my boiling point

"one thousand U.S casualities," the Kerry commercial intones."two americans beheaded just this week. the pentegon admits terrorists are pouring into Iraq. in the face of the Iraq quagmire, George Bush's answer is to run a juevnille and tasteless attack ad."

but hold on let's do something new and different libshitserals, let's really think about this before you get ahead of yourself; let's start at the most obvious, and that is your claim that Bush's answer to the growing epidemic of inhumanity and evil in the war on Iraq is a light hearted commercial against Kerry. well for your convience and desire to be spoon fed possible/maybe facts, here is a speech by the President at a press conference back in April 2004:

"This has been tough weeks in that country. Coalition forces have encountered serious violence in some areas of Iraq. Our military commanders report that this violence is being instigated by three groups: Some remnants of Saddam Hussein's regime, along with Islamic militants have attacked coalition forces in the city of Fallujah. Terrorists from other countries have infiltrated Iraq to incite and organize attacks. In the south of Iraq, coalition forces face riots and attacks that are being incited by a radical cleric named al-Sadr. He has assembled some of his supporters into an illegal militia, and publicly supported the terrorist groups, Hamas and Hezbollah. Al-Sadr's methods of violence and intimidation are widely repudiated by other Iraqi Shia. He's been indicted by Iraqi authorities for the murder of a prominent Shia cleric.

Although these instigations of violence come from different factions, they share common goals. They want to run us out of Iraq and destroy the democratic hopes of the Iraqi people. The violence we have seen is a power grab by these extreme and ruthless elements.

It's not a civil war; it's not a popular uprising. Most of Iraq is relatively stable. Most Iraqis, by far, reject violence and oppose dictatorship. In forums where Iraqis have met to discuss their political future, and in all the proceedings of the Iraqi Governing Council, Iraqis have expressed clear commitments. They want strong protections for individual rights; they want their independence; and they want their freedom.

America's commitment to freedom in Iraq is consistent with our ideals, and required by our interests. Iraq will either be a peaceful, democratic country, or it will again be a source of violence, a haven for terror, and a threat to America and to the world. By helping to secure a free Iraq, Americans serving in that country are protecting their fellow citizens. Our nation is grateful to them all, and to their families that face hardship and long separation.

This weekend, at a Fort Hood hospital, I presented a Purple Heart to some of our wounded; had the honor of thanking them on behalf of all Americans. Other men and women have paid an even greater cost. Our nation honors the memory of those who have been killed, and we pray that their families will find God's comfort in the midst of their grief. As I have said to those who have lost loved ones, we will finish the work of the fallen.

America's armed forces are performing brilliantly, with all the skill and honor we expect of them. We're constantly reviewing their needs. Troop strength, now and in the future, is determined by the situation on the ground. If additional forces are needed, I will send them. If additional resources are needed, we will provide them. The people of our country are united behind our men and women in uniform, and this government will do all that is necessary to assure the success of their historic mission.

One central commitment of that mission is the transfer of sovereignty back to the Iraqi people. We have set a deadline of June 30th. It is important that we meet that deadline. As a proud and independent people, Iraqis do not support an indefinite occupation -- and neither does America. We're not an imperial power, as nations such as Japan and Germany can attest. We are a liberating power, as nations in Europe and Asia can attest, as well. America's objective in Iraq is limited, and it is firm: We seek an independent, free and secure Iraq.

Were the coalition to step back from the June 30th pledge, many Iraqis would question our intentions and feel their hopes betrayed. And those in Iraq who trade in hatred and conspiracy theories would find a larger audience and gain a stronger hand. We will not step back from our pledge. On June 30th, Iraqi sovereignty will be placed in Iraqi hands.

Sovereignty involves more than a date and a ceremony. It requires Iraqis to assume responsibility for their own future. Iraqi authorities are now confronting the security challenge of the last several weeks. In Fallujah, coalition forces have suspended offensive operations, allowing members of the Iraqi Governing Council and local leaders to work on the restoration of central authority in that city. These leaders are communicating with the insurgents to ensure an orderly turnover of that city to Iraqi forces, so that the resumption of military action does not become necessary. They're also insisting that those who killed and mutilated four American contract workers be handed over for trial and punishment. In addition, members of the Governing Council are seeking to resolve the situation in the south. Al-Sadr must answer the charges against him and disband his illegal militia.

Our coalition is standing with responsible Iraqi leaders as they establish growing authority in their country. The transition to sovereignty requires that we demonstrate confidence in Iraqis, and we have that confidence. Many Iraqi leaders are showing great personal courage, and their example will bring out the same quality in others. The transition to sovereignty also requires an atmosphere of security, and our coalition is working to provide that security. We will continue taking the greatest care to prevent harm to innocent civilians; yet we will not permit the spread of chaos and violence. I have directed our military commanders to make every preparation to use decisive force, if necessary, to maintain order and to protect our troops.

The nation of Iraq is moving toward self-rule, and Iraqis and Americans will see evidence in the months to come. On June 30th, when the flag of free Iraq is raised, Iraqi officials will assume full responsibility for the ministries of government. On that day, the transitional administrative law, including a bill of rights that is unprecedented in the Arab world, will take full effect.

The United States, and all the nations of our coalition, will establish normal diplomatic relations with the Iraqi government. An American embassy will open, and an American ambassador will be posted.

According to the schedule already approved by the Governing Council, Iraq will hold elections for a national assembly no later than next January. That assembly will draft a new, permanent constitution which will be presented to the Iraqi people in a national referendum held in October of next year. Iraqis will then elect a permanent government by December 15, 2005 -- an event that will mark the completion of Iraq's transition from dictatorship to freedom.

Other nations and international institutions are stepping up to their responsibilities in building a free and secure Iraq. We're working closely with the United Nations envoy, Lakhdar Brahimi, and with Iraqis to determine the exact form of the government that will receive sovereignty on June 30th. The United Nations election assistance team, headed by Karina Parelli (phonetic), is in Iraq, developing plans for next January's election. NATO is providing support for the Polish-led multinational division in Iraq. And 17 of NATO's 26 members are contributing forces to maintain security.

Secretary of State Powell and Secretary of State Rumsfeld, and a number of NATO defense and foreign ministers are exploring a more formal role for NATO, such as turning the Polish-led division into a NATO operation, and giving NATO specific responsibilities for border control.

Iraqi's neighbors also have responsibilities to make their region more stable. So I am sending Deputy Secretary of State Armitage to the Middle East to discuss with these nations our common interest in a free and independent Iraq, and how they can help achieve this goal.

As we've made clear all along, our commitment to the success and security of Iraq will not end on June 30th. On July 1st, and beyond, our reconstruction assistance will continue, and our military commitment will continue. Having helped Iraqis establish a new government, coalition military forces will help Iraqis to protect their government from external aggression and internal subversion.

The success of free government in Iraq is vital for many reasons. A free Iraq is vital because 25 million Iraqis have as much right to live in freedom as we do. A free Iraq will stand as an example to reformers across the Middle East. A free Iraq will show that America is on the side of Muslims who wish to live in peace, as we have already shown in Kuwait and Kosovo, Bosnia and Afghanistan. A free Iraq will confirm to a watching world that America's word, once given, can be relied upon, even in the toughest times.

Above all, the defeat of violence and terror in Iraq is vital to the defeat of violence and terror elsewhere; and vital, therefore, to the safety of the American people. Now is the time, and Iraq is the place, in which the enemies of the civilized world are testing the will of the civilized world. We must not waver.

The violence we are seeing in Iraq is familiar. The terrorist who takes hostages, or plants a roadside bomb near Baghdad is serving the same ideology of murder that kills innocent people on trains in Madrid, and murders children on buses in Jerusalem, and blows up a nightclub in Bali, and cuts the throat of a young reporter for being a Jew.

We've seen the same ideology of murder in the killing of 241 Marines in Beirut, the first attack on the World Trade Center, in the destruction of two embassies in Africa, in the attack on the USS Cole, and in the merciless horror inflicted upon thousands of innocent men and women and children on September the 11th, 2001.

None of these acts is the work of a religion; all are the work of a fanatical, political ideology. The servants of this ideology seek tyranny in the Middle East and beyond. They seek to oppress and persecute women. They seek the death of Jews and Christians, and every Muslim who desires peace over theocratic terror. They seek to intimidate America into panic and retreat, and to set free nations against each other. And they seek weapons of mass destruction, to blackmail and murder on a massive scale.

Over the last several decades, we've seen that any concession or retreat on our part will only embolden this enemy and invite more bloodshed. And the enemy has seen, over the last 31 months, that we will no longer live in denial or seek to appease them. For the first time, the civilized world has provided a concerted response to the ideology of terror -- a series of powerful, effective blows.

The terrorists have lost the shelter of the Taliban and the training camps in Afghanistan. They've lost safe havens in Pakistan. They lost an ally in Baghdad. And Libya has turned its back on terror. They've lost many leaders in an unrelenting international manhunt. And perhaps most frightening to these men and their movement, the terrorists are seeing the advance of freedom and reform in the greater Middle East.

A desperate enemy is also a dangerous enemy, and our work may become more difficult before it is finished. No one can predict all the hazards that lie ahead, or the costs they will bring. Yet, in this conflict, there is no safe alternative to resolute action. The consequences of failure in Iraq would be unthinkable. Every friend of America and Iraq would be betrayed to prison and murder as a new tyranny arose. Every enemy of America and the world would celebrate, proclaiming our weakness and decadence, and using that victory to recruit a new generation of killers.

We will succeed in Iraq. We're carrying out a decision that has already been made and will not change: Iraq will be a free, independent country, and America and the Middle East will be safer because of it. Our coalition has the means and the will to prevail. We serve the cause of liberty, and that is, always and everywhere, a cause worth serving."

hardly his answer, don't you think?!? or are they aware that their spreading lies by what they implied in above mentioned statement?!? of course, the Bush campaign could have come up with a commercial depicting footage of one of the beheadings and then rolled the fickle stance, by means of voting record and speeches, about where Kerry stands on the war in Iraq; and then showing the families in agony over the loss of their loved one, come up with something like, "Kerry: he might care tomorrow, but the polls won't allow him to today". even if the Kerry campaign was composed of nothing but complete morons who think the only "answer" Bush has given on the war in Iraq is an allegorical commerical of the senetor sailing back and forth on his stance with the war, then it still doesn't give postive light to the fact that the Kerry campaign then followed with a commerical of only a rebuttle for the previous commercial. is that all they have in their arsenal? a rebuttle commercial to a commerical?

as for it being "tasteless", well, i guess that depends on your palate now doesn't it?!? i found it to be extremely delicious. as for it being "juvenille", sure. but after the protest at the republican national convention where democratic zealots threw stones and attacked police, i thought they wanted that can of worms opened. maybe they changed their minds. now, wouldn't that be a first.

and then there was new york city...

as i sat, fist to chin, in the baggage claim terminal of jfk airport waiting for erik and my luggage to arrive i noticed a group of guys a little bit different looking than everyone else. being incredibly intuitive, i knew the likelihood of them being a band was a sure vegas bet. and also being incredibly intelligent, i knew if my intuitive powers were indeed correct, that such an entourage of band boys taking to the air over the usual $100 van means of transportation for touring, could only mean one thing, that they had soled their souls to MTV, or as an addition, as the case was, for a minivan commercial as well. it was modest mouse. one of the guys shoot me a smile and a wink, and as he left, i with blushing cheeks, returned the innocent gesture. it was my first new york moment.

a sub-hop, erik, and luggage in tow later, i was discussing the nights plan while climbing flights of stairs in the brownwoods of brooklyn. little did i know, but up on the forth floor a cat with a respiratory problem that sounded like a terminally ill newborn awaited me. though the pressing issue that evening was not if the cat was in pain or not, but, despite the fact that at 3:55am you can get a drink in almost any bar in nyc, catching snow patrol at 11pm was a futile case.

we ended up making our way to a bar called o'conners where the beer was decently priced and a girl i didn't know from tim buktoo, whom over-heard me expressing desire for a 'two-beer-buzz-cig', offered me one of her '$7-a-pack-parliaments' and then, after telling her it was my first night in the big apple and so far i was amazed at how cordial new yorkers were, warned me about the fung sho demonstrators on every corner.

before calling it a night, erik and i walked across the roofs adjacent to his own temporary lodging, as far and as long as the roofs did allow.

the next day, erik went to work and i went to learn the subway and the city on my own. my first feat of accomplishment was making it to his work out by brooklyn bridge for lunch. secondly, to soho; and, about the time the rain started falling, i had drifted into chinatown. at first, i strolled with my jacket over my head, then necessity suggested i take refuge under a kiosk and inquire about where to buy an umbrella. and so, two dollars later, i had my first new york city purchase. not exactly couture or pretensious, but so very black.

to be continued...

week 1

too much time has drifted by, and now, i'm at a lost for words; for the right, the most deserving and nostaglic catch o' phrases to describe; to offer my amazement, the depth and extant of the wonderful time i had-the sights and the places that left me rubbing my eyes with my sleeve, left me gasping and in awe; wanting more, permanent, more. but oregon wasn't the only factor to such a disposition of happiness and splendor(yes, splendor), spending time with jon was a huge part of that equation. and he, everything about him was perfect. though the setting made it more than memorable instances like, snuggling my cold nose on his warm neck first thing in the morning, or seeing how eager he was, everyday, in making sure i was happy by driving me down to the coast or up in the mountains, by informing me of facts he knew i would find interesting, by making me promise to not unzip my sleeping bag at night, as so i wouldn't catch a cold, by the way he smiled, by the glitter in his eyes, by the comfort and joy i found in just being next to him, has him, in my mind and in my heart, as oregon's most beautiful and amazing main attraction.

september at a glance

9/8: call calvin and julia to wish them both a happy birthday, catch plane to oregon, make a scene at the airport when i see jon.

9/9-9/13: become one with nature.

9/14: catch plane to New York City, pray that Snow Patrol will still be playing by the time we get there.

9/15-9/18: visit the Modern, the Guggenheim, H&M, Time Square, Ellis Island, a morning shows window, and a hot dog stand.

9/18: steph to greet me at the airport with open arms and lots of kisses (i hope) then to los lupes, as tradition requires. work.

9/19:MY BIRTHDAY. brunch at terrillis with good friends, rock my brains out later in the evening at the Motorhead show.

9/20: be extremely lazy, procrastinate unpacking for at least a day.

9/21: be extremely productive, unpack, do laundry, clear a few drawers for michelle, buy her some pillows and an egg crate for my bed because i know she loves those, buy two tickets to the Spree concert for my parents, work.

9/22: enjoy having my tiny dancer in dallas, do whatever she wants, try to influence what she wants to do by smiling at things i like and frowning at things i don't. fingers crossed she'll want to take a picnic to the arboretum or do a yoga class together or give eachother facials or visit the nasher sculptor center or make a stop for fruits and veggies at the farmers market or sneak into the four seasons pool, work.

9/23: repeat, work.

9/24: go thrift store shopping with kate, work.

9/25: curl kate's hair, have kate curl my hair, put flowers in my and kate's hair, take off shoes, dance like a flower child at the Spree concert, try not to embarrass parents too much.

9/26: pick my sister up from the airport!!!!! kiss her, hug her, and make her happy she's in dallas for the time being.

and somewhere in between all that: blog.

i count to ten, bending over in attempt to touch my toes, i make it to thr..two. if i had a job where i sat a computer all day, i'd bite the bullet and take this back pain like a champ, but it's a weekend night, which means i'll be doing the hustle till 3am. so complain, i shall.

from: the libido and the moon
July 23,2003

To the beach I go. I went. And i'm still here.

"Tuesday morning I was asked twice of what my plans were for that day. This caught me by surprise, for not only did I have nothing to do but I had no time to think of anything to do...to tell them. "Humph", I thought. Then I asked back, "what are you up to today?", he replied with this and with that and it all sounded so very extrodinary. I slumped with envy and shame at my nothingness.

Where were my Jersey sisters with grand plans?!? Why were they still in Austin?!?

So I drove off, gave a honk at the boy without his shirt doing that lusty manuel labor thing and I began to ponder...and ponder...until depression fell over me as the reality of my twentysomething failures set into view. But pity party me not. This setting of falling setted me off and down i-35 I flew, doing the speed limit; neverless, I was motivated.

I looked forward and not at that pie in the sky of 10 years from now I all to often get stuck drooling after, but to October and Novemeber; December and Janurary. Something had to be done and after lunch and conversation at Taco Express with Heather and Scott I was taking care of business, a semester full of F's bizness. That felt goood, real goood. I can now go back to school when I want and where I want, just Uncle Sam is cutting me off the sugar tree until further notice or until I cut off my arms and legs, which is what I'd need to do to be able to pay them back by the date they want. No worries, i'm ok-your ok, right hippie man?!?

Back to the beach prelude:

There I was in Austin, getting spell bound by the trails and hills reminding me of the good ol' days: the hours spent walking and exploring, sitting and reading, thinking and wishing, but most importantly chilling with Purpose. Purpose or Security, everyone needs it, we all seek it in some way or another and some go the distance of making purpose their security or security their purpose. It's the big universal schtick, i think. Like dinner and a movie. Well, blah blah blah, I decided to drive another 3 hours south and visit my parents in Corpus seeing as how I could and why the hell not.

It's been lovely, my mother is the most perfect being ever, my father a hoot and the clear skies, crashing waves, soft sand in-between my toes-perfect.

I'm ready to take Dallas on again.

Big City, please give me something to do.

On a different note-I woke up this morning missing your dog.

"

there was a time when the idea of munching on a bowl of green olives disgusted me, but here i am sitting at the computer staring sadly into an almost empty container-just two olives remain. make that one. ok, now none. i once heard that your taste buds undergo a metamorphosis every seven years. whether such a fact is true or not, i have not the slightest clue; though, i will attest that foods and spices i once cringed at, now dazzle my taste buds. such as, pizza and white wine.

back when i first started drinking wine it was all about merlot. nowadays i find my taste buds disagreeing with past fondness. a fine dining critic told me that merlot is for those who know nothing of wine, which as snobby as it is, makes sense. the wine bar i work at has, apart from snobby patrons, an excellent pinot noir; though the carement chardonnay...mmmm so buttery, so light, such an "exquisite finish" as the critic lady would declare. this persona is new. it's fun. it allows me to close my eyes as i lay on my bed listening to Beethoven whilst i ponder celestial wonders. but it's a persona, only a persona like most ostensible perceptions about my personality are. what i see versus what others see versus what is.

what i really and truely love are lists: making them, reading them, using them, and any other such function that may be slipping my mind as to concerning them.

here is one for relevance sake:

last album bought: two way monologue-sondre lerche.
last book bought:'the lottery' by shirley jackson
last clothing purchase: marc jacobs skirt for only $30!!!
last thought thought: "how can i make millions of dollars?"
last meal please: pb&j on wheat with a cherry coke.
last person to make me laugh so hard i couldn't walk: kate mcnarry- typically referred as 'the creative power behind a documentary concerning the shockingly distrurbing existence of breatharians and their concomitant, the ©airarians.'

trust me, it's much more interesting than my "to-do" list.

check: write in blog.

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.

Ugly Font and Silly Dots

just give me time; the blog is getting a makeover. comments and cuteness to return soon.

old friend: you know missie sometimes you just have to trust in god to provide.

me: sure, but don't forget: 'it's a fine line between faith and stupidity'.

old friend: haha, true.

as a card holding member of the christian community, i typically don't ask for much; hell, i don't even take up space at church (most) sunday mornings. but my tolerance is fading for this ever growing epidemic of over-spirituality: of believing you don't have to worry about finicial security because your going into the ministry; of young christians getting married to someone after half a year of dating because they've fabricated the voice of god telling them that he/she's "the one" when really they just want to get laid. or i've even heard stories about someone selling their house to help mortage the new church building because they believe it's the will of god. it's bullshit people. 'believers' need to start using their nogen- their god given logic and common sense. or could it be that i'm wrong and my worst fear is true, that what is logical is not spiritual?  

heaven help us all.

if only laziness was a feat of accomplishment:
 
it's almost 11am and i'm still in pjs; still have yet to make my bed or even eat breakfast, because you see, all that takes energy whilst this morning i have decided to take an adment stance against expediating any form of such energy. so much to the extreme that even though my libido is about to explode into outerspace, i refuse to remedy the problem.

but at 12o'clock i promise to return to the functional and productive world at large. perhaps: eat breakfast, brush my teeth, wash my face, ______, finish reading Jonny Panic and the Bible of Dreams, get ready for work, and if i'm really good, stop on my way to work and register for classes this fall. it's just one of those days, you know?!?   

shhhh, secrets:

"when the going gets tough the tough get.....", well more like it, they go to hooters by golly. yes siree, that fine establishment of big boobie waitresses with bleached blonde hair serving up some delicous spicy chicken wings in their tiny orange shorts and nude colored stockings; that place where the broosky never goes warm because those big boobie mamas put ziploc bags of ice in the pitchers; that place i never thought i'd go to unless i was with a group of dudes or a boyfriend who swore to me he only wanted to eat there because their chicken sandwhich is 'the BEST in TOWN'. but sure enough, i thought wrong. and i'm no longer afraid to admit it, i like eating at hooters from time to time; and yes, i ate there by myself one day when the craving for chicken wings and french fryes hit me like a brick house. but never, and when i mean never- i mean- nevereverever did i think that one day i would sucumb to the desperation of Needing/"wanting" a job there. that was until, one day,  i did. sure, sure i like eating at hooters but anybody who knows me knows, i'm no hooters girl. i wear glasses that lorie would call "tina fay" frames. though sure-sure i have rather proportinate titties for my size, neverless i still like to keep them on the D.L as much and as best as possible. nor have i ever been into dating guys for their money, their tan, or their truck; in addition, i could care less for 90% of male attention, 95% of exhibitionists, and pretending to be nice to obnixious anyones 100% of the time. which is why, the idea of applying to be a hooters babe revolted me so much that it took four different trips to the BIG OWL before i could bring myself to walk in and ask for an application. and when i finally did, i bombed. not at first but as the questions went on, i finally cracked into laughter when asked if i was ok with singing and dancing if needed. still i was desperate, so through the chuckle i replied, "sureeee".  needless to say, i never got the call back. but believe you me, I was more than perfectly OK with that; however, with the rejection i began to wonder, "am i not good enough for hooters? is it my hair? my eyes? my nose?. what do those other girls have that i don't?" then came monday. i went to hotel zaza to apply for a cocktail waitressing job and with extra time on my hands decided to apply at a few other bars in the area as well. two uptown bars later, i had a frenchman offer to me a cocktail job right there on a spot. not being good enough for hooters while being perfect for a posh upscale bar...,cool with me.

"meaningful-anxiety syndrome", that is the neurosis my, bachelors in psycology, brother-in-law prescribed me of having. and he is absolutely correct, i am the type who needs to feel that there is something meaningful in anything and everything i do: relationships, jobs, time, purchases, vacations, education, blogging, etc, and etc. i blame it on christianity; on the virgo personality trait; and, on middle child syndrome, and though at times i'm glad it exists there are those other times, i wish i wasn't always weighed down with the feeling of needing all the ingrediants of my life to be so; to have, in paramount terms, not only significant intention but in some manner of fashion, a signifcant outcome. i wish i could be content with the things and people in my life being nothing more than a buffer of time, of me being just another number and face; of one day leaving this earth with no real contributation given, or impact made. but i can't, no matter how much nietchze i read or sex and the city i watch; no matter how deep the holes are that i dig or how high the hurdles are i face...i want purpose that goes beyond the content for mediocricity and shallowness; i want to think on my death bed that i helped make this world a better place, that my existence left a positive dent and that those i chose to be in it, i loved and proved myself loyal, through words and action, with all my heart and soul. i get so down, so upset with myself, and with god, when that goal seems afar off from actualization. that's when i'll take a walk, and i remember that little sign on my 8th grade english teacher's wall that said, "if it is to be, than it is up to me". god granted: all i can do is my best.

a horse is a horse

i wake to find fuzzy demiurgic monsters slowly crawling under my bed, glancing up at me in my igaloo of white blankets, exposing their sharp singular tooths as they lick their hot pink lips with great delight. one jumps up on my bed in mid lick, white feathers shoot from the seams in my comforter like rockets that float, and before i have time to pull the covers over my head it pins itself: it's mouth to my ear, and with a chilly hiss that tickles like Emo, whispers to me, what i suppose to be a message revealing their secrets and purpose for me; however, it's a cryptic forbidden language that i've only read about, not yet attained. and before i have time to tell it that i don't understand, my tummy growls so ferociously, that before i can blink (not twice but once), it, in a poof-esque instant, disappears. "damn you last nights cucumber and hummus sandwhich for not holding me over for a measly twelve hours!!!", i , with emphasis on the damn, moan then groan then open my window so that i may fling myself to the earth two feet below. the month of july is approaching it's end, but instead of the air being warm and stagnant like it usually is, it's cool as a cat and it's flooding my room as it battles the curtains. white linen curtains versus cool soft breeze. go breeze go. "life is worth living once again", i moan then groan then lift myself back from the end of the window-sill, out of my bed and onto the hardwood floor covered in the dust of anjou pear incense from the night before's nightly ritual that i 've now found to be fouled by the fan. last night was also an evening of beethoven and a boring book about weimar culture; of twirling elephants and tigers and tulips in red and green and blue and orange dancing on my walls- my new cool lamp synchronized with the spinning vinyl. already this morning i'm feeling antsy, like unless i feed this urge to create, i'll peel over in my seat right this second, dead as a door knob. metaphorically, of course.

quick..what a weird word, quuiiicccckkkkkkk:

sometimes, i really dig dallas. even uptown (despite the people in uptown). but my favorite spot is lakewood. i like looking at the cyclists on my way home from work everyday. i like thinking, "yah, that's what i'm going to do first thing tomorrow: bike the lake." even though, every morning, i wake up and think, " nah, i think i'm going to get stuff done instead-it's too effin hot". i can't put my finger quite on it but there is this peculiar and yet ambient nature to the city that makes me dig it, despite it's disappointing short-comings. it's not something i think the average joe schmoo will ever realize, but it's so definately here; and some mornings, i lavish in it. today i went over to marks to see if he could fix my record player, of course he's on tour, and so as i'm heading back to live oak, i see andy's car. so i stop and knock on his door. there are beer bottles everywhere, i assume from the party rach and i missed last weekend. andy isn't there but his room-mate is and so drew and i talk for a bit, play ketchup, and i leave. back to live oak, and down to good records, because it's been awhile and i just got paid. there's a new guy behind a counter, another overly devouted polyphonic fan, who helps me fix my record player and tries to talk me into buying the new albumn. i leave with a fixed record player and the thermals, thank-you very much. i haven't been myself for the past week. i just started. and it explains alot but it doesn't justify me making someone else put up with me as i ride this emoutional roller-coaster of over-sensativity and irrationalism. i think it's time to do as my doc says and get on the pill. i'm so sick of this happening to me every month. screw gaining the extra weight. being a size 0 is awesome but being normal 30 days out of the month is even more awesome. but dallas. back to dallas. it's friday night and i want sushi, sushi on mckinney!!! i want to go to the nasher sculpture center too. maybe even see a movie. i'll call adam to see if he's game. jon, i wish you were here. ps-sorry.

i have 22 "things to do":
 
one of which is to find out, definatively, what i need to do about my warrants. a few weeks ago, i frequented all the cities where i am in violation to set court dates and etc, but, to no avail. the various clerks couldn't find anything in there system about me-not even proof that i once had an outstanding ticket or warrant in their city. nor has anything come in the mail like it was suppose to.  it would be nice to think that i've fallen through the cracks but the repurcusions of assuming such good fortune would be aweful. i also need to find a second job so i can visit jon and michelle in september. i've been to a few different restraunts, plastered my resume on the internet, and whored myself to corporate america, but once again, to no avail. sitting in my back seat is my record player; i need to take it into radioshack to see if they can fix it for me because i'm dying to listen to longwave and the reindeer section and my bloody valentine and the beatles. i finally have a computer, i even have dsl, but since i'm without a desk to put it on, it's currently collecting dust on my floor. so that's another thing i need to do: buy a desk and dust, return mrs. eggert her bike, buy febreeze and two curtain rods, do laundry,  scrub the bathtub, pull weeds in the garden, clean out car, make lots of money, be perfect, be lovely, put others before myself, work-out, eat only organic foods, shave legs twice a day, read the bible and all the great thinkers, email everyone back(ecspecially christina in romania), call my old friends and set up lunch dates, make copy of lease aggrement, mail michelle her package, send erik a "hello/i miss you" card, and if i time, finish the new york times crossword.

this past weekend i:

-drank margarita after margarita after margarita.
-took a margarita to-go style from matidios.
-biked ten miles in the heat of the day.
-went to a gallery of goblets.
-fell asleep in my clothes twice.
-woke up in my bathing suit once.
-ate edame constantly.
-watched the marathon of blow out on bravo.
- supposedly left twelve messages on someones voice mail.
-missed the "party of the year" because rachel forgot to set the alarm, albeit she was very toasty after the blue rita.
-was beaten in a swimming race
 
what about you? 
 

licking my thumb and sticking it into the wind:

the intimidation invloved from too much time slipping by; it's substance, without an outlet, now lost in my memory proves to be an additional resistance in this attempt to recap/to catch up/to get my fingers a'moving, therefore due to this developmental arrest i'm oh-so annoyed because i'd really like to spill it all, fill you in, sort and scatter; classify and document each and everyday in each and everyway: what i'm reading, what i'm listening to, how i feel about this and about that, and those suprises that whip my head around before i have a chance to catch my breath; that which abdons me clueless with streak after streak of it's peculiar composition.

i love toffee nut lattes. i love waking up without an alarm clock buzzing in my ear and checking my email with said latte in hand. it makes me grin from ear to ear. i love spending time with my parents: the three of us with our toes catching worn out waves as we dose off under the corpus sun, playing scrabble at the local coffee house, or just that other stuff that goes unnoticed all too often, like helping my mother clear the kitchen table or my father reading me aloud some article in the paper he finds to be blashemous concerning the republican party. i love jeff buckley. i love hello(and goodbye) kisses. i love working out so hard, sweat drips from off my nose. i love blue jean jackets that fit like a glove. i love my new thirft store skirt that has tea pots and something, in french, about vegetables and soup printed on it. i love it when i've spent a long day at the beach and have sun kissed cheeks to show for it. i love my orange kitty, Clover and making mixed cds for my friends. i love it all in way that abuses the word itself but neverless- does justice to my adoration and enthusiasm.

i have a dozen incomplete posts in my draft file that, later tonight, after i get back from seeing spiderman 2, i hope to finish; and then, to write something new-something interesting.

it all began with mexican lasagna:

i'm aiding in the clarification of many dear souls thanks to this article . and after i get through reading this, i'm jazzed about getting to this.

every time i see the new mtv "not rated for adults" commercial i laugh myself to tears. has anyone seen the one where the old man seems to be having a heart attack-he's lying on the ground grasping at his chest as he tells his wife how much he loves her, the camera zooms in to capture the look of utter fear on the faces of the grandchildren and the son in the background calling 911. all of a sudden the old man starts to laugh; everyone is confused, the old man blurts out,"i punked you soooo good. oh you should have seen the look on all your faces". it's effin hillarious.

i went out last night for some margaritas with rachel and ended up with a new gay boy pumping me on his bike back to my car. we made silly sounds with our voices as we went over the cobblestone streets. we giggled about breakfast at tiffany's. we drank too much. we made plans for scrabble and wine. and then we went to see the 100 inevitables at the barley house. it was everything i needed and more: a million friendly faces, toby pointing with an added wink, a shot of tuaca and advise, and a cute and witty gay boy as the cherry on the top.

up until tonight, i had never desired to be any closer to the moon than i am here on earth. but as i drove home from work, it was so much more spectacular than usual- a tantalizing bright white, with the canvas behind it, so clean and blue; so vast and so curious. i felt like joe versus the volcanoe (with no volcanoe or vengenance against mother nature. just me in my car and the moon lightening up the night sky in such a glorious manner of grandioseness and lucidity that if i tried, i would be able to count the craters by name). everything about it had me wishing i could be closer-that i could go up there, and i began to regret that one day i will die without ever seeing the view from that destination; that all i will have took was the reverse image and not the experience.

my favorite section in the paper is the Discoveries/ Science Times, and in those sections, my favorite articles, the ones concerning pebbles from Mars or Saturns newly discovered moons or the (note, hypothetical) theory that the universe is expanding. i just can't get over the intricacy; and yet, how so very perfect it all fits togather. it baffles me that with technology as advance as it is, we (being a society as a whole) ignore or refuse the blantant evidence of God's divine handmanship; that we (still a whole) search for anything else to be the answer to the, already solved, equation. but this, science and god's omnioscent nature, is not my area of expertise...by any laughable means. i simply noticed the moon tonight seemed bigger and brighter than i remember having ever seen it before and wished i had wanted to be an astronaut as badly as i do right now when once upon a time, life was my f'in oyster.

ohhhh to taste, not just imagine.

lost in inhalation, found along the way

there are words and dreams and fears i keep to myself; disguised but not invisible, a vault of bashful yet lustily emoutions, and desires so sincere; so tender, so very subtle in their intensity. i guard their exposure because i should; because i ought to; because i'm afraid of their potential and actuality-paranoid of percieved niavity and assumption, but to share; to not just tell you stories, i know i must lift the veil and reveal my introspective qualities, just a little.

sunday morning i watched jon pull out of the drive way. moments before we were hugging-me crying and him consoling with gentle words. i thought that because of all the farewells i have recently endured i was prepared for this one, but i wasn't...at all. and despite that i knew this move was and is right for him-was and is an awesome experience, the fact that my live-in close friend was moving so far away, disabled me from hiding my secret-selfish-sadness from rolling down my cheeks.

it seems silly-something to be embarrased about, like trying to properly roll a r your first time in french class, when it's not-it's just the way in which i articulate, so very american-so very intense when it comes to those i love; becoming so very affected when one that i love is no longer in hugs reach; no longer waiting for me to get off work to watch a movie with or to go running with; no longer able to read a book while he plays computer games or she re-organizes her room, for the twentieth time that week. but their are friends: people. and this may not be something everyone can understand but it's something i know my sister does-the feeling of being alone when your not. and then the feeling of being perfectly content and happy and understood because your with that one person that gets you, that you can sit next to in a car with, and not speak a damn word for the entire distance in between point a and point b.

lately i've been listening to alot of sigur ros. it's been incessantly raining in tumultuous sheets, day and night. i've been reading the paper from front to back- religious about completing both crossword puzzles in it. there's the quelling rhythm of the storms and then there's just too much silence, not actual silence, but an internal hush brought on with the new void.

i'll stop and evalute. i'll think about how cool it is that all my friends are out and about living their lifes to the fullest. this makes me happy...no giddy, truely giddy. i contribute a part of this to me, because i'm like that; self-appraising ,contradictive, and encouraging. true i've allowed myself to indulge in this self-loathing but then it is also true that i've relentlessly encouraged each and every one of my friends to follow, whole heartdly, his or her dreams; cursing when i hear talk of giving up.

assuming is something i restrain myself from doing-i speculate, i hypothesis, i wonder but hardly ever do i assume (unless of course by not assuming i should be caught niave or foolish or pestimistic). but usually, for the most part, i don't. ecspecially when it comes to that which pertains to the future. this is a blessing and on it's flip side, it is a curse. i aim to be realistic but moreso, i aim to be optomistic. so here in 'the reality', i wonder and speculate and hypotheis what his move should mean and will mean.

and then, most off all, it boils downs to the fact that i miss him, more than i imagened i would; more than i know i should.

saturday night, jon and i went to the old monk for one more bon-voyage celebration. i took lots of pictures, drank lots of pink elephant beer, watched as hugs were exchanged, but i wouldn't let myself take the moment in, just too surreal.

because i don't have a computer, this post has taken me days to finish. a little here and little there. today is actually wednesday. i've spoken to jon a few different times as well as this morning. today he's somewhere in bewtween snow peaked mountains and the clouds. i haven't heard him be so chatty since i first met him over two years ago. he's obviously happy and it's beautiful...it's great.

the worst day of my life...continued

the bank was a happening place that morning. after a while another man in uniform showed up and this; the sight of two cop cars defensively positioned behind this miniture good records and the flag of russia bumber stickered suv, caused a scene for the public to interest themselves in. i kept on thinking that perhaps they had me confused me with some escaped convict or one of america's most wanted but as they approached the car, one on the right side telling me as he walked closer that, "Ms. Rose, you have warrants out for your arrest from the City of Six Flags and Arbor Days so I have no choice but to take ya in" , while the other officer sneaked very cautiously to the left side of my car i realized, it was nothing more than two bored and power hungry cops that were, not only going to take me in after i pleaded and showed them reciepts proving that i was in the process of taking care of all my old tickets but also, that i only had so much money but that they could trust that i was definately in the process, that regardlessly, they were going to handcuff me in front of everyone.

i don't remember my rights being read. i do remember feeling what seemed to be a thousand eyes burning themselves on me as the police officer asked me to step out of my car; and those some eyes penetrating me as i was put into handcuffs and ushered into the back seat of the cop car.

yep that's how i got here.

i called jon and my mother about nine hours ago. i figured my mother would wire jon the money to get me out-which meant that my she would have to go to the bank, and this i imagined would take maybe a hour. jon would then take the money to the clerk at the police station, and this i thought might take another hour. but as i lay here, having just finished my jail dinner, i don't think it happened. i have no idea what's going on and how long i'm going to be in here. the walls are suffocating me; i can hardly breathe in this limited space. i feel so confined, which is the point i know, but not all birds are meant to be caged for any amount of time and now i know i am that hybrid of a bird. i want to scream. loud. i want to rip out the sink and throw it at the wall. hard. i want to stick my head in the toleit till i loose consciousness. groose. the toliets don't flush. it faces the bars. the police officers walk by every thirty minuets or so. i have no privacy to go to the bathroom but i've done it anyways, three times. instead of acting upon anything i'm wishing i would do, i lay here and wish i wasn't here. i've avoided crying since my by law phone call, or in my case, phone call(s). but i'm loosening it. i'm really loosing my shit. the thought of being in here for another hour is ripping my instinates up through my throat. i never had a chance to call into work. i hope they don't fire me. i never had a chance to call rachel and cancel our plans to go bowling tonight. i'm sure she'll understand.

where are you jon?

i know he's doing everything he can. i'm sure of it. i can't wait to see him and thank him with my biggest warmest hug ever. he's really earning his true blue friend badge today. but why in the hell am i still in here. maybe theirs some paperwork he can't do because it's asking for information, like my social security number, that he doesn't know. i have no way of calling him to make sure theirs nothing i can do to help.

after numerous times of asking if i can make a phone call to see what's going on and to make sure theirs nothing jon or my mother need to know to get me outta here, i'm finally granted permission.

ten minuets later i hear a husky voice yell, "Ms.Rose". i know what this means. it means bail has finally been made-it means the paper work as finally gone through-it means, most importantly, that i can go home.

i give the officer a hug. she stands there not knowing what to do with this affection but i give it anyways.

jon's been working all day on getting me out and now he's on his way to pick me up. i've just spent the entirity of the day in jail but that pales in comparision to how blessed and thankful i'm feeling for jon.

i love this man. i hate jail.

the worst day of my life

in the distance i can hear the sounds of handcuffs clicking, of a police officer interogating, what i presume to be, a drunken hobo, of metal doors sliding open and then hastily closing, and of a girl quietly sobbing in her hands. i try to close my eyes tighter; wishing i could fall asleep and wake up somewhere else but the collection of sounds is too sureal and the mat on which i lay upon is cold and dirty. reality is, i'm in jail and there's no escaping it's presence. ten hours ago i was on my way to the bank, damien rice was bleeding himself through the speakers, and the day ahead seemed bright and productive. it was 9:30am and i was already off to a good start. that is until behind me pulled up a police car, whom then, followed me into the parking lot of the bank with his lights flashing those terrifying blue, red, and white streaks of noise. but that's not why i'm sitting here in this jail cell praying for my life to be over, and over now. no see, four years ago on my way back from a splendid day at the modern my foot became a little heavy and before i knew it i was waved to pull over so i could sign my autograph for a man in uniform. soon i realized he wasn't an admirer of my ability to go really fast in such a little suv nor did he have a thing for a pixie with big green eyes and blonde hair-nope, he was the law and i was caught breaking it by 15mph. this, in addition to a few other unpaid traffic violations, i had totally forgotten about till another man in uniform reminded me.

TO BE CONTINUED...

here and there

ivan lenin has a link to a great article about when the "Evil Empire" speech reached a man by the name of natan sharansky in his siberian prison camp; bella tells a heart warming tale about a little girl named abi; tony pierce gives his three cents on how you should blog; scientists in austria are proving to the world i'm not crazy for believing that teleportation is possible; madpony is calling quits because one of them, supposedly, is beating up a dead horse; while gordon lightfoot is making a come back; lorie bug accidentally wore her 300lb grandmothers lingere as a ghost costume; and candied ginger is having technical difficulties, again.

as for me, yesterday i was nearly attacked by a million spiders hiding in a book shelf my new room mate was wanting to sell at our next garage sale as i tried to move it inside to be my new bookshelf. fortunately, i have a very keen sense of danger and was able to drop the book shelf before the spiders could make me lunch. and now i'm off to eat my breakfast, sign up for some tai-chi classes, drop some things off at the dry cleaners, mail my dad his fathers day present and michelle a little something-something, vaccum out my car, and then to work.

zenaholic

saturday wasn't my birthday, it was just another summer day; a day i had off from work with extra funds wadded up in my beaded coin purse with little to do until jon's bon voyage party that evening. however, the universe at large didn't know better. it could smell something special- it could see my determination in making the day as beautiful as i was hoping it indeed would be.

by 9:30 that morning, after a night in which not much sleep was attained, my a.d.d was splitting my head in two. i had already watched as much real world as one is allowed to on any given day. i had showered; i had cleaned the living room and the kitchen and the bathroom, and so, there was only one more thing that i could think of doing to quench the time until, and that was shopping.

for the past year i have had to be as frugile as possible and that meant: no aveda hair products, having to scrap the bottom of my lip stick tub with the sharp part of the top of a ball point pen, selling my old clothes for used clothes at buffalo exchange, consuming more fast food in one year than in all my 24 years combined, relaying on the music section of the dallas observer for the inside scoop, and begging friends to burn me their newest purchases from good records.

i didn't want to over-compensate neccesarily, but i did feel some sort of compensation wasn't neccesarily over-indulgent either. i honestly needed new make-up, although having no choice but to be a'natural was nice; i needed shampoo and conditioner, although after a six months of using just whatever- i was beginning to second guess my attachment to aveda; and though i didn't really need any new clothes, i sure as hell wanted to get something cute to wear to the party that night. i set a budget making sure i would have enough for the keg and for buns and for the remainder of time until i would be recieving my next paycheck. and so off i went to the mecca of materialism, the northpark mall.

and here is why i believe the universe believed it was birthday:

my first stop was at the lancome counter in foleys. with assistance from the wrinkled sun bleached sales lady, i decided on a nice rosy mauve shade of lip stick and an under eye conclear for mornings where you wake up and need a little help on disguising the lack of sleep from the night before. as we approached the register she inquired about my shoe size, which being a girl i knew this could mean only one thing-gift time!!! and sure enough that's exactly what it was.

walking out of foleys, not even 11am and, i already had a sense that it was going to be a great day. before i had a chance to blow a kiss to the stars above i stumbled right upon an aveda promotional sting. realizing life was trying to lay a wet one on me i confidently approached the pack of blonde bombshells in their hip black attire and inquired the purpose of this sight, in which, they whipped me away for a complimentary massage, blow out, make-over, and a bottle of personalized perfume. i thanked them with a few purchases and a beaming smile of gratitude.

i hoped right onto clouds and skipped my way over to club monoco. by this point i was in love with the world; every baby, every old man, every dirty mexican glazing me with his lusty eyes, every smu princess totting her newly purchased goods from lacoste and burberry and neimans. in such moods i can't help but to make friends at every place i enter and so i spent and twenty dollars on a tank top and a hour chatting with the sex in the city-esque sales ladies.

then over to anthropologie where i found the cutest stripped capris on sale.

and alas to nine west where i bought the hippest yellow mary janes that, unfortunately hurt like hell so i doubt if i'll ever wear them again. regardless, they are super cute despite of the icky and painful blisters they gave me.

after a few hours of the best shopping ever i knew it was time to get on with the rest of my day but as i'm walking out to my car with all my new goodies dangling from my arms, a smile stretched from ear to ear, i ran into a guy friend who, before i could even open my mouth for a "heeeellllllooooo lovely", bursts out laughing at what i imgaine must have been quite a sight, then chuckles, "girls".

damn straight pirro.

float on

there are two ways to greet the inevitable and change: reluctantly or happily, the first ensures unneccesary turmoil and pain while the later offers perspective and growth. i've tried to live my life always excited about the different turns and forms it takes, and, the different people that come and then, that go.

i remember one day in grade school, kristy and i had got caught passing a note in class in which lied our secret feelings about one of our teachers. sure enough we were sent to the office, given swats, detention, and were warned that our parents would be called immediately about our lack of respect and honor for our authority figure. after we were let out of the office recess was taking place, so kristy and i huddled ourselves in the darkest corner of the playground to dicuss the unfairity of what had just happened. sure we were passing a note in class but nothing too horrible had been written to justify not only swats but detention, and a meeting with our parents in which we were sure to be grounded and given more swats at home. i decided i would never write another note about a teacher and so after a few minuets of discussing this i was ready to play again but kristy was black and blue with the inevitable punishment we were to recieve at 3 o'clock that afternoon. i pleaded with her to have fun till 3o'clock-to do the spider with me on the swing set-to not let something we couldn't control bother her but she couldn't and so i sat there next to her in silence until the bell finally rang.

i remember falling head over heals for a boy with a girlfriend; him hinting to me their soon to be end and our later to be beginning, then him running off and marrying her. at first i was sad then after some thought was given i was happy that even though i had thought and hoped to be the girl to run off with him to the alter, that in the end, the right one did.

i remember sitting outside of starbucks with era exchanging gifts just hours before her flight back to moscow-both of us unwilling to admit a goodbye was appropiate, tears filling my eyes knowing it might be years before we would see eachother again and still i wouldn't say goodbye or how sad i was that she was going because we both knew it was sad and sadder if we admitted to it. instead we spoke about how exciting it was going to be for her to live in downtown moscow and experience whatever it was god had planned for her.

i remember my sister telling me she might move to london and having to supress the possible sadness of not having my best friend, my snuggle bunny, my better half around with the happiness that she would be moving somewhere to do what she was meant to do.

i remember feeling the same way each time stephanie would pack up and move.

i remember the first time i meet jon and after the first night knowing that he was meant to be in my life in some way or the other.

in years to come i'll look back and remember how excited and unaffected i tried to be when he moved because i'll remember that i knew he would be happier up there, that he was going somewhere he wanted to be, and life went the way it was planned.

Today's Horoscope Reads:

"It's touch-and-go, on-again-off-again, or just a basic salad of mixed messages. The right relationship blossoms in a hospitable climate, but you have to wonder about some of these changes in the weather. Would it help to forget everything that went before? While historical perspective is often useful, it might be clouding the issues here and now. The person that matters most will soon become a key element of your future. And if you're trying to build a house on shifting sand, that will soon be obvious as well. Be open to realistic predictions."

Signed,

The Stars of Virgo

another wedding story

in the front yard a white tent was pitched; bouquets filled with roses, chrysanthemums, lilies, and snap dragons welcomed the fanning grandmothers and highschool era friends. in a room full of six girl's clutter, in the house of the yard in which this tent of close family and friends are collected under, stands the bride, like so many brides before her: glowing, radiant, anxious, nervous, and exigent. earlier that day as she raced into the house with her dress and shoes and make-up and this and that in her brides maids arms, dark clouds had announced their possible, uninvited arrival. hours later the matron of honor is slaving over the brides train with a mini steamer in her hands desperately trying to slay a stubborn wrinkle.

i'm standing in the door way, a spectator, a guest, a friend worried as to how this beautiful bride i'm gawking over will handle the chance of isolated thunder storms becoming more than a chance. fortunately, they don't and so it remains a beautiful and peaceful day, shortly becoming a beautiful and intoxicating night.

the wedding was like most i've attended- their are the little girls dolled up in big girl dresses tossing rose petals down the aisle to the affirmation of a hundered smiling adoring faces; their is the underlying akwardness of strangers being stuck next to eachother in tight rows of white chairs for such an intimate and important occasion; their is the minister that makes everyone wonder if he didn't have one too many before the ceremony at the open bar prior to the open bar being opened; their is the slip-up during the exchanging of vows where the groom stumbles in nervousness at what he was just declaring. in familiar ways with slight differences, like so many before, it was the same unique wedding.

the celebrating entourage is ushered to the back yard where twinkling candels and fairy lights illuminate the night with an enchanting aurora and where i happily indulge my thrist with the intended concept of an open bar.

i'm in a dazzling blue dress, jon is in a tuxedo, coldplay is resonating in my ears, the bride and groom are both looking at me to participate and so i swallow my pride and ask a boy to dance to with me for the first time in my life. i can't tell if he hates it or just hates dancing but he's being a team player and so i let my head drop on his shoulder for the twenty seconds i don't feel weird for having my head rest on his shoulder.

their is more dancing. thier is more wine. their is the cutting of the cakes. their is the table i am sitting at; everyone is off mingeling or attending to their wedding party duties, and so then their is me under the table-sleeping until the table cloth is removed. this sudden realization dawns upon me that i'm sleeping under the table and the once loud air is now quiet, and i need to throw up, and i need to do it fast.

i'm in a dazzling blue dress hugging the toliet, curious as to how long i've been sleeping, if anyone saw me, if anyone noticed i was missing for so long, who caught the bouquet and garder belt, what the car looked like after the grooms men had their way with it, if jon will drive me back tomorrow to get my car, and how this wasn't just another wedding but a wedding to remember.

go,go,go

i'm stopping to catch my breathe but passing out sounds more inticing; more needed, just a little bit more sleep, a little bit more time in the morning before i rush off to work, a little bit more time to sit here and write in my blog-to write over due emails, more time to gather smiles-new friends, more time to think about the fall-to think about the pixies and belle coming to town. more time: a life-long ambition, carried out from generation to generation, a wish that is only made when in it's lacking never in it's excess. on the drive home tonight i almost fell asleep. i was on the highway. driving. dizzy with seductive slumber, exhausted with heavy eyes, nervous as shit because i couldn't help it. but it was nice to be able to spend time with my mother after work, even though that time was limited and consisted of waffle house and me too droggy to be my happy little attentive self, still it was really nice. tomorrow i have another wedding to attend, a dress to borrow for it, a gift to wrap, boxes to be dropped off at my new place, more to be picked up from the other side of the metroplex, and ohh yes the brides wedding brunch in which i will be given a list of things to do for her. i perfer this rush. i like it. it feels productive. or i feel productive. moving: my damn infatution with motion, and rhythm...and pretty skirts that dance when you walk. but right now i'm soo tired and thristy. in addition to my regular shift i taught 14 swim lessons today. that's 14 kids clinging to me, me holding as i wade water, me encouraging, me sooo very poooped out from.

goodnight lovelies.