i am so.sick.and.tired.of that place.
i need something new. and by new, i mean i need a lot of money so i can purchase a nice smart new car that doesn't perform like satan on sleeping pills.

maybe i should just quit tomorrow anyway even though i have yet to hear from the interviewer.
and then, even if i DON't get the job, i will still have a summer break to sit by the pool.

i wonder how much i can get paid doing that.
?

updates and promises

2006-07-17T20:44:00.000-07:00

when you get closer, i got nervous.
not in the sense that i am scared to have you near, but more that i am scared that you will change your mind.
or maybe that we wouldn't like each other anymore.
or maybe that we never really liked each other at all, but didn't know it.

either way, it was a bit like sitting on a heap of eggs waiting for each breath to be the one to start the cracking.

and each harsh word we say will bring us tumbling towards the epicenter of a giant earth shattering quake.
to break our little world.
that we had blue prints to create.

i still sit waiting. searching for the glue that will hold my eggs close to me.
::crack::
one row down, but as the tip of a pyramid, it was minor.
it's the strong foundation that i am worried about splitting.

and i think sometimes we will make it, but it would be a lot easier if you would help me from this heap of shells that am atop.

you have to choose me.
which entails choosing to help me.
which entails helping yourself some, too.
which entails me helping you.
which entails helping myself.

and we all live happily in our made up world, upon our nest eggs that we hold firm together with gushy, gooey love.

i am serious.

if i could make just one wish....

2006-05-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

i think my wish would include something along the lines of having never to deal with pouty attitudes when making mundane everyday decisions.
because really, once you include someone else's waxey behavior over something trivial, it really makes choices so OBSCENELY difficult.

and i am tired of always having to be punished for someone else's minor dilemas.

sure, i get depressed. i get down. we all do. but for the love, PLEASE just pick yourself up off of the ground and deal with life without me having to baby you first, mmmk?
a simple "yes" or "no" shouldn't be muddled with the complexities of personal issues that have abslutely nothing to do with me.

depression really gets on my last nerves these days. i guess because it seems that everyday is another rollercoaster ride, and honestly....this theme park is getting to be a bore.

i love you all.
:)

does ft. worth ever cross youuurrrr miiiiind?

2006-04-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

i just got back to my parent's house from a whilrlwind 12 hour to-and-fro wedding/eating/familying extravaganza.

my dad wasn't always this redneck, was he?
sunflower seeds spat in a dairy queen cup?
merle haggard songs about prison?
playing air mandolin?

come ON! why can't we play air guitar? why does it have to be a frikkin' sissy mandolin?

(i love my dad...::smiles fondly::)

the last time i ever drove further than fort worth, texas, i was 7 years olde. and the only thing i remember about that trip was building a snowman in the middle of my aunt's front yard in odessa, tx and a Garth Brooks concert.

i did NOT remember that smell.
i did NOT remember those tall white creepy windmills that make me think ufo's are lurking nearby.
and i did NOT remember that dry air.

however, i have now decided that the world DOES in fact, end on the other side of ft. worth. but, that dry air sure helps the hairdo. i look GREAT in the desert. it's such a shame i dislike nose bleeds so much that i have to live somewhere humid.

and with that in mind...how is it that it refuses to snow in dallas, but in the desert, desolate, wasteland of west texas, my only real memory (besides, of course, garth brooks swinging gallantly over his fanbase on ropes) is SNOW?!?!?!

in a desert.

at least now i have the fond memory of my dad's sunflower spitoon and merle haggard.

::blink::
::blink blink::

Fun with Hobos: IS Eight enough?

2006-04-24T15:44:00.000-07:00

I get into a lot of trouble with my fascination/obsession/interest in hobos. (does that mean that when i fill out a form and it asks for "hobbies" i can put "hobos"? "what are your favorite hobbies?" "HOBOS!!!!!!!!!" i like that. A LOT) I once posted a blog about a hobo that had set up shop in the taco bell drive thru and would panhandle when you drove up to him. and because of that post, i got SO.MUCH.GRIEF. for how heartless and spoiled i am. and how helpless and shamed he must have felt when i attacked him by asking HIM for five bucks. (which...i thought was clever)

it is, however, always fun when you see a hobo with a good "trick of the trade" like....the legless hobos. i always give them money. or the hobo that spent the money to have a plastic "homeless: please help" sign MADE for him at a printing shop to withstand the violence of wind and rain. GENIUS.

but today, friends, i can't help but laugh.

i was on my way back to work from spending 400 bucks on that stupid buick that i NO LONGER like. and i saw a sad sight: a deaf woman on the corner of haskell and live oak signing for food.

the other cars declined her pardons, and she started to walk away

i thought to myself "i wish i hadn't spend that dollar on this wonderful orange soda so that i could give it to her, but oh well" and as i finish the thought in my head (as i opened my sunkist) the car in front of my honked.

i looked up, to see the woman turn around from halfway down the block, the guy yell "hey lady" and see her run back to the corner to retrieve her gift.

the deaf lady.

heard the honk.

came and got the quarter.

half a block.

DEAF!.

HONK!!

??????

oh, brother....