Funny thing happened today.

Rank comes out in exactly one week. 1st semester down. and this girl is #1 baby!

IHOP

too much chaos... in conjunction with too much minimum wage.

A homeless man bought me a cup of coffee...

I start with this because it is weird. Seems counter intuitive. To qualify, he used a stamp card that was worth a free cup of coffee... but whatever. still weird.

Day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday as it were. This girl was still awake from last night... I had every intention of going to Pep Boys to get my color TomTom for $70 at 5 am. Then I thought to check Best Buy. It is right around the corner from my house. 5 am was doable. Luckily i thought to check the website. Bought that bad boy of a better GPS online. It will take a little while to get here... but at least I didn't get mowed over by the crazy women.

I had a point. I lost it. Free coffee = good.

1st Fat finger, next fat arm... now... fat FACE.

i am now allergic to a certain bug bite. which bug? who knows.

what happens? my face swells up like hitch.

it's not funny.

except that at first i thought it was sinus, maybe allergies. got some benedryl and slept for eight hours. went to moms... she made me a sock compress with rice in it (apparently you microwave this and it holds heat better).

it helped not at all. woke up at 2 this morning took all kinds of sinus medicine and allergy meds. woke up this morning swelling moved from right eye to whole right side of face, across chin... disgusting.

i am quasi modo over here.

went back to pharmacy who urged me to after hours clinic. which was expensive (and I have health insurance!). got steroid shot, it is going down.

not making it to study group tonight. so my study partner (who drives in from N.O. everyday for class and 1 day during weekend to study w/me) decides not to go either. It is terribly sweet.

Everyone has a group to bounce stuff off of, but you each have your 1 person whom you are most honest and most attached too. Mine is Roo. or roo roo. because his fraternity thinks it is cool to bark at people. The 1st time he did this, we were studying under a tree in front of the law center. a girl with posters of her sorority passed by and he ACTUALLY BARKED. I was mortified!

He explains this is what they do. and some women (including this girl) respond well to it. He actually got a phone number for this. it was so bizarre.

So he offers his assistance, asks if i need anything, and will not come into town b/c i do not want to go into public. tomorrow i am working from home. i will make it to class in a michael jackson scarf, so help me.

How about that presidential debate?

c'mon it's funny.

don't watch grey's anatomy while drinking wine.

what if the dream killer was my person. what if, i have no person. what if i have lived my life in such a way that i am going to be alone.

so says the wine.

Il dificil no c'est impossible.

Remember that day that I thought i might be semi intelligent? that i loved what i did professionally and wanted nothing else but law school academically. asked my company to pay for it and thought i could do both. and well.

Everything works in theory.

The reality is that i sleep an average of 4 hours a night. read every free second of my day. record lectures and hide earbuds in my ears in pointless meetings to get so much information into my head. Crim law professor who I am chasing down to tell me what is wrong with my writing FOR HIM is committed to the idea of subtly letting me know that he is the holy grail and i am a nothing.

In fact, he calls me Rep. As in class rep. As in, he has decided that he will not speak to the 65 people in my class... he will speak to me. and i will disseminate to my class. this is the privileged position? no. though he calls everyone else "you".

best part? he knows all of our names.

He says "write my hypos... come to my office... let's talk. if you can't write these things in your sleep the way i want, you will not pass". like every other class in law school, your grade is what you make on the final. yay.

so i leave work at 4 everyday... get to school 430/445. class is at 6. Monday i got the distinct pleasure of sitting outside of his office until 6. on the off chance he would see me. nope.

repeat tuesday. wednesday, same thing. Thursday, same thing.

nice.

because i don't have 4 other classes. and a full time job.

Took a week off of this particular humiliation... this past monday, came back to it. Happened to catch in an elevator. this man is going to talk to me. i will follow you. i will sing outside of your office. YOU WILL TALK TO ME! because this has to work and not doing well is not an option. and my rockstar might have been kicking in.

So he does see me. takes my paper and does not want to talk about it. He wants to talk about Time magazine. where he has written. how important writing is. I am a nerd. I took notes on this. (what?! he FINALLY saw me!) for forty minutes. what took 2 minutes... was him telling me to take out 1 sentence and move some things around. Everything he wants is there... but if i gave it to him like that it would be a C.

nice. i chose this. this seemed like a good idea to me.

Back to the title line. The difficult is not the impossible.

True to form

Mom got power back today. My house? still nothing. Cat is not amused. With the start of law school and Hurricane Gustav, there has been much stress, drama and argh situations.

and true to form... here he comes.

Dream Killer.

Who offers you (or me) everything you need to make it all better. Wow that makes him sound like a drug dealer... I assure you he is not.

I saw him at school as I was about to walk into Legal Research. I made it through my 1st week. I think I might be functionally retarded. That is about how great it was.

Dream Killer floats by to inquire about my start... like we are buddy pals. like you did not take every shot you had left to take. Like you did not seek to make me feel like I could never do anything in life.

I digress.

I scurry away in true awkward fashion. He left a note on my car. (little stalker-ish. I'm just saying. it is) blah blah he was crazy about me... blah blah he acted like a jerk because he does not think... blah blah.

then he leave message (because he is still blocked on my cell... email... and does not have the number to the blackberry) he has books, notes, outlines and supplements that i can have. all right here. just take it. it will make it all better.

I got spooked. I took it. stupid. stupid.... but it is helping...

on to Hurricane. We had trees uprooted, roof damage, no power for a week... thinking it could be weeks until we get it back... here he is: "I know you didn't remember to get cash, I pulled out $50 for you... just to hold you for a min... and i got feet (Doritos Cool Ranch) and skittles for you because i know how much you like them"

fast forward. His awesome amazing dad who wrote one of my letters of rec has cancer. It has been in and out of remission for years. He is in chemo again. He does not look good. In fact he is going to die.

Dream Killer suggests I go by the house. The company I work for has tankers of gas especially for us. I offer this humble gesture to the dad. Because he is a humble greatness. because when he is gone the world will feel a loss. Because he is the reason I do not have a DWI, because because because.

Today he struggles against himself and takes me up on it. Before I get there, power is restored. Dream Killer calls to tell me to still come over... for pizza with the fam.

No.

this is the line.

Every time that the world rages and storms that is his in. That is how he makes temporary amends so we can make it through this situation... and just when you think everything is ok.... BAM! $hit storm! and he is quick to tell me that his family is not mine. and I can just forget that letter from his dad. and my mother never loved me and i have no worth in this world.

no more.

My gesture was small to be sure. but it was for the dad. and not for the killer of my dreams. True to form he followed his M.O.

Contra-mine I am not going back. We are not OK and I will not do this to myself ever again.

Bib #318! This girl is a RocketChick!

My legs were on fire. The 12 miles bike was longer than it should have been... my swim was sloppy and I had to walk (or wobble) the 1st almost mile of the run. i can't wait to do it again.

at the end of the day... I finished 16th in my division... and i beat a hell of a lot of other people, I have to be happy about that. I am an athlete. I am a Tri-Athlete. i am a Rocket chick.

I need water.

"I Can't Believe I Just Did That!"

I can't believe I just read that.

The title is a book that occupied me on the 16 hours in a car to Atlanta, then Athens, then back to Atlanta and finally home.

Btw... Kias are god awful! I hate those things. They make as much sense to me as Saturn cars. Why? for what reason. Also I fully recognize that I am an evil capitalist that believes in the roomy goodness of an SUV.

Back to book and will have to finish post later.

I can see the value in the 1st portion of this as it relates to Career Development for the yuppies. It lends itself to the awesome premise of a presentation I am giving next month in Mass. (and they are flying me up for 1 day to talk for 45 min... I am floored. and biding my time till i rub it in Bambi's face)

My issue comes in that you have to take this and all "self-help" books with a grain of salt. Why? because the author's bias is all over it. He was a woose as a kid and you can tell. He is probably a homo-sexual. i say this not negatively but as a matter of fact... and through his writing you can tell.

The value in this book? deconstructing the power struggle. it is interesting. more later.

I post partially to force myself to update.

UPDATE: i lost my train of thought. i also lost my credit card apparently. Had lunch on Thursday w/JB. Waitress gave me someone else's card. I had no idea. Spent the weekend in ATL... used it all over the place... suddenly it was declined at a gas station... called today b/c for the life of me I could not figure out what was wrong... now all of the charges will be taken care of by VISA. Don't know what to make of all that.

fat finger the sequel: fat arm... the explanation

Circa April... was the HUGE company picnic. Mom came to get sick on cotton candy, popcorn and coke... grams came so i could beat her at basketball... (the pic they sent me of her is precious. for privacy reasons I am not posting. email me... I'll show you how cute she is)...

and i got put on a volley ball team for the tournament. because from weight training and swimming... i have the girl equivalent to guns. (these are so going away! people notice and i am getting self conscious. the definition is not bad... but I'm getting hit on by lesbians... it's kind of scary) thus i look like an athlete. SURELY i know what to do with a volley.

Thing is, i do not.

I have not touched a volley ball since like 6th grade. I did ballet. I did dance team. I didn't have to DO P.E. with the ruffians. ick.

so i got put on a team that has to play against the COO and his kids. Oh there is some good news there. Get ready for the good ol' college try. the boys on my team were SERIOUS about this. I'm not sure why i was there. The ball would come at me an in true girl form... i ran in the opposite direction in my pink shorts while the boys tried to kill the ball. it was madness...

until i tried to hit the ball. and the last 3 fingers on my right hand began to swell. it was so painful. now my pinkie is still deformed. You think i am kidding... i am not.

Mom's sage medical advice? "Honey stick your hand in a cup of ice... and don't be such a woose" yay mom. at least she made the sad face as she said it and brought me juice :)

hence we begot fat finger... on to the sequel...

2 weeks ago running suicide sprints... on a soccer field... with p-day and the real athletes he trains. football, soccer, track... the BOYS. I was working on my run times and intervals... i can use this.

one of the girls passed out from heat exhaustion... and my heat tried to pretend not to notice... her friends helped her up. the paramedics put her in a tent. the workout proceeded. In a case like that... unless you know the person LEAVE THEM ALONE. i'm sure she was just mortified. I know I would be.

How do I know? Because shortly thereafter, I was. (that's what she said).

Next set of sprints. run, turn at cone, run back, turn at further cone, run back, turn at... ok you get the drill.

except on the turn, i turned awkwardly and felt myself going down... i put my right arm behind me to catch myself... and felt my wrist pop.

I don't know what it says about me that i was MORTIFIED and EMBARRASSED because i fell in front of GOD AND EVERYBODY before I realized I was in pain.

I immediately tried to stand up but could not put pressure on my right hand. P-day scooped me up like a 2 year old which only made me hyper ventilate worse. It was so retarded. and I couldn't stop it.

My heat is around me and the boys have the frozen death stare and whisper "please don't cry, please don't cry" and i grit my teeth and say "I DO NOT CRY"

to which P-day is concerned and says "ok, don't cry... please breath because you are scaring me".

for my efforts i had a wrist and arm that were incredibly painful and required ice. i couldn't do anything because i only had one hand and even through ice, celebrex and lots of ibuprofen my hand screamed at the slightest movement.

obviously it is a lot better now. hence i am typing. it is funnier now.. but the whole thing has knocked me back weeks of training.

did i mention my 1st tri is this Saturday (yeah, THERE is some good news) and the whole damn thing has cost me so much money, i have to do it at this point.

i'm not ready, and i hate the way i look. that is vain. or maybe it just looks that way.

worst part? roommate bought me a mountain bike and put his $700 road bike at my disposal. i should probably get familiar with the damn thing, since i'm gonna do 12 miles on it.

rat bastard.

Fat Finger the Sequel: Fat Arm!

before we get to the title line... am watching Mamma Mia!

Very good. better than I thought it would be.

overarching impression: Meryl Streep is OOOOOOLLLLLLLDDDDDDD!!!!!

Pura Vida

Subject: Call from Austin

Times I let it go to V-mail: 3 times in 2 weeks

why I picked up today? He sent me a text... I was curious.

why he called: he is flying back to Costa Rica which is where he lives. and will be moving to Australia.

He wants to give me a perspective of disenchanted young people everywhere else in the world. He wants to keep in touch. He wants to remain friends. He gives me his email and asks me to visit his myspace full of Costa Rica.

I visit MySpace out of curiosity. he is listed as the title line.

He is in a relationship? his myspace says so. he does not bring this up.

He gets off the phone to board a plane. "come visit me wherever i am. come live in australia whenever you are sick of the rat race". I did the visit when he was in Austin... just like Japan he will seamlessly move into "stay here! stay forever!" and i will want to break my neck running away from him.

We are not friends. we used to be. and then i was stupid enough to listen to his professing of his undying love... and he says stupid things like marriage... and he is a flake. he is not the marrying kind.

I want to drown myself in beer. and kick him. want the beer more though.

I want to not be where i am. suddenly the job i love... the impending promotion... the start of law school... looks like nothing.

why? because he spent a month in Italy just because... so this is jealousy? of his life? of his abandonment of rational reason... and the universe just catches him.

I remember that it and he did not work for me. That i do not want to bring him home to the family, do not want to marry him. did not even want to see him very often... so the issue is not so much him... as it is me.

which i know.

ugh. next time i am just not answering. no matter how many times he calls. I'm too old for this $hit.

Being in the Air Force does not obligate me to take you to a strip club.

onward.

Thursday was DJ Sabrozo's birthday. He wants to do dinner at P.F. Changs and drinks somewhere else. I say cool. I have to go. I punk out on too many outings for the sake of work, working out or plain-i just don't want to.

but he continues to call and he always has... so i feel like i have to. OMG! that was the most fun I have had in my city in a long time. Dinner was me, him and 20 newbie clubbing girls. that was awkward. Later, all of the other fun people showed up and the party was moved to Sullivans. Usually a better... calmer more sophisticated bar/restaurant... THAT night try cheesy band, lots o cougars and drunken young professionals.

Many many martinis later...

DJ wants to go to the gold club. Argh. At this point we are down to the fantastic 4. Me, Palestine 4-EVA, Nidal and DJ.

nice.

On to the gold club. i take issue to pay to see something i already have. I've gone w/friends... i get that it is a form of entertainment... and for DJ's b-day i will shut up and go.

it was interesting until a stripper put her tongue down my throat. So, i guess the awesome pop culture reference would be "I kissed a girl and I didn't like it".

Ever awesomely sarcarastic Nidal hands me a lemon drop and says "Here you go kid. Alcohol kills everything, even chlamydia!"

ok, that was funny.

fast forward to the UFC fight last night at Hooters. interesting enough. Christmas's brother in law's friends is on military leave and about to deploy to Iraq for 6 months. yay him.

he is 21. yay him part 2.

he is very vocal about being in the military/air force... it is all he talks about... and wanting to go to a strip club. he has never been. up to this point... still not my problem.

He goes on and on... most of the guys he is hanging with are grossly underaged and very immature. Still not my problem, the grown people are on my side of the table. Then there were a few. and he is trying to find someone to go with him...

on and on about how this will be the only good memory he has to take with him to Iraq. and it is all very sad. he is young. and stupid young. and not cute enough to make up for the dumb $hit that keeps coming out of his mouth.

he begs me to take him. i don't want to. i say i went already for a friend's birthday...

he says "well my birthday was in April... and none of my friends took me! you could feel better that you were helping me have a good birthday."

my response "apparently you need better friends and you are not my friend... in fact we just met, so i don't exactly care whether or not you had or have a good one ever"

ugh.

he worked on me long enough that i took him. bought him a beer... stayed all of 10 minutes for his friend to meet us... and left them both there.

today christmas texts me that this guy was hoping i would go there with him... love it... take him home and *ahem*. is he serious? has he met him... where would this little guy get an idea that something like that would happen without the aid of rupees slipped into my drink. seriously! what are the teaching these young kids in the military.

The shirt is funny... because it was the shirt that he was wearing. and he wonders why he is not getting laid.

0-L.O.V.E. in 2.5 seconds

Lots to post... more to come... all in one day because i have been too busy to write.

on to this one.

Yesterday Jenny-Bear had her 1st test of the season. She is taking 4 classes (12 hours) in summer school and has to make straight A's... so she can get back into her senior college and take the 3 classes she needs to graduate.

why? because she opted for marriage and child instead of finishing the d@mn degree when it would have been 2 classes.

Thus, now she is going back. She has suffiently caught 1st day of school envy from the rest of us and wants a degree. I want her to have one as well.

Back to story... yesterday was her 1st essay test. she called that morning... we were supposed to do the girlie... pedicure... maybe wine maybe cheese... maybe...

by the time we both did hair and makeup she made the executive decision of "I NEED A DRINK! Smelly Mexican!"

I countered with my own executive veto "NO SMELLY MEXICAN"

We met at Friendly off campus grill and bar, ate, drank, became merry. She got $hit faced very quickly... how did this happen?

She mentions she promised the husband a margarita hence we had to stop by Smelly Mexican. It becomes the drunken mission. Seek out the Margarita. We get there, find the bar. find the waitress. find the margarita.

Mission accomplished.

and here comes round 2 before we could stick a straw in round 1.

Sometimes (ok usually) it is nice to be the girl.

Some guys from the bar sent us drinks. it is a lovely gesture and i greatly enjoy it. Let's focus on the pivital word here... GESTURE.

Jenny Bear proceeds to get weepy into margarita. WTF?

She goes off "they only sent drinks because of you. they are hitting on you, and i am officially the unattractive friend." no this is not the case. ladies and gentlemen, this is not the case at all. JB is stunning. has always been, will always be. not just because she is my BFF and i am biased.

So she engages them in conversation to prove it. Oh, there is a good idea.

The guy that bought our drinks own a commercial construction firm and lives down the street from the CEO of my Fortune 500 company. He knows the execs from my business line. We talk shop. He sees himself as an over acheiver... I am engaged in conversation so my friend can have her ego stroked.

He goes on and on... and somewhere in there starts to tell me about how much of a big damn deal he is. that he would like to bank roll my dreams ... and the life he could provide for me and all of the potential he sees... he even pulled out his crack-berry to show me the 85ft. pool he just built in his backyard (or maybe he just took a pic of a random pool).

ok. now it is time to go. why? because he admits it may have been the alcohol (gee... you think?) but he has never fallen for a woman so fast and gives me the business card... and begins to profess his undying love.

Yeah. thank you and good night.

Next stop... Fox and the Hound with mugs... and Sullivans with the run in of my boy next door.

More to come.

Tourettes' is engaged!

by definition she will be getting married.

I am officially the last of my best single girlfriends. ugh.

It is the boy in Monroe (northeast LA)... and though i consider my city not big enough to be a real city... Monroe may as well be the sticks. and little rural towns... they are cute... but i'm a city girl. ugh part II.

I should start by clarifying what my role is here.

1. Dress up
2. Show up
3. Shut up

I say this because outside of what I or anyone else thinks of this union... we are not asked to think. If Tourettes has rationalized this in her mind... we all smile and nod. Why? because of her own admission she is settling. He fits what she kind of wants. and her dad likes the guys. and he has stuck with her showing him all of her crazy for 8 months.

Is she happy? If you ask her (which I did) she says "yeah, i guess.... i mean what is happiness anyway. He loves me. I'm getting old."

Oh.

and I close my eyes to the way my heart hurts for her. it is new. no, no it is not. but to let her do this and not crap on her already fragile sense of purpose is what is expected of me. because no matter what i say she will do it anyway... and forever remember that it was me that said. if she is to not do this she has to get there on her own.

in the meantime i am trying to steer her away from ugly bridesmaids dresses. and also... we are not picking a dress based on what would be most flattering for the fat girl!

It is everything you hope it will be.

I cried. I am a sap. It's been a long time since I've cried in a movie, and this is what brought it out.

It is simply perfect. Not because it mirrors every girls life... but every girl's hope. It is our modern day fairy tale.

Wow that looks terrible. ah, but who cares.

big news but it deserves it's own post. for the mean time i am putting new music on my mp3 player and going to run.

*sigh*

Meet "Southern"

WTF?!

It is the cat from my dream. except last night as I walked in the door, he walked in with me.

He is cuddley (i don't know if it is a boy or a girl... no i don't know how to tell) and a kitten. and very attached to me. I wake roommate up (at like 1 in the morning) to ask if we can keep him. Apparently i must give him a bath and feed him something 1st.

It is just strange that I dreamed him and he showed up. I think he shall be Southern Comfort. He really is sweet. and very snuggly. I like that. I think I need that.

*sigh*

A funny thing happened on the way to the forum...

I woke up happy.

and I am as confused as you are reading this.

Have you ever had a dream and woke up wondering what it meant?
Have you ever had a dream and woke up knowing exactly what it meant?

I got that second one, and I don't know what it was... It wasn't overly anything. Very realistic... nothing out of the ordinary, except Dream Killer was in it (we are no longer speaking.It has been 2 months and i am a better person for it)

He had a new girl roommate and a new cat named "Southern" in my dream.

I don't know what exactly equalled "happy". But I woke up feeling very settled. Today life is good.

Other updates... Bama is engaged. Little Bit told me. To a girl that worked with him at the gym here. I am in awe that his way worked. I get that he took in a huge amount and sifted... and it begets marriage? Interesting.

Had a real date with Goggles. Dinner and wine. It was nice. Today a crawfish boil and a bar-b-que. It was ok. I'm just not into him, and I will never be. And now we are looking for the words to tell him so and still have him train me. (or put me in touch with his old swim coach because we need to clean up some bad strokes.)

however i did lose 3 lbs this week (though i probably gained them all right back today)

In other news... I am sticking with my bad law school for a year and trying to transfer before next summer. We'll see how this goes.

I love him!