I am a CTG.

Ok, so, most of my readers probably won't think this is as funny as I do. But, someone circulated an article around my department called "I am a Front Desk Clerk" about the hotel industry, and we thought it was so hysterical that I decided to personalize it for the 15 of us. I've been up since 4:30am and it was a great creative break in my day. I asked Kiddo if she thought one who didn't work in my world could possibly see the humor in it, and she said that people who don't work in offices watch and enjoy The Office and Office Space all the time. Fair logic. And if you've ever worked in customer service ever, well, I think you'll get the gist:

I am a CTG.

I am a CTG. I have advanced degrees in public relations, marketing, business, advertising, computer science, civil engineering, plumbing, carpentry, and Chinese. I am also a mind-reader.

Of course I have the order that you faxed into the Boston office the day of the advance price cut-off, even though it is not in the files, the computer, or the office, and you have no proof that you actually did so.

It is totally not a problem for me to give you a 40'x60' custom-built SST booth with graphics made with your company logo. It’ll be ready before the show opens, even though that’s less than an hour away. And of course you can have free vacuuming; I know it’s my fault that the booth next to you left their trash in the aisle. I’m also happy to custom-dye your table drapes to match your eyes.

I am a CTG. I speak 25 languages. It’s obvious to me when you checked “will-call” on your labor order, you meant Sunday at 3pm. My company has entrusted me with all financial information and decisions as well, so it’s completely legitimate for me to give you straight-time pricing even though my guys will work until midnight at double-time rates.

I understand that Jo-Bob’s Custom-Made Toilet Seat Covers is a vast empire that will make or break our company. Yes, I am lying to you when I say that we don’t have any light dusty rose carpet. It’s not a problem for me to get some flown in from the San Francisco office, even though we’re in Miami. Yes, it is my fault that I didn’t anticipate your needing it, even though you never sent in an order form.

I am a CTG. I can hardly sleep at night knowing how much I ripped off a multi-billion dollar American pharmaceutical company by charging them $59 for a chair. I know exactly where your booth giveaways are, even though you have no idea who shipped them, what city they came from, your tracking number, or how many boxes were in your shipment. Yes, I know when you signed a credit card authorization form you weren’t actually authorizing us to use it. I’m happy to take blame for the fact that your 60” plasma television set has a scratch on the back corner of it, even though you shipped it across the country in a cardboard box.

I understand that you are the only exhibitor that has an early flight out tomorrow, so of course you have special permission to break down your booth before the hall closes, and I’m happy to go into the 18 tractor trailers of empty storage, find your 3 boxes that would have fit under your 6’ table, and bring them to you before I do anything else.

I am a CTG. I’m happy to take the blame for the exhibit hall temperature, the price of your airline ticket, your booth location, the lack of show traffic, how close the bathrooms are to your booth, and the war in Iraq. I realize when you sent your carpet order to Priority Networks, it would get to me eventually, and it’s totally my responsibility to make sure you wrote the correct booth number on your order form. I have no trouble getting you 8 labor guys, 8 hours each, for noon, even though you placed the order at 11:30am. They’re all just standing around outside waiting for us to throw ‘em some work. I’m also happy to let your toddler run around underneath the forklifts during move-in even though your show kit (which you have never read) specifically forbids it, since that one lady up front with the brown hair said it was OK.

Feel free to plug in your cell phone at my desk, use my computer to print things off your thumb drive that probably has a big fat virus on it, and use our fax machine to fax things to Japan. Go ahead and make 100 copies of your mailing labels while you’re at the fax machine, too. It only takes about a minute per sheet. I'll even provide the paper. Yes, I know internet access should be free anywhere your feet can take you, but since it’s not, I have a computer chip in my head that tells me exactly where Smart City is at all times, in case they aren’t at their desks.

I am a CTG: an accountant, a lost-and-found, a carpenter, an electrician, a teamster, a caterer, a wireless network guru, a manager, a concierge, a map, a verbal punching bag, and a honing beacon for the nearest Starbuck’s. Oh, and I know who took your wastebasket.

Respectfully re-created by Jamie Hawkins, with regards to the overworked, underpaid front desk clerk who wrote the original.

Who here is surprised?

You are a double espresso!!!

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic.

At your worst, you are: anxious and high-strung.

You drink coffee: anytime you're not sleeping.

Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

STEAK!!!

Last night we went to Del Frisco's. GAAAAHHH.

I can't even describe how much I love a good steak. Del Frisco's has an awesome "Governer's Filet," which is a 6 oz. filet with their killer mashed potatoes. I don't even like mashed potatoes and these are to die for. They have green onions in them and are covered in a pool of butter, then are put back in the oven to crisp over. I had a caesar salad and we shared a la carte asparagus and sauteed mushrooms and the best creamed spinach I have ever had in my LIFE. I'm sure all the nutritional properties of the spinach are completely obliterated by the copious amounts of cheese and cream and bacon. YUM. And I don't even have words to describe the lemon cake. *swoons*

The best part was that our short, bald, adorable, and Derek Webb-esque waiter apparently took a fancy to me, and gave me extra blue-cheese stuffed olives in my martini, and brought me a second one "on the house, love." Wheee!

On another note, how do you know you've been working too many hours together? When you do not talk to each other at all and meet at 7:15am wearing the exact same outfit:

Love, the Bobbsey Twins.

Viva Las Vegas!

OK, so, these two weeks I am spending at World Market Center. Most of you know I work in trade show management. This is not a trade show. Las Vegas is building a new permanent furniture showroom called World Market Center and until it is done (projected 2008) they are doing these biannual temporary show rooms. It's excruciating on many levels, not the least of which being that no one at this show has ever done a trade show before, including show management. The fun part is that we're in these big tents. They look pretty much exactly like this:

Except the part about the bees. Well, that I'm aware of.

There are three of them. They're pumping artificial air in here as fast as they can so it's really hot and dry in here, then the wind catches the glass door (which is right beside me), slams it back into the "wall," which shakes the entire tent. Also, the tents are white, so from about 11am to 3pm, the sun reflects off the one next to me, and I have to wear my sunglasses at the desk. I look like an idiot. ("You seem to go out of your way to make me feel like a complete idiot every time you're near me, and you really needn't bother. I already feel like an idiot most of the time anyway. With, or without, a fireman's pole." ~Bridget Jones.)

The other fun part about temporary structures are temporary bathrooms. Oh yeah baby. We have the uber-elite "executive" portables. They are, in fact, these:

Except on cement instead of grass. I wish I could find you a better picture. Perhaps I'll take one. There's about 12 stalls in there with toilets that actually "flush," ibym "flush"... "goes down into a big hole with a little water running solely on gravity", and sinks that say "DO NOT DRINK THIS WATER" above them. Ick. Also, it's like washing your hands in ice water, so I wouldn't feel clean even if the water was, in fact, potable. And since it's basically a big tin can, it's about 40 degrees in there, which is not an inviting environment in which to pull down one's pants.

The other thing is this: I always said I thought I could live in the desert. Well, scratch that. The desert in the winter is like crawling around on the surface of Mars. (I know, I've been.) The sun is scorching hot and the shade is freezing cold and the wind whips around knocking things over and there's absolutely nothing to block it. *whimper*

How is everyone else's environments?

ETA: Somebody stole my hoodie!!! Damn you Lord Voldemort!!!! **shakes fist at sky**

“It's loud, it's cheap, it's gaudy. It's like everything I've ever done - I LOVE IT!"

You are Betty Grable!!


The ulitmate girl next door.

You're the perfect girl for most guys.

Pretty yet approachable, beautiful yet real.

What Famous Pin-Up Are You?

Ripped from the headlines:

Krysten, what is wrong with you? You know I am powerless to resist these kinds of things!

1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES? clear Depression glass (Cape Cod) .

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Beach Music, by Pat Conroy.

3. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I use a track pad.

4. FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Trivial Pursuit.

5. LEAST FAVORITE SMELL? vanilla.

6. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU GET UP IN THE MORNING? coffee...

7. FAVORITE COLOR? red.

8. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR? yellow.

9. HOW MANY RINGS UNTIL YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? until I decide whether or not I want to talk to you.

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? Barclay, Quinn, Jude, Canaan

11. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? Coffee.

12. DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST? Yes.

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? Yes.

14. DO YOU LIKE THUNDER STORMS? Yes.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? 1988 Buick Park Avenue. Puse.

16. WHAT IS YOUR SIGN? Leo.

17. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Yes.

18. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Philanthropist.

19. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR? Red.

20. IS THE GLASS HALF FULL, OR HALF EMPTY? Depends on my mood.

21. FAVORITE MOVIE? L.A. Confidential, Life is Beautiful, It's a Wonderful Life, The Sound of Music, Amelie... I won't go on but there are many.

22. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? I don't even know what that means.

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? I don't have a bed at the moment... but come next Friday, I'm sure there will be plastic boxes full of NYC things I don't need in Texas, like scarves and gloves.

24. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 13.

25. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Basketball.

26. YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST INTENSE PAIN? Broken heart.

27. KETCHUP OR MUSTARD? Mustard.

28. HAMBURGER OR HOT DOGS? Hamburger... always a hamburger.

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? Autumn.

30. THE BEST PLACE THAT YOU HAVE EVER BEEN? New York City.

31. WHAT SCREEN SAVER IS ON YOUR COMPUTER RIGHT NOW? Stupid corportate logo.

32. FAVORITE FAST FOOD? Chik-fil-A and Taco Hell

33. YOUR MIDDLE NAME: Lee

so no one told you life was gonna be this way

So I'm watching Friends... how can it be so funny and so touching all within 23 minutes? This show was just genius. I'm watching the one where Joey finds the keys to the Porsche (pretty lame subplot), Phoebe, Monica, and Chandler take care of the triplets and Chandler swallows Krog's sonic blaster, and Rachel finds out that she and Ross are still married.

Phoebe: A real man wouldn't go to the hospital! Krog will make his way through your system in 7 years.
Chandler: Phoebe, that's gum.
Phoebe: I'm pretty sure it's GUN.

But then when Ross and Rachel sign their divorce papers, they talk about their relationship, and each other, and it's just so SWEET. Really great writing. They really don't make sit-coms like this anymore.

Can you believe Krysten has never seen this show?? Raise your hand if you think she needs to borrow my DVDs.

Two current reasons I love my stat-counter:

1. Someone from Israel blogger-searched "sat on me."

2. Someone yahoo-searched "Danael Broussard". The google-searched you too, Dan, and they work at Fuddrucker's in Plano. Do you have a stalker? Get me a cheeseburger.

Seriously, genius.

I went to Trader Joe's the other night for lunch stuff (I'm staying in an extended-stay hotel with a kitchen) and I got these no-yeast tortillas called Ezekial 4:9. They kind of taste like cement. Just how God intended it. Apparently.

Sorry about the length of the last post. Go brevity! Choose brevity! ~J.

It's another beautiful day in sunny Arizona.

I assume. I'm not there any more and I'm so sad. I've been meaning to blog about it for a couple of days and stupid work has been getting in the way. I mean, hello, trying to play on the internet here!!

So, many of you are probably wondering how I know Krysten. Interesting story, really. I know Krysten through the wonderful world of Webternet. That's right, folks. We found each other here. Krysten went to high school with J.T. They reunited at their 10-year reunion - a good spot for reuniting, as it was. Through the awesomeness of this trio of blogs, we read each other's comments (I'm pretty sure we first bonded over Billy Joel), posted, started e-mailing, then calling, then visiting. I never would have met her without this string of events. And I could not be more pleased.

So really, if you're reading and not commenting... you should. You never know when you'll make a new friend. :-) Shameless plug over.

SO. I flew into Phoenix last Friday. Completely foreign terrain to this East Texas girl. This was the view from my balcony (that's right, I said my balcony):

Mountains and palm trees and sunshine, oh my! Krysten had me all set up in the garage apartment with all the modern conveniences of home (but no rent!). There was a couch and full bedroom and bathroom, my own thermostat, radio/TV/wi-fi, microwave, coffee pot... and she left me a basket of lavender-scented goodies and a homemade scarf! Talk about making a girl feel welcome!

We went to Taco Bell for dinner so right away I was in love with Krysten. I also promptly fell in love with this guy:

Haha! I was tickling him and HE looks guilty. I trained him from the get-go to scream "I MISS JAMIE!!!" everytime I disappeared from sight. Yeah, I have a way with the fellas. Krysten says he's been asking for me since I left. *sniff* I wanted to take him with me but was not permitted. His favorite new catch phrase (since I laugh every time he says it) is "Wha' happen'd?".

Friday night, Krysten, Brad, Bryce and I went to Chanelle's husband's 30th birthday party. There were a TON of people, none of whom I knew, obviously, so Krysten served as my tour guide, if you will, for her peeps. We sat in the corner (with more food, obviously - if I lived with Krysten I would weight 800lbs) and she told me all the goods on everyone.

Saturday morning we all went to brunch which was great, except the waitress mistakenly put the extra avocado I requested for my breakfast quesadillas into Krysten's Italian omelette. Yep, right there alongside her sausage, peppers, onions, and marinara sauce. GROOOSSSSS!

You've all heard the story of Saturday night.... and Sunday, too. Sunday evening Brad and Krysten were generous enough to give me reign of the television, so amidst our Chinese food and copious numbers of cocktails, we watched The West Wing, Desperate Housewives, and Grey's Anatomy. We ended up staying up late with MORE cocktails (with Brad as our pusher) and talking. I believe Brad got the fuzzy end of that lollipop, as he was not only sick in the night, but the only one of us to have to go to work the next day with his hangover. Krysten and I? Well, we just got up and made some bloody marys.

Monday was pretty lazy, lotta lying around, playing with Bryce, playing on the computer, and we had a big dinner party. Krysten made baked ziti with Italian sausage and we all had ice cream for dessert (except O'Brad, poor Brad, who was still feeling bad). We ate and talked and when everyone left, we watched 24.

Tuesday morning Krysten and I went to Harlow's Cafe (yes, that Harlow) for a truly wonderful burger and I was so sad to be going to the airport!

It's amazing and wonderful to find a true friend where least expected. Krysten and Brad could not have been more hospitable to a virtual stranger in their home. Oh, and we only took one picture of the two of us, and it's kind of big-head scary:

But there it is.

Krys, I had a BLAST! Expect a fun thank-you gift in the mail shortly. *wink*

I hate that #$&*-ing tree!!!!

Oh, the glory of 24.

First, my awesome cousin Justin told me about this story involving Keifer and a ill-fated Christmas tree. And how he (Justin, not Keifer) has taken to screaming "I hate that $%&*-ing tree!!" at the screen during 24. Brilliant.

More brilliant? The fact that he (again, Justin, not Keifer) had friends over for the premiere and told them to "bring [their] peeps." One of them brought, literally, leftover Christmas Peeps - the decorate-your-own Christmas tree kind, which they all decorated with guns and CTU badges and anti-terrorism statements. I was speechless with wonder and disappointment that I missed such an event.

Today, G sent me this blog - which was pretty freaking great, except that the author refers to TONY ALMEIDA as "Jack Bauer, Jr." Oh NO he di-int!!

The best part, though, was his link to the 30 Random Jack Bauer Facts, which could not be greater. My Top 5 Favorite of the 30:

• If you wake up in the morning, it's because Jack Bauer spared your life.
• If life hands Jack Bauer lemons, he uses them to kill terrorists. Jack Bauer fucking hates lemonade.
• If Jack Bauer were in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Nina Meyers, and he had 2 bullets, he'd shoot Nina twice.
• Upon casting Keifer Sutherland as Jack Bauer, Jack killed Keifer. Jack Bauer gets played by no man.

and my favorite....

• Superman wears Jack Bauer pajamas.

HA! So, I normally am not a fan of people just blogging other people's blogs, which I realize I just totally did. Hopefully the story about Justin and the CTU peeps made it worth it.

Hey Krysten and Brad, we should start keeping a running tab of how many people Jack Bauer punches in the throat. We'll start with 2 points for the scissors. Because OH. MY. GAH.

Me.

Lately I’ve been thinking about some pretty strange things
More than I’ll admit
Like the exact moment that milk goes bad
And even then, isn't it good for something?
But not as much about why bad things happen to good folks
And age old questions,
But more about why good things happen at all
And why I don't notice them...

I should spend more time laughing at myself,
I should spend more time laughing.

You sing to me of dragons
You sing to me of businessmen-- and glorious potentiality,
And what it all has to do with me.

I’ll be the first to tell you that I never was too smart
Or I had no patience,
'Cause I never cared for science
Or studying commerce of distant nations.
But now you're teaching me of the people behind me
And how I've become them,
And of all the joys of history,
And all night fasting, and contemplation.

And how I should spend more time laughing at myself,
I should spend more time laughing.

You sing to me of dragons
You sing to me of businessmen-- and glorious potentiality,
And what it all has to do with me.

I know my prayers are common, and my words are simple and absent-minded.
But if there's one thing you've taught me
It’s of my freedom and how to find it.

You sing to me of silence,
You sing to me of bride and groom,
And beauty of a new perspective
And I see the truth reflected.

Lyrics by Derek Webb.

Show me that smile again.

A girl that I know, a friend of a friend, has a really awesome blog called Naked. She is striving to be naked in front of God and the people closest to her, to strip her life of the show we all put on to make ourselves feel (and look) better. I hope she doesn't mind my mentioning her. Since I don't know her very well, I won't link her. But I think she's done an extremely admirable job, and as someone who most often uses my blog to tell humorous, superficial stories, I'd like to be more like her.

I know a lot of people read this blog... some who know me very well and some who don't know me very well. I try to not get too personal for obvious reasons. I know I fail sometimes. But I also use this blog as an outlet and a way to communicate with my friends, and sometimes "not getting too personal" translates into "not being quite honest." I want to share with those closest to me what is going on inside of me... especially since I have not discussed it with most of you. That being said, this is as much for me as you, so if you don't know what to say, you don't have to.

Recently, a very dear friend of mine let me down. I know I've let my friends down, too. We all make mistakes. I'd like to say that I have made more than my share. But I try to be honest and I try to be a good friend. I have indeed failed. This person failed. This friend was not honest with me, which is such a slap in the face to our friendship. There are links in my life to this person and I am continuing, practically daily, to find other lies and cover-ups and flat-out deceit. Nothing hurts me worse than thinking our entire relationship was fraudulent. I have often been guilty of saying things that makes me feel better about what's going on... even until I believe it myself. So I don't blame anyone for that. But a flat-out LIE... just to feel better, just to look better, just to escape dealing with a situation that nobody would want to deal with... it hurts me. It hurts me that a person could treat my feelings so cavalierly, especially someone who knows me. It hurts me to think that I could possibly have been a horrible judge of character. It hurts me that every time I think I'm doing well, something happens that hurts me all over again. It hurts me that I continue to let it hurt me. These things haunt me. But it turns out I am not made of steel, as I once thought.

My friends are extremely important to me: my old friends and my new friends. My old friends like Sandy and Amy that have never let distance or time come between us, and no matter how long it is between pow-wows or even fights, will always be there if I need them. My new friends like Krysten, who hosted me this weekend and I will blog about soon and very soon.

This is what is going on inside my heart. I can deal with being hurt. I'm mending just fine and I am happy to move on. I wish things had been handled differently but I only have jurisdiction over myself. I am a generally cheerful person and it's really hard for me to hold grudges. Things always work out and I have absolutely no doubt they will do so again. Don't ask me to elaborate on this. I've already said more than 95% of you know. I hope no one minds the open rawness of what has been said... and just know it's what inside my head and heart and that I appreciate everyone's support and prayers.

I'm looking forward to, in just a couple of weeks, being near my support system of good people. People that I've let down, and have let me down, but continue to love me and support me when I'm up and when I'm down. Back to my church! These past several months of my being away (we will heretofor refer to my 8 months in Columbus as "the dark period") have been extremely hard on me for many reasons, but the main of which was my separation from my friends. God has asked me to lean on Him. It's been lonely. Necessary. Beautiful. I know he works through every one of you... so I can't wait to be back in that embrace.

Here's a little excerpt of the life with one of my favorite friends. One who's let me down, and who I've let down, but has been beside me since I was 17 years old. Thanks, Ev! I miss you!!

Random Person Quiz

Ummm, thanks Shelly. I think.



Which Completely Random Person Are You?!

Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting

OK, so, it's another beautiful day here in sunny Arizona. The sun shines all the time. No, seriously. The sun never stops shining.

I know you're all dying for the long awaited story of Saturday night, so here goes:

The plan was as follows: 1) Drive to Scottsdale, 2) check into hotel, 3) have an early dinner at restaurant that Jamie picked, 4) ride in scary, air-brushed limo to bar/club that Krysten picked, 5) drink excessively. Krysten even hoped that someone would 6) up on the bathroom floor. I did not quite share these particular aspirations but was fully on board with the first 5.

The plan didn't quite work out.

We drove to Scottsdale and checked into the hotel; first two steps of plan, A-OK.

Next step, Jamie's chosen restaurant, Fez. Krysten's husband had told us it was close- "well, you probably wouldn't want to walk it, but it's really easy to get to." So, we asked the front desk how to get to Central Dr. He gave us ridiculously convaluded directions that we followed for a while, then called Chanelle's husband to give up google-map help, which turned us around to drive the other direction. Twice. We finally called Fez and got directions but it turns out that there's a Central Dr. in Scottsdale and a Central Dr. in Phoenix and and Fez' Central is past the 1st street (we were at 52nd). We took a long, leisurely drive through the stripper club section of town ("Aren't you curious?"). We FI-nally got the the restaurant. The drinks and food were fantastic. SO, step 3 accomplished in a wee bit more time than we had anticipated. No biggie.

Back to the hotel, called the limo. Chanelle and I took a quick power nap.

Step 4: Scary limo ride to Sugar Daddy's... a cajun-esque bar/club that Krysten had found. They had free limo service within a 7-mile radius. Our hotel, thanks to Krysten's stellar planning skills, was 5.6 miles away from the bar. However, the limo took us about 10 miles out of the way. But it was cool, even if I accidentally landed in Chanelle's lap a coupla times.

We get to the bar. It's freezing. We wait in line. We get to the front. Jamie doesn't have her ID. Big, scary bouncer refuses to let Jamie in. Jamie tries to appeal to his good nature and assures him that she is well past the legal drinking age cut off. No dice. Krysten calls limo dude back, who says he will come get me but he's got some other people in line so it'll be a while. It's like 11:30 by this time. Jamie, Krysten, and Chanelle huddle around some trash cans to wait for him. Jamie spends the next hour imploring the other girls to go in without her, to no avail.

He comes almost an hour later. Jamie's feet are frozen. She manages to get Krysten and Chanelle to go in and she gets in the limo with the an obnoxious group of drunk, trashy 20-somethings on their way to another bar. There were 13 of them. One of them sat on me, and I getting drunk from their breath alone. They were whooping and hollering and shouting directions to the (very patient) driver who kept apologizing that I had to share my ride. It was quite possibly one of the least favorite half-hours of my life. The gang finally got out and he drove me back to the hotel. Again with the long way! By this time it was 1am and the bar closes at 2, so Jamie just gets in bed with her book.

Meanwhile, over at Sugar Daddy's....

The girls rolled in around 1:30 (apparently the limo dude went straight from dropping me off to picking them up). No one drank excessively. No one ended up on the bathroom floor. But, damn, doesn't it make a good story??

Recipe.

Today was a great day. And I can give you the recipe:

• sleep in
• lunch at the Olive Garden
• play on the computer
• start cocktails at 1pm
• watch The Muppets
• eat Rotel and chips
• have more cocktails
• play more on the computer
• order in Chinese
• have more cocktails
• Sunday night TV: The West Wing, Desperate Housewives, and Grey's Anatomy
• have more cocktails
• have a long, detailed disussion about life, love, and God
• have more cocktails

Do all this with supremely cool, generous, fun people.

Party on, Wayne. Zzzzzzzzz....

Aren't you curious?

(and ps> And yes, it's another beautiful day here in sunny Arizona.)

Welcome to the Hotel Krysten

So, it's another beautiful day here in sunny Arizona! Krysten's garage apartment is freaking awesome; I might never leave. *waves over to the big house*

I'm all set up out here: my own entrance to my own bedroom and bathroom with its own thermostat and tv and wireless internet and coffee pot. She even left me lavender bed and bath goodies INCLUDING pillow spray which I just used. This place is a haven of lavender and goodness.

The girls are hitting the town tonight... we're driving over to Scottsdale and staying in a hotel. Krysten promised to get me drunk. We'll post pictures tomorrow. *wink*

M-O-O-N, that spells done!

I just finished The Stand. All 1200 pages of it. And WOW. I loved it. Thanks to the dozens of you that recommended it to me. Can I tell you how uneasy I am that I am flying west in mere hours? Phoenix, then LAS VEGAS, which, haven't I always said that was the home of the Devil? I think that I have.

Anyway, Tom Cullen fared better than I had hoped and saved the day. Laws, yes.

Looking at the world through rose-colored glasses...

As you all know, I'm a rather rosy-tinted person. OK, I guess we can go with ruddy. I have reddish hair, reddish skin, reddish freckles... if you look at my eyes in the sunlight, they are reddish brown. It takes me all of a minute and a half to get a sunburn. I never wear blush. So, imagine my utter surprise when my dermatologist diagnosed me with vascular rosacea.

Now, doctors don't know what causes rosacea, or have a cure for it, so fat load of good they are. What she did tell me was that common triggers include heat (hot beverage, hot shower), cold weather, dry air (central AC/heat), spicy food, alcohol, and emotional stress. I was like, "hi, have you been reading my diary?" I think I invented this disease. She just ran down my daily itinerary. Oh, and also, if it gets worse and spreads into my eyes, I could go blind.

So yeah, that's cool. Or, hot.

M-O-O-N: that spells Tom Cullen!

I forgot to tell you guys that I had a dream last night that I was at a fair or a trade show of some sort, and I was running a natural food booth with Mrs. Kim and the booth across the aisle was all Texas foods and it was run by Hugh Grant, who was wearing one of those awful button-up shirts that looks like a big Texas flag and speaking with a Texas accent. Only it was just an act (he spoke to me and Mrs. Kim in his regular posh voice) because he was a spy. Or something. And, no, I didn't drink last night. My mind is just this warped.

Speaking of warped, I only have a couple hundred pages left in The Stand. I should get to the ultimate Good vs. Evil battle tonight. *shudders* I need that Walkin' Dude to go DOWN. Literally. I've already lost so many!! If something bad happens to Tom Cullen I'm going to find Stephen King's house and leave a flaming bag of poo on his doorstep.

LOST tonight!

I miss the Internet, and Random TV Thoughts.

OK, do you know how much you depend on the internet? Try living without if for a couple of days. I mean, I've checked my e-mail... but only a coupla times a day and from my parents' bedroom... and even now, as I try to blog on the antiquated iMac and 26Kbps dial-up, the only buttons that show up in this window are "check spelling" and "insert photo" so all html must be entered by hand. Including paragraph breaks. I'm so confused. How old is this browser?

So, I've been watching a lot of TV. Well, even more than usual. Here are my thoughts (unbulleted, because there's no bullet option).

Skating with Celebrities? SERIOUSLY? There's apparently no end to the horror reality tv will reach.

Right now my mom is watching Oprah and that woman whose husband disappeared on the cruise ship is battling it out on her couch with the cruise company prez, and I know everyone thinks Oprah is a saint so I'm sure I'll step on some toes by saying this: I know she does some great things and I'm not saying anything detrimental about her character, but I just don't understand why the hell people watch this crap. Seriously? This is enjoyable? This is entertainment? Seriously?!?

I've watched 14 episodes of Gilmore Girls in the past 5 days so I'm talking at the speed of light and dropping pop culture references at every turn.

Favorite quote of the week from a show I watched many weeks late: "...served on a bed of frisee, the awkward lettuce. It's like eating somebody's afro." ~Kitchen Confidential, the one with Michael Vartan in his French accent! mmmmm.

Favorite quote of the week from a show that is far too intelligent for American network TV: "I don't have a son [narrator: He does] but when I do someday, I will either tell him we have a cabin in the woods and take him there, or I will tell him we have a cabin in the woods and not take him there, but the one thing I will never do is not tell him we have a cabin in the woods and then not take him there." ~G.O.B., Arrested Development

Why the hell is Zoey Bartlet doing Exedrin Migraine and Secret commercials? Seriously? Wasn't she on Invasion for a while? This is her career now? She didn't even go to Ellie's wedding.

Tom Cavanaugh could not be any cuter, unless perhaps he was on a show with a better title than "Love Monkey." Gah!! Freakin' ADORABLE. My heart is all a-flutter.

Do I love that Nasonex Bee? Yes I do.

So, in the past few months, I've been watching pretty much everything either on tape, or downloaded onto my computer. I rarely ever see commercials, and never see "next week on" promos. I've decided that I like it that way! It really makes my viewing more pleasing going into it completely blind. Honestly... I didn't do it on purpose but this week after introducing the promos back into my viewing, I can honestly say it's more fun to not know or see or hear anything.

There she goes, off to her room to write her hit song "Alone in Her Principles."

Back to civilization Friday. And I'm never living here again! Yay!

"I need you to trust me."

24 tonight!!

Now, let's see, we've had assassination attempts, b-o-m-b-s, viruses, and nuclear weapons... what next? Anonymous Kiefer and something to do with Russia. Only fair, since we've already gone up against our own (various groups that always seem to involve Mandy... lesbian Mandy, naked Mandy, scary hand virus Mandy, innocent neighbor killer Mandy), Three Unnamed Middle Eastern Countries (...Isn'trael), a Latin-based drug cartel with Filipo Hartmano, China, and well, all the Muslims in L.A. Spawn of Kiefer and D.O.D-er are returning, as is everyone's favorite unpleasant computer analyst, AND a love interest for her, and they're bringing on Jean Smart as Lady Palmer 2.0!! Wheee!

I'm praying for a safe and multi-episode return of Tony "I'm currently unemployed" Almeida, myself.

ETA: Tomorrow my computer goes to the butcher. *sobs* It's already (remotely) lost Firefox, Limewire, and Bittorent; when I get it back on Thursday I will have likely lost PowerDVD, iTunes, and quite possibly IM. So, if you never see me online again... It's the end of the world as we know it. It's been lovely. Au revoir!

Do you smell what I smell?

"Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across ... all the years you have lived." ~Helen Keller

They say that the sense of smell is the sense which is most closely connected to your memory.

You know how everyone has their own unique scent? I, for example, smell like Lever 2000, lavender oil, and Forever by Alfred Sung. My hair smells like Pantene, Bumble & Bumble, Tigi, and Suave. My clothes smell like Tide and Bounce. (Wow, it takes a lot of products to smell this good!) The blend of all these scents reacts with Jamie's own pH and pheromones to make the unique scent that keeps the fellas a-comin'. Or you know, whatever.

Now, you guys know I am no stranger to crazy dreams. You know how you have those incredibly vivid ones where you wake up mad at someone, or enamored with someone, or something like that? The kind that discombobulate you up for the whole next day? Well, last night I had one of those dreams about a certain someone from my past (no not you, you egomaniac!). And no, it wasn't one of those kind of dreams, but the Dream Me was hanging out with the Dream Him and I kept noticing the way he smelled, and how long it had been since I had smelled that particular scent, and when I woke up, I was absolutely certain I had been in his company. It was so WEIRD. I'm still kinda creeped out.

And on another topic: How out of shape can one person possibly be? A: I played darts with Brian the other night, and now my right arm hurts.

"One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well."

I sat on the little stone wall on the beach tonight and just watched the ocean. There was an almost-full moon and a lot of roving clouds, and honest-to-God, the moon shines down on the sea like a spotlight. It doesn't disperse at all. It's so creepy and awe-inspiring. I was wishing I had my camera but even if I did I would have never been able to capture the essence of what I was looking at. The sea was restless tonight; it's been threatening to rain all day. The tide was coming in angles and about 12' from my Chucks. Perhaps I'm romanticizing the ocean... but I just don't think I could ever get used to living next to it. It's like you're on the edge of the world! I know it sounds cheesy, but I was sitting there thinking about when the first ones of our kind took to the ocean, just to see what they could find... they must have honestly spent months not knowing if they would ever see land again. It's just so big and amazing and scary and wonderful. Watching the tide is intoxicating for me.

I went back to the Greek place tonight, aforementioned as my favorite restaurant in America. Mmmmm. I took The Stand, and sat at the bar, and has some seriously amazing food, as always. I chatted with the Greek bartenders a little. I love that place. I swear everyone that works there is related. I asked one of them about what kind of peppers they use in their tyrokafteri (because as you all know, I loathe peppers, but this stuff is addictive) and she told me that her husband grew them in their backyard! Awesome! I think I eventually got from her that they might be habaneros.

I really love to people-watch, but eating alone at a crowded, popular restaurant on a Friday night takes its own special prize. I sat at the end of the bar, next to a man who possibly spent every day of his last 70 years on the Florida beach. He was tan, weathered, and freckled, with pure white hair and crinkly eyes, and a ball cap. He had lamb with mint jelly and red wine (left the green beans on his plate, natch). When he left he made a point to lean over my book and ask me to have a wonderful weekend. After he left I was probably the only single person party in the place. Families, groups of friends, couples, many of them Greek and all of them boisterous were crammed in that little restaurant like sardines, and having a marvelous time. The line was never less than 20 people long while I was there. The waiters and bartenders seemed to know everyone. I swear I was the only tourist in the whole restaurant. I would have loved to have been sharing my food with a friend (since 82.3% of enjoying something is sharing it) but I got such a unique perspective getting to only observe and not comment. I had a lovely time. I got a baklava to go and let someone have my chair.

Technology: the Double-Edged Sword

Well, this is just the worst thing ever. I've probably told some of you that my company keeps our laptops locked down. I, fortunately, have the admin password, so when I want to download something I shouldn't have, I just go in that way and do it. Cool, right?

Well, today, I was downloading a digital camera with some freight pictures on it - FOR WORK - and my computer crashed. I couldn't even log back into my machine. I had to call MIS, who took EVERYTHING OFF. I lost LimeWire, BitTorrent, BitComet, DivX, FireFox (and all my bookmarks) -- everything. As if that wasn't bad enough, I still can't log on to the network (I'm just signed in locally right now), so I have to send it back this week for a tune-up. And I know for a fact that the admin password I've been using is no longer valid on the computers that have been sent in in the last few months. So that means when I get it back, I won't be able to download anything ever again.

No more TV shows. No more Firefox. I more than likely won't even be able to upgrade my Messengers or iTunes when they come out with updates. Everything looks wrong, and all my preferences are gone, so it keeps saying things like "Do you want me to remember this password?" and "Look! I'm minimizing this application but not closing it!"

*sobs*

The Great Diet Sprite Caper, and How to be an Awesome Friend

That's right, it's two for the price of one here at No Day but Today.

So, first of all, I worked 13 hours today. I know one feels sorry for me, since I just had ohhhh, almost a month off, so I'll just pass the pity party up and say that I was mucho excited to come back to Ye Olde Bahia Mar for some room service and LOST - the first new one since friggin' Thanksgiving.

I get home, drop off my backpack, turn off the AC and throw open my balcony door, take a few deep intoxicating breaths of salty sea air, grab some $1 bills, my ice bucket, and my room key, and head over to the 4th floor vending machines to get myself some ice and a Diet Sprite. See, I had noticed earlier that the vending machine carried Diet Sprite, which is a bit of a rarity, so I wanted to take advantage. Buuut, it was not meant to be, as the 4th floor soda machine was not taking bills.

Not to be daunted, I go back to my room to get quarters. Alas, I do not have enough change ('cause you know, at hotels, a can of soda costs $1.25). Still undaunted, I search carefully through my wallet for the two newest, crispest bills I have (and by the way, is it normal for a person's wallet to contain 13 $1 bills? I didn't think so either. No stripper jokes.) and go back to the vending machine. Still, no dice. So, I head to the 5th floor. Yay, it takes my dollars! I'm all happy, and I press the Diet Sprite button, and it gives me a Diet Coke with Lime. Now, I love Diet Coke with Lime, but it's 8pm and I haven't slept well in I don't know... a month? so I really just wanted a caffeine-free beverage. Plus, now I was on a mission. I would not be outdone by my quest for a Diet Sprite. I go back to the 4th floor for more money, and then onward and upward to the 6th floor. Keep in mind that this hotel has 18 floors, and 2 elevators, so this is not a quick endeavor. The 6th floor? No Diet Sprite button. I contemplated pushing the Diet Coke button and seeing if a Diet Sprite would come out, but figured that wasn't good logic for a person who was still only carrying 2 $1 bills and needed 5/8 of that money for the Diet Sprite which was literally consuming every fiber of my being. 7th floor. JACKPOT. By then, I was really wishing I had more money with me, so I could get two. But, I didn't. So I didn't. And in case you're wondering, I'm drinking that Diet Sprite right now. And enjoying it to its fullest capacity (or as much as someone can enjoy a calorie-free, caffeine-free beverage).

Can anyone believe that I made a Diet Sprite story last that long? Yeah, I'm just that good.

OK, so, next story. How to be an Awesome Friend, by Danael Broussard. Today, I get back to the hotel and throw down my backpack and well, you already know that part of the story. Well, I have a message from the bellstand saying I have a Fed Ex. I call them, they bring it to me. I assume it's work, right? Nope. It's from Bruce, who I haven't seen since August, who knew I was coming to Ft. Lauderdale (and had asked me what hotel I was staying at, since he comes here all the time for work and is familiar with the area). "Jamie, what was inside the package?" you ask? I'll tell you, dear reader.

Two PayDay candy bars.

That's all. No note. He just overnighted me two PayDay bars. Why? Because Bruce and I spent the summer of 1997 together in North Carolina. I had recently found out I was allergic to chocolate, and a ton of other things, and was in the midst of changing my diet, and everyone knows that the best non-chocolate candy bar in the world is a PayDay. So, at the time, I was still young and thin and eating candy bars all the damn time, and was in full-on PayDay obsession. There was also this one time that we were poor and starving and went searching through the floors of my 1988 Buick Park Avenue (puse, oh baby) for loose change and found EXACTLY the right amount to get 2 candy bars and 2 Sam's Choice sodas. It was our dinner that night. We were sad, no? But then there was this incident with the soda machine that was perhaps one of the funniest things to ever happen to me, ever... I'll let Bruce post about it, but laughed so hard I think I honestly might have peed my pants a little. I'm certain at the very least, I fell to the ground and actually rolled on it, yes, at Wal-Mart.

Anyway, the point is this: Bruce remembered for the past 9 years that I love PayDays. He thought about me when he was at the store and picked up a couple, and then paid to overnight them to me in Florida. How freaking thoughtful is that? I mean, isn't that what friendship is all about? Paying attention, being thoughtful? I think it's a big part.

By the power vested in me, I hereby designate January 11 as Official Danael Broussard Day. I'm even dressed as him, in honor, like we did that one Halloween when we were late to a party and went as each other. Yep: khakis, a tee-shirt, sneakers, and glasses. That's the Bruce Uniform. I wear it with pride.

Thanks Bruce!! You're the best!

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

So, today was an "fair to middlin'" travel day (I'm getting back to my Texas roots). I took one of those huge planes, with the middle seats, from Atlanta to Ft. Lauderdale, and fell asleep while reading The Stand, and proceeded to have some pretty disturbing dreams, with the Walkin' Dude and yes, Scott, I get your allusion to the black woman in Colorado now, and then I woke up to a hand gripping my shoulder. The poor guy was just trying to tell me that we were landing. I almost screamed but I think I managed to just GASP at him. How embarrassing. That's what a night of 4 hours of fitful sleep will get you. I think Stephen King is not good for my chronic insomnia problem.

ANYway, I got to Ft. Lauderdale, and went to pick up my rental car. Now, I'm an "express member" with Dollar, meaning I don't wait in line, I just walk in, see my name on the little electronic board, and proceed directly to my parking space. Pretty sweet, huh? Huh? Except, here in Ft. Lauderdale, there wasn't an electronic board with names on it, so I just got in line. The nice gentleman told me I didn't have to, and to proceed directly to parking space F2. Then he stopped me and said "Oh, Ma'am? We ran out of economy cars, so I upgraded you at no charge." I was like "SWEET!" But... guess what car I got??

A CLOWN CAR.

That's right. It's a clown car. In Electric Blue. And you know how I'm petrified of clowns. The best part of this story is this: tonight, I went to eat at one of my top 5 favorite restaurants in the U.S. of A. After I'm full of awesome food and awesome wine and awesome company, and I drive my clown car back to the hotel and decide to take a walk on the beach. While I'm admiring the white breaks of the waves and remembering how the ocean never neglects to make me feel insignificant, I decide to call Krysten... she had a tough weekend and I thought our oceanfront-property-in-Arizona gal would like to hear the actual ocean. So, I let her hear the ocean, and we're chatting, and I say... "hey, guess what, when I went to pick up my rental car today, they said they were out of economies and that they upgraded me for no additional charge," to which she replied "YOU GOT A PT CRUISER!!?!"

I almost fell over from laughing (or, maybe it was the stilettos in the sand). How the hell? Yep, same thing happened to her. Apparently there are enough PT Cruisers to go around. Shocker.

So, today I worked today for the first time since Dec. 15, and I must confess to forgetting how to do some things. Work, frankly, is for the birds. Being a grown-up just... blows. Can I get a do-over?

Something I was thinking about today: Over Thanksgiving, I stopped at the drugstore in Houston. I went inside to grab something. It was late... after 9pm. The lady who checked me out was probably about my age, although she looked 10 years older. She was hunched over and never really looked me in the eye, and she seemed pleased and embarrassed when I asked how she was doing and actually waited for her to answer. She still never looked up from her slump, but she did tell me that she liked my coat... and I was just... overcome with sadness for this girl. She was just... SAD. (I totally speculate of course, maybe she is a brilliantly happy and shy person, and who am I to judge?) I couldn't help but think about her life... the night shift at Walgreen's... how many people ask her how her night is going? And of those, how many care to hear the answer? We talked for a minute about my pink coat, and how there's a reason people wear black coats (the coffee stains on my sleeve) and I didn't really learn anything about her, but I haven't forgotten her. Her name was Eileen.

Anyway, I was thinking about her tonight, because I encounter "her" all the time, all over the country, in various positions in the service industry. I, too, work in the service industry. How many people a day care to ask me how my day is going? The answer, sadly, is few... and fewer still that wait for an answer.

So, today, ask someone how his/her day is going. Mean it, and wait for the answer. It could really make a difference in someone's day.

Viva la vie boheme!

So, I'm reading this book called Bohemian Manifesto: A Field Guide to Living on the Edge. (I must confess to adoring book titles that have a colon and a further explanation. I don't know why; it just seems so very wittily matter-of-fact.) It's a light, fluffy, prettily illustrated little book that identifies and describes the five classifications of Bohemians (Noveau, Gypsy, Beat, Zen, and Dandy, if you're interested), as well as examining their vanities, poetry, art, and lifestyle. My mom saw me reading it, and said she didn't think I needed any help being a Bohemian, and I was like "Mom, it's not like I'm Jack Kerouac, and anyway, it's not a textbook" to which she responded "I don't even know what that means." We then got into a debate about how she could have a degree in literature and not know that the beat poets were an extremely formative genre of American literature and she retorted that she got her degree in the 70s. I tried to tell her how Bohemian art can be studied back into the 1800s and hadn't she studied freaking Hemingway? and anyway, Kerouac and his band of beat poets dominated American literature in the late 50s-60s, and well, it was just pretty much ridiculous one-sided conversation. I think I ended with "Holden Caulfield woulda loved Kerouac!"

The point is, that I'm far too practical and materialistic to ever be a true Bohemian, but I do sincerely admire their rich, irreverant way of living beyond convention, and their uninhibited, rumpled devotion to ideals and dreams, art and poetry, love and decadence.

Anyway, that being said, I've barely listened to anything else since I got the soundtrack to Rent (ibym "got"... "bought for Julia for Christmas and then immediately ripped to my iPod"). I absolutely cannot the following lyrics out of my head:

To days of inspiration
Playing hookie,
Making something out of nothing,
The need to express, to communicate
To going against the grain,
Going insane,
Going mad...

To loving tension, not pension
To more than one dimension,
To starving for attention,
Hating convention, hating pretension,
Not to mention (of course)
Hating dear old Mom & Dad...

To riding your bike midday past the three-piece suits,
To fruits!
To no absolutes!
To Absolut!
To choice!
To The Village Voice!
To any passing fad....
To being an "us" for once, instead of a "Them"...

La vie boheme!

It's so Gen-X and cheesy, but it strikes a chord somewhere inside me, the part that was so completely at home in New York City, the part that loves taking trips to nowhere, the part that is ecstatic to sit on the floor with a glass of wine, a candle, and a Tom Robbins book. The part of me that doesn't turn on the TV for a week and finds elation in talking to a stranger with a dog for hours in a coffee shop. It's not all of me, but it's a bit of me, and hearing those lyrics always makes me hopeful, whether I'm really happy or not. I think we could all stand to be a little more Bohemian in nature.

"Who am I? I'm a poet. My business? Writing.
How do I live? I live.
In my happy poverty I squander like a prince,
my poems and songs of love.
In hopes and dreams and castles-in-air,
I'm a millionaire in spirit."
~Rodolfo, La Boheme

a little housekeeping

It has come to my attention that some of you have tried to sign up for my blog notifications on NotifyList.com and nothing happened. I believe that I have corrected the problem, so if you signed up and never received a confirmation e-mail, please try again.

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The link will also continue to be on the sidebar to the left. Those of you on the list from the old Diaryland days should still be signed up..

Sorry for the confusion; I'm so glad to have you reading! Thanks, J.

"I do not regret the things I have done, but those I did not do."

Tom, that title quote's for you!

From Krysten's blog... Looks like I've done most of these things except the misdemeanors, felonies, and you know, having braces. In fact, I've done most them today. No day but today, baby. *weg*:

(x) crashed a friend's car (a better term is "scuffed")
(x) stolen a car (ibym "stolen"... "borrowing without asking"? yes. Grand theft auto? Not so much.)
(x) been in love
(x) been dumped
(x) shoplifted
(x) been fired
(x) been in a fist fight (do my siblings count?)
(x) smoked a cigarette
(x) snuck out of your parent's house
(x) had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) been arrested (although I have picked up someone from jail)
(x) gone on a blind date
(x) lied to a friend
(x) skipped school
( ) seen someone die
(x) been to Canada
(x) been to Mexico
(x) been on a plane
(x) purposely set a part of yourself on fire (only my hair. I'm not Krysten. *wink*)
(x) eaten sushi
(x) been skiing - water and snow
(x) met someone from the internet
(x) been at a concert
(x) taken painkillers
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
(x) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
(x) made a snow angel
(x) had a tea party
(x) flown a kite
(x) built a sand castle
(x) gone puddle jumping
(x) played dress up
(x) jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) gone sledding
(x) cheated while playing a game
(x) been lonely
(x) fallen asleep at work/school
(x) used a fake ID
( ) gotten kicked out of a club/bar
(x) watched the sunset
( ) felt an earthquake (may be sadistic, but I've always wanted to!)
(x) slept beneath the stars
(x) been tickled
(x) been robbed
(x) been misunderstood (probably right this very minute)
(x) petted a reindeer/goat/kangaroo
(x) won a contest
(x) run a red light/stop sign
( ) been suspended from school
(x) been in a car crash
( ) had braces
(x) felt like an outcast/third person
(x) eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
(x) had deja vu
(x) danced in the moonlight
(x) liked the way you looked
(x) witnessed a crime
(x) questioned your heart
(x) been obsessed with post-it notes
(x) squished mud through your bare feet
(x) been lost
(x) been on the opposite side of the country
(x) swam in the ocean
(x) felt like dying
(x) cried yourself to sleep
(x) played cops and robbers
(x) recently colored with crayons
(x) sang karaoke
(x) paid for a meal with only coins
(x) done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(x) made prank phone calls
(x) laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose (and once, red hots)
(x) caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) played in the rain
(x) written a letter to Santa Claus (and had it printed in the newspaper! If I remember correctly, I told Santa at which store to find my requested toys)
(x) been kissed under the mistletoe
(x) watched the sun rise with someone you care about
(x) blown bubbles
(x) made a bonfire on the beach
(x) crashed a party
(x) gone roller-skating
(x) had a wish come true
( ) jumped off a bridge

Texas, our Texas, all hail our mighty state!

So, the deal is pretty much done. I have signed a lease and I have written a check, and I will be an actual resident of Dallas, TX by February 8, 2006, assuming she doesn't rent out my apartment before she gets this envelope in the mail. Can you believe I went to Texas without my checkbook? Doh. My place is adorable, very Melrose Place but without the pool, or the greed, lust, betrayal, and wigs. Well, as far as I know, anyway. It's at Abbott and Knox, meaning, hello, I can WALK to Wild about Harry's!!

For all you that have been part of my nursing school dialogue, I am planning on signing up for my 5 pre-requisitite classes (damn you, B.A.!!) online and keeping my current job until I can apply for TCU's fast-track BSN program that starts May 2007. If all goes according to plan, I'll be an RN/BSN by August 2008 and will be able to pursue my MSN while working. I feel so grown-up; I have a plan that lasts further out than you know, next month. *wink*

Where IS everyone? I have multiple posts with no comments and my blog is sad.

Oh, and I'm MOVING BACK TO TEXAS!!!!!!!!!!!

So long, farewell.

Today was another great day here in the great state o' Texas. I found an unbelievably AMAZING apartment (which unfortunately means I need to make some serious decisions really quickly- anyone want to be my life coach?) and hung out with Jules... had the most amazing steak dinner with the girls, and saw Memoirs of a Geisha. I read the book when it came out, at least 6-7 years ago, and I remember it being such a gripping story. The movie was wonderful although I think the ending was a lot neater and happier than I remember it; I should read it again. But truly, the film is breathtaking. Michelle Yeoh has to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. Oh, and Sandy got me a creme brulee torch and ramekins. Heee!

Going back to Ohio tomorrow. Have a doctor's appt. on Thursday to see about some more basal cell carcinomas, so please keep that in your thoughts and prayers. Other than that, Mom and I are planning on watching the entire 5th season of The Gilmore Girls on DVD. I leave for Ft. Lauderdale next Tuesday.

Ugh... work.

We gather together.

I had the greatest day today. It started with an everything bagel with chive cream cheese from Einstein Brothers. As if that wasn't enough!! I hung out with my darling cousin all day, got a bunch of things done, met Amy for Tex-Mex (seriously, how do the other 49 states live without this stuff?) and then had drinks at Trinity Hall, an Irish pub, with possibly my favorite 9 people on the planet. I was missing Sandy and Angela, but Scott, Kathryn, Amy, Ryan, Taylor, Carrie, Madison, Dave, Julia, and I all crowded around a table for 4 and man... I just don't have words. Except I do, and they are: my friends are awesome. Truly remarkable people. I am so lucky!! Next time I gripe about the lack of love in my life... point me back to these people.

Now, I know I do a lot of talk on this blog about The West Wing. I'm immersed in Season 2 right now, and just watched "Shibboleth." Let's talk some unbelievably amazing writing. WOW. Funny, touching, meaningful, all in the right places. When Sam and Toby banter about the Thanksgiving Proclomation and Josh is flipping the coin? Hilarious. The scene between Bartlet and the Chinese Christian refugee? It was just... beautiful. I wish I could find the quote for you. And when POTUS gives Charlie the carving knife? Man, I lose it every time. *sniff*

I believe this episode was nominated for and won the Emmy for Outstanding Writing in a Dramatic Series. If it didn't, it damn well should have.

Kong!!!!

So, I went to see King Kong tonight. And I saw it on the largest screen in Texas, to boot. (See what I did there? To boot? 'Cause I'm in Texas? Get it? GET IT??) The movie was enjoyable. The experience was not. First of all, about 40 minutes into the show, the lights in the theater came on. Not the dim wall sconces either. The florescents in the ceiling. All up. For like 10 minutes. That was a little distracting. But it was nothing compared to the children in the theater. There was a toddler to our right that talked to her mom and dad through the entire movie, and was never shushed or asked to lower her voice. There was a 2-year old to the left of us that commenced to run up and down her row and scream, yes, scream for most of the island part of the movie (and who can blame her, honestly? That place is part Craphole Island, and part Jurassic Park, with a little Temple of Doom thrown in. I'm almost 30 and had a hard time with the giant bug scenes. I mean, seriously. If you're not going to think about the other people who paid to see the movie, which you should, you can at the very least think about the fact that the movie might be inappropriate for your child. Plus, ever heard of bedtime?). There was a group of 4 or 5 children under the age of 10 that were sitting in the back left corner with no adult supervision whatsoever. It was absolutely maddening.

Also, when we left the theater, it turned out that we were parked by the family belonging to the running/screaming 2-year old. And if you think maybe they can't afford a babysitter, you should see the Lincoln Navigator they drive. And if you think they don't neglect the proper care of their child, you should see the puppy that they left in the car through the 3+ hour movie they just saw. Yeah. I was livid.

Other than that... the movie was fun. It has a great cast that includes The Pianist, an all growed-up Billy Elliot, a non-slapstick Jack Black and a lovely Naomi Watts, who unfortunately had barely more to do that look searchingly into the camera. Well, sometimes she screamed.

Back to my relatively quiet West Wing marathon. I have to say, for the record, that In the Shadow of Two Gunmen, Parts I & II are two of the most moving episodes in the entire series. And also, bring back Ainsley Hayes, if just for dialogue like this:

Ainsley: I'd like to do well on this, my first assignment. Any advice you could give me that might point me the way of success would be, by me, appreciated.
Lionel: Well, not speaking in iambic pentameter might be a step in the right direction.

and this:

Ainsley: [regarding the ERA] It's humiliating! A new ammendment we vote on declaring that I am equal under the law to a man? I am mortified to discover there is reason to believe I wasn't before. I am a citizen of this country; I am not a special subset in need of your protection. I do not have to have my rights handed down to me by a bunch of old white men. The same article fourteen that protects you, protects me, and I went to law school just to make sure.

and this:

Sam: I'm going to register with Republican party. And I'll tell you why, if you're curious. It's because they're a freedom-loving people.
Ainsley: We also like beef.

Ok, I'll stop now, because we all know how quoting The West Wing can get out of control.