sharing is caring: from pg 92 and 109 in 'galileo's daughter'-

"to wit: as earnestly as men may seek to understand the workings of the universe, they must remember that God is not hampered by their limited logic-that all observed effects may have been wrought by Him in any one of an infinite number of omnipotent ways, and these must ever evade mortal comprehension."

as well,

"...candid honesty is more beautiful than deceitful duplicity."

revised: the lone ranger

after footing sixty dollars for last night's dinner bill, which was a third of it's grand total, i made a resolution to halt unneccesary and frivolous spending. not to elude with conservative fiscality that the wine wasn't divine; that the ravoli and tiramisu was something disparate of exquisite, or that the patio setting as it was, with the evening transforming into night while the jazz drifted in and out of sparatic intervals of conversation, as anything other than memorable material; but that, as mentioned, unneccesarily prodigal spending, i feel, i should refrain from in times of economic uncertainity. of course, such intentions lasted till this morning when restlessness over came me. although, this mornings outing cost two-something, and so, i hardly(or stubbornly) think that tea at starbucks should interfer with said resolution. but as the case is, it is not the point. what is, is that, while at starbucks the cover of the new york times in combination with a libby looking barista trying to flirt with me by complimenting my yellow mary janes, deflated my once desire to remain, in social(be it the blog or in groups of liberal friends)settings, passive about my political stance. it was hours ago that my soft spot for opposite points of view became a hard ugly mole. lately, the issue of politics has snuck it's way into conversation after conversation. me, always dodging to reveal just how republican i am that-anncoutlerismyrolemodel, because at simply admitting that i plan on voting for bush, i'm bombarded with angst and indifference. as if i asked-as if i wasn't trying with all my heart to change the subject. i find no enjoyment in argueing; and that, unfortunately, apart from never accepting personal responsability or refraining from thinking issues through realistically, is what liberals live to do: argue,argue,argue without any actual non-cnn or moveon.org data to back up their claims and defenses.(except becca, she was the only liberal friend i've had that actually engaged in intelligent political conversations in which the intention really was to achieve a better understanding of our different beliefs and points of view). but what is really ailing me is why it is so imperative to so many libshits that i agree with them. i suppose i'm one to talk, as the saying goes, it wasn't so long ago, i too felt a similar unabashed desire to convert what i deamed: the ill informed. though, i don't remember being so rudely fanatical about it all. but maybe i was. one thing for sure:

this is just the beginning.

free-will allows, and thus permits, me to make mistakes-to be bad; to call in sick to work when really i'm wanting for a day to sleep in, go to terrillis for brunch, sit by the pool and do some serious flipping in Galileos Daughter(the best book i've read since Kavalier and Clay),ride my bike around the lake with tiffany, then go see Thin Lizzy later in the evening. free-will is like your first semester in college, when faced with the option, and despite your parents and advisors heed that you don't have to go unless you want to but you'll fail if you don't, you don't. but free-will also permits me to prove myself a hard worker, dedicated, loyal, mature, and virteous. if i called in tomorrow, no one would falter or be burdened by it. if i called in tomorrow, i wouldn't notice the days deduction in my upcoming paycheck. if i called in tomorrow, it would be my first time to do so this summer(apart from the "worst day of my life").if i called in tomorrow, i would get the recommended dose of shut-eye. though, if i called in tomorrow, i would lie and that is something, at all costs, and not because of my virtue but fear of becoming succumb to it, i try to avoid as if it was the black plague. the alarm clock is set to awake me in 5.5hours; and likewise, it is also set to determine my true character.

so, they say it's your BIRTHDAY.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to YA!!!!

martini- 1
me- 0

amongst close friends, there are no secrets. my weakness(es) wear me better than i wear them; and, despite my inclination of being the picture for self-control, after one two many glasses of wine and then a couple of chocolate martinis on an empty stomach, i will, happily sleep anywhere, in front of anyone. be it a wedding under a table, at a bar,at a party, in a car outside a bar, on a sidewalk, on a porch, in a strangers bed, in a friends bed, or when i should be helping entertain.

the last thing i remember last night was rachel shreeling a loud and amused "NO" as i dashed from the dinner table to her bed; making a belly flop onto it then waking up to silence having replaced the battle of conversations with Snow Patrol, to darkness, to my eyes watering because my contacts were still in, and to Topper licking my toes with his coarse tongue.

zubar was a whole lot more enjoyable than i thought it would be. and joshua's photography was absolutely amazing. it only made sense that by the end of the night, i should make myself look like an ass.

WOW and OWO


this is my thunder; my roar of "i am woman, i am capable, i am able to set up my computer all by myself. no manual, no help on the phone, not even a tear of frustration-only pride gosh golly." perhaps with this sensation of self-reliance, i will attempt to, alas, turn the silly dots on my blog into stars. something i meant to do before i republished this new template. though, i've been thinking; contemplating about the design and it's sex appeal, debating on whether or not to put my back into it; to challenge myself with a web design for dummies handbook and revamp the entire thing. add some spizaaz, some obvious sarcasism, some boobs, some animated turtles, some guts and glory. oh, and pictures. pictures in plenty. i can't believe it's been almost a year and a half since i saw era. she looks amazing, happy, as smart and ballsy as ever. there needs to be more of that. of sharing. of me being the medium for, and to, all my love bugs to be in the know of the now. like how jon has, supposedly, gained 20lbs since he moved to oregon. or that the all elusive stephanie has been a blonde in japan for the past eight months. it's the little things i never want to go without; those miniscule nothings that make 60 seconds turn into a minuete. the hom-hum i would give my right leg for.

before i had trimuphed over technology, i was riding my bike to radioshack to buy a mouse and rabbit ears. it seemed like a good idea; like a quick bolt around the block, but soon i found out why, apart from the blistering heat, us in dallas are so content on supporting and bolstering global warming with our unneccesary dependance upon carbon monoxide vehicles: it's the non-existing sidewalks fault i tell you. four miles there and three miles back didn't seem like it would be a journey of toils and perail but when i wasn't trying to pedal to the speed of 40mph in order to keep the cars behind me, behind me, i was forced to find detours through neighboorhoods with sketchy mechanics and counter top installers whistling and gawking at the sight of a girl with pink sunglasses the size of planets(as mike would say) with her skirt catching wind like a kite wanting to fly away. and before i had trimuphed over garland avenue, i was, with every ounce of dedication, trying to stick these two circular transparent pieces of better vision into my eyeballs. and i did...after a thousand failed endeavors.

tonight i'm going to see this guy i run into all the time photography's show at the zoo bar with rachel. who knows what i will face there though i'm sure i'll be victorious.

neither here nor there

perhaps what is missing is reflection: notable (self)analyzation, and silence. silence to refuel the air, the invisible and discontented air. though, a change of scenery would do just fine. somewhere i'm safe from dementia, but not japan. somewhere for soberiety. somewhere for my words and thoughts and feelings to hide. such as a cave that welcomes in waves; waves that hit the misplaced rocks. like those i found along the shore in bornholm.

beauty in the breakdown

it always seemed overcast in the morning. becca and i would lay in her bed exchanging dream analysis and black iced coffee desires. then one of us would finally dash from the warmth under the covers to the stereo; making haste over the cold wooden floor, through the ten feet of cold air. it was always the shins early in the morning, except for that one time it was tom waits. after a song or two we'd be ready to start the day; making zig zags through austin, smoking parliaments as we went, discussing everything from andy warhol to first loves, her with a jersey accent and me with my hidden southern twang. not even a year later and i look back on those memories as some of my favorites; my most cherished; and unfortunately, because of the twist and turns circumstance provided, as some of my saddest.

the credits began to roll, i looked over at rachel to see that her eyes were swelling with tears. the theater emptied and we did too. i was drained because i know that feeling of being homesick for somewhere that no longer exists; because honesty is the best you can give and all you should expect; because being yourself is priceless; because this is life in it's beauty and in it's sometimes often sadness and void; because garden state reminded me of those cold winter mornings listening to the shins with becca.

etc...

i sat in court the other day and made up a list of things that make me want to puke. number one on the list is having to pick up freshly dropped doggy doo. with number two being men in overalls. number three is men with hairy backs and/or necks. though the thought of men with hairy backs in overalls could easily climb to the top of the list if i ever saw such a sight.

and on a less nauseting note: while walking around the lake yesterday, i overheard a man tell a woman on the bench beside him, "i'm ready to open up my heart; show you my secrets, and let you in."

oh yes, i got pulled over by a policeman the other night after work for speeding. earlier in the evening one of my tables bought me a lovely shot of patron that i so graciosly consumed. off course, i'm a honest to goodness girl, so when the officer asked me if i had been drinking, i ansewerd, "indeed", so he made me get out of my car and look at this little pen with a red light on the end. i wasn't drunk by any means and he let me go ticket free.

and that's all i have time for.

"she sits right down to find the one to show, it's a beautiful day."

on my way driving back from the city of euless municipal court i stopped at the record store. now i understand, the event that happened next is unforgivable, but rob gordon if you would, look deep in your heart and try because even though i'm a two faced hypocrite, i love you none the less, and if not in action then in words, is still loyal none the less; neverless, at the end of the day/long drive down and back up i35, i am someone who couldn't resist themselves from buying the new polyphonic spree album.

the engine is off. the windows are down. a muggy breeze passes through the driver side straight out the passenger side stopping for a brief second to play with my hair. i'm sitting in the drive way, past the windshield the leaves are dancing in the street as if they knew i want it to be fall and they too have ears and have soul. i'm extremely conscious of the moment being cheesy and sappy but i can't resist it- life and the music are both beautiful; happy; the words relative, necessary, too often forgotten or empty. i want to lavish in the sound for eternity upon eternity upon eternity. my head is light and my tummy full of white robbed butterflies. track number 6 is playing. i cry because i understand, but really, i think it's because the week of the month it is.

"it means a lot to find it so easy/ it takes a lot to find yourself way down."

best compliment to date:

"even the way you walk is happy."

-guy i work with

congratulations chelle la belle



"From 26 July to 7 August 2004, Soul in the City* plans to mobilise 15,000 young people from around the UK and other nations in community projects, sports initiatives, children’s clubs, music events and other schemes across Greater London. These have been developed by 716 local churches in partnership with the Metropolitan Police and Local Government to ensure that they are tailored to meet areas of real local need, and effect lasting social change.

Soul in the City has the backing of several leading public figures, including Prime Minister Tony Blair, Mayor for London Ken Livingstone, Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir John Stevens, and Archbishop of Canterbury the Rt Reverend Rowan Williams*. Soul in the City is a Christian initiative that respects people of all faiths, and which seeks to demonstrate that “actions speak louder than words”."

ya did great boo!!!

thief in the night, loose teeth in my mouth

it was still bright out; still day, still with plans to hang out with rachel and tiffany for some half price cocktails at the meridian room later that sunday evening. my curtains had somehow managed to fall down and become tangled up into the covers, which had become tangled up in my legs, which i affixed my sleepy eyes at, this sight, lazy and beautifully bronzed legs in a cluster of bedding and white linen curtains. i thought this to be very interesting. more curious to me, was what was a dream that day and what was real. "i think my sister called sounding as cute as a button. i think i called jon and he was about to go cave exploring. i think i went to work. i think brian broke a record drinking my smart water in one minute. i think all my teeth fell out", such musings battered back and forth in my head as i laid there still gazing at the unusual spectacle at the end of the bed. all my teeth, except the two i'm still waiting on a bridge for, were intact. i lifted up my t'shirt and there was my aqua blue "GUARD" bathing suit still on. my water bottle was no where to be found. and the phone was next to my pillow.

with no one watching, sly as a fly, on my tippy tippy toes, i go to put back mason and jessie's books on the top shelf of small and dark closet. what are they...huckleberry finn and the vendetta files, i believe. doesn't matter, what did was that i stole them. didn't want them. didn't need them. neverless, i stole them. or so i did at least in my dream last night. followed by me bitching out one of my favorite guards for not using her bouye during a visual awareness test rescue. i also dreamt i meet jon's older sister, and she gave me the biggest hugest hug ever. at first i was taken back by her affection to me, a total stranger, but after a bit, i totally loved her and didn't want to pull away from the hug either. oh yes, and i also-also dreamt i went to see a polyphonic spree cover band, but when we got there tim came busting out onto the stage all pissed off and made everyone go home.

pinch me if i'm dreaming-i just heard a rumble of thunder then a huge bolt of lightening come crashing into the distance. and again.

patience my ass

i woke up early this morning so that i could have enough time to buy my ticket to oregon and new york, work out, and clean out my car before work. three stinken hours later, i'm still sitting here at the computer trying to figure this bullshit out. it all started when in the middle of printing out my itenary i recieved an email from yahoo travel informing me that my cancellation was succesful and if applicable the insurance plan i bought would reimburse me for the cost of the airfare. but the thing is, i never cancelled my flight nor did i want to. so i called the help hotline that was in the email and after being on hold for a brief spell they gave me another number to call, and after being on hold for over a hour with carribean music blaring in my ear and a periodical intermission message from some guy with a bad english accent thanking me for being so patient and reassuring me that a representive would be with me shortly, i was given another number. to which i thought the problem was finally resolved. but when i got back on-line to print out my confirmation reciept i found that there is no such record of my reservation. i just now off got phone with customer service again; but because companies have moved their calling centers to india or sri lanki, places where most of the employees are still in english 101, i couldn't understand a damn word the lady said. by this point i'm so frustrated, i can't help but to cry.

____________(fill in your name here), watch the stars.

"The culmination will come after the sun goes down Wednesday, when Earth may plow through a virgin field of Civil War-era comet dust, swelling the numbers of meteors."

come wednesday night, you'll find me blazing down mckinney avenue, tossing my black heels out of the car window as i put the pedal to the medal in hopes that i can get far enough away to witness this sprinkling of celestial debris.

the only kicker is i can't think of anyone to bring along with me for this experience. it's too bad my new friend will be in chicago. she seems like the type to jump all over such an adventure. last night we closed down xpo then made everyone leaving lay on the ground with us to look at the sky above. i was pretty drunk, so was she, but even in my sober state of admittance, i would do it all over again in a heart beat. even the dancing to new order.

i've had a pretty intense headache all day. this headache occurs every time my roomie smokes in the house at night. not only does it suck waking up and needing to shield my face in the covers, or that my hair sometimes reaks like an ashtray on high, but that not even aleve can combat the throbbing in my cranium.

whatever.

i have to remind myself there are greater woes in the world to be upset about; like those 5 immigrants, while attempting to enter the us, died from heat exhaustion in the arizona dessert. that makes me want to cry.

it's all about perspective and lavender incense, i suppose.

if things become unbearable, i found a tiny apartment above a restaraunt in uptown for $350. i'd go ahead and relocate there now but i'm super worn out from constantly moving. it would be nice to stay put somewhere for at least half a year before i take the effort to put everything back into boxes.

the end.

stressy bessy.

abruptly after 9-11, when the economy went belly side up, i experienced first hand, a different sort of stress. it was a stress of finacial woes; it was a stress of realizing that the amalgamation of talent and charm could and would no longer lead me to my dreams...that i should have taken the scholarship to pugent sound university or baylor; it was a stress that stemmed from boredom, from unproductivity, and from uncertainty. and because of it, this unforeseen stress, slowly but surely, i begun to notice that so much of me had gone awry; that such a vast part of who i was, was suppressed and suffocating in the murkiness of it all. i witnessed the leaves change colors fall in and fall out, the clouds expel their april showers three times over, my jean size go from a comfy size 4 to a startling size 0, and life demand i mark three more notches on the already twenty one marked next to my bedpost before the reverse made it's debute. indeed, just recently i started to feel like i was no longer being held back by limitations and restrications; that i'm breathing for the very first time in a hundred years: gasping at the fresh air, wanting to sink deep down inside it, every part of me, at different moments and intervals, all the while splashing and kicking, cannon balls and belly flops into it. this bubbly buzz of love and purpose gushing out my soul into laughter and smiles; into well wishes and dreams, re-creating plans; formulating action, but moreso, detecting the sensation of hope being reborn, and with that, a verve of peacefulness. still, this sharaha isn't all butterflies and warm fuzzies as i'm painting it out to be. i'm busy as hell. i'm tired. i'm stretched too thin and in desperate need of a vacation from highland park residents and responsability in general. plus, the money never seems to be enough, but at least, despite my discontent with the quanity, it's there. enough of it there to allow me to indulge in small doses of organic-over-priced food, to entertain the notion of yoga classes at one of the holistic studios in uptown, to attend at a discounted price the curiosa festival coming up, to visit erik in the big apple this fall, and jon in the boon docks of oregon. oh yes, and to buy the shirt you see here in this post. though, i know i shouldn't focus on material things, after a long period of going without, it's hard not to want to compensate. at least for me that is. but above all, right now, i'm happy to concentrate on making strides. long and beautiful strides.

like sand through the hour glass:

i've found the more time i let slip by without posting the harder it is when i finally attempt to do so. and it's been awhile since i recollected, properly. i've been busy, as if that's a good enough excuse, but i think i'll cut myself some slack; afterall, i've been really-really-in-over-my head swamped. working sixteen hour days only to wake up and do all it over again, and in-between the two jobs-clean, feed the dogs, call my parents, etc, and etc. it's this re-visiting self-expecation of being perfect's own fault. at different points in my life i've succeded in suffocating it with disappointments or past failures or frustrations, even laziness. neverless, it always returns, gasping for fresh air; energized, refreshed, more determined and stronger than ever. and even though with this expectation comes heaps of responsability and an unwavering tasking pursuit for diligence, i really do enjoy it. because it owns me as much as i own it. i believe if your going to do something/be something than you might as well do it perfect and be the best, if not it's just a waste of time.

"dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of." b.franklinthough right now, it's bedtime. sweet dreams.

now, where do i sign up again?

"In preparation for a 60-day Female Bed-Rest Study, which starts in January/February 2005, an official call for candidates to participate as test subjects has been issued. The study is a joint venture between the European Space Agency (ESA), the French space agency (CNES), the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) and the Canadian Space Agency (CSA). It will be carried out by MEDES, the French Institute for Space Medicine and Physiology, in its clinical research facility at the Rangueil hospital in Toulouse, France."

from the European Space Agency.