Do you all have as many problems figuring out what to get people for Christmas as I do? Why should trying to figure out what to buy the people you love produce an ulcer?!! I'm SO damn easy to buy for. I'm a label whore, so anything with Kenneth Cole in the collar makes me pee my pants. I'll send y'all sizes upon request. Cologne? I have more cologne then a french whore. Gift certificates? Sanctioned by God himself.
Why can't it just be easy like when we were kids? Pretty much everything my mother and father threw at me on Christmas morning was loved and cherished. Until we decided that playing with the boxes, bows and wrapping paper was a LOT more fun. I'm sure our parents were thrilled that they spent all this money for gifts and we preferred to sit inside of a huge box, covering ourselves up with wrapping paper.
It didn't take much to entertain us. We're from a small town in Nebraska, so what do you expect?
Anything I bought them was, well usually thrown in a drawer or a closet, but that's beside the point. It was the thought that counts. They at least acted like they loved what their 10 year old bought them.
My parents knew I was going to be an artist from early on. When asked what I wanted for Christmas, I always said a paint set, pencils and paper, modeling clay or even a macrame' how-to book. Don't laugh. It was the 70's. I'm remember one year, everyone getting an Owl wall-hanging. They were thrilled when they were able to throw them in the trash a few years later, I'm sure.
I didn't want toy trucks, erector (heehee) sets, race cars or a G.I Joe action figure. No you bitches, I didn't want a Barbie complete with town home and pink Corvette either. Not that I would have complained. I was just too terrified to ask for one. I preferred to create my own fun rather then play with something that someone else created. Call me a picky child.
As I grew up, my mother found it more and more difficult buying me gifts. I usually ended up returning all the clothes she thought I would like. She often had trouble realizing her baby was growing up and didn't like the same things he did as a youth. The teenager was hard to please. Eventually, my mother would just take me shopping. I'd pick out things I liked and she would go back later to pick and choose.
Today? My mother buys me a bottle of cologne and a gift certificate to a major department store. It's been the same every year for the past 15 years. It's just easier that way. The same goes for her. Same bottle of perfume, a piece of jewelry or scarf. She's a simple woman.
Has the fun of buying Christmas gifts just flown out the window?
When I was a poor college and graduate student, I had no problem. I was blowing glass, drawing, printing, painting and making pottery. You can guess that pretty much every one in my family or close friends received artwork. I always felt kind of funny giving them something like that, but people seemed to appreciate something made by me instead. I'm sure they're just waiting for me to kick the bucket so the price of my artwork will skyrocket. They'll sell everything and make millions. Bastards.
Maybe I should get back to that tradition.
It might bring back some of the fun and joy in holiday gift giving.
It use to be easy. I knew exactly what to buy someone. Unless people physically show or tell me what they want I draw a complete blank as I stand there in the mall with my finger up my nose.
Again, contact me for sizes and the nearest Kenneth Cole store located near YOU!
As for tomorrow.........I shop.
Ugh, where to start.
I'm pooped.
That pretty much sums it up I think. Holidays or vacations are a time for rest and relaxation and that usually is the last thing that is accomplished.
First off, let me say that I have NO pictures that were taken for the past four days. It seems this dumbass left his manpurse at work which had his camera in it. I tried to retrieve it, but they've turned off all key card access to our buildings during holidays. Bastards. Luckily, I used G's camera and was able to take a few during dinner.
Our slumber party on Wednesday night was a success. If success can be measured in how fucked up you can get. I wasn't the only one. Not a sober person in the whole house. Last thing I remember before passing out upstairs was having a good friend of ours whip out his pee pee and show us his new prince albert piercing. Not once, but twice. Given the circumstances, we could have coerced him to show it to us ten more times. He was so proud.
Thursday while recovering (which means sipping Mimosa's), we ate breakfast, then started preparing Turkeys. I had to keep leaving the kitchen ever so often. Seeing the carcass sitting on the counter as they poked, prodded and tied up the poor thing (sounds like a recent night with Brian) was a bit much for me to handle. I usually left the house once they started hacking the thing to death after it was cooked. We've never put together such a relaxed, smoothly ran Dinner. I guess after years of doing this, we've finally got it right. I'm guessing we had about 15 for dinner with a few stragglers. It wasn't long after we finished and another 10-15 people showed up to party.
Like a good host......we joined in.
Friday was a day of recovery. Not much to tell unless you want to know how warm and snuggly I was lying naked under the blankets watching every movie known to man.
Saturday Brian begged and pleaded for me to come to his parents house to see him. To appease my adoring husband, I hoped in the car and drove almost 5 hours to spend the night with him and his mother. The highlight of my little trip? Brian treated me to Taco Villa. I made the mistake of looking at the meat, which is a habit of mine. It looked like catfood. Smelled like it too. I forced half my food down as I watched him gobble his up.
My baby sure knows how to wine and dine me.
After trying to have sex without making a sound.....twice (it's almost impossible for me. Not that I'm a screamer or anything), we got up Sunday morning, ran around town, ate some lunch and then I had to head back for my long drive home. I'm the only fucking person on the planet that could get lost driving back into my own damn city. The highlight of the trip home was when some dickhead's shit in the back of his pickup flew out onto oncoming traffic, causing 20 cars to slam on their breaks, swerve and slide all over the interstate. Did I mention it was raining cats and dogs? I'm lucky to be in one piece this morning.
Getting to see him before he headed back to California was so worth it.
Now I'm back at work for some rest and relaxation.
P.S. The Sebastian (Holding the Man) thing was a hoax elaborately put on by someone who hacked into his blogger site while he was away. It seems that he and the rest of us fell victim to someones childish games. I feel sorry for the guy. Just sickens me how friends blogs have been violated in recent months. I'm just amazed at some bloggers reactions and how one particular blogger was pretty demanding on how I handle the situation on my OWN blog. I'm just glad that Sebastian is ok. That's all that matters to me.
I'm still amazed at how everyone, thinking something tragic happened to one of our own, bonded together. Pretty amazing.
Our slumber party was a success last night. Not much slumbering was going on that's for sure. Mainly, a bunch of drunk queens until the wee hours of the morning.
Nothing like a couple glasses of Mimosa's to get your morning started.
Off to make another cocktail.
I thought pics of our duplex might get everyone into the holiday spirit. I don't separate this time of year into Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. It's just one Holiday Season to me. I finally finished decorating late last night. I know. It looks like the Christmas Fairy (namely, ME!) came in and vomited up Christmas.
Sad thing, is that I didn't use about two huge boxes of decorations. I was still complaining that I needed to go out and buy more. I have a sickness. Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and cozy?
We kick things off with our annual Thanksgiving Slumber Party. Close friends, alcohol, food and movies. I remember two years ago, we were sitting around giving each other highlights and manicures. I had to pass on the highlights. I just need not to drink so much this year.
I'll be around this coming Friday with pics from the past couple days. With all the things going on around us, please take time out, enjoy your friends and/or family. Call a few fellow blogger friends and tell them you love 'em.
Go out and buy a tree!
It's official. I'm in the holiday mood....
Ho Ho Ho!
*ducks*
Ever since I moved to Dallas over 9 years ago, numerous women have been charged over the years for brutally killing their children. I would sit there in amazement watching the local news, that someone could do some of the things these women did to their own children. Why so many in Texas? WHY the surrounding suburbs of Dallas?
Darlie Routier of Dallas stabbed her three children and faked the crime scene in 1996. She blamed it an attacker who came into her home. She claims her innocence until this day.
Andrea Yates drowns all of her five children back in 2001. Andrea filled the tub with water and beginning with Paul, she systematically drowned the three youngest boys, then placed them on her bed and covered them. Mary was left floating in the tub. The last child alive was the first born, seven-year-old Noah. He asked his mother what was wrong with Mary, then turned and ran away. Andrea caught up with him and as he screamed, she dragged him and forced him into the tub next to Mary's floating body. He fought desperately, coming up for air twice, but Andrea held him down until he was dead. Leaving Noah in the tub, she brought Mary to the bed and laid her in the arms of her brothers.
Deanna Laney takes two of her children out the back of her house and kills them by hitting them over the head with a rock back in 2003. The baby was found wounded in his crib. She claimed God told her to do it.
Yesterday, Dena Schlosser, a Plano woman cut off her babies arms due to postpartum depression. Baby died shortly there after. She was treated for psychotic episodes back in January. Child Protective Services claimed that she was no threat to her children after an extensive evaluation. Obviously, they were wrong.
I have a tender spot in my heart for children. It's obvious none of these women were in their right mind. I still just can't understand how someone can do this, especially to an innocent child.
My heart aches.
We make people take test to get a drivers license.
Maybe we should make people acquire a license to be a parent.
I didn't even mention the brutal murders that have happened in Dallas which didn't involve a child. The woman who hit a homeless person last year. He was wedged in the windshield of her car. She parks the car in the garage and goes inside to continue partying with her boyfriend. Or the man who recently threw his girlfriend off a viaduct because they were having an argument.
I just don't understand.
I had a pretty uneventful weekend. Hanging out at home on a Friday night watching TV. Eating lunch and taking in a movie with a buddy of mine on Saturday. Downing a few cocktails with friends Saturday night. In between all the bone tingling excitement, I put up enough Christmas decorations to make even Santa throw up.
The one bit of excitment I did have this weekend? Driving down Lemmon Avenue, I glanced off to the right, I saw two Mormon boys peddling away down the street. Black pants, crisp white shirts, ties and their backpacks. Both adorable as hell. The lead biker was....hot enough to make me want to turn Mormon. Ok, well maybe not, but there's just something about cute innocent Mormon boys on their bikes. Don't tell me they're not innocent. It will ruin my fantasy.
*sigh* I'm so going to hell.
It reminded me of when I was living back home, hanging out with my best friend G. G was like a brother to me. We were inseparable. Wherever you saw one of us, the other wasn't that far behind.
One afternoon while we were hanging out at his place working in the yard, two guys peddle past us on their bikes. He asked me who they were and why anyone would be biking around in a shirt and tie. I mentioned that they were Mormons doing their missionary service. I told him what little I knew about their faith. G was intrigued. When they peddled past us again, G asked them over. Before I knew it, he had invited them in. They came in, sat down and G offered them something to drink. They said no alcohol and nothing with caffeine. All G had was coke. They both looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and said, OK! As they sat there sipping their coke, they couldn't take their eyes of the TV. From what I understand (although things might have changed) they weren't allowed to watch TV or listen to the radio. They could only get their news from a newspaper. I sat there the whole time thinking that we're corrupting these poor boys. I was thinking many other things too.
After a couple hours of chatting, the boys had to go. G told them to stop by anytime they wanted. Just to hang out. I thought that it would be the last would see of them. It wasn't. They came to visit daily to watch TV, listen to music and have a coke with their new found buddies for the next two weeks.
Eventually, they told us they had to continue on with their missionary work. They never once tried to convert us, hand us a pamphlet or talk to us about their faith. They just wanted someone to talk to and hang out with.
Maybe I should get a bike and put Brian in a white shirt, black pants and a tie the next time he's home.
I don't think we would ever leave the house.
Mormon fantasies. I really AM going to hell.
It seems having one blog just isn't enough.
I'm constantly coming across funny articles, interesting news clips, meme's, jokes, pictures...you name it. I've never liked publishing them to my weblog, so I've decided to start a 2nd blog.
Welcome to Itchycoo Park.
A place where the peace and love generation can gather to be entertained.
Huge thanks, hugs and kisses to Dennis for putting this together within hours.
Enjoy!
Yes, I'm 39 years old and I still get homesick. It only happens during this time of year. The holiday season.
I talk to my mother and the rest of my family throughout the week. Emails between me and my nieces and nephews fly back and forth talking about our holiday plans and when I'm coming home. They're telling me about the Fall Round Up Parade, the football games, getting ready for Thanksgiving, Christmas shopping and all the other activities that go along with this season. Since 90% of my entire family, close to 75 people live in the same city, the holidays are always spent together.
I started putting up the garland, the two small trees and the wreaths up last night in preparation for decorating. I couldn't tackle putting up the big tree just yet. I even put on Christmas music to try and get me in the mood. In between cleaning and decking the halls, I chatted some with Homer and Sam. Chatted with the boyfriend some and realized I didn't call a few bloggers that I had promised.
I sat there looking around the room, wondering why am I bothering? I wanted to be home. Helping Mom put up the tree. Help can her red Christmas pickles (don't ask) and baking batches of cookies. I wanted to go Christmas shopping with her, followed by sipping hot chocolate at the Blue Moon Coffee Shop. Sitting there gossiping about family members and laugh until our sides hurt.
We would talk about my father and about how much we miss him. Especially during the holidays. Christmas was his favorite time of the year and it showed. We would drive to the cemetery and decorate his headstone with bouquets of Poinsettia's. After shedding a few tears, it would be back to the shopping mall.
My immediate family would meet every single Saturday like they have for the past 30 years at the same restaurant. We'd get caught up on each others lives and make our plans for the coming week. We would all meet for Church on Sunday morning and head out for lunch as a family afterwards. Usually followed by watching sports at my brothers house. Of course, I was in the kitchen chatting it up with the women. Go figure.
I finished putting up all the greenery I could and organized all the decorations. Eight boxes full. It won't be long before we will be sitting down for Thanksgiving Dinner and then preparing for our Christmas Cocktail Party.
I'm glad I have what I call an Extended Family here in Dallas. Otherwise, the holidays just wouldn't be the same.
Come December 22nd though, I'll be at home sipping hot chocolate with Mom.
I've mentioned here before about a woman on our floor with the scariest eyebrows ever. I call her Vulcan Lady. I swear she uses a ruler and a black magic marker to put those things on. Makes me want to tackle her, scrub them off and paint on new, more realistic ones. That constant surprised look that she has creeps me out every time I have to pass her on my way to the little boy's room.
Our Administrative Assistant was promoted to a new position within our department a few weeks ago. Our new Admin started just a few days ago. Great. Another one I have to break in. Contrary to popular belief, I can be a handful at times. Or a mouthful, depending on who you're talking to.
Stick with me people, there's a direction to my storytelling.
There's just one thing I can't get use to regarding our new Admin. Her eyebrows. Jet black sperm shaped arches that start really close together in the center of her forehead (half an inch apart) and arch over each eyelid, resting at the bottom the the corner of her eyes. I'm resisting the urge to jump my cube, remove them with a scouring pad and teach her the art of "natural looking eyebrows". I'm beginning to think they're tattooed on.
I love her to death though and she's working out great as an Admin. Plus, she can handle my joking, kidding around and teasing. I've stayed clear from the eyebrow issue. I'm still trying to get use to glancing her direction and seeing JUST the eyebrows hovering right above the top of our cubes. Bouncing little black sperm.
We've all mentioned that she's a spitting image of Janet from Three's Company. As I was sitting here yesterday, minding my own business and typing away, I started singing (without thinking, I might add)...
"Come and knock on my dooooor...."
Then I hear her respond.
"We've been waiting for yoooooou." "Yeah, people tell me I look like Janet from Three's Company", she whispers.
Then she burst out into a fit of giggles.
I think I'm going to like this new Admin.
The last time you were away traveling for work, I had a hard time handling you being gone. Some days were easier then others. It was the first time I realized how being in love could hurt as much as it felt so wonderful.
Countless hours on the phone made things easier.
You called me one afternoon when I was visiting my family back home. I couldn't believe you were home in Dallas while I was away. It immediately made me homesick for my other home. It wasn't long before the flood gates were opened. Because of my own insecurities, I had so many doubts and fears. Not to mention that I missed you terribly.
You asked me if I had the soundtrack to the movie Camp in my car. Of course I did. It was one of our favorite movies.
You told me to put it in and play, "I Believe In Us".
You waited on the other end as I listened.
You waited on the other end as I cried.
You told me to never, ever worry again.
.....and I haven't.
We arrived at the airport last night, with not a minute to spare. You were almost late for your first flight back to California. We jumped out of the car and threw open the trunk. You grabbed your bags, kissed me then ran to catch your flight.
It's still not easy seeing you leave.
I got back in my car and found the CD.
I skipped to number 13.....
I Believe in Us
I have always been a dreamer
From the day I was born I watched the sky
All the planets spinning silent
Like they knew their way,
And somehow I believed
we'd stand here one day.
Now I know you're afraid that love won't last
Say what you will,
I’ve got all the time you need
There's a dream and a chance,
Baby that's we have
Say that you will,
It will always be enough if you believe in us.
There are moments when I worry,
When the waters rise and the currents take you.
There's a life line stretched between us,
Between your heart and mine
Across all space and time and that never dies.
But I know you're afraid that love wont last
Say what you will,
I’ve got all the time you need
There's a dream and a chance,
Baby that's we have
Say that you will,
It will always be enough if you believe in us.
Baby say what you will,
I’ve got all the time you need
There's a dream and a chance,
Baby that's we have
Say that you will,
It will always be enough if you believe in us.
Just watch the sky,
Like the planets spinning silent,
We will find our way,
Baby I believe in us
Baby I believe in us,
yes I believe in us.
Come home soon.....
I've sat down at this computer and started writing an entry complaining about work more times then I can count. Vile, hateful words start spewing forth. I can feel these large veins that snake up my temples start to protrude and pulse. My blood pressure has been fluctuating lately and I'm sure it's skyrocketing as I type.
They tell me good job, pat me on the back and take me out to more appreciation lunches then I can count. I never have to work overtime. I've never came into the office on a weekend. I heard through the grapevine that I'm up for the yearly employee incentive trip which is in Vegas this year. All expenses paid for me and my other half. They treat you like royalty on these trips. They pay me well (not enough, but I get by). Great benefits. I love the people I work with.
So why am I miserable here the past few days? I'm being pulled in 50 directions. I'm being asked to help this person, test this implementation, review these findings, research this issue......the list goes on.
I just smile, get the job done and move on. But it's getting to me today. Thank goodness I'm being treated to a luncheon at one of the best restaurants in Uptown for a previous project implementation. Otherwise, I might snap and go postal. Three hours away from my desk to be pampered and patted on the back by our legal team.
Gah! (thanks Palochi)...guess it's better then nothing.
Maybe I should stop complaining.
I have a prospect in the works for something better. Working downtown in a highrise, incredible pay increase, opportunity for advancement and working for someone I've been friends with for 5 years.
Change is always difficult. We get comfortable.
This got me thinking about all the jobs I've had in my lifetime:
1. Cleaning the offices of a CPA firm in highschool.
2. Runza Drive Inn (Fast food)
3. Brass Buckle (clothing)
4. Yonkers (department store)
5. KU Alumni Center Bistro (waiter)
6. Tellers (restaurant waiter)
7. Carl I. Brown and Company/FT Mortgage (mortgage)
8. My current employment
I honestly thought there would be more jobs on my list. I tend to get a job and stick with it for years before changing. Can you see how I hate change?
Maybe all my fretting about work has to do with the fact the brownies someone brought in were stolen from our department this morning.
Who does such a thing?
Bastards.
Fuck with my chocolate and you fuck with me.
The weekend yet again, was chocked full of things to do. I won't bore you with the details of what we did, where we ate and any other sordid details I'm sure you all love hearing.
Instead I'll tell you about last night. My duplexmate next door has come out of Drag Retirement. Back in his day, he was quite the popular little drag diva from what I understand. Like many DQ's, he got tired of the scene and decided to quit. Another friend of ours decided to hold a charity even to raise money for the Dallas Community Center to help pay for their Thanksgiving Dinner they serve to over 300 HIV/AIDS people in need.
This was the return of Kristina Kross. Let me just say that Kristina Kross can be a bitch, but I still love her. It was also a chance for her to perform with many of her long time DQ friends and give his friends a chance to see him perform for the very first time. I think we were just as nervous as he was.
Our little girl was the Belle of the Ball. We're all pretty sure he's got the DQ bug back. I just don't think she has the extra closet space. She uses her talents to raise money for charity. I'm sure the community will welcome her back with open arms.
Cher made an appearance last night as well. I'm so proud of our friend Wayne.
He's not only one of the most sought after performers in Dallas, he's had his own Atlantic City show, written numerous childrens books, created childrens toys and has a cartoon based on his books and toys in the works.
After a while, I noticed some pretty well built hunks walk in the door. They are in town for some play called "Making Porn". The Falcon Porn stars stayed most of the evening, and even stripped for the event to help raise money.
To top off the evening, my baby got up and sang Father Figure. That's right, my baby can SANG! All I could just to hold back tears. I'm such a fucking sap.
You can see pics of the majority of the DQ's, our sisters comeback, pictures of friends and many shots of the Falcon Stars, including me in between the two of them, in My Photo Albums, named Kristina Kross.
What's is UP with people who like morning sex?
First off, you've got some unidentifiable chunky green crap taking up residence in the corners of your eye.
Your breath smells and taste like a cat came and took a poo poo in your mouth overnight without you knowing.
The butt crack and pubic patch of your body doesn't smell like some fucking bed of roses either I'm sure.
The first two things I usually need to do when I wake up along with showering and shaving are.......you guessed it, pooping and peeing.
And finally, have you seen how I act before I've had my coffee?
I'm a proponent for afternoon sex.
Let's start a petition.
Not that I'm complaining at ALL. I end up having a great time.
But guys, I'M NOT AT MY PRETTIEST!!!
Is it possible to be getting into the Christmas Spirit so early? Shit, we haven't even had Thanksgiving yet!
After a bit of CD shopping, we saw that the movie The Polar Express was showing in a few minutes, so we booked it to the theater to catch a late showing. Beautiful movie, incredible scenes, cheery Christmas music, heart warming story.......yet the children and elves look like something out of the Children Of The Corn. If you can get past the zombie looking children who might want to slit your throats, you'll experience a wonderful Christmas story. It took everything we had not to jump up during the credits and yell, "So are you saying that Santa is DEAD!!!????" We refrained.
We both were moist by the end of the flick. EYES! Our EYES were moist. Sheesh....
This caused us to put on a Christmas CD that Brian just bought once we got home. All we needed now was a fire, hot chocolate, fuzzy slippers, a warm comforter and some Christmas Porn. Is there such a thing?
We'll be decorating the entire house here in a week or so. We try to have it all finished around Thanksgiving since it takes us a couple days to complete it. We get way too busy preparing for our huge Slumber Party and Holiday Dinner that's coming up for Thanksgiving.
The time is upon us. I'm not sure I'm ready. The rest of the year is going to be hectic. Friends parties to attend, Thanksgiving dinner, Work Christmas party, our duplex Christmas Cocktail party, back to Nebraska for holidays, then eventually New Years Eve. Before you know it, the year 2005 will be upon us. Where in the hell did this year go? I haven't even started my shopping yet.
I honestly didn't expect to be talking about the Holidays so soon. After the movie we were starving. It was brisk outside last night. Our coats were bundled up, the wind was blowing and a crispness in the air as we ran across the street to get a latenight slice of pizza.
I thought to myself, wouldn't it be perfect if it were snowing just ever so lightly?
Then I remembered that we live in Texas.
I'm hoping for a White Christmas for the first time in years.
No, I'm not talking about when your partner has your face shoved in a pillow, pounding his chest like Tarzan, as he screams, "Make that pillow TALK baby!
MAKE.THAT.PILLOW.TAAAAALLLK!!!!"
*cricket noises*
I'm talking about the conversations we seem to have once get buck assed naked and climb in bed under the comforters for a good nights sleep. I will admit that I'm not much into pillow talk. The reason that I've gone to bed in the first place is because I'm exhausted and the last thing I'm ready to do is have a long, deep, passionate, hard......oh wait, we're talking about having a converstation. The point is I'm tired. I'm ready to SLEEP. Brian sees this moment as a time to reflect, recap the days events, talk about the future and of course, persuade me to attach helium balloons to my ankles. Or his for that matter depending on which way the wind is blowing. Despite the fact I just gave it to him only 5 hours earlier. Greedy lil' shit. He sees this as a time to talk, giggle, be silly, tease and tickle.
All he gets from me is, "STOP THAT! NO! WOULD YOU QUUUIT! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!" Always done in my most cute southern bell accent, of course.
He's such a goofball, but he's MY goofball. I heart him.
I have noticed that pillow talk commences right after sex though. After wiping up all the spooge, we find ourselves getting into deep political discussions, commenting on the state and future of our country, talking about moving in together or possibly buying a home some day, whether or not Martha Stewart was guilty and is enjoying prison, how bad Donald Trumps combover is or whether or not we should take a late night trip to Sonic for his Route 44 sized Diet Vanilla Cherry Coke.......easy on the ice please.
I'm not sure why our conversations are the most serious and deep when we're in bed. Either before or after sex. Maybe we're just so at ease with each other at that moment. We've just played "hide the sausage" which studies prove relaxes you. We're relaxed, relieved and for some odd reason, feel the need to talk.
The bed is our comfort zone.
Our place of intimacy.
A place to plan our future.
Susan Powder Our next door duplexmate dragged invited us kicking and screaming to a pep rally motivational seminar last night. I've been to these types of cults meetings in the past. I find that a person jumping around on stage, trying to be funny, way to perky for his own damn good, trying to tell me what's wrong with my life and how to improve it to be quite irritating. I do have to say that the speaker was quite the little hottie. If you could tape his mouth shut.
Picture a room full of clones people all smiling, hugging, kissing and again, way to fucking perky. The speaker said that we were probably wondering what was up with all the happy people in the room!!!!!! I pictured his notes that he had on his podium to be filled to the brim with exclamation points. I can tell that our duplexmate has been attending this mindnumbing self-help seminar. Every email we've received from him this past week has been sugarcoated with smiley faces and exclamation points.
I'm trying not to sound cynical. It seems to be working for him which I think is fantastic. He needed "something" to grab a hold on to and motivate him in his job, his life and his relationships. I know these types of things don't work for everyone. Others need more guidance. He's been to work on time, worked out a relationship issue and has more motivation and confidence in the past few days, then he's had in years. I commend him for his efforts and wish him the best of luck.
I just can't shell out $510 for a 3 day group hug. I know I would leave with some new perspective on life, work and relationships. I just can't justify spending that kind of money with all the other financial burdens I have right now.
Another time and possibly I would consider poking my eye out with a sharp stick attending a pyramid scheme this wonderful, life changing event.
What did we do after our first pep rally break last night you might ask?
Went to the bar and had a couple glasses of wine and never went back.
I'm going to hell.
As I was listening the the drone of the local morning show, they were talking about the opening of a Krystal Burger fast food restaurant here in North Texas. The first one of it's kind in this area. Many of you might know them as White Castle. Funny how the "South" decides to rename the chain Krystal rather then White Castle.
The store opened up this morning. People have been camped out for the past two days, anxiously anticipating their first Krystal Burger in ages. For those who know about either restaurant, you either love them or hate them. I for one, LOVE them. 2 X 2 inch Burgers come in packs of 6 or more. I can't tell you how many times we would leave the bar at 2-3am and head straight for a White Castle and pig out until our hearts content. We would wake up the next morning to a sea of empty boxes and bags strewn all over the livingroom floor. Ah, the memories.
Is there a restaurant that you would camp out in line for opening day? A fast food chain you would drive hours just to eat if one opened up? Is there a place you have tons of childhood and teenage memories associated with? There's three for me.
I worked at a place called Runza Drive Inn during Highschool and College. It's the only German influenced fast food restaurant as far as I know. They specialized in buttered bread pockets filled with a combination of cooked cabbage, ground beef, onions, peppers and spices. They're heavenly.
There's another place that I honestly would drive HOURS just to go and eat. Taco John's. I can't pinpoint what it is about their food, but I've been known to eat it twice in one day when I'm home visiting the family. I can't get enough! I rencently found out that they opened up a store in Kilean Texas, about two and a half hours away from here. I can't wait to take a little road trip. I'm totally serious. People here at work think I'm crazy. Except the girl that's from Iowa. She almost got teary eyed when I told her about it being so close.
The final restaurant is called Valentino's Pizza. I almost wet myself just thinking about their pizza buffet. My family still eats there every single Sunday after church. Bless their hearts.
Each one of these restaurants either started in Nebraska or neighboring state. I've met many Nebraskans here in Texas who will eventually ask if I've seen or know of one of the above places near Dallas. We're finatical about them.
Are you finatical about any fast food chain?
Bus? Yeah, the bus that ran over me. My body can't take much more. Fine, my LIVER can't take much more. It's pissed off at me.
After picking up Brian and grabbing a bite of dinner, we decided to catch the late showing of The Incredibles. The movie was.......well, incredible. Damn I should become a movie critic, huh? Just go see it.
The next morning we got up around 11am. We seemed to have a tad bit of trouble getting out of bed. We hooked up with a friend of ours named Kenneth. He wanted me to mention to you all about him in this entry. He also wanted me to tell you how adorable and available he is. We saw the movie The Grudge and just goofed around until time to go to my VP's birthday party. I've made it a point never to hang out with co-workers outside of the workplace. I like keeping my private life separate. Plus, I see them enough during the week. It was kind of surreal to be greeted with a hug from your boss. Even more surreal to get a hug from each of your co-workers and their spouses. I knew it was time to leave when an ex co-worker yelled, "Time for Vodka shots!". After I had a shot of course.
The rest of the night gets a tad blurry. I remember hanging out at JR's until our friend Kenneth had a poop emergency. Seems he's a tad poop shy and requires a single private bathroom stall. We headed down to Alexandre's which is known to have one such bathroom. The bar was closed. Time was of the essence. Pooping must commence soon! I knew Woody's had a single stall women's bathroom. We rushed him over there and guarded the door. I didn't realize that they had remodeled the bathrooms. It has two stalls now. There was a woman in the stall next to him which he didn't know was there. Poor girl.
Pooping catastrophe was averted.
After all that was behind us, we headed back to JR's. We glanced over and saw the comedian Shirley Q. Liquor sitting at the bar. Seems he/she had a gig that night in lower Greenville and decided to hang out for a drink afterwards in the gayborhood. Sorry the pic isn't very good. Camera phones still have a long way to go.
It's rumored that we headed over to the country bar. They play normal, not-so-twangy music around midnight. Rumor also has it that Brian and I were half naked on the dance floor bumping and grinding. I hate forgeting bits and pieces of an evening. All I know, is when we got home my shirt was off and tucked in my pants. Needless to say, Sunday was spent in recovery. For me at least.
The other half felt groovy.
Ah to be 29 again.
No more drinking with Kenneth. My hangover is all his fault. He's of the devil. He is evil and must be destroyed. Think he's happy with all I've written about him today? Probably not a good thing for someone to ask me that I mention them in my blog.
You never know WHAT I might say.
I was surprised a few weeks ago to receive an invitation to the celebration party for this years AIDSWalk. Thanks to many of my readers, blogger friends and Co-workers, I was able to surpass my goal and raise over 750 dollars.
I sent my R.S.V.P saying that I would attend. I'm not good at events like this where I don't know a soul. I end up becoming a wallflower, sipping my wine and trying not to make eyecontact with anyone. These things make me uncomfortable. Despite my uneasyness, I felt I had a duty to go.
Brian was suppose to be going with me before he was called back to work another week in San Diego. Since he wasn't here, I asked my roommate to tag along. Mention free drinks and food and most anyone would have tagged along. Neither one of us knew what to expect. I had never been to one of these things before. I was getting butterflies in my stomach. You see, I received a letter two days ago confirming that I was coming. Within the letter it mentioned that I was being honored as one of the top individual fundraisers.
People started to arrive. Hugs were being given, people were laughing, talking, drinking and eating. Quite a festive event. We watched a short video from the walk, gave away raffle prizes and then started with the awards. Every single corporate sponsor was recognized for their years of service. The amount of money, time and services these groups donate is staggering. I wish our company would become a corporate sponsor. I might just have to speak to someone about that.
They went through the top five team fundraisers. Many of these people have been raising thousands of dollars since the first AIDSWalk in Dallas almost 14 years ago. Many told stories of why they walk. Someone lost a best friend. A teenager lost an Uncle. Another lost a Father. Some had lost too many friends to count. The passion and commitment these people have literally brought tears to my eyes. I was doing everything possible to keep myself from crying. It's because of these people that many friends, aquaintances and myself included, have benefited from the time and effort these people put in to raising as much money as they possibly can.
This was MY community. Felt like a proud Father.
They finally started recognizing individual fundraisers. People who by themselves raised a substantial amount of money. Names were called, standing ovations, cheers, whistles and pats on the back were given. Never before had I felt such love from a group of people. I was the 2nd highest fundraiser and was awarded various gift certificates in Dallas.
I owe it all to you guys.
Do you know what eventually made me cry last night? The fourth highest individual fundraiser was called. They mentioned that this guy will probably be taking over some of their jobs in the near future. They were giving this person so much praise. I kept thinking, who the hell is this person? I crained my neck to see who was walking up to the stage. He was at the table next to us.
The fourth highest individual was none other then an 8 year old boy standing a little over three and a half feet tall, who by himself, has enough passion to this cause to be ranked 4th in Dallas. It seems we have some competition next year.
The smile on his face was priceless.
The smile on our faces was priceless as well.
The signs of when Autumn has officially arrived:
-You hear my roommate bound downstairs at 5am to turn on the heat, run back down the hallway, slamming his door and hopping to his bed before hypothermia sets in.
-I wake up in the fetal position with my head covered up by 3 blankets shivering like my chihuahua. Swear to God my bed was vibrating.
-Wake up cussing myself out for leaving my bedroom window "cracked open" for fresh air. I'm such a dumbass.
-It's 6am and my nipples could cut glass! They never get hard. Hmmm, I think I like this feeling.
-It takes at least 2 hours for my balls do drop due to the sub-zero temperatures. Who knew they could totally disappear?
-I turn on the shower and let it run for 10 minutes to warm things up. In turn, creating an atmosphere rivaling the Turkish Baths.
-Rubbing my body raw from toweling myself dry tremendously faster then what's deemed normal speed so the water droplets don't freeze into icicles.
-Wishing I still had a hairdryer. I haven't had one for obvious reasons since 1987. Those worked great to heat up a persons body and dry out the carpet I call chest hair.
-Wondering why the first time you turn on the heater all season, it makes that funky oder that I just LOVE.
-Wishing I had someone in my bed this morning (this would be Brian for all those wondering) with a hairy chest and arms wrapping them around me to keep me warm.
Can you tell it was freezing this morning? We Texans aren't use to this shit. I grew up in Nebraska with freezing temperatures and snowstorms from hell during the Autumn and Winter seasons. You think I could handle this crap. Mother Nature needs to ease us into 40 degree weather a little bit more slowly.
Stupid bitch.
I'm moving to California. Screw Canada.
(I still heart all my Canadian blogger buddies!)
I was going to follow Palochi's suit and have a black out day of mourning on this journal in case Bush wins or the election wasn't fair. He knows I worship the quicksand he walks on and strive to mimmick his every move. *cough* I want to be LIKE him.
To hell with it. Heart you Palochi, but I always post something.
The duplexmates gathered next door for grilled burgers and fries. We sat there watching numbers coming in one by one. We drank our wine, made comments, yelled when a victory and cursed when a defeat. My roomie headed to bed early. Either that or he slipped out the back door to go to a re-occuring tricks house for some booty bumping. Who knows.
As I laid there with the majority of the doggies in my lap, I saw how things were progressing. I hadn't admitted defeat yet, but had no sense of elation either. I went home around 11pm, climbed into bed and turned on the tv. I fell asleep with the flashes of light from the TV flickering all around me. The lights woke me up around 2am and 4am. Without my bifocals, I tried to make out how things were going.
Finally I just said to hell with it and turned the TV off.
I'm tired.
I'm melancholy.
I'm irritated.
Our country made it's decision it seems. We have to live with it. At least I have a right to bitch about how things are being done this next four years.
And by God I'm going to bitch.....
Maybe I should move to Canada like others have suggested. Start practicing saying, "Eh!"
This isn't a day for funny stories, hilarious jokes or cutsie pictures.
I had to go pick up a birthday cake for our Vice President at 7am this morning. I didn't sleep well, was tired, groggy and crabby. I arrived a few minutes early, hoping they would open the doors so I could grab the cake and drive a half an hour to work during rush hour.
At 7am sharp a woman opened the doors as I was walking up. A sweet Hispanic woman with a very thick accent greeted me with a smile and said, "Happy Election Day!" with much enthusiasm.
She kept going on and on about how important today was for her and her family. She was telling ME about the importance of voting. She asked me if I was taking time to vote and I told her that I had done it last weekend. She thought that it was wonderful that I had done that and wished she could just close down her bakery all day.
"I want to be out voting, not in here baking cakes. I'll have wait until after work.", she said.
This woman isn't letting anyone else pick her President for her.
Why should you?
GET OUT AND VOTE!!!
**This message was approved by Zeitzeuge**
We got up early Saturday morning, did our thing, ate some lunch then headed to the Dallas World Aquarium for the afternoon. Click here (Dallas World Aquarium) to see all the pictures of pretty little fishies. We found Nemo, by the way.
I'm glad Halloween only comes once a year. Damn holiday wears my ass out. Our Priest and Little boy costumes were a hit. Can't tell you how many people said, "Bless me father!" The two men working at the local 7-Eleven convenient store actually thought I was a real Priest. They were overly polite and kept bowing their heads all the time.
The Snickers bar I had attached to my crotch didn't stay on very long. Not sure when I lost it, but at one point I look over and Brian's eating the candybar.
After getting all dressed up, we headed to some friends house for a pre-party. Hung out with friends, got drunk, played with a couple strippers pee pees, then headed out to the Street Party in the hood. I would have included the pics of the naked boys, but trust me they're not worth checking out so I removed them. Take my word for this.
The entire evening was a blast up until some guy and his girlfriend knocked me over in the bar. I gave them a look and turned around. He came back and tried to knock me over again. I asked him what the fuck his problem was and he hit me on the side of the head. A little lesbian we were with which I nicknamed Scrappy-Doo after this incident, saw this happen and basically ATTACKED the guy. All I saw was this little girl, half this guys size, tearing him up one side and down the other. She got knocked to the ground, bounced back up like a rubber ball and went after him again.
That guy knows better then to mess with ME again.
We stumbled home and crashed after that. I was finished. We spent the entire day yesterday recovering.
Click Here (Halloween 2004) to see pictures from the night.
