Cameo of a sucker

Said sucker would unfortunately be me. Hmmmmm.... How to start what I have for today.... I guess we just spit it out.... the more I blog the more I see a few themes that ribbon through my posts and to be quite frank... it concerns me. Want to know what tidbit I have today that I have heard myself type?

"Who knew men believed in the fairy tale almost as much as, if not more than ,women do?!"

Case in point: Bama.

(I said he gets no more time... I didn't say we wouldn't speak to him in public)

So standard intro- Circuit training, stretching, he bops over to stretch. He asks all about me and my stuff... I am trying to be vague and disengage myself from conversation with him as Newbie and I are toying with the idea of taking up Karate and we had to go talk to the guy... you know The Guy... anyway. So he is blocking me and moving around so I just can't get past him and I am like "Fine! This is me talking to you!"

So we are back to talking about all of the schools getting an application from me and the pending transfer with work. To which he begs that I call him as soon as I have something concrete so we can celebrate properly. I say "sure" he says "I know what your 'sure' means and I'm serious, please call me"... So I sheepishly have to ask for him # again... because I deleted it a long time ago and never save it when he talks to my voice mail. He is astounded that I don't have it anymore and I counter with "You probably don't have mine either." and his defense?

"What if I had a girlfriend for a couple of months and I wasn't supposed to call you?" and I say "are you kidding? I think I'm missing the funny." So here is the funny... he's not kidding. Apparently he did have a gf for a few months, he met her parents, and she (accidentally) met his. Promptly after which he realizes he does not want to marry her and breaks up with her. Now he did not use the words he is telling me as why he broke up with her... He used codewords like "re-evaluate our situation" and "we just aren't that into each other" and what not.

But I am blown away by (1) his honesty with himself and (2) that he is thinking about marriage and (3) WAIT A MINUTE! WHAT DOES THAT MAKE ME?

I fully accept that I am the most commitment phobic girl you know. Fully. Everyone who shows interest in me makes me want to duck behind a tree. If you ignore me... I will follow you like a duck. And hanging out with Bama was easy, it was funny. There are no expectations besides keep your word. I am not God, I am not the law, I am not your mother, . I can not send you to hell, I cannot send to you jail, I cannot even send you to your room! Therefore, you have no reason to lie to me. If you say you will do something, do.

And the standing me up on my b-day... besides that he had a gf I didn't know about, left a bad taste, and like I said if I'd really been into him, that could have been devastating. But that he started a whole 'relationship' of sorts and questioned his future with a girl... does that mean I have also been judged in his eyes and found to be lacking?

Maybe I am overthinking? I am definetely comtemplative and slightly confused. The only thing that this really drives home is that life is too short to spend time with people you don't want to spend time with. Bama's not getting a call... but you knew that.

All the randomness... all at once.

1. I had to pick something up from my office on Saturday. As I parked in front of my building the skies set up to cry bloody murder. I popped out and ran upstairs to get what I came for. On my way back I was treated to an interpretive dance by a piece of one of my SIMS (a construction hard hat) doing it's American Beauty Bag impression (getting knocked around by the wind). Watching it bounce all I could think of was "How like one of my SIMS to lose his head!".

2. Waiting at Sears' Auto Shop for what seemed like and eternity waiting for an oil change and alignment taught me several things...

a) I am never going to be a professional bull rider. I know you were all hoping to come see me ride a bull but somehow that does not look like the best career choice for this girl. Maybe it's getting dragged through the mud by a big bull, maybe it is the charming horns that just happen to catch the belt of a young cow boy and toss him up like he's a fluffy kernal of popping corn. No ma'am. Not this girl!

b) if you leave me in the waiting room for longer than 15 minutes by myself, I will seriously weigh the pros and cons of spending $200 on a welding helmet with a Smurf on the side. I'm just saying... No, I don't weld, but what if I took it up... then I might need a helmet... and what if the one with the Smurf on the side becomes rare and elusive... I will kick myself for not jumping on the chance.

c) ditto for all of the above on $50 welding gloves. Now I have other gloves but what if I needed these specific gloves. They are $50! I bet they can do magic! For $50 they better!

3. Wait for it... Kris's newest 'please try to reach through the phone and smack me' plea is going to be an addition to the list of ALL of the things I have been given in life that she has not, which is why I am perfectly perfect and she is not ... American Citizenship. Why? Her green card expired several years ago, along with the passport. Know what the sweetest K in the world did for her big sis? Spent an obnoxious amount of $ to overnight a package with all the forms, office addresses, phone numbers, and directions to get to the embassies etc. to renew the damn things complete with a cashier's check to cover her fees... know what the genius Kris did? who knows, the sh*t is still expired. Does that make her illegal... why yes, yes it does. nice.

Now she's had her foot run over by a forklift and her employer is not so much jumping through hoops to help her with her claim. Guess what boys and girls... depending on her illegal status- she may not have one. Mommiey to the rescue. Mom's took the red eye out of N.O. (complete with drop off and guest appearance from Sleepy Kiran) to NY. To go help her baby. That is what all of mom's vacation this year has become. Going home to do the ceremony for her brother passing away, helping out with my cousin's wedding, taking care of my grandmother, and now the black hole of despair that is my sister. It's wrong. My family expects and takes so much from her. and she keeps making me promise to always be my sister's keeper... the bad part is... if something were to happen to her I know me, I would not be ok in the slightest. In fact I suggst you come find me and sit next to me- don't say anything stupid but don't leave me alone. "Being my sister's keeper" would be me cutting my sister a check for every cent in my savings account and asking her to never never contact me again. the worst part is that I am not entirely kidding. If she would sell her status as my sister, I would buy it back in a heart beat.

How is it possible for one person to be a black hole of completely uselessness and and need? How is that possible. Who does that? All the angry ick. She doens't get better. and she never will. never. Damn, this was supposed to be a funny blog.

You want a piece of me?

Yesterday I checked the mail... and I got real mail! Not just bills and junk! So I flip the little card round and round trying to guess what it could be. It is about the size of an invite to somebody's b-day or shower or some such thing... So I'm running throught the possibilities... then I see it is from Santa Clara, CA. Which means it's from my cousin Cali (get it... cuz she's in CA? no? nothing? I guess I had to many carbs this morning :)

It is a "Thank you" card... and I think "awwww... that's nice. Wait, what am I getting a Thank you card for?"... So I read the card. *note... please read the next sentence very slowly... it took me a second to wrap my mind around it*... Cali sent me a Thank you card to say Thank you for the Thank you card I sent her for the Birthday/Grad card she sent me. What?!

Let me stress that my Thank you was bigger and more thoughtful (hers was like $0.20... I know because as I type I have 2 packets in my drawer... I know what the break down is!). It was a willow tree card. Simple, elegant, blank in the middle for all the words I had to put in it.

As thoughtful (? ok we'll call it that.) as her card is... my initial response (and I fully acknowledge that I might be slightly competitive) Is she trying to challenge my Hallmark-edness? Don't test me woman, you will not win! I learned from the best! My mom would send a card to a purse snatcher that would guilt him into returning every purse that was ever snatched! I will call in reinforements, so help me I am not above it!

Again it is possible that I am looking at this the whole wrong way. Let me give you background. I am not so very close to my mom's big family. Everyone is so spread out... when we do all get together it is very apparent that I am my father's child... which is unfortunate because my mom's family sees my dad as the fabled Anti-Christo... the boogie man of all that is wrong with the world. I've met him all of 2x. I apologize for ending up with the wrong set of genes... but it is a bit of a one time magic trick... no putting this bunny back in the hat and seeing if you can pull out something different!

So Cali is another out-cast and was always the coolest cousin. She did all the bad stuff like sneaking out and never got caught. I am the bookish one (shocking isn't it)... My sister is the full fledged psycho... Karen is the beauty... Annie is the mini f***-up (Kris has her beat)... I got to many to go through ... you get the picuture- we are all different.

But recently Cali sends me cards for everything. Which is wierd. When I say everything... EVERYTHING. So maybe this is a new hobby? Maybe she is trying to 'build relationships'... She lived with my favorite uncle for a while... He is my favorite because I am his favorite. He believes that I am the princess of the world... and tells her so. She does not so much see it. Of course mom thinks Cali is the cutest thing in the world and threatens to hang me from the tree in the backyard for being so cynical... So in conclusion... IT IS SO ON!

I am going to find the stinking cutest most obnoxiously precious porcelin Precious Moments' thing to send her. Oh yeah, passive agressive girl is here and ready to rumble. Hallmark-style even! Why? I don't trust her intentions. Our entire relationship has been too wierd for too long.

The Palahniuk Drinking Game

Personal adaptation from a concept outlined in "Diary" by Chuck Palahniuk... yep the author of "Fight Club".

If the new 'lead' from the mailroom feels the need to cheerfully say 'hi, how are you' with such excitement that it looks like her eyes are going to pop out of her head... but they don't acutally pop out- take a drink.

If she does this EVERYTIME she sees you- Take another drink (each time).

If you see her 11 billion times a day and she still does it EVERYTIME she sees you with enthusiam that equals and rivals the very 1st time she did it- Take 2 drinks and an Advil liquid gel.

If she does it 3 times in 5 minutes- stop drinking... you (or I) will not make it to 11 a.m. with out sliding out of this chair. That would neither be impressive or attractive.

Talk about dodging a bullet!

So funky T works out at my gym also. I interrupted him talking to Bat-Girl to tell him to come to circuit training to which he says he has to get in better shape before such a thing is possible. He further asks if Daydream has ever told me what he (dreamy) eats. I say "no, why is it interesting?" He says Daydream is absolutely manic about it. He has his intake down to the exact calorie and every two hours etc. etc. He gets to the gym about 530 and leaves about 7. When he isn't training other people, he is training himself.... This is not the bullet.... please hold.... it's coming and it's great......

For breakfast he has is up at 4 with a piece of toast. I know, I know- you are thinking "what's wrong with that? I eat just a piece of toast sometimes..." no, no. A literal piece of a whole piece of toast. like let me cut this thing in 1/2 because I can't have all those carbs at once. WTF! It's not funny. but I can't stop laughing. So the daydream has been effectively squashed. Well... maybe a different kind of daydream... I did tell you his body is perfect. *sigh*

This is the greatest stuff on earth.

It is a sugar scrub. In small quantities you put it your hands- rub, rinse, and dry.... you will smell your hands all day.

With a friend... you take a bath and then a shower... and you don't leave the house/apt for the rest of the day. Hey, I don't make the rules.

My dentist keeps this in the bathroom of his office. I always have to brush my teeth before a cleaning at his office because I never remember to do it before I leave work. (The news from this visit is 1.) I have a sore throat and swollen lymph nodes 2.) I am less stressed and sleeping better- I'm not grinding my teeth and haven't popped off my sealants. yay.)

He used to have the Spearamint/Eucalyptus for Relax which I loved. Loved so much he gave me a jar for X-mas. I left it at Monito's and bought myself another which I have yet to open. Now he has Sandlewood Rose. I LOVE it. Sandlewood is Chandan in Hindi. and it is my most favoritest scent in this world.

Here is the kick in the head. If it is just me by myself, a whole jar all alone- I will never touch it. If I can only have a little (like at doc's office) I covet like crazy. And I absolutely must have the scent someone else has (not just another one they make but the specific one someone else has). How funny. How retarded. I am not going to let myself buy the Sandlewood Rose that I want. Ok. maybe we'll save it for a bad day... and then that is so what I am going to get!

It's not you ... it's me.

So I am officially over the daydream... what magic phenomenon occured to create this reaction? I had a conversation with him. It went well... but not for the reasons you are thinking. I can't say anything bad about him... in fact, much like the tag line indicates... I am done with this not so much because of him... but truly truly because of me.

Today we talked. Apparently he was once very corporate- fiber optic blah-biddy blah... as an extention from the time he served in the military working on special ops. So I ask "HOW?" how does one go from uber-cog in the great big corporate machine to developer of work-out phenomenenon (can you guess the word of the day?) called circuit training. He talks about how unhappy he was... and how much he focused on what he was good at- "training" people... or 1/2 killing them... if they didn't die and they got up... they were in better shape for it. To date apparently no one has died. He branched out into yoga and pilates and got certified in every thing. and now not only can I not breath... I feel very small.

I don't think I am doing this grown up thing right. No I am not happy in work. Yes I have a goal to accomplish as far as getting into law school. but what then? I don't have a very good plan and what is it that I am good at? Gi-normous ick!

Oh and the resolution was not to talk to him because the more I put it in context... the more I just couldn't. It would be so amazingly rude. The gym is where he WORKS and he is sociable and kind and everyone loves him. To throw myself at him would be desperate and pitiful. And if he said no- however diplomatically- I would be so mortified that I would have to find another gym to go to, and that would suck. So we keep it professional and back to the drawing board to work on me.

Update: As Daydream walked me out we passed Bama coming back from a corportate lunch in a tie. He e-mails me to say "hi" and he wanted to stop and talk but meetings and blah blah. The reponse he got from me? "You looked nice in your tie :)" to which he says that I always look nice and is it ok if he calls me. No response. He will try to work out with me tomorrow. I run faster and he still gets none of my time. Like the old post said- he should have behaved better. Yo no tengo mas tiempo para el.

I am not a 2-hitter qutter!

Side note: Screaming this into a cell phone does not so much convince the person on the other end of the validity of the aforementioned statement.

The dream-killer has officially forgiven me. Ok, would everybody please act surprised. He was over it by Tuesday, after I broke up with him as my friend Sunday night.

Friday night we went to dinner- he says I owe him a $10 glass of wine for the one I left at the loft. I say.... "ummmm sure." translation: not happening. So the restaurant we went to was wonderful- truly one of my favorites. Had a glass of wine with dinner and ordered an after dinner martini- couldn't drink it-it had Bailey's in it, it would have made me sick. We went to a cigar bar after that- it was awful... the crowd was red-necked, uncouth, and highly unattractive, which is the opposite of what this place usually is. We go to it's sister bar downtown- it was dead. And yet this seemed better than the usual suspects. Had a cosmo and ordered a Effn Black Cherry and sprite (hint: it tastes like a shirly temple) and couldn't drink it. Mr. Dream-killer who also thinks he knows me better than anyone in the world had the girl put it in a martini glass... with no ice...and apparently no sprite. and as much as I like Vodka I just couldn't stomach it. So I had all of 2. and Mr. DK finds it necessary to remind me that when a boy buys a girl a drink, she is supposed to drink it.

on to Saturday... and this is my funny.

We got tickets to the LSU game and a spectacular parking pass (which was worth more than the tickets) so I offered to buy us shirts. I got a football jersey #22- yeah ally (sp?) broussard. But it was the only one nike put out this year. I asked if DK was gonna get the same one... to which he replys... "Honey, no offense, but this is HOMECOMING not SADIE HAWKINS". I thought it was funny. The jersey he got was quite dashing as well.

Also used my ace of a guilt trip to get Saints tickets for last night, and about 3 in the afternoon I had to make the mature and adult decision to let them go. There was no way I was going to make it to N.O. in time and plus I didn't want to drive back so late or so early this morning.

In other news... not going to approach the Daydream. will post why later.

UGH.

That is the word for the day... because that is how I feel.

In other news... I hate Jordan Almonds. and somehow I constantly forget that. Look at the pic. Aren't they pretty? Don't they look edible? Right, but they are gross. So I have a disgustingly cute sachet of them on my desk leftover from a bridal shower. They are pretty. I forget they are gross. I try to eat one and spit it out... But they are still on my desk. I have to find someone to give them to, I'd hate to throw them away.

Even through the UGH comes a strange sense of peace. Serene tree frog indeed. Maybe will blog it later. I am ready for LSU to kick Tulane's teeth in, and hope Monito watches it to. ick.

Big Dumb Dummy-Head.

Yep. That's me. Wanna know why? French-Lebanese guy who spent Friday night proposing marriage to me. I gave him the wrong name but the right phone number. Stupid!

So he texts me 2x on Sunday- I text back to figure out who it is. I tell him I'm studying I'll text later (never do). After gym last night, went to study. He calls 2x and texts begging me to answer so that he can ask me something. He calls again, I answer- he asks if I'll have a drink w/him tonight- I say I'll let you know. Today it occurs to me I should go. At least to try the dating thing. After all, this is the 'year of the yes'. Who knows, it might be a good thing. So I text him yes. He asks me to pick him up on campus... ummmmmm no.

He says he is working on his LLM and he is a full atty in France. I don't care. I don't know him well enough to take him anywhere. That would just be stupid! What brand of retard do I look like? You are supposed to be the boy here! I know that sounds bratty but hear me out... It has taken a long time and a lot of frogs to figure some stuff out. Here are the big points Madigan has tried to drill into my head.

#1. Whatever current guy can not/will not do there are 10 other guys begging to (even if only at 1st). So he'd better have a really over compensating aspect about him if he is squashing what is most important to you. (i.e. I love him. He gets a lot of other stuff right. He's really sweet. He's a great guy.)

#2. Guy in a bar is just for temporary entertainment purposes. They are amusing. They are fun. We do not look for lasting connections.

#3. You may be a great guy, but I have to see it for myself to want to talk to you. No entertaining some guy because he was the only one showing you attention at that time. No. bad. That is what your friends are for. Using guys for attention always backfires.

#4. No putting up with B.S. up front. He is the boy, dating is supposed to be super great at the beginning (at the very least). If it's bull in the beginning, it's not about to get any better.

Does this sound like an article in Glamour yet (icky!) but for the most part, it's all pretty true. What sucks is that I still had to learn it- why? because apparently I look like the sucker of the universe. and various frogs with a**hole potential can see it a mile away. So we ignore LLM?

On to the crush... I refer to a quote from Disgrace... came across it last night and boy did it hit home. "[a woman] Who thinks, because he comes from the big city, because there is a scandal attached to his name, that he makes love to many women and expects to be made love to by every woman who crosses his path."

The sentiment is similar to one expressed by Francisco in Atlas Shrugged (don't have the book in front of me to quote)... he has a certain reputation which is furthered by him letting other believe he is sleeping with a myriad of women. Who all carry and further the lie because they can not fathom that a man who has the reputation of loving (or using) women would not consider them a conquest.

In other words... to be desired by one who a connoisseur of sorts, makes one that much more desirable. A messed up sense of validation, isn't it. It drives home because of the daydream. Yesterday he comes over to say hi and says he doesn't know how to say "beautiful" in Hindi yet but he will know by the next time he sees me. And later I saw him greet and grin for another very pretty girl. I can't say I was jealous... that's what he does... but it was kind of like... "ok. I need to save myself a hell of a lot of embarrassment and not speak to him anymore."

Of course, darling Ricky and Bat-girl are both like "WHO CARES WHO ELSE HE SPEAKS TOO? NONE OF THE OTHER PRETTY GIRLS ARE YOU!" They swear if he knew I was even slightly interested that he would jump at the chance. Bat-girl says if he can say Beautiful in Hindi that I should take it as a sign that he passed the preliminary round. After all, she says I am witty and challenging (though it has been my experience that men prefer the smile and nod type) and I am not throwing anything at him, he seeks to speak to me. I think Bat-girl is ridiculously biased. :)

In depressing news, I sat outside to read (and thaw!) for a bit this morning. Some yuk-head walks by and says "I always see you with your nose stuck in a book. Why do you read all the time?" To which I say... "Because a woman's greatest asset is still her mind." and it is.

Update: So LLM calls and leaves on my v-mail that he would understand if I didn't want to get a drink- or "know him in the light of day" (the pun is just too great!) and says in French "...ahh well, the man proposes but it is up to the woman to decide." Ok, that makes me want to meet him for that drink. But I think he was shorter than me (though I wore obnoxious heels) and he definitley smoked. yuck... maybe he is too good at spitting B.S. to have that drink. maybe another time. for today it is still no.

This is what I am doing with my last 1/2 hour of my workday.

I was early to work because I knew I'd get smacked today. Good day. I finished all I needed to. So now I could get a jump on tomorrow... or I can blog.

Back to Saturday... up in a tree. My grandmother is here until October the 1st. Which is great because she is incredibly entertaining. I love my mouse- that's what I call her. She loves me. She is soooo wierd. She is not always an easy person to love, but maybe neither am I. She loves me... most of the time- but there was that time that she accused me of stealing her glasses to hurt her feelings... my mom had picked up the wrong case and mouse was still mad because she thought my mom was 'protecting' me. what?! I guess every family has to have a little bit of wierd. and boy do we have lots. The funniest thing about my mouse is that she is very racist. Not like today's slightly politically correct, but not really... I mean like old-school racist. Give her a mic and a crowded room- she can give 2 sentences and offend EVERYBODY- I'm pretty sure that is a marketable talent somewhere.

But I digress. She is like 78 and looks late 50's easily. She's incredibly active to the point that it is annoying. Case in point she asked for help with something (didn't say what) on Sat... much like with mom, I don't ask- I just find very old clothes and I go. Saturday it was up a tree... to cut down most of it with a bow-saw which may have just as well been a butter knife. But I love her, so I do it. Afterwards, I go inside to get water for both of us and my mom is complaining about how much of the tree mouse has cut. I go outside and mouse is glowing about how much more breeze is going to reach the hammock and how happy my mom is going to be when she sees it... and I try not to snort water up my nose.

I had to go to yet another bridal shower and left my cute little grandma sitting in the grass using pair of cutters to make mulch out of the branches and leaves. and I am happy that I am the happy median that both my mom and grandmother have between each other. They love each other but never fail to get on each other's nerves. Which is bad because mom's mouth has no filter... and mouse has started to take it personally... she cries- which is wrong. Old people should not have anything to cry about- especially after the extra-ordinarily difficult life mouse has led. So I buy mom a piece of her favorite cake, take it to her work and tell her to stop being a jerk... but with cake! (See how that is different than normal "Stop being a jerk"?)

Dream killer had people over for the game- He called like 3 to see where I was- I had to bring Shiner... I thought he was over Friday night. It was cool, it was fun. He walked me to my car and hugged me before I left. Liar, traitor, shister! He was not over SH*T. Sunday all the angry words abounded.

and this girl was still 'serene tree frog'. so there. (small ick- less ick and usual)

"This song makes my heart smile"

It is in quotes because someone else wrote it. The song is 'Incredible' by the Shapeshifters. The video (on youtube.com) is terrible. It's skateboarders. I am using this to help Sugar Smax coreograph (put together) something for fall showcase for her 9-13 year olds. I love this song. I see it as a pas de deux in a totally funky sense. Part salsa, part lyrical, mostly modern ballet. it could work. Today it makes me bounce around my office.

Blogging at the speed of light!

I haven't blogged since Thursday! wow. That seems like such a lifetime ago- so much as happened. We'll hit the big points and fill in as much as we have time for.

Friday-I grew some balls
Saturday- Hung out in a tree with my Grandma and that call in the 4th b/t LSU vs. Auburn was CRAP!
Sunday- All the angry words that I knew were coming from Friday finally showed up

right, so off we go.
Mentor is in town (stretched for 2 weeks so she can help with my personal statement which needs to be done a month ago) and when I am with her I remember how much I miss her. We had drinks Friday- I got graduation/birthday money. Dream-Killer showed up.

DK and I were supposed to go Salsa dancing at like 1030. He was early- he got pissy because he said I only said 5 words to him. As Mentor and I were leaving, we found him outside sulking. She pulled me aside to make arraignments for when I would see her next. She left.

DK and I go to the Wine Loft. The loft is not where salsa dancing is. I am not happy. We then go to where salsa is and the cover is like $10. I carry no cash so he goes upstairs to get it from the bar- he comes down and says we are not staying because there is no one fun there and we go back to the loft. I am confused and less happy than before. Then he proceeds to insult Mentor. "She's such a F**king B**ch!" He also enlightens me that the only reason she is my mentor and sees such potential in me is because she is gay and is biding her time to turn me out as well. to which I politely excuse myself to the bathroom... and I meant to go to the bathroom... but I found the door instead. Yep, I left him at the bar and went salsa dancing.

Before you think I'm crazy girl, let me explain. I have a handful of people that I am loyal to a fault to. Mentor is one, DK is another. She does not trash him (though she counsels me to be very very cautious. She remembers that he hit me.) During the course of our 'relationship' he was and is very protective of me. Sometimes that becomes borderline controlling. I don't know why he is but he is extremely insecure about every relationship. He thinks I love everyone else more than him- though there have been time that he has held up my world.

Sitting there with my night slowly going down hill- it occurred to me. I had my keys, my ID, and my debit card in my pocket. The only thing he provided was company- and it wasn't even good company. I have a job that pays me enough. If I want a drink I can buy myself one, if I want 6, I can afford that too. I was taking myself home anyway. and it really brought into focus how much I take from him. no mas. no ma'am.

Had I sat there I would have either had words with him there or drank too much wine and had words with him later. Granted my terrible action only put it off until Sunday. But believe me when I tell you I had the most fun Salsa dancing. Met some guy who was French-Lebanese and spent the rest of the night proposing. Somewhere about 2, he went to find a piece of paper to give me his # (I left cell in the car) and I snuck out and left him too.

Follow-up blogs to follow.

Oh and let me stress how wrong I realize I was, and am not trying to justify my childish response in any way. Except that I don't regret it at all.

Who Knew- Part II

1. Who knew that sometimes Urban Relationship Myths come true?

For instance... did you hear the one about the guy who thinks he's a player... and has a good girl who loves him pretty close to unconditionally and he is still chasing tail? She comes over to cook for him, does his laundry even, and is under the impression that they are in a relationship... he is boinking other people for all he's worth. He moves away- she contemplates following him... she calls and calls him... he tells his favorite Kiran how annoying she is...

and then one day... he realizes she is the best thing that has ever happened to him (the Laundry girl, not the Kiran- though the Kiran rocks pretty righteously). He wants to move back, they are going to live together. and today he starts the rumor that he is going to ask her to marry him. who knew... which brings me to #2

2. Who knew this would make me want to cry... tears of happiness to be sure, but I have seen my Bunkles grow so much. and I'm so proud of him. and I am happy he is ready to be worthy of the Laundry girl. Sadly it gives me hope that other bone heads learn to behave themselves eventually.

3. Who knew that guys believed in the fairy tales almost as much (if not more) than women do. The big difference is we focus on the forever (Now that we are married, he's going to build my dream house and take out the trash on Sundays and help with the dishes...) vs. they focus on the Superbowl known as the wedding (I did it! I'm done! That's all that's expected of me!)

4. In related news, who knew that he would be comtemplating marriage 1st... wow. can't get over that. didn't see it coming. spell it backwards.... wow.

I blame JD

Decided not to blog Joules, the matter of her has been sufficiently handled. To blog it, I am not sure I could do it in such a way that would not present her in a bad light. And people that know her read this. and that would be unconscionable. So on to Disgrace- I am loving it! I totally see why it won the Nobel Prize in literature. 5 chapters in- it is an easy read but so thought provoking. Wow. How funny that is about a professor of communications with a passion for classic poetry- who dreams of his life's work being a full blown opus; though he has no musical training. He feels the need to have certain 'needs' satisfied and I am fascinated at his ways of solving this for himself. Yet, I thought it funny that if I were to guess the bigger secret for him- I would say it was the opus thing and not the disgraceful actions on his part (and how interesting that in each situation the disgrace is his and not any of the hers).

Which brings me to the www.secret.com/share. it is the website for the women's deodorant SECRET and the share goes with the ad campaign centered around women sharing what they consider their deepest secrets. Don't go to the site, it's depressing. Kris sent me a pic of one of the posters from a train station, that one was pretty good. But most of the ones on the site are sheer drivel. A lot of it is the whiny blah blah "I want to be loved" duh, don't we all "he doesn't want me", "I'm not over him"... and this is your BIG secret. This is what will part the waters and dry the seas? That's it? surely we can do better than that! So it makes me wonder what mine would be... I don't know I'm still thinking....

Right, so Hippo-head (or hypocrite if you still don't speak 'Kiran') that I am- on to the Warrior (or daydream if you like). I said I was not going to circuit train at all this week, just cut myself off cold turkey to see if I did like him... Bat-girl talked me into going yesterday... Before I tell you what happened I guess I should give background.

Like I said, he and Bama are friends- at first I didn't think he was that good looking, but obviously his body is perfect, and I think if I follow him around long enough I will look perfect too. His energy and enthusiasm are infectious. He closes with a few yoga poses (very old post) and does teach a yoga class. He is very charismatic. He is one of those guys that can look at you in a class of 100 and make you feel like you are the only one in the room. I totally understand his fan club. The way Bama told me about it a long time ago was that he gets 'it' thrown at him a lot... and he doesn't always say no... Well now, I most certainly am not going to be THAT girl. I don't have to throw my flower anywhere. so there.

Before circuit training, I do the abs from the class before (Navrathri is coming and I need the abs of a goddess). I am a creature of habit and pull my mat in the same place, put my bag in the same place, etc. He comes by to say "Hi, beautiful" and does the little game-show-host smile and goes away. Sometimes during circuit training, he will run with me or whatever, and makes stupid small talk but not really. And here's the kick in the head... We've never had a whole conversation- I think I tried once or twice and he responds... but as he is walking away... what is that? He has whole conversations with other people. but not so much me. why? but the whole time he's grinning like a cheese monkey.... confused. It makes no sense. I know by the end of class I smell bad but not worse than anyone else. Maybe he's just magically busy when I get there? ick.

So yesterday I was a little early because my building lost power and I snuck (sp?) out. I wait for the other class to do abs and he bops over and says "Hey, beautiful" and my cheesy attempt at flirting is "When are you going to say it in Hindi?" he says "Tell me how to" and I say "No, you are supposed to say it to me." He says "I will learn and get back to you." so that's good, right? no it is harmless flirting....

and I feel like I have a huge flashing neon sign above my head! this is so embarrassing. double ick, massive ick, icky icky, all the ick!

I seem to have misplaced my cookies.

New insight to le monde de moi... when I am stressed, flustered, frustrated, or even disconcerted (they may not seem that different but they are) I lose things. Nay, I lose everything important... actually only everything important right then. Credit card/ debit card/ license etc. The list as it stands for this morning...

1. My glasses. I have contacts, I usually wear my contacts all the time. The glasses make me look smart. I wanted to wear them yesterday so over the weekend I put them in the special "This is where my glasses will be so they are not lost" spot. Ask me where that spot is? no clue. So wherever they are, I meant for them to be there and they are not lost.

2. My books. I am currently reading 2. Disgrace (that is the pic) more on the book later (hint: there is a tie in with www.secret.com/share) and Assata. As in Assata Shakur the black revolutionary (she calls herself this- so then do I). Chi-squared bought it for me, the least I could do was read it, it's pretty good though not having the earth-shaking effect he thought it would. As I prepare to leave the house this morning- I have gym bag, purse, books, and coffee in tow. I get to my parking lot and grab purse and coffee... and look for books...

I have a sinking feeling I left them on the hood of my car. God knows where they are.

3. Cell phone. Cell phone is not 'lost' today. Though I have been through a good many of these. It is very comfortable on the night stand next to my bed. nice. So I am cut off from most of the outside world besides e-mail because I don't remember #s. friggin nice.

Right so that is the list as of 8:30 this morning. Yesterday's list was great too. Yesterday was not great. I flaked on grown-up drinks and re-scheduled for this coming Tuesday. Why? because the point of the net-working is to impress people enough to find someone who is willing to take a chance on me. By the time I left here yesterday I felt anything but impressive.

I even chose not to make the 8 p.m. performance of Pilobolus. They are a dance company on-tour, I've seen them twice before in different cities, they are amazing! Last night was the only night they were here and I curled up on the couch with my books. and truthfully I felt better for it.

Daydream is Circuit training guy which is most inconveinent. Why? Bama is the Aquatics Director at the gym. They are friends. Bama is the one who bullied me into circuit training. The worst part is that it is possible that the only reason I am crushing is because I want circuit guy to be interested in me. He has a whole fan club that follows his every move. More on the exchange or lack there of to follow.

So post for later today is 1. Joules 2. Disgrace and 3. the Warrior. and time (and attention spans) permits... Happy Birthday to my Happy Drunk Ken Doll.

Update: I just remembered what I was using as bookmarks in my books. One was the invitation to apply to George Washington University and the waiver for the application fee and the other was a note written on a napkin from the Dream-Killer. He's having people over for the Auburn game this weekend and passed me a note at a coffee shop that I have to come because he bought Italian ices just for me (because I can eat them even when my tummy is upset). I kept the note to save for a rainy day. Again- I feel like a big dumb dummy head.

Beasts of Burden

I believe in the power of a "feel better lunch". And I was fortunate enough to have one with Bond today. He checked in this morning and was met with a tiny voice on the other end of the phone (mine) stating the obvious... Something has got to happen soon. I am doing everything I am supposed to and busting my butt- it's just got to. Darling Ricky just found another position- definitely a step up for him- not lateral but really UP! I am elated. Not just for him, but because it was with something I helped him with... so that must mean said talent is about to work for me?! Something has just got to open up! C'mon oyster-world.

Tomorrow evening I am having grown up drinks with the woman at my site that I want to be. She thinks I'm great. She thinks I've outgrown my dept- I agree. We are having drinks with her women's circle of the most influential women she can pull together- She says we are going to find me another job. I feel very much like a geisha. Yet, as I am on a wing and a prayer- who am I to complain?

Back to lunch. Once upon a time a sit down lunch was the ultimate reward. I had school until 2 and came straight to work, lunch was usually a PB&J on the way. The only way I got to eat real lunch was to skip a class (which I felt guilty for) or when I got out early... and then on one such day...I got lunch to go from my favorite restaurant and went to the 'park' to eat. On the way I passed a woman who works in my building- she was smoking outside. She turned and smiled weakly and went back to her cigarette. The whole exchange lasted less than 3 seconds but something in her eyes stuck with me. I walked all the way to the park before I realized what it was. I don't know this woman personally, but I know tons of people like her. She does the job she has done for 20 some odd years and whatever it is involves pushing paper. I make more than she does (and though it is $100,000 that isn't in U.S. dollars) and that made me sad. She watches the clock to see when people go to lunch, or take a break, come in or leave late. and she tattles. Ready for what it was that I was in her eyes? You know what it is... It is the picture.

It was the dull, lifeless gaze of a beast of burden. It was the embodiment of what it is to be beaten down. I have to say it knocked the wind out of me and took my appetite with it. It made me so ashamed of myself for all of the days that I was whiny about wanting hot lunch instead of fast food or a sandwich. As Bond has to keep telling me, you are given more because you can take it. Anytime you are ready to quit, understand you will pay the price for failure for the rest of your life. Somehow I just couldn't be her.

Back to lunch with Bond... He says "tell me about the job search and do it with a smile". I do. and he says "good". I tell him about Joules (story to follow this morning) and he says "was your ultimate goal to keep her?" and I say yes and he says "then you did the right thing". But I am still paying for it... He points out the minute I leave so to will she. I can only carry her for so long. For today we sing Puff the Magic Dragon and fight the good fight.

For whatever it's worth.

...I hate it when people do this...

and yet I am about to do the exact same thing. I remember I stopped writing because I didn't think I was any good. A lot of that has to do with how much terrible crap of other people's I've read. The kick in the head there was that people would bring me their stuff for me to read and critique... and I was 2 beats away from making them sign waivers not to get upset at my suggestions or promise not to cry. I'm saying that I am an expert at anything... which led me to look more critically at my stuff. Each person would come to me with eyes full and heart open just knowing that I was about to say what a natural talent they were... and I never had to words to say they weren't. I don't think it is fair for us to take anyone's dreams.

Anyway, JD- once I was where you are in a manner of speaking. Bad as my writing is- It helped. and sometimes looking back at it reminds of where I've been and what made it better. The following I found just to blog for you- it's called "Drew-bee". My Drew-Bee said something to try to make me feel better and this was the thought process that came from it. If you need it, I'll blog the what it was supposed to mean later. In the mean time- maybe you will find something you need.

Drew-Bee
"...things don't happen TO you, they just happen."

it almost sounds serendipitous,
and even I like the way that sounds

the playful words that play with fate,
as if one could play with it

write it like a song
a song for a lyre
and play a line on a line
like it wasn't a line written
forever ago

etched in wrinkles of time
left like a treasure map
in the hands of one
but written on another
and left for the eyes of even fewer

sing the songs of the ancients, love
and make me believe we are the only ones
whimsical, musical, fanciful
woodland nymphs
with woodworked music
and fluted throught the forest of all of my time
between us, that must be what there is...

the ancients we pass,
that heal our past
with a stream to wash it smooth
like sacred jal, given to the earth
where we learn to lay the rest of it down

and dream of days... when all that shouldn't happen,
doesn't.

who knew?

Welcome to our 1st installment of "Who knew?"...

1. Who knew that the Jeff that commented on JD's blog was really a super hero? "super hero?" you ask... well yes... how else does one explain his gross appearance as both CAPTAIN OBVIOUS and TECHNICALLY-ADROIT ENGINEERING- GUY- LOOKING- AT- A-NON-PRACTICAL PROBLEM.
(don't get upset if you read that Jeff- it's a joke... or maybe not, but mostly so :)
which brings me to ...

2. Who knew I was that biased towards JD? ummm... everybody!

3. Mr. Chang apparently did have issues with me.... I burped. It was incredibly un-feminine. I had to call people and tell them, it was quite funny. and yet Bat-Girl is sure that is not the end of the pseudo-crush... especially since my tummy still feels funny. and the object is bit of a man-whore... to which I can not be too judgmental about as I have been called a.... #4

4. Who knew there was such a thing as an "Intellectual Whore"? and wow... and I was told I am one by the guy working on his masters in philosophy, so it was much of the pot on the phone trying to reach the kettle. Such a being (the IW) seeks out stimulating conversation... the downside to that is that in most of academia the better minds come with lesser bodies. So they entertain what they consider better bodies with lesser minds as someone regarding them as the sun... when they are no longer seen as the sun... they get angy.

Apparenty Mr. Philosophy once upon a time felt slighted- we had lunch to patch him up one day and out comes #5....

5. "You were the girl I thought I would marry"... who knew you could hear that after hanging out with someone for less than 2 months? I knew him in high school, I saw him later in life, I thought we were cool.... I was wrong and I freely admit that.

I think that's all I have for now.

Cheers.

Warning... Too much Billable Time may result in obnoxious gi-normous crushes

This afternoon is great. one might say.....gggggggrrrrrreeeaaaatttt!

Oh and happiness is unexpected P.F. Changs. Especially when one of us (me or maybe you) was dangerously close to not having lunch at all. I have so much work, and didn't want to go pick something off. And Chi-squared shows up and says "hurry and come get your lunch, the lettuce is going to wilt!" yep, lettuce wraps because I am afraid that everything from there is really bad for me (i read it in a women's magazine- so it must be true...but that is a different post).

I digress, so I actually stopped to eat with Bianca (like the mouse from the rescuers) and Bianca's sidekick. Sometimes it is good to step away and sit with people who have warm hearts. Just talking with them is like a warm cup of cocoa. And I came back with a completely different outlook. better.

and as I sit here and listen to my radio blog (fyi you can set up your own juke blog if you didn't know) my thoughts drift... and I feel my cheeks get hot, and my tummy feels funny... and I wonder if Mr. Chang is about to have an argument with me... no it is the certain someone I am thinking of. and I say wow... I have a full blown crush... I haven't done that in I don't know how long. That or I am really having issues with lunch. I'll let you know tomorrow.

Dream-Killer in a nutshell...

I shall try to explain him without being negative because truly he is more good than bad, but depending on whether he is currently upset with me- sometimes I forget that. For all intents and purposes ;) he is my 2nd best friend, 2nd only to the Magical Jenny-Bear. He knows this and would have it no other way. Further with intent and purpose ( ;) squared) he is the ex-boyfriend of almost 2 years ago. He has been one of the greatest lessons in being able to appreciate people for all the wonderful they have inside of them, even if it is not for you. I do love him but am not in-love with him. He does love me, but is not in-love with me. We've were friends for years and thought a relationship made sense- I say it was 4 months, he remembers the dating as a couple of years but whatever. The relationship part was not good. It was not all bad, but there was one defining moment/action on his part that makes him never an option ever again. I have forgiven him to be sure. I have learned how not to hold it against him, but as a women it is important to run from that kind of potential. Maybe he doesn't have it with anyone else, but he damn sure had it with me.

and yet- the other day I stopped by after circuit training and am sitting on the living room floor venting about something or other- I was good and angry too. He walks into the other room as a "Garnier" commercial comes on and my rant becomes about how the commercial is lying, because it does not make your hair look like that because I tried it... and he sticks his head in to look and says "Why are you fussing for no reason, your hair always looks like that" and goes away. and i sit in stunned silence. He comes back with a cold bottle of water and says I need to stay for dinner because he put a chicken breast on the stove next to his steak and I need protein." and I wanted to cry, because he got one right.

As my friend. he is wonderful. All of the things that made me want to choke him until his peanut sized head popped off, are non-issues. Arguments never last as long or get as bad. and he is still the safety for those times when you just don't want to show up alone.

He has seen me through the hardest situation I have ever been faced with, barnone. He handled it with better grace than I had and helped drag me through my everyday to find a bit of normalcy when I was afraid of my own shadow. and he has changed over 30 flat tires. In the heat, in the rain, on the side of the road, sometimes 3 at a time. He comes from a humble greatness (I think so highly of his family) and has so much potential. Animals and children love him. He is in law school for the 2nd time, this time it has to work. He is always well-dressed and stylish. He was an athlete in college and doesn't have to work out to still look like it. From him I have also learned the hard way- What you see is not always what you get.

To listen to him for 5 minutes, you would think that this was a man that went home to a house where the gates just opened automatically. He is more blessed than most and has yet to establish himself as worthy of such blessings. But his family is so supportive that it doesn't matter what he does or doesn't do. They will love him unconditionally and would carry him as long as he needs to be carried. I've never seen anything like it.

He is the dream killer because I say- "I looked at a position in Chicago" he says "Why do you want to move to Chicago, it's cold, you don't know anyone there, it's expensive- you won't make enough money to have real fun...etc." I say Tulane is my dream school and I am taking the LSAT one more time and still putting in that app just to see, because it's my dream and I owe it to myself to swing for the fences... he says "How will you pay for it? Where will you live? How will you pay the loans off? Your wasting money on the application process...etc"

and to be fair... his points are valid... and I've always felt that if I could deflect all of the questions he threw at me over a given situation then my idea could hold water. but now his words don't mean so much because I've had so many. and at some point you have to hear something positive about yourself... I can't get every single thing wrong all the time... right?

85.6% random...100% goofy

1. They are doing construction downtown- not around the building where I work but I pass them on my trek from the parking lot. I can see them from here. They wear diffent colored hard hats- not just yellow but bright blue (almost neon) light green and I swear I saw a pink one (or maybe I wanted to see a pink one since I have a pink one). They amuse me. from up here they remind me of the SIMS with the little jewels above their heads... it makes me wonder... If my life were like a great big SIM game... what would it be called? "the SIMS stuck in purgatory"? "Mythical SIMS" (i.e. lots of fairyness). hmmm... dunno.

2. Had words with mommiey on Sunday. That never happens, so you know it was something ridiculously stupid. one of those principle things... wanna how it ended? I locked me keys in my car last night like a big dumb dummy head. I had to call her at work to see if she had my spare on her. She did not. I looked very grown up getting the dream-killer to take me to the hopital so I could steal her truck, go to her house- get my key- go back to the hospital and drive her out to my car so I could get in it... and she could go back to work. I know it was an inconveinence to her (and the dream-killer) and I felt so bad, especially since she was still mad at me. But she says "you're human- you made a mistake. it happens"... and suddenly it's all better.

3. Back to the dream killer- he was mad, I woke him up. Especially since I locked my keys in my car 3 weeks ago. But that time I didn't even need his help. So he fusses the whole way to the hospital and I say I'm sorry I didn't do it on purpose. He says why didn't I check that I had my keys- I say I was running late, plus on the way to the Habitat meeting I had to stop to get something to eat because I didn't eat lunch... and then he REALLY got mad. "Why are you worried about being late for something that is for CHARITY?! They do not pay you, in case you didn't notice..." My snappy comeback? "Fine, I did do it on purpose it is an elaborate game to validate to myself who loves me and who doesn't"... His snappy comeback? "Whatever, you still have a lumpy head."

Further why he is the dream-killer? because he is the voice of reason/devil's advocate.

after somebody's wedding (this IS the year of the weddings) I remember sitting on his porch with a cup of something. The weddings sort of get to a single girl after a while. You try not to let it, and yes I am happy for everyone in the world, but sometimes it's a bit easy to say "why not me? I know that girl and she's nuttier than a fruitcake... but she has forever and ever... and I had cake"... to which the ever sensitive dream-killer says... "So, basically you are sad because you do not have a husband that you do not want?" exactly. because I do want one but not just ANYone.

So in the meantime I have the dream-killer who does not ever cut his words with me (which I am grateful for even if it never says what I want it to) but would do anything in his power to make sure that I never felt I had to do something stupid to get attention from some guy. and that's a good thing, even if he is the dream-killer.

The Fearless Hunter

As per my last blog- here is the story of my mom. She calls as I am driving to work with ... "Do people here eat raccoons?" To which I say "some do"... It's mom... This could really literally be going anywhere. She asks if I want her to try to cook one... This I do not want. Let me explain my mom... She is the "bitty bitty moms" she is 5'3" and about a 103 lbs. very vegetarian Indian mom. But she is willing to try to learn how to make anything and over the years has done her darndest to assimilate with holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving. She really is adorable... especially when she has no clue what she's doing.....

So I ask her where she is getting a raccoon to cook... this is south LA, this is a very important question. She says she doesn't have it yet but she's about to find him and hit him with a shovel. Between my Coke, mom, and laughing so hard I couldn't breath... I had to pull over.

Further probing led me to turning around and going to mom's. Apparently the dogs next door found an animal and were giving it a hard time. It took refuge by using the whole in the fence she uses to slip them biscuits to hide in mom's garden. My cocker spaniel and the lab mix were apparently against this and started to give it hell. We put the dogs on leashes and opened the gate to try to let the animal out into a field near her house. It was an armadillo and his behind had been beaten up, it was a bit bloody but his little legs were fine. They more look like flesh wounds if it possible for armadillos to have flesh wounds.

Armadillos are a lot like raccoons... except not at all.

So mom asks if wanted her to try to make something with armadillo in it... after all she had pulled out the shovel and she still might be able to catch it. Tantalizing as that may have been I kissed her on the forehead and found the interstate back to work.

My Life As a Sit-com

Wow. So much great stuff, I don't know how I'm going to fit it all in. Lets back up to 4 o'clock Wednesday afternoon when my boss whom I like very much- dumps a "project" of pulling together a "creative" presentation encompassing a major "issue" between the 2 groups she manages... for a 10 o'clock departmental meeting on Thursday. Evil Death Stares (EDS- learn it, live it, love it) abounded.

Neither group was much help, I mostly freaked about all of the bad implications it carried as a by-product... you never want to tell someone what your issues with them are in a very public forum. Said person conveniently fails to see all the people you represent and focus on it was you that said it. That said, it went surprisingly well. It magically came together- largely because it was pulled out of my bum and was well received.

On to HK... the background you get on HK is that one day I got off of the elevators and accidently overheard a piece of a "discussion" with her new husband in which she poignantly told him that she married him because she loved him and not because she ever thought he could buy her a....... wait for it...... trust me you want to sit down..... it's coming and I need you to be ready.... "MANSION TRAILER". The 1st thought that went through my mind was "God does not like ugly, god does not like ugly, god does not like ugly..." and when I realized I had yet to burst into flames as proof of his wrath... I though "that is pretty great... what is a mansion trailer, where does one buy one of these, how much are they, can you still drive a mansion trailer around?" I have to say that Mansion Trailer has gotten me through some rough spots in my day.

So HK is going elsewhere and the girlies take her out for margaritas as is fitting... Hey, remember that time that we went out and HK thought it was a good ideas to invite the Office Depot guys that deliver our office supplies... right that was last night. That and Joules. Joules who is the lesson in making the most of everyday. She has rocked out her entire life and doesn't plan on stopping... or retiring... or spending time with the husband that has stage 4 cancer though he loves her like men do in fairy tales. At 70-something he still leaves her love notes... but I digress.

So we are the place for Margaritas and with much chagrin I have to say that my entourage were the screaming set at the end of the bar. and Joules is doing the jitterbug with the office depot guy. It is wrong on so many levels... the dancing, the amount of people, the caliber of people... but most of all the desperation that oozed from some of the girls we were with... and some of the men clamoring to talk to them, and all of the ways that people are looking for a meaningful connection in a bar. wow. so I want to leave but it is the outing that is all about HK, and the dream-killer did put down the books to come out for a second. So we stay and overall it was interesting... but makes me think that instead of circuit training in a class of 100, I shall enjoy the 4.2 mile run of the lakes. the solitude looks good to me, especially staring down the barrell of a concert by the "Chee Weez" at 10. ick.

Later I shall blog the call from mommiey... "Do people here eat racoons?"

Duels Part Deux

Did you catch the word play there? Duality... dual... duels... aliteration... all the d's?

right, so back to business. There is so much paper on my desk that I fully believe files are breeding like rabbits. And instead of attacking it I am blogging. nice.

Good/Bad thus far... Coming in to my department I got smacked with a door. It was a good cartoon sounding smack too. It may have even shook the building... not to worry, I'm a bit hard headed. My retractable badge broke so I stole another from the super secret stash... and the soundtrack for today is a great one... Stevie Wonder- Sir Duke/ The Clash- Rock the Casbah/ KT Tunstall- Suddenly I See/ Bellini- Samba de Janiero/ Earth Wind and Fire- Let's Groove and September/ lots of Santana/ rounded out with remixed Hindi music. The temp from upstairs has a name for the dance I do around my office... he's just jealous. He uses my candy dish as an excuse to come by and try to catch me when I think no one is paying attention.

JD- buck up about the impending nuptuals, the best part of weddings is the retarded dancing. If you are lucky you have an 'interesting' uncle who will tie his tie on his forehead and swing his jacket over his head like a lasso. good times are about to ensue- I can just tell!

Duality of Days

Further with the wonderful month... then on to the "Bama should not speak"...

As I continue to repeat, this is the greatest month, sadly it is about to end. Outside of the milestones I have to say that literally I can tell you about something good from everyday. Now there are not-so-good things as well, but ultimately more good than bad. Case in point this morning...

Late to work (bad) it doesn't really matter because my peers send me to market when I am late- i.e. happy gourmet breakfast for me (good). The guy at one of the counters gives me the biggest pieces of Frittatas (good) today they were pre-cut and small (bad) so he warms them up and charges me less for them (good). He is so sweet I feel bad to tell him that they are not ever for me... he thinks I LOVE them.

on to Celeste's where I actually get breakfast from. Her staff used to wonderful. They close at 2 but there are people there until 4. When I got to work too late to get lunch, she or her head girl would still make me a sandwich or at least let me get ice cream on a super crappy day. Last week I stumbled in at 2:15 and a new girl was counting $. I asked if I could get ice cream and she rolls her eyes and tells me they are closed. Which for all tense and purposes I acknowledge they were, fine. But I am willing to put gloves on and scoop it myself, I would pay more for it- why would you be mean to me? A friend was with me and said something to the effect of "Now you know how everyone else gets treated." Excuse me?

But her breakfast is better than anywhere else, so I show up for a croissant with spinach, tomatoes, and mozzerlla. Same girl rolls her eyes and says she's going to charge me more for the croissant because it is not a biscuit... Celeste walks up and tells her not to- and goes to her oven to pull me a fresher one. I tell Celeste her staff is different and I don't think I will be getting food from anyone but her.

So my office and my friends have a theory that people treat me differently, and in some cases they are right. But I think their theories as to why are wrong.

1. obviously I am not sleeping with all of these strangers and all of these people cannot possibly be wanting to sleep with me
2. some people argue that most of them are not getting anything out of being nice to me, and I slightly disagree
3. the boys obviously say it is a result of how you look (i.e. more or less attractive, more or less expensively clothed, more or less intimidating) in some cases maybe but not necessarily.

I think everybody should work in some aspect of having to deal with the public constantly for a certain amount of time. It will change the way you treat people. There is a way to get better service- ask. don't demand, ask. quietly, politely, making eye contact, and most of all not backing down. I would let ice cream go because they were closed, I'd even pay more for a different type of bread. So if you owned a counter at market, why would you be nice to me? I fully accept I am not the source of your existence- you provide a service for money. I want service, I pay money. Without me, you have a line out the door of people who will give you their money. That said, if you are good to me I will tell everyone in line how great you are. If there is someone pushy and angry, I will let them skip me because I'd rather you dealt with them as fast as possible, so you are less stressed to handle me. I am always happy to see you, and most times that makes you happy to see me. If I could ever help you, rest assured I would. Too often we are not dealing with the people whose business you affect, but their minimum wage representatives. act accordingly.

That was really just too long. Talking to the director of the Big Buddy Program- she is schmucking me into being a buddy- apparently I get all of the little girls who are on the brink of having issues but still more good than bad. Chi-squared calls me a fairy- now they all call me a fairy (Honestly! what bond girl was ever called a fairy?!) and Bama bops over and weighs in- apparently I do not intimidate anybody- he called me a pacifist. in fact he says that's what most people think...me and Ghandi (yes he used the reference). and this point I have to remind myself that it would be rude to right hook him in his jaw- after all there are people around. ick.

Do you know what today is?

Today is the one year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. One year ago, I remember letting the dogs in, pulling out the hurricane box and filling all containers in the house with water. We heard it was going to be bad- but the only people who really freaked were the ones that freaked for every hurricane. Two years ago we were supposed to be hit with 2- we got off of school and everything... wanna what happpened? Hurricane parties on the parade ground!

At the end of it, we were very lucky as was my whole city. Not so for N.O. (understatement of the year) the only damage was a bit to the roof, a fence at my moms, and all of the big oak trees were uprooted (enter lumber girl- nugget and I cleared them in 2 days with one chainsaw- dragged to the street and everything). There was no one else to do it, understandably. Madigan worked for the Governor's office- see whiny crying stupidest woman alive- and we all weathered the worst of the actual storm under the covers... You don't waste your batteries when you can listen the radio or tv at your neighbors house.

When it was over, we went outside to talk to the neighbors, we had no electricity for about a week, no phone, cell phones were blocked. If our water pumps (which run off of electricity) are run off of generator for 3 days they will shut down- which means no clean water for a few miles radius. See Hurricane Andrew... no clean water for a couple of weeks- that was scary. lots of food off of a grill, i was like 11 that was great. My mommiey is an orthopedic nurse. She basically lived at the hospital with me going back and forth and running errands like bringing food for her and checking on people.Then we heard about new orleans. school was closed, work was shut down. LSU opened the field house as a triage unit to take the overflow of medical patients and our stadium was a refuge for as many evacuees as could be bussed in before they began using the River Center. My friends and I spent our spare time volunteering to help pass out food, sort close, and entertain kids. We sorted through donations and put together toiletry kits, and tried to match people's medicines. Mommiey got off of work and came to triage with me because they needed medical personell.

The part that literally knocked the wind out of me was the old people. 1. It was quiet at night, but you don't realize how small you are until you see a track field full of cots with so many older people asleep- holding teddy bears and talking to them like real people as a way to deal with being all alone and not being able to find your family. They were like large children that didn't make sense. 2. the second was those same beds during the day. they were always tidy. with everything belonging to each person folded so small and put together to take up the smallest amount of space. Nothing hidden, because there was no where to hide it and each person trusted that the person next to him just wouldn't take his soap.

People talk about "those people" and what happened at the Superdome. I don't doubt it and I don't knock it. But that wasn't what came through my city. And today more than anything I and everyone I know folds their hands in Namaste and says a silent prayer for those people- and their loss.

It's too much today. We'll start on my beef with Newsweek tomorrow.

"Beware the Jabberwock"

WARNING: Excessively rambling blog to follow...this may turn into an official blog-series.

We have an interesting Tuesday ahead of us, so we will try to stay on track.

The quote is from Lewis Carroll's "Through the Looking Glass". I love it- the whole book. As a child, it made more sense than most poetry did. As an adult I can see so many more nuances- especially from a sociological standpoint. i.e. The point of today's blog- The looking glass self. I forget whose theory is was but the basic premise is that some of the way we identify ourselves is through the eyes of others. The reflection as it were. For those of you that haven't read Carroll in a while, flop it open, any page, and try to see it with those eyes... it is quite fantastic.

We'll start with Bride-Zilla. She gets married in October. I and three others from high school are in her wedding. I can't even say she is my friend, but she has no one else- and I feel like we should all at least try to make someone's special day- special. She has a whole brunch to tell us that we are expected to lose 2 dress sizes before then because she doesn't want any fat bridesmaids. Excuse me? Later that evening I find myself in a bar with the other 3 discussing our breaking point, and the exact date each of us will be telling her what she can do with a very lovely Vera Wang.

And here is the kick in the head on that issue. I work out- not as much as I used to, or do when I'm training for something. I am a dress size 6. She is asking for me to be a 2. That hasn't happened since senior year in high school, which only happend because of Varsity Tennis, dance team, and hitting the track everyday for 2 weeks before dances. Guess what size I'm going to be in October- probably a 6. What is further sad is that Megora called me offering Aderol for help with some of the extra weight...Listen here hefers... Hard as it is to concieve... I like myself. There are times I've felt heavy and sad going shopping and coming home with no new pants, but at the end of the day I'm pretty happy with me. And a spoiled princess is not going to make me do something unhealthy because she wants her pictures to look a certain way.

Further kick in head... she expect a wedding present from Mignon Faget with matching cuff links for her new hubbie because that is what I gave Jenny Bear. She's not getting a present. I'm not buying the dress (her parents are- it's bad when your parents have to beg people you know to be in your wedding) and I may or may not show up to any of the showers or the bachelorette party. ick.

But this has certainly been the year of the weddings- we are officially up to 6 and those are only what I have attended, not all of the invites from people I'm pretty sure I don't know. At one of the last ones I went to, it was on a plantation in the slave house (dream-killer's mom and I were trying to figure out if there was some kind of discount for getting hitched in 1/2 a barn). I had a good time. A lot of people had a lot of negative things to say about it. I don't think we should so much judge someone else's wedding- after all- it's theirs.

So the next day I get a call from a friend who was there who says "Was that not the ghetto-ist (not a word!) ever?!" and I say... "umm I missed that. The cake was good." To which she enlightens me... "Awwwww K! That's why you get invited to weddings... you look nice, smell good, show up, and say something nice." wow. at least I beat Marston... he gets invited because he brings expensive presents.

jd-responded to law school ? and i have the greatest funny for you when you're having a rotten day. you don't get it until then.

Would Bond call back if he got hung up on?

I am very blessed to have the people in my life that I do. Case in point... Bond, oh yeah James Bond. He is one of my mentors and truly larger than life. He is successful, compassionate, wealthy, humble, brilliant, and very very well-bred. And he believes in me. Through the years he has supported my writing (before I was consumed by self-doubt), my charity work, and personal and professional development. He is so patient with me- my other mentor always says she is envious of how much he treats me like his daughter.

One day last summer- between work, school, and a bona fide stalker I was 2 beats away from losing my cookies. He called to check in on me and invited me to a benefit he was hosting right after work at a fine dining restaurant. I mumbled that I was not appropriately dressed and would try to schedule a coffee with him Saturday morning instead. He asked why wasn't I appropriately dressed, after all I was going to work and you always dress for the job you want, not the job you have. Then I did lose my cookies- I burst into tears like the petulant child I swore I was not. So embarrassed, I hung up on him.

15 minutes later he called me back and asked if I was finished yet. I said yes, but his expectations of me were unfair- I was dealing with a lot. He said I was given so much because I could take it. That being smarter, faster, and stronger meant that your breaks were fewer and farther between. In being the best you can be, you create a lot of jealousy from all of the people around you who see themselves as less, and would rather scratch your eyes out than truly do better for themselves. Bond girls don't get to complain.

Fast forward to every conversation with my sister. Once it was a point of contention that she lives in squalor and works in a bar, and I went to college. That her life was so hard and I just didn't understand because I am perfect. Once there would have been an exchange of words... today she knows the standard response is "I'm sorry you feel that way, it sounds like a personal problem. Whenever you decide you want to do better- do. until then, I don't have time for tantrums."

I love her make no mistake, but no one handed me anything, not this job, not the better one, not anything ever. If we are a summation of the choices we make- then most people really do deserve their pasts, and everyday we don't change it, we accept our present.

If Bond is the lesson in patience, Kris (sister) is the lesson in never apologizing for blessings one has. We have all championed her cause and carried her flag for years, at some point she has to do some of the work and it is easier to help a stranger who will do more with the blessings I provide. and though there are days I feel sad that I can not save her- I still have to remember that she can.

Yuppy- Girl

The Fray- How to save a life.

Yes the song from the Grey's Anatomy trailer... right, so i pull it up on radioblogclub.com and put it on my blog... why? because on a sleepy Monday morning it gives me chills and threatens to choke me for I don't know why. and it's just a sappy song. but not really. and I am laughing at myself- surely I am not so simple? and another thing- I hate that show. I hate it because like everyone else I have to watch it. and its wretching. double ick. all the ick. ick.

Honorable Mention

Super cool! I got honorable mention from my new favorite blogger! I don't know how to put the link up yet- that will be the afternoon task to look forward to- but it is Billable Time by Jd. His blog is stinking adorable! We totally heart Jd, and here's why. I need him to work... not like to be employed but in life... In marriage or better marriage (which ever turns out to be the better situation) because he feels so familiar to me. He's obviously super intelligent (with non-typos that seem to pepper my blogs) and has an awesome sense of humor about himself. Witty and sensitive and a swimmer to boot?! C'mon!

More than that, he is familiar because I know people like him who have been kicked in the crotch by less than deserving women. And though we all have bad potential, with the right person said potential can be fantastical. And life is too short to be unhappy. We all do the best we know how with what we have right then. I sense that Jd is so much to many more people than he realizes. I further sympathize with the frustration he knows that with his achievements comes a myriad of people who will try to take credit for it, or villify him for doing well... i.e. "You think you are better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else" that the small people spit as a billboard of their insecurities. Like I've said before- total hearts from this side, and hugs and kisses from far far away.

Had I really liked him, this could have sucked!

So birthday dinner got put on hold. Tuesday was the official start of Law School and the dream-killer would not have been able to make it till ridiculously late- it's not that big of a deal, after all this month has literally been the "YAY ME!" month. So monday BAMA stretches with me after circuit training (as he does) and asks about the weekend, and I told him about rocking out in the Z... to which he says "why?" to which I say "Birthday!" and he says "not yours, huh?"... wow was that as irritating as it looks?

anyway he begs to take me out for the big birthday and says he will e-mail me with the plans on Tuesday. and he did... at 5:30 pm to tell me he was still at work and would have to cancel, which is less disappointing than it sounds as I was at work until almost 9. the point is- he could have called it would have taken 30 seconds and now he gets no more of my time. though i am not so ill-bred that i wouldn't speak to him in public. So I see him on Wednesday and he tries to work out next to me... I run faster... so there.

He comes over to stretch with me, I smile, I stretch, I grab my bag and leave him standing there mid-apology.

Friday I see him, I was on the cell, he comes over and hugs me till I can't breath. He says I look stressed. I get off the phone and demurely lament the Tuesday blow-off in 3rd person. he is still full of apologies and i say it is not necessary...which it isn't because I'm done here. Again, my guy friends can try to defend him... but the fact of the matter is- 1. you cannot tell me anything about ambition- it comes out of my eyeballs! i fully understand you stay at work till it gets done, you do whatever you have to do to look like super-woman, and the point of all of this is to squash your compition. and yet... the call would have taken 30 seconds... less time than the email did and furthermore men behave themselves when there is something they truly want and are trying hard for. did you see that? it was a period at the end of that sentence.

*Side note* Please do not regard this as me 'male bashing'. i fully believe that everyone male and female alike have ass-hole potential. and your behavior is a result of how much you are living up to that potential. in every instance i know i have not been perfect and fully acknowledge that i am a work in progress. Plus I have really great stories about how much of my bad behavior i dished out when i was younger. with maturity comes the desire to not be that person anymore, you realize your potential and do better. thus, the threshold that we are willing to accept from other people is less as well... but i digress

how do i know that men have potential to be great and wonderful and align their behavior to appreciate the goddess they think you are? long distance relationship with japan worked for a year and a half with him calling me damn near everyday... FROM JAPAN! My water buffallo did summers in India calling every week at the same time so I would know it was him, braving monsoons to get to the only working phone in the village to hear the sound of my voice. Trust me, if a girl means that much men will move heaven and earth. and like the title says... If I was digging him this would be most unfortunate, luckily we can walk away from this one unscathed. no ick and less Bama :)

One of those things we say.

"Beautiful". You say it. You hear it. You know what it looks like to you; and it has the potential to stop you dead in your tracks for a full blush when it is directed at you. Once upon a times (and on any given day) it was easy to look in the mirror and see everything that is wrong. To hear a validation makes you want to follow the person who said it just to get a glimpse of what they see.

But it is only something we say. And if you hear it from someone who says it frequently to every female, does it make it less sweet? or me more cynical?

"You can do anything, you can go anywhere, the world is your oyster, you are going to do great things...blah blah blah"
Ok so now we have the undergrad degree and are looking for the next job. not so forthcoming at the Fortune 100 company I work for- we are in the midst of massive downsizing and people are uber-scared. I'm starting to put the resume out there and I'm getting all of no response. I will go anywhere, I will do most anything- All I'm looking for is more $. and yet my oyster-world has yet to flop open. I work hard- 40 plus and am the queen of the slaves in my dept. I take projects like it's cool, i'm all over further education and am having all of the meetings with what are supposed to be the keepers of the good life... and I am still here. and people are beginning to ask what the next plans are and I get to say that I am still in transit.

And if I am the commidity that people say, and anyone would love to hire me for the professional asset that I am... WHAT THE PROBLEM IS...

The great fall of Bama reaches it's disappointing ebb. update later this afternoon.

MY JENNY BEAR LOVES ME!

My birthday is Tuesday, so the party is today and tomorrow, the birthday dinner is officially on Tuesday. This afternoon my best friend calls me at work to say "do your hair, i'm picking you up in the Z". Her mom has the Nissan convertible thing. so we spend extra time looking cute and get to ride around with the top down. How much do I love my Jen.

How funny that this is still one of the very fun things that make us feel 16. Madigan used to do the same thing with the lovely Escalade. We would literally spend an hour and half getting dressed just to go to the grocery store in that thing. It seems (and is) a bit immature and juvenille, but nothing beats it. It's like your day can't get any better than that!

yesterday was crap, today will be better

Work is not fun, advancement is stalled, my huge company is down sizing to India -which affects me not at all except that it is harder to justify a move within since they are telling me that my new position won't be here in 3 years and I want to scream "LOOK, I JUST NEED THIS TO LAST UNTIL NEXT AUGUST WHEN I START LAW SCHOOL!" or realistically, the end of May before I quit and go back packing through Europe. I've put in 2 years of doing the b*tch work and am ready to not be poor for at least a minute. ick

I wanted to stay here because it was more comfortable than looking for a job cold- and starting over in an unknown.

In other news- have successfully avoided I.T. guy for a whole week and a half- he didn't bring up lunch and neither did I, the doc has gone home, so that was a neat backflip as well... On to Bama. I enjoy his company, he makes me laugh. He is so sweet and has beautiful manners. He is such a frat boy. There is nothing about him that make me want to put him in my pocket and carry him around with me. So we entertain him as long as it entertains us, but ultimately he is something to pass the time. It's not a relationship, it's not going to be. He's not pressing the issue, so I don't have to address it either. Guys don't so much appreciate he pre-emptive "you know this isn't going anywhere, right?". They tend to get mad. go figure.

I heart blogs!

I like reading other people's blogs. Don't get me wrong, there is a lot of crud to sift through, I think the formula is like six clicks of 'next blog' to find something worth reading (on second thought that is a bit of an understatement). But nonetheless I like it.

I like that the blog (anonymous or not) is where people are comfortable spewing all that is most important to them. It is my new guilty pleasure. But I find myself starting the bad habit of commenting on some of them- as if random people wanted to hear from me, how funny. In the middle of a Tuesday, when Sheryl Crow and I are going to meet Buddy in a bar, and I am staring down the prospect of another pointless corporate rah-rah meeting to go to, it helps me through my day to check in on someone else.

KARMA-STITION

Karma-stition is the remix of Alicia Keys' song Karma with the beat from Stevie Wonder's Very Superstitious. I believe in karma- I think most people do. Maybe almost to the point of superstition? ahhhh....

Right so Mr. PhD died 45 min into sports circuit. If you have been following the story you will know he had to make it through the entire class to earn a date. But watching him heaving with his head between his legs did earn him a pity date... so how did it go? it hasn't happened yet, I'm supposed to call him. so probably tomorrow I'll take him to play pool or something. You must be wondering how Karma has bitten me in the butt? keep reading....

This has turned into the greatest month! I officially graduate on Friday and my birthday is later this month, it's a month full of yay me! except I am not finding another job. no worries. I am employed and making great strides toward a whole career (that only has to last a year till I get to law school). In such, yesterday I get a gi-normous bouquet of flowers delivered to work. There are day lilies (which I love!) red roses, orchids, and purple stuff. awesome. they are from one of my I.T. guys... less awesome. O.k. let me clarify... every girl wants to get flowers, and especially flowers at work... the caveat being that we want them to be from the right person. i.e. someone we are dating, in wuv with, totally digging, etc. etc. not the stereo-typical sci-fi reading, ridiculously sweet, but a little strange on all cylinders.

The very true and very safe answer is and always has been that I have a standing policy not to date people I work with. And Mr. I.T. respects this. I call to say thank you, and he extends the option of congradulatory lunch. I cringe but have to say yes. After all, mommiey did raise me to be gracious. and he is not so odious that I could not have a pleasant lunch with him. right?

So lunch is set for today and I come to work mentally prepared... and the women I work with have put together a feast of lots of my favorite things, complete with a picnic blanket of my soon to be alma-mater. and I am floored and humbled by their love and generosity... and then I am so ashamed that I was relieved that lunch with Mr. I.T. will have to be pushed to next week. somehow I don't think that just a thank you card would be sufficient. I would like to say that I am not that person that avoids confrontation at all cost and is completely spineless. However I would like to be someone who does not ever hurt other people's feelings- I certainly don't want to... so the little voice inside of me says- hurry up and find another job and run away, and never have to deal with him again. but that's not right either. ick.

You'll never guess what I heard... NOTHING!

So mommiey and I spent the weekend in the land of Monito (that is an official break- but nostalgia still made me text him- damn the sentimentality! but i got no response- that was new, and kind of bruised the ego-ick) and it was uber-great.

Apparently I left one of the doors of my piece open (what piece you ask? why it's the car I drive. a piece? yes ma'am it is a piece of sh**) and the light in the car was on all weekend. I see this yesterday- the light still works- however car would not start.

Not to worry I can jump a car in 2.5 flat. and don't even get me started on the flat tires... so I am off and running to the book store when I try to turn the radio on. My CD player no longer accepts my CDs and I have refused to put more $ into this car on non-essential things. So I listen to the radio (stop laughing it's not THAT funny). So I try to turn the radio on and the screen says "CODE" and it takes a minute to figure out it wants a 4 digit code. Well, that's fun! Now I get to go through 11 billion options of what the code may be since I have no idea what it is and they didn't tell me when I bought my piece. I then surmise that you get all of 3 chances to guess and then it shuts itself off. Not like it turns its' self off andI can press a button a turn it back on... but I turn it on and the screen says "OFF". How fun. So I drive to the bookstore in deafening silence with only my thoughts to amuse me. How dangerous.

Fast forward to this morning. I am making the commute and laughing at myself that I know nothing happens when I press a button for the radio- but I still press it, in fact I press all of the buttons to absolutely no avail. I make it to the off ramp almost to work and the CD-tease/radio makes a ear piercing screech that made me throw coffee on my beautiful cashmere sweater (honestly who wears cashmere in the August?! answer? those of us that are so poor we buy it on sale and wear it the same week we bought it!) and again the screen says "CODE". and now I have 3 more tries. I wonder if it was something I did that made it reset or if it did it by its' self. At any rate it is the new project, one day at time to figure out the elusive code so I can get back to my 'en route' concerts. I can sing like Mariah Carey.... it's just that no one else can hear it quite like that :)

DOES THAT MAKE MY MOTHER A P.I.M.P.?

Ok this is a good one. I will try to give the premise a bit quicker than ususal. So, last night mom bum-rushes me into having dinner at one of the Indian Auntie's house. It was last minute, it was 9 o'clock- I'd been running errands since I got off at 530- the prospect of wroti looked good to me. She tells me before we get there that the whole purpose of going to this persons house is to meet a boy.... I'm sorry, say that again?

To be specific we are going to "look at" a 28-year old male specimen from Trinidad who is a doctor. (PhD doc not med doc) and I almost threw my car in park in the middle of the street. are you kidding me?!

I've been ducking the arranged marriage discussion for a good 3 years now, and was quite confident it was close to being squashed... apparently not. My friends are like "why are you so against this? this could be great! your parents are trying to give you a dr. on a plate- that is every girl's dream!" and to this I say really? REALLY? have at him girls I will even serve as liason.

Let me try to quantify what it is about this situation that makes me want to get tattoos all over my body so that none of these guys would look twice at me. 1. the whole thing makes me feel like a piece of meat. from the time you can talk Indian parents present this huge expectation upon you. you know how everything about your life stacks up on the scale of marriageablity and if you will get a good boy. don't understand?

people say i am pretty (that's a plus), my mom is divorced (that's a minus), aug 11th i get my degree (plus), but i also have student loans (minus), but no other debt (plus). I am smart (plus) but very vocal about what i think/feel (minus) i am independent (minus) with long hair (plus) but brown skin not yellow (minus). right so you get how this works.

and the 2nd thing is... and boy do i hate the way this looks in writing... I do believe in love. I've seen it, felt it, touched it, and after it anything less is... well, less. how do you build a life with someone you have to learn to like? someone you have nothing in common with, and learn how to deal? even if it doesn't stay that way, at least in the beginning i should like to be excited to see this person. and i explain this to my mom again, and she says..."no one is saying you HAVE to marry him, just maybe have a coffee". fine.

So having met him, he's cute but i still have reservations. so he is going to take sports circuit with me today. if he lasts the entire class then he has earned himself a date on saturday. if not, well i don't ever have to see him again. please hold- shennanagins to follow.

Yeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh Mexican!

I met Bama for a bit of Mexican on Saturday night. I would like to throw in he now has a haircut that makes him look like Forest Gump. Which would not be so glaring if he did not do the Gump impressions so well. He spent most of the night using that voice and trying to make margaritas come out of my nose.

So I get there, we sit and he fills me in on the waiter... "Name is Barry, he's got one leg, not as good as the 'Kevin' we had at the Chimes last Friday."

Wait a minute... one leg? i am sure he is making this up. Bama would do that. I ask how he knows, did the waiter tell him this? He says no he just assumed. I ask what is in the non-leg's place. He says "titanium". I call his bluff and say bullsh*t. He bets me shots that he's right.

Here comes Barry.

One leg and shorts on... the other is titanium. Through my dumbfounded amazment Bama says "watch him when he walks away... he kind of pops his butt to the side with the leg. he's definitely pimping it out". Now I feel like a jerk because i am trying not to laugh. Bama orders my Margarita- it's a berry flavored- Wild Berry at that. To this Barry says "you know it's named after me... the call me the Wild Barry". wow.

Bama says "his tip just went up $2 and if he asks you out I'm leaving him a 20". Barry got his 20, but you knew that.