Wit and Catharsis

Day 8: Costa Rica – Pura Vida

2012-01-14T20:57:00.000-08:00

Costa Rica is awesome.It’s a place I hope to come back and explore someday. So nostalgic forGuatemala.

This leaf was easily 5-6 feet long

We took a long bus ride through banana plantations, cattlefincas, pineapple plantations, and past neighborhoods, volcanoes, and little towns.Fascinating. Along the way, the bus pulled over because a sloth was hanging out by the side of the road.

Aunt Susan and I took theaerial tram through the canopy of the rainforest, which was pretty great. Nature is just amazing. My pictures didn’t come out well and even ifthey had, they could in no way capture what we saw. The highlights were spotting several sloths,an anteater, and several big, iridescent blue butterflies. We also learnedabout something they call the kerosene plant. The bud is faintly orange on theoutside and hot pink on the inside and, just as sure as the nose on your face,smells like kerosene.

Dripping moss

We also saw an enormous leaf-cutter ant colony. These littleguys are amazing. I assumed the plants they carry into their colony were forthem to eat. But instead, they buildtheir colonies around mushrooms, feed the plants to the mushrooms and thenthemselves feed off mushroom byproducts. We also saw bullet ants, which areabout an inch long and will bite the fire out of you and make you swell up likea balloon.

Costa Rica itself has a really interesting history and isunique among Central America. They have no army and instead invest their money oneducation and healthcare. The population is pretty heterogeneous and integratedand people are very much into being peaceful and easy-going. Their saying is“pura vida,” meaning very good/great, and it peppers their conversations. Alsoawesome: the government has been careful to preserve their natural resources.Costa Rica has about 5% of the world’s biodiversity in an area only the size ofWest Virginia.

Costa Rica = Pura Vida!

This really has nothing to do with Costa Rica except that these people were there. And this is my new favorite picture.

Day Seven: The Panama Canal

2012-01-13T20:42:00.000-08:00

The Panama Canal is one of the few things I actuallyremember learning about in elementary school, and even then I thought it wasboth crazy and cool. I had a preconceived notion of what the Panama Canal wouldbe like - a large ditch dug through the isthmus – but it’s not like that at all. We got up early in the morning to watch as we passed through. Here are some facts about the crazy cool canal:

1. TheFrench started building the canal and after sinking millions of dollars andlosing 20,000+ men to yellow fever and malaria, they gave up the project.

2. The U.S. took the project over and beforecontinuing building, set about eliminating yellow fever and malaria, at whichthey were largely successful thanks to the recent discovery that mosquitos werethe culprits.

3. The project took about 10 years and wasincredibly tedious. It rains about 240+ inches a year and workers worked asfast as they could to dredge and dig, and by the end of the day, it was filledwith water again.

4. The Canal opened in 1914. The first ship wentthrough the day WWI started.

5. The canal is super narrow. At the time it wasbuilt, the canals were wide enough to accommodate virtually any ship; however,that is no longer the case. Currently,another canal is under construction to allow larger ships through. It is scheduled for completion in 2014.

Using the Canal

Ships wanting to pass through the canal wait in line anaverage of 12 – 24 hours. You can make a reservation, of sorts, to assure youpass through in a timely manner. Though it will save you time, it will cost youas much as purchasing a luxurious mid-sized sedan - $35,000. In order to pass through, all ships are alsoassessed a toll based on number of passengers, cargo weight, and shipsize. Our ship’s toll was $350,000,meaning that to pass through they forked over a total of $385,000. From these tolls, the Panamanian governmentbrought in well over $2 billion in revenue last year. In an effort to avoid the hefty fees, manycargo ships unload onto trains just before reaching the canal and the train ismet on the other side of the canal by another freighter ship that reloads – allof this costing less than passing through the canal.

Fact: Cargo ships carry on average about 4500 shipping containers

How it Works

There are actually 2 sets of locks. You pass through thefirst set into Gatún Lake, cross the lake into the second set and then outinto the Pacific.

Pilot's shuttle

Assuming you’ve paid a whopping reservation fee or havewaited patiently, you line up for one of the two lanes of the canal. A specialpilot boards the ship and takes over because this is no small maneuvering feat.As mentioned before, the canals are narrow - this ship had only about 2 feet ofspace on either side, and I’m pretty sure the one next to us had even lessroom. Along each side of the canal and spaceddown the length of the ship are locomotives, or mules. These mules have cables attached to the shipthat are pulled taught in order to keep the ship from budging side toside. The ship uses its own motor to powerthrough the locks, but the mules keep exact pace and hold the ship tightly inline.

Water pours into the locks from Lake Gatúnthrough enormous tunnels about the size of a typical New York subwaytunnel. Ships are raised 85 feet betweenthe three locks, which requires about 52 million gallons of water per ship. At35 ships per day, it’s a wonder the lake still has water in it, but itapparently rains so much here the lake has an extra spillway that usually has asubstantial amount in it.

Water tunnel

After you've passed through, they row out, unhook the cables and send you on your way.

So that’s how the Panama Canal works. A bit more complexthan the simple canal I envisioned, but much more interesting.

Day Six: Day at Sea, The Day of Observation and The Day Politeness Wore Off

2012-01-12T20:10:00.000-08:00

Last night, I slept on the balcony, listening to the soundof waves breaking on the ship and looking at the stars. It was kind offantastic. I woke up to witness thesunrise and promptly went inside because it was sweaty and hot.

Today I observed a woman in her 70’s who, by all visualaccounts, got fully into the Caribbean spirit by having her thinning hair putinto cornrows, complete with beads. After several days of seeing her at dinnerand lamenting the lack of a camera, we discreetly captured the elegant way thelighting softly bounced off her exposed scalp and promptly laughed until tearswere rolling down cheeks.
I can't wait to get the picture from Aunt Susan because it really is worth a thousand words.

In the middle of a presentation about the day’s events, AuntSara scooted over to make room for an older couple. This seated her directly next to a grumpyolder woman who looked at her and slapped her on the leg. Take aback, Aunt Sara said, “I’m sorry?” andthe woman hissed, “I’m saving these seats!” Now, the presentation had been going on for a good 20 minutes and it waspretty clear no one was coming. Andthere were empty seats on her other side. The Lady Who Came In Late told Sara she was fine and needn’t move. Grumpy Lady again hissed at Sara to move,which elicited a response from Late Lady, and thus began an exchange of someheated words, with Aunt Sara stuck in the middle.

In the crow’s nest area of the ship there is a lounge withhighly coveted recliners and an excellent view. A truly decrepit man hobbled all the way up there and took a few solidminutes getting situated in a recliner. Just as he was settled in, the person next to him informed him they weresaving the recliner. The old man simplyreached up, turned off his hearing aid, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

This picture has nothing to do with anything, except I saw lots of this on sea days.

Those cavorting around the ship by way of motorized vehicleshave become increasingly pushy and no longer have any qualms about rammingtheir vehicles into the back of your legs or running over your bare toes if ithelps them get down the hall faster or on the elevator sooner. Mobile devils.

But you know who is never rude or short? The stewards. Theyare unfailing and unnervingly courteous. These men are also like magic elves ofcleanliness. I don’t know how they do it, but anytime you leave your room formore than 30 minutes…voila! It’s been tidied. I enjoyed this novelty for thefirst day or two, but now I mostly guilty about them repeatedly cleaning upafter me while the most strenuous thing I’ve done is walk around the shiplooking for more cookies. Though theyare endlessly polite, as the days pass, the veneers of their smiles arestarting to wear a little thin and the faintest strain is visible in theireyes. I feel like they must despise me and all the other lazy, overly indulgedcruisers. How could they not? This is the most selfish and lazy I think I’veever been in my life, and not only is it not considered a bad thing – it’shighly encouraged.

Day 5: Curaçao

2012-01-11T10:14:00.000-08:00

In October, Curaçao became its own country, breakingaway from the Dutch Antilles Islands, of which it was previously a part. TheDutch influence is pretty evident in the main part of town where the buildings areclosely packed, tall, narrow, and brightly colored.

There is a story that all the buildings usedto be white until one of the rulers of Curaçao, who was prone to migraines,claimed all the white was reflecting too much sunlight and intensifying his headaches.He demanded everyone paint their houses and businesses in differentcolors. It turns out he owned the paintstore on the island. In any case, thetradition continued and the buildings are bright and cheerfully painted.

Jewish cemetery

There is a good bit of history here, withremaining bits of a great sea fort and enormous cannons. A major channel runsthrough the middle of town and my nerdy-self watched, transfixed, as enormoustankers and other freight boats were guidedthrough by sturdy little tug boats.

We took a tour around and saw upper, middle, and lower classneighborhoods, visited a liqueur factory, a fancy manmade beach, and othersundry places.

Each morning on the ship, Handsome Cruise Director Davemakes announcements about the day’s events. On schedule for today was the steel drum band from Trinidad calledIsland Magic slated to perform popular classical and Broadway tunes. As per hisusual hyperbolic enthusiasm, Cruise Director Dave said, “The audience willsimply go wild after hearing this amazing group.” Well, with a description likethat, I had to see for myself, though I was skeptical of the power of IslandMagic to affect the audience so strongly that they collectively lose theirminds.

We arrived 45 minutes early, which was apparently none toosoon. The house was soon packed (and carefully parked).

Island magic opened big – Cats and Evita. With eachannouncement about the next song to be performed, the audience gasped thegasp-of-familiar-love and enthusiastically bubbled to each other. It’s a fact:white people love their show tunes.

They rounded out the show with Beethoven, Offenbach andGlenn Miller. Though I went to the show sardonically, I cannot lie; IslandMagic enchanted me. Their performance apparently deeply moved the man next to mewho leapt out of his seat in repeated standing ovations during the middle ofthe show. Trust me when I say he was hardly alone in his Island Magic fervor. By the end he was ferociously bellowing, “ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORETIME!”

Handsome Cruise Director Dave was not exaggerating. The crowd wentabsolutely nuts. I’ve never seen anything like it. Even now, the next morning, as I write this,I’m in a lounge where Island Magic is doing a Q&A and the place is jammedby older individuals plying the band with questions about how they avoid carpaltunnel and tennis elbow.

Today I learned to never underestimate the fetching accentof those from Trinidad & Tobago, the power of the steel drum, or AndrewLloyd Weber.

These videos are for you, Jo Katherine Fatzinger:

Day 4: Aruba

2012-01-10T09:55:00.000-08:00

Aruba is all of 38 square miles, seedy and dark, almost allof it chintzy tourist souvenir stores, slightly dumpy hotels, and coastal chainrestaurants aimed at getting scantily clothed sorority girls drunk, like SeñorFrogs.

We rode the public bus around the island, which was pleasant and of minimal interest.The beaches weren’t even that great.

Today I learned not to waste your time in Aruba. Also, ifyou do find yourself there, you probably don’t want to be out after dark.

Day Three: The Day At Sea

2012-01-09T12:13:00.000-08:00

Today, we were at sea all day. The air is suddenly warm and salty and thewaves much bigger. We spent severalhours passing by Haiti - mountainous, jagged, and dry. It was absolutelybeautiful. There were fishermen out ontheir roughly-fashioned sailboats and we spied upon them with ourbinoculars.

After passing Haiti, there was nothing but open ocean as faras the eye could see. In fact, I spent agood deal of today contemplating how terrifying it would be to be lost atsea. It’s just vast and overwhelming andrough and I’m weak and pale and without an ounce of practical survivalknowledge, despite reading many books during my childhood about surviving misadventuresand not blinking once during the entirety of Castaway. Coincidentally, I’vebeen reading A Short History of NearlyEverything where the author briefly outlines the history of majorscientific discovery. I’ve been thinking a lot about how man has dominated theearth, subdued its wildness, and is now plundering its resources, while theocean seems untamed and undiscovered and able to vengefully crush man.

I also made several food mistakes today. These mistakes were born outof my determination to
a)get my money’s worth out of this cruise by eating expensive food;
b)try new things to which I wouldn’t normally have access; and
c)feel like a classy adult who enjoys fancy food.

My first food mistake was ordering duck paté. I guess I thought I was ordering somethingmore like duck pat-ty. Only after ordering did my mother lean over and say, “Youknow patéis liver, right?” As a general rule, I find it best to avoid animal parts that functionto eliminate waste from the body, but I decided to roll with it. Much to my chagrin, it was significantly lessdelicious than spam. As though tastingbologna-fied duck liver wasn’t bad enough, it had this disgusting layer of slightlyyellowed gelatin on top.

DuckPaté Verdict: Though beautiful in presentation, not beautiful in taste. Also, what’s with the Jello Jigglers on top?

Mysecond food mistake was ordering lobster. Everyone was raving about howdelicious lobster is, so though I generally do not like shelled sea creatures,I came to dinner prepared to love it, or at the very least develop a workingrelationship with the stuff. As it turnsout, I still do not love lobster. Infact, it grossed me out - the texture, the taste, the smell. The texture. My jaws are clenching justthinking about it. Worse, its legs weresticking in my broccoli. Still worse, the fact that legs were easilyidentifiable.

LobsterVerdict: Woof. I don't get the appeal.

The highlight of the day, by far, was karaoke*. My favorite performer was a stout German mannamed Roland who had a face like melting wax. He apparently loved Elvis as well as the ladies, and insisted onpointing at women in the audience while he sang. At several points, he spun around and unabashedlyshook his posterior at the audience, eliciting hoots and hollers from the wholeof the white-headed audience.

The other standout was a tiny, lithe woman with a deep, gravellyvoice and a long white braid named Madeline. She was singing the Righteous Brothers Unchained Melody and at one pointsaid, “Check this out,” as she squatted down – to the ground – and slowly roseup as she sang a mega-long note. I had tears streaming down my face it was sohilarious.

Today confirmed that I am a girl of simple tastes. I prefer sandwiches (aka, the world's most perfect food) to lobster or snobby duck guts, and a good bout of kareoke will easily entertain me for an evening.

*Becca and Bailey Bolten, you would have loved this. How I wish you were here!

Day Two: The Day Aunt Susan’s Medical Advice Erased a Day Of My Life

2012-01-07T23:58:00.000-08:00

I became a bit nauseous at dinner last night. Aunt Susan gave me one of her sea-sick pillsand insisted it would fix everything without a hint of drowsiness. I went backto the room and lay down. When they came in later, Aunt Susan insisted I takeanother pill, which I trustingly did, and promptly fell asleep. Throughout the night, I was awakened by theirregular and frightening snoring patterns of the Sisters Starling. Thoseladies cut some serious z’s. Presumablywith chainsaws. Though I could hear them- as no doubt did everyone within the 4 adjacent cabins - I couldn’t roll overor cover my face with a pillow or really, do anything. So I lay there, paralyzed and awake. When I woke in the morning, I was groggy andcouldn’t make sense of what anyone was saying to me. Aunt Susan, The Dope Fiend, suggested I taketwo more pills to combat the nausea I was sure to experience on the tender rideto the island of the day. Too slow to deduce the medication as the source of mywooziness, I took her advice and two more pills, forced myself up, and tried toget excited about my first trip to the Bahamas.

After a quick shuttle to the island, the Aunts and I moseyedalong the pristine white beaches, cooed over the crystal clear turquoise water,and parked ourselves in some lounge chairs in the cool shade. Aunt Sara and I, overwhelmed by theside-effects of our medication, took naps, while Aunt Susan kept our partysocially couth by nudging Sara when she started snoring. There were lots of colorful parasailers,snorkelers, a few boaters, and an abundance of saggy, tanned elder-flesh ondisplay. Apparently, you can also rent horses that have been trained to swim inthe ocean, which I was really hoping someone would fork out the dough to try soI could watch.

After a while, the beach began to fill up and our shadedisappeared, so in an effort to stave off sunburn, we ferried back to the boat,where I promptly fell into a coma-nap, awaking in time to clean up for dinnerat a fancy restaurant. We later played aferocious game of Scrabble and returned to our room and chatted until everyonefell asleep.

So, today I learned that I should never again take anymedication offered by Aunt Susan, no matter how bad I feel.

Day One: The Day We Boarded the Ship (or, the day I suddenly understand the extent of the booming elderly population)

2012-01-06T23:53:00.000-08:00

After a nice night in the hotel in Ft. Lauderdale, we were set to board the ship Friday.

Aunt Sara, Aunt Susan, the momster

We were given enormous day-glow yellow stickers with “11:15”written on them to denote the shuttle we were to take to the dock. We headed downstairs and were met by a groupof sprightly retirees, proudly donning their bright yellow stickers. The wholeidentification method was rather similar to the fashion in which you identifypreschoolers on a zoo field trip, using the stickers to send wayward youngstersback to their group after dallying too long at the lion cage. As it turns out,this method is entirely appropriate for the population that takes HollandAmerica cruises.

Pure Tourism.

We arrived at the Ft. Lauderdale port (which is the largestpassenger port in the world, and is fascinating unto itself) and were greeted byhoards of older folks, just as far as the eye could see. As Aunt Sara said, “Itlooks like pudding day at the old folks’ home!” Some were as youthful and vibrant as the enormous stickers they donned, andsome so delicate and decrepit they were likely to disintegrate into a pile of dustthe moment their black calf socks were stripped from their veiny blue legs.Everywhere you looked, children of my parents’ age were hollering at theirhard-of-hearing, headstrong parents who were tottering off in every direction,apparently just mobile enough to be dangerous.

In any case, Gram knew how to book a deluxe vacation, becausewe were escorted to the front of every line and zipped right onto the ship,thus avoiding the lengthy lines in the sun. I have never been on or seen a cruise ship before, and I gotta say,these ships are really something. Firstof all, the ship is way, WAY bigger than any building in Abilene - it’s justenormous. It’s decked out to-the-nines. Lots of gilding and gold and plush, richly colored carpets; fancyelevators; decorative doors and knobs; great attention to detail; a library, afew pools, gym, salon, steam rooms, lounges, stores, restaurants, cafeterias,string quartets, comedians, church services, pianists, guitarists, and on - it’sbonkers. Now that I think about it,there are probably equally as many amenities contained on this vessel as in theentirety of Abilene. Behold our room:

There is also quite an assortment of unusual chairs, whichAunt Sara is cheerfully helping me document as I sit in each one.

We ate lunch – no, we actually dined - at a fancy restaurant where the waiters pull out your chairfor you (my dates don’t even do that*), and place the napkin in your lap. Wespent the rest of the afternoon exploring, taking pictures of each other doingsilly things, and making our final calls and texts, being sure to send jealousyinducing pictures and descriptions. Myfavorite text of the day came from Josey who wrote, “I’M NOT EVEN HAPPY FORYOU!!!!!!!” and “Billy says he hates you.” You’re not in the lap of luxury until your brother-in-law despises you.

Though I’ve never been on a cruise before, I’ve generallynot been a proponent of them. But, lounging on the plush king-sized bed sippingChampaign as the grandiose bellow-blow of the ship’s horn rattled my bones andresonated in my teeth as we departed, I thought I just might change mytune.

*Which is totally fine with me.

Cruisin' into 2012

2012-01-05T21:06:00.000-08:00

This is the story of why you should always keep yourpassport current.

At about 6:30 yesterday evening, my mother called and said, “Ihave the opportunity of a lifetime for you.” Instead of describing a sweet housesittinggig, as I assumed she would, she asked if I wanted to go on a 10 day cruise to Panama.For free. It just so happened that thissounded like a pretty good idea to me.

It is worth noting that I was pretty far down the order ofsuccession for this trip. This fourthspot was initially slated for Gram, who passed away, and then for my mom’scousin Rachel, whose husband had a medical emergency. I had a sneakingsuspicion that this fourth spot was cursed, and feared that I very well mightmeet with some terrible fate, but I decided to take a chance.

After checking to see if my passport was still current(barely), scrambling to find a pet sitter, someone to take over my work dutiesfor both jobs (thanks Jori, Steven, and Dad!), a frantic search for the halfgallon of sunscreen such a trip requires for someone of my fair-skinned-ness, Ifound myself on the way to the Austin airport scarcely more than 12 hours after findingout about the trip.

But you guys. I forgot how unpleasant flying is. Sittingside-buttock to side-buttock with complete strangers is not my idea of a goodtime. Facing your seat partner in anattempt at conversation requires a physical intimacy not unlike kissing; further,that conversation will inevitably allow you to detect exactly what thatstranger had for lunch. In the case ofmy seatmates, it seems hard liquor and pastrami were on the menu.

Also today I discovered something far worse than sitting near a screaming child, and that is being stuck in the middle of a clustercuss ofdrunken car salesmen:

And now I'm sharing a bed with my mother, who snores. Big time. It's like sleeping next to a motor speedway. I have got to find some earplugs.

The good news is we cruise tomorrow for a private island inthe Bahamas, where I have the option to sail, snorkel, parasail, go horseback riding, or hang out in a hammockunder the palms. Awesome.

Beating Darwin

2011-11-29T10:37:00.001-08:00

How in the world of survival of the fittest have I managed to survive? I may actually be the living proof Creationists need to debunk Darwin’s evolution of species. Sometimes I do things that cause me to question what mighty, benevolent force saw fit to allow me to mature to adulthood.

But today. Today was rock bottom.

As I was brushing my hair, getting ready for work, I found a piece of cake in my hair. Cake that I had for lunch yesterday. And not just a teensy crumb, but a serious mouse-life sustaining piece…complete with icing. It was a real life Liz Lemon moment. If I had a twitter account, it would have been listed under the hash tag #reasonswhyImstillsingle.

On Repeat

2011-10-14T08:26:00.001-07:00

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

This Week in Abilene...Stargirl vs. Toxic Megacolon

2011-09-29T16:54:00.000-07:00

- Dad got mustard on his beard, right under his bottom lip in the white part, and even after vigorous wiping, it was still stained yellow. I looked at it the entire dinner time. It reminded me of Tasty Pete's sloppy beard.

- Mom was talking about pop stars at dinner one evening, and for some reason she started talking about Beyonce, only she pronounced it "bee-yon-ss." It. was. so. funny. Later that evening, she tried to teach me how to properly pronounce the ladies name "Dawn." As it turns out, I cannot do it, and I wage you Texas kids can't either.

- During the course of my studies I stumbled upon www.sewerhistory.org. It's weirdly interesting and engrossing. Also in the course of my studies I found out about a condition/disease called "Toxic Megacolon." I hope I don't get it.

- Continuing on this train of thought, I went to see Lawrence of Arabia with mom and dad at the Paramount, during the course of which I warred against that very nemisis, Toxic Megacolon, in an historic bathroom. But here's the truth about that movie: I don't get it.

- Lastly, I have found out about a wonderful new activity. Once a month, a group of people gather at Fort Griffith State Park to star watch. Some people have enormous telescopes that they bring out and share. I cannot wait until next month because there is a supernova happening! I've been thinking about buying a good telescope kit but decided I shouldn't spend money, but just today I received an unexpected, enormous check from the city of Austin (I really don't know what it's for), so I might just do it. Dad got really excited when I asked if he'd help me build it. In preparation for my life as a stargirl, I've just returned from checking out several books at the library on astronomy, though I honestly don't expect my skills to advance beyond being able to identify the Big Dipper.

Space is just amazing.

This Week in Abilene...Week 2

2011-09-22T14:48:00.000-07:00

- Mom has taken us shopping serveral times for stuff for her office, much of it heavy. Dad and I have lifted, pushed, and carried furniture up 3 flights of stairs while mom told us what to do from a distance. After we finished, she would give a big sigh and say, "Well, I'm tired!"

- I took my 90-year old grandmother bra shopping.

- We also went to Dillards where she shopped exclusively for white pants and bedazzled denim apparel.

- I began picking up my 6th grade cousins, Steven and Drew, from school this week. So far, they have talked about girls being "hot," made fun of the one kid in gym class wearing tighty-whities, told me they had a read a vampire book called Dangerous Girls, and bragged - hard - about getting an ipad for their birthday. It thrills me that they're getting zits on their faces.

This Week in Abilene...Raining Lasers, Week 1

2011-09-20T00:40:00.000-07:00

Soon after moving back home, I decided to document my life as a 28-year old moving from the big city and back in with my parents in Abilene. This is done in weekly emails to my siblings, which I will post here, editing out, of course, embarrassing stories you must be actively privvy to my life to hear.

The adventure began on the final drive to Abilene where I alternately sobbed and blubbered for a large part of the trip. I kept thinking,

“What. Have I. Done??"

This is partially because I gave the decsion to move no meaningful consideration ahead of time, partially because my siblings are truly my favorite people, partly because I was just starting to put down roots and make friends only to move back where I know no one, but mostly because I have no one to watch Brendan Fraser movies with now.

I finally pulled myself together and plucked up once I recalled the sight of Billy "playing jazz flute" for Ann (the young woman with Down Syndrome Josey cares for). In fact, if you’re ever having a bad day, I recommend you ask Billy to do this for you. Anyhow, things got even better that first night, as this is the night I came to be standing on the front porch with my parents at 5:00 in the morning.

You see, around 5am, I was awakened by a bark from Tasty Pete and decided I would take the opportunity to go to the bathroom. I blindly felt my way to the door, opened it, and BAM! There was someone standing in the doorway staring at me. My blind eyes slowly made the figure out to be my own mother and my heart started beating again, though I could not fathom why she was standing righthtere in my doorway at 5am. Then, there was an excessively long silence in which she just looked at me. I think her eyes may have actually been glowing.

Suddenly, she began exclaiming in one of those excited whispers-that-ends-up-being-louder-than-normal-talking, “It’s raining! Let’s go look at the rain! I can‘t believe it, rain!” She then went to wake up dad, who responded with the Smith’s trademarked Very-Angry-Sleep-Awareness grumble. (You know the one…it’s like we’re trying to respond to human communication, but we’re stupid, violent ogres who can only grunt and growl.) When mom came back, she was truly like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Let’s go outside! It’s raaaaaainnnnnning!” So we all crowded onto the front porch to observe the rain. I mean, if there had been room, I’m pretty sure she’d have started twirling with her arms out, Julie Andrews Sound of Music Style.

Also this week, I learned that dad’s cousin played bass in Linda Ronstadt’s band and traveled all over the world with her. Apparently, this was at a time when laser shows came about and he became so interested in lasers that he began splitting his time between playing in the band and producing laser light shows for bands. Then, he went to school and got a fancy laser degree and then worked on the Star Wars initiative. After that, he moved to Colorado and now works for HP, which honestly, sounds like a letdown considering the rest of his life.

Hamilton Pool

2011-07-15T14:22:00.000-07:00

A few weekends ago we took the short trip to Hamilton Pool where I briefly made eye contact with a very large water snake.

Truly it was beautiful and unlike any place I've ever been. Just a short hike to get to a piece of God's handiwork tucked away in the middle of an awful drought.

It was lush and green and pristine. There were massive, mossy stalactites hanging all along the rim of the pool. It really felt like dinosaurs could emerge at anytime...

if you ignored the tiny beach and pool filled with swimmers equipped with beer coozies.

Here is one such dinosaur.

Unfortunately, my camera's autofocus isn't working well anymore, but we're going again this weekend, so I'll try again to capture it more accurately.

Summer Sights: Swimming Holes

2011-06-16T20:42:00.000-07:00

I've been in Austin almost 2 years and I really haven't done much exploring, which is a shame because there's so much to see around here. With my last day of work on Monday, and a school schedule preventing a vacation, I'm gearing up to see the sights in several mini trips. Obviously the lack of rain and month of scorching temperatures with no end in sight have shaped my destination choices this round.

1. We've been visiting Barton Springs during the free hour from 9-10pm. I dabble my feet in the frigid water and watch people doing tricks off the diving board and weird kids talking to themselves in the water. I haven't been swimming because it creeps me out when plants grab at my feet, especially in the dark, plus it's too cold, but soon I plan to defy the confines of my white skin and go during the middle of the day to get the full benefit of the cold water. Also, Josey and I are going to time how long it takes us to swim from one end to the other - it's 1000 feet long. I'm no swimmer, so I'm guessing it takes me at least 15 minutes.

The pool was used in the movie, Tree of Life

1,000 ft. That's like 3 football fields, right?

2. Hamilton Pool: We tried to go once before, but the pool was closed due to water quality. Also, they only let in so many people at a time, so you really have to plan carefully, but it looks worth it.

Also shot in Tree of Life

3. Krause Springs, Spicewood Springs, TX: It's privately owned, I hear it's spectacular, jungley, and also filled with cold, cold water.

4. Blue Hole, Wimberley, TX: Beautiful swimming hole surrounded by cypress trees. The city bought the property just a few years ago to prevent residential development in the area.

Literally Resting in The Room

2011-05-25T13:40:00.000-07:00

Imagine an overly warm, dank room with no ventilation. As you enter the gray room, you feel the air sit on your skin, and though you don't like it, the word "moist" fills your head. You close your eyes against the strangely bright florescent lights and listen to their soft buzz accompanied by peculiar sounds of quickly streaming water, the sound of rocks being dropped into pools of water, and the occasional deep sigh.

In this stiflingly muggy room, you find yourself lounging on an ancient vinyl chaise, surfing the web with your shoes off and feet firmly planted on the clammy gray floor in front of you. Now imagine stretching out for a nap on that sticky black chaise. As you settle in, positioning yourself with your face towards the wall - leaving the top of your t-shaped underwear hanging out of your jeans - your nose suddenly alerts you to the unmistakable fact that you are napping in a busy bathroom frequented by stressed out women.

Such conditions would seem to preclude the desire for a nap or leisurely web surfing, but a young lady has taken up just such a routine on Monday and Wednesdays, and I (and all the women who’ve encountered her) find her blasé attitude about the noble pursuit of education in a room where strangers rush to relinquish their wastes particularly bothersome. The lip-curling distaste for the chosen location of her bare-footed studies is compounded when one considers the lounge down the hall fully equipped with couches and a dearth of women defecating.

She has indeed taken the title of "restroom" literally.

Pied Beauty

2011-04-11T15:49:00.000-07:00

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

By Gerard Manley Hopkins

Joy In the Little Things

2011-04-06T13:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not the biggest fan of babies or of youtube videos. This is an exception. I was grumpy and wound-up after a stressful, crummy day when I stumbled upon this weird kid who warmed the cockles of my heart - especially seconds 23 - 40ish.

Roommates Needed to Maintain Lifestyle

2011-04-02T10:04:00.001-07:00

At long last, pictures of my house, for both posterity and for Jessica since she requested very long ago.

I have loved living in this house. I've never worried about roaches bombarding me when I walk in the door, my neighbors don't peep in my windows, it's quiet, it's small, it's sunny, and it's in a great neighborhood. It's the first place I've felt at home since moving out of my parents' house. All this of course means that it's too expensive. I'm pretty bummed about moving this summer and not looking forward to searching for a new place to live, especially as I've experienced the good life and am less willing to settle for critter-infested quarters in a loud, far-away corner of town.

Roommates and/or donations accepted.

South by Southwest

2011-03-17T11:33:00.000-07:00

South by Southwest is here.
That means I can hear a both a symphony and a punk band playing if I open my windows at work. It also means this place is a zoo.

The week starts relatively quietly with the technology/interactive and film fest. By mid-week when the music starts, things really pick up. The streets are flooded with 15-passenger vans and in the span of a few days, the average passer-by goes from an average college student to a hung-over androgynous 30-year old. Suddenly, everyone looks like they're in a band.

How do people in bands look? I will do my best to describe:
I will tell you first of all that it's confusing. Genderlessness is SO IN right now. Everyone is very slight, all around the same medium-short height, and they all have different versions of the same haircut. I call it the "youthful comb-over."

If they wear glasses, they're big, black and thick rimmed, sure to disguise any gender-hinting feature. And for that extra touch of man-lady-confusion, jeggings are generously deployed, giving even the skinniest of men the appearance of lumpy hips. Most look like they haven't bathed in 2 weeks and have covered great swathes of their body with tattoos.

By Friday, things are starting to unravel. Everyone looks like they haven't slept in days, and there is vomit on the sidewalks. As I head to work, people stagger onto the bus, heading home for the day, only to re-emerge at dark and repeat.

It's a massive ordeal and the amount of events scheduled is completely overwhelming.
There were actually bands playing in a CVS parking lot. That might be a sign that your festival is a little overgrown.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm headed out to pick up some Tylenol and a rock concert.

Big Tim Riggins and Hall Vomit

2011-03-09T22:00:00.000-08:00

Since I go to work at a different time this semester, the bus clientelle is mostly students, which means everyone is well-groomed. So lately, I've been lamenting how nice everyone looks and how I was never going to have new material for my bus blog. It suddenly hit me that of all the people on the bus in the past month, I should have been the bad-hair feature. The past few months, my hair has been an unmitigated disaster. Straight on the sides and curly everywhere else, poofy and stringy, tangled, rough, and ne're touched by a brush. In some places my curls are rolling up on themselves and making weird curl balls - which has never happened before. I feel like I'm back in 5th grade and I don't know how to take care of my hair.

Coinciding with this hair disaster has been the constant consumption of several tv shows, namely Studio 60 and Friday Night Lights. Now, I never really believed that tv actually influenced people to do stuff, but I'm here to tell you, it has proven to hold a great deal of power over me. Did I start abusing pain killers like Matt in Studio 60? Did I murder someone with a pipe like Landry Clark or sleep around like Tyra Collette? No. But each of these shows convinced me that I needed someone else's hair.

First, I decided I wanted Jordan McDeere's hair - her perfect, voluminous side-swept bangs and impeccable medium length hair. After trying to get my bangs like hers, I discovered that what I really wanted was her face.

Then Tami Taylor entered the scene and shoved Jordan McDeere right out of the styling chair. What with her perfect highlights, bouncy, natural locks, I knew it was for me. I already had the basic cut, so I set about figuring out how to do it.

BUT. Have you ever tried to use a blow drier and a brush at the same time?? It's like a mind puzzle. Especially when you're looking in the mirror and your hands don't move the right way. Plus, my blow drier kept overheating and turning off. So until I get some practice rounds under my belt and some better tools, I'll have to live with my old-wig-run-through-the-dishwasher-like hair.

As a side-note: I found out that the guy that plays Tim Riggins lives in Austin, and I think everyone can agree he's a total babe. Maybe someday I'll catch his eye with my Tami Taylor hair and we can ride through the hills of town on a motorcycle, our flowing locks blowing effortlessly in the wind.

But the reality of my life is that instead of freely riding in the wind, there is a guy silently throwing up in the recycling can directly across the hall from me. I was staring at him out of the corner of my eye and we made eye contact while he vomited. That is just something you don't do.

My life is gross.

Spring Awakening

2011-03-04T12:13:00.000-08:00

Ahh, spring in Austin; fresh new grass, red buds, plentiful sunshine, beautiful temperatures, and budding gardens replete with grotesque displays of flesh:

Welcome to warmer weather, G-String Cyclist! I don't know your name, but I'd like to know your tips on chaffing.

I thought about making a crack about him, but I think there's already plenty of that.

Losing My Grip

2011-03-01T11:00:00.000-08:00

The HEB by my house is fondly referred to as the "old person HEB." This store recently underwent a renovation, going so far as to rearrange everything in the store. During this time, the elderly patrons frequently sported baffled looks and could be seen shuffling to-and-fro, shaken out of their concisely planned shopping routines guaranteed to put the least mileage on their walkers. Frequently one would grab your arm, look pleadingly into your eyes and ask in a slightly frantic tone, "Can you please tell me where the rice is?"

And now, every time facebook upgrades, I find myself staring at the screen like an old person in HEB, wishing someone would point me to the rice.

I'm not yet even 30, but I can already feel myself losing my grasp on technology. Sometimes I have a hard time figuring out the functionality, and other times I just don't understand the point of it. And with that last statement, I have fully resigned myself to being an old person.

It first started with The Twitter. I still don't really "get" it, nor do I quite grasp "trending" and all the # stuff. My problems accelerated when I was thrown from a PC world into a work environment that uses only Macs. Suddenly, simple tasks like flipping between windows and locating documents became a struggle. And just yesterday, another idea I don't fully understand yet: Check-in apps announcing where you are at every moment of the day. I remarked to my father that life is becoming too easy for middle school and high school boys - they don't even have to work to figure out where the girl they're stalking is. He said, "That's because teenage boys are the ones developing the software."

And that's when it really sunk in: I am way past my technological prime. What once came naturally now requires great effort. The fluid ease with which "young people" inherently learn to use and incorporate new technologies is leaving me in the dust...or in the rubble of antiquated processors.

And with that, I'll kick start my series, "The Fact That I Now Refer to a Segment of the Population as "Young People" is Troubling: You kids Stay Off My Lawn!" This series will explore the issues of rapidly advancing technology and learning curves for those over 25.

It's gonna take a lot more than big buttons on a cell phone to keep me relevant.

Tasty Pete Strikes Again

2011-02-12T19:54:00.000-08:00

This time, he ate an entire tub of butter in the course of 3 minutes.

Before I dashed off to work, I quickly googled "what happens when dog eats butter" to prepare for what might await me when I returned home. The results were generic and certainly did not prepare me for the events to come, so I thought I would make a helpful guide for those who experience such an event.

What happens to a dog that eats an entire pound of butter?
1. He will throw up on your bed.
2. He will leave an enormous vomit-pile on your white shag rug.
3. For the next few days, smells will emanate from his body that can only be compared to what I imagine the inside of coffin on a July afternoon must smell like. They will actually wake you from sound sleep.
4. He will experience Extreme Urination, clinically defined as the use of both back feet for urination support due to lengthy duration of pee-stream and inability to stand on one leg for more than 30 seconds.

These results may seem quite unpleasant, but given that he has just eaten 2400 calories in under 3 minutes in the form of buttery spread, it's not so terrible. There is however, a silver lining to this densely-caloric cloud.

What's the good news for a dog that eats an entire pound of butter?
1. He will receive 1500% of his daily vitamin D in one sitting.
2. He will have eaten an excellent source of Omega-3 acids which support healthy cholesterol levels.
3. He'll have lustrous hair and you'll be able to grease cookie sheets with his tail.

Spooky.

2011-01-20T20:15:00.000-08:00

At 3am this morning, Pete ran into the living room and started barking ballistically. It happens upon occcasion, so I just waited for him to quiet down. Just as he stopped barking, I heard someone slowly walking through the crunchy leaves right outside my bedroom window. I flipped on the light and crouched on the far side of my bed while Pete paced and softly growled for another few minutes. I heard maybe 5-10 steps, what sounded like something being set down, and then silence.

When my heart started beating again, I grabbed my comforter and laid on the floor, hidden by my bed. I laid awake with the light on and Pete settled down until 5 when he got growly again.

While laying there sleepless, I rationalized that it was a possum or raccoon, but the footsteps sounded too heavy and didn't sound like a 4-legged creature. I came to the conclusion that someone might be sleeping back there.

A few times before, I've noticed little things in my yard that weren't there before, but I never thought too much about it aside from taking stock of how many great places there are to take shelter in my yard. The grate over the crawl space under the house has been pulled out several times, which I always figured critters pulled out, but as I put it back each time, I thought about how it would be a pretty great place to sleep. There's also a little niche in the corner of the yard where the fence, the house, and the air conditioner meet that would be a great place to sleep. And the neighbors conjoining yard has a tiny pink shed that I've totally imagined sleeping in.

These are the important things with which my mind is filled.

Andy rationalized that it was probably an animal and not a person who decided to take shelter in a stranger's backyard or a prowler who decided to scope out the smallest house he could find within 3-square miles, but I'm making him spend the night tonight anyway. Because it was spooky. And because my yard is a veritable treasure trove of secluded hiding spots for anyone seeking shelter.

Mrs. Karissa Radin

2010-11-30T13:23:00.000-08:00

It all started when Karissa had a dream that she married Joshua Radin.

So we bought tickets for the concert and she came down for the weekend.

Good Old War opened. Fun group to watch and not half bad.

Then Joshua Radin played to a crowd of screaming girls and middle aged couples. His personality weirded me out, but he put on a good performance.

Then, Karissa thought she had realized her dreams when she got to meet him. Sadly, she was actually awestruck and couldn't say anything.

Fall Day

2010-11-29T11:34:00.000-08:00

Jewelled spider.

I am really enjoying having a backyard.

Austin Art Car

2010-11-28T11:07:00.000-08:00

This is the self-labeled "Austin Art Car." I took this picture months ago while it was parked, but today I had the pleasure of seeing this car in motion; plastic doll hair stiffly flapping in the wind.

Movie Date

2010-11-14T14:00:00.000-08:00

After it rains here, the toads down by the creek really get to croaking loudly. They sound funny, like hoarse people trying to shout. I went to the creek with the dog and sat there listening to the toads hollering. Whilst there, several large bugs brought alive by the recent rain flew at my head. Naturally. Because bugs always aim for my gigantic white face.

After a while, I went home and watched an entire movie. I got ready for bed, took my hair down and fluffed it out with my fingers. I brushed my teeth. Put in my retainer and tested out my lisp-level. I flopped down on my bed, my hair a'swinging, and - as if you need another reason to be jealous of me - PLOP! Out falls this big guy:

He'd been hanging out with me all evening; watching the movie, sharing laughs and popcorn and I didn't even know he was there save for a slight tickle on my head in the middle of the movie.

Sufjan Stevens Concert

2010-11-13T11:02:00.000-08:00

For my birthday, Andy bought tickets for the Sufjan Stevens concert. His old music was folksy, like this:

But now, it's like this:

Andy played me a few songs before the concert and it sounded like a hot electronic mess. I went to the concert bracing myself for several hours of loud, cluttered musical agony. Instead...

It. Was. Amazing.

I think I may have actually been entranced. And that's coming from a person who does not like loud things, loosely structured music, or electronic noise, which is entirely what this concert was.

Foul-Mouthed Friday

2010-11-12T11:04:00.000-08:00

The past three Fridays at 12:58pm, an out-of-breath woman stands in front of the elevator down the hall, paces, and swears non-stop until the elevator arrives. And it's a slow elevator.

Though she uses just the basic swears, she manages to string them together and spew them in a manner so foul, so angry, and so hateful, that I'm pretty sure she could make a hardened prison inmate blush.

I am seriously afraid of her.
But today, her hideous fury got the best of my curiosity. I peeked at her from around the corner to see what could possibly make someone so impatient and furious at an elevator. Just a lady in her early 60s with a red turtleneck and frizzy gray hair.

I think I'll walk by her next week and see what happens. Maybe if I'm really bold I'll get into the elevator with her and give her a plate of homemade cookies and see what happens.

The Social Network

2010-10-30T09:34:00.000-07:00

The movie The Social Network about the guy who started facebook is good. So good.

Not only does the film deal with subjects singularly so mind-numbing that I would rather eat moldy cheese than watch a movie about them - computer programming, corporate law, and 22-year old millionaires, but it combines them and turns them into a completely engrossing story.

My favorite part of the movie were the Winklevoss twins (or the Winklevi to which they're referred). Throughout the movie, I marvelled at how they were able to find a set of twins who were both such good actors - they were real scene-stealers. It turns out, they used the same guy, Armie Hammer (real name), for both twins, digitally imposing his head on a body double. It must be noted that on top of portraying the Winklevoss characters with great aplomb, he's a total babe.

Two complaints about the movie:
1) The digital effects making steam come out of the actors' mouths to make it look cold was so fake. More than appearing cold, it looked like they had miniature steam engines venting through their lips. Their mouth-air completely upstaged what they were saying.

2) The way they portrayed Mark Zuckerberg creating facebook to get a girl was WEAK. As this was also Zuckerberg's main point of contention with the movie, I felt they should have dropped this storyline altogether.

All-in-all a great, well-written movie about some seriously smart, ambitious, and sympathetic jerks who all become millionaires/billionaires before the age of 22.

Buscapades

2010-10-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

My skill of making-my-life-sound-more-entertaining-than-it-actually-is has vanished.

The flip side is that I've found great entertainment in riding the bus to work and school everyday, prompting me to start a new blog where I run a series of bus experiences and photos.

Check it out!

The Wheels on the Bus...

(Suggestions for a better name welcomed.)

Cool Neighbors

2010-10-14T11:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as I was walking the dog, I passed a house shrouded by bushes. The few times I’ve walked by this place, I’ve heard people visiting on the front porch. This time a dog ran out from the bushes and I heard the owners half-heartedly calling after their dog. Then they saw Pete’s size and how he was flipping out over their dog and came running to catch it.

These guys were pretty close approximations of Matthew McConaughey. They talked like him, they were super casual, friendly, and tan, and they threw the word “sweetheart” around like it was second nature. After our brief encounter, they invited me to drop back by for a beer.

Too bad I don’t like beer. Had they invited me back for Sweet Leaf mint & honey green tea, I totally would’ve gone.

More Guns, Less Sanity

2010-09-28T12:14:00.000-07:00

On the way to school today, a guy shot at some cars, around campus, and eventually shot himself on the 6th floor of the library. There were reports of an accomplice who was hiding in the small building I work in. Thankfully, no one else was hurt and I was at my school and not at work when it happened.

So, here are some observations on watching the event unfold:

1) With so many different ways to get information from so many different sources so quickly, news (and rumors) spread unbelievably fast. It was all anyone was talking about. It's sad that it's usually the extreme and bad events that so intensely capture our attention. I think about all the energy and emotion that pours out and how useful that would be if it could be used for productive purposes.

2) People always want to know more. As I sat in class, the girl next to me spent the whole 3 hours checking news sites, emailing/texting/twittering, and interrupting class to tell what was going on, to the point that it was ridiculous. We were supposed to be working on problems together, at which point i considered closing her laptop on her hands and telling her to focus.

3) The emergency services were super prepared and everything was very orderly. The SWAT team rolled in in armored vehicles/tanks and helicopters swathed the area, and while it's a good thing to be prepared, seeing such bold statements of enforcement tends to set off a panic/overreaction mode.

4) The library has detectors to prevent you from stealing books, but an AK-47 can get through with no problems.

5) Author John Lott was scheduled to speak at the Law School today on his book, More Guns, Less Crime. And after all of this, he's still speaking tonight!

Stereotyping Monday and Generic Blog Posts

2010-09-27T07:17:00.001-07:00

When I woke up at 8 am this morning, I was 3 hours late. I'd already missed an appointment to get my haircut and distantly missed the bus for school. The class I was missing happens to be the class in which I have absolutely no idea what is going on, and late last night as I was staring at my homework, struck stupid with frustration, I got an email from the TA saying everything I've turned in has been based on the wrong questions because I have a different edition of the textbook. And I have to redo everything. After buying another expensive book. By Wednesday.

So, after I stopped feeling horrible I decided to carpe this diem.

It's slightly chilly outside, so I took the dog for a long walk down Shoal Creek, my favorite street, and enjoyed not sweating for the first time in 4 months. I cut my own bangs without too much detriment, and now who knows? Maybe I'll cut my fingernails.

Mach 5

2010-09-26T10:27:00.000-07:00

A few weekends ago, dear Nathan McKenzie came for a visit.

We went to Mozart's on Lake Travis and listened to a great band playing surf music, and because our plans to go kyaking were ruined by weather, we put a considerable amount of time into stalking Kyle Chandler (from Friday Night Lights), including driving by both of his listed residences outside of town. We also sat quietly and read for a few hours, we ate delicious Indian food outside at G'Raj Majal, and we went to an improv show. In between, we laughed so hard that:
1) we didn't remember what we were laughing about
2) it became weird for the people who were with us
3) it kind of hurt.

Nathan has the most insane laugh I've ever heard. It's called Mach 5, and once it starts, it cannot be stopped.

Someday, I'm going to capture Nathan's laughter and sell it. I'll be rich and the world will be happier.

Note: If you ever want to hear an impression, I can do a fairly decent one, although it has to be performed outdoors.

Classless

2010-09-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

I’m taking an online class and our first assignment was to introduce ourselves to our small group, tell about ourselves, talk about our interests, our hobbies, etc, and then begin conversing with each other.

I wrote up my introduction stating that I don’t have a focus yet because everything is interesting, I talked about what my random jobs have been the past few years, my family, my dog, and then listed some of the things I like: car trips, puns and jokes, being outside, etc.
Then I read everyone else’s introductions.

My group consists of 2 doctors, one almost-doctor, a vet, and one other very articulate, driven person. So I already realize I’m the black sheep. While my likes consisted of jokes and car trips, they like things like treating children in acute care in Botswana, examining the genetic regulation of the steroidogenic enzyme, aldosterone synthas, and someone actually used a word that started with a z and had 3 consecutive “o”s.

Clearly, I am going to be the lighthearted one in the group.

2010-07-03T22:38:00.000-07:00

I went to visit Jessica in Louisianna and we were planning on going canoeing on Black Bayou, but we got there too late, so we walked on nature trails.

And she drove me around the dumpy parts of town.

And I loved it.

Valentine's Day

2010-07-02T19:00:00.000-07:00

On Valentine's Day, I decided to show Pete how much I loved him, so I straightened his hair.

As I recall, this is the only thing I did this day.

I can safely say, I haven't ever wasted time in such a meaningless way.

Rewind!

2010-07-01T20:32:00.000-07:00

This is what has happened since Christmas:

This is my family's idea of a joke. It's how mom keeps people from eating her ingredients.

It snowed. You know who loves snow? This handsome guy. It really brings out the best in him.

Just look at him!

He earned his keep for an entire year by running full tilt at Josey and ripping the plastic bags off her shoes, knocking her off her feet.

Before she could get up, he made a second pass and pulled off her boots, drug her through the yard, and left her to crawl into the house, shoeless.

Nothing puts me in the Christmas spirit quite like a shoeless girl taking a tumble..

School Daze

2010-06-22T14:34:00.000-07:00

Come fall, I'll be attending the University of Texas School of Public Health working on a master's degree in public health with an emphasis in epidemiology.

It was pretty exciting thinking about going to school and applying and waiting to hear back. It was still exciting when I got the acceptance letters and chose my school. However once I got the paperwork, the reality of what I'm in for took away the fun.

I'm in for a shock after having a wildly leisurely year, where the most academic thing I've done is word searches.

I'm sure school will be enjoyable, and the strict structure of a busy schedule will be good for me, but it'll be a big adjustment.

"First Day" of Summer

2010-06-21T14:25:00.000-07:00

I want to know where in the northern hemisphere that June 21st is the first day of summer. I understand summer solstice is based on the sun and orbit and all that stuff, but everywhere I've lived, summer weather starts in April at the latest.

It's been a comparatively mild summer so far, and I'm proud to say I've made it through the first 33% of summer without displaying embarrassing sweat marks in public!

Though I doubt that record is sustainable through the next 3 1/2 months of hot, I'm going to give it my best. I may have to pack my pits with tissue.

I've Got the Ivory Blues

2010-04-13T18:27:00.000-07:00

Whiter than an albino bunny; brighter than fresh driven snow; more transparent than great glaciers, but equally as blue - the “Ol’ Ivory Blues.” My legs.

Not white, but instead completely devoid of colors visible to the human eye, save a faint bluish tint, they’re not your typical pasty legs. What I’m about to tell you is going to sound like an exaggeration but it’s not: when I put on shorts for the first time this season, went into the sunlight and glanced down at my legs, my eyes actually started watering. It’s not quite like looking into the sun, but close.

Normal pale-skinned people have to wear sunscreen. However, my legs are so bright that they, in fact, reflect light. Sunbathers beware: if you’re hoping to soak up some rays, you should stay far away because the Ivory Blues will bounce back all sunrays within a 10 ft. radius.

I like to think that had I been around in Bible times, Moses would have asked me to use my phosphorescent legs as replacements for the burning pillars that lead the Israelites through the night. When I finally came to grips with the fact that leading thousands of people out of the desert wasn’t part of my destiny, I began to wonder how I could make the Ivory Blues work for me.

To date, I’ve had a few offers from pre-eminent environmental scientists and engineers to use my legs as a prototype for radiant heat shields to slow global warming. I’m also currently being recruited as a guide for a major cave system, thereby ending the need for pesky headlamps on popular spelunking tours.

In a place where many people have matched their skin to UT’s burnt orange trademark, glacier-colored legs are in surprisingly high demand, as everything else pales in comparison!

Monster Trucks in Micro-Machine City

2010-03-24T20:22:00.000-07:00

Since it was founded, the population in Austin has doubled every 20 years. And, for all the great things about this city, the traffic can be atrocious. Usually when I think of traffic, I think of jammed interstates, but here traffic is worse through the middle of town. This is why:

In what I assume was an effort to facilitate heavy traffic, the city took average-sized two lane streets and bisected them, creating tiny 4 lanes fit for nothing larger than a Barbie car. Granted, given an unflinching driving pattern, lots of mutual trust, and former experience as a Blue Angels pilot, two Honda Civics can fit side by side on such a road. The side mirrors will be knocked off, but it is physically possible. And since you're so close to each other, when you successfully reach a stop light, you can reach out and high-five the navy pilot navigating the other car.

However, should you have the unfortunate experience to find yourself driving next to anything larger than a go-cart, you are in serious trouble. Should a large vehicle zoom up next to you, you may well find yourself suddenly sitting in a Suburban’s passenger seat staring into the eyes of the surprised driver. Alternately, in avoidance of a complete vehicular meld with a Suburban, you will find yourself driving on the sidewalk. This will, of course, terrify all pedestrians and cyclists, causing them to fear they will have to begin wearing full body armor just to get to work.

Snow Day

2010-02-24T07:45:00.000-08:00

It snowed gigantic snowflakes yesterday and it stuck to the ground! And by stuck to the ground, I mean what you see in this picture. This is the grand total of snow. I mean, I probably have more dandruff than this.

School was delayed today, and because I didn't have the imagination to dream that this minuscule amount of snow could cause problems, I went to work on time only to find the campus deserted.

This is Austin

2010-02-14T15:27:00.000-08:00

This appeared on our way to get hot chocolate this afternoon.

Work: The Job

2010-01-28T13:02:00.001-08:00

I knew I was going to like my job when, on the first day, my boss used the word, "soporific."

Auld Lame Syne

2010-01-01T14:14:00.000-08:00

Good riddance 2009. You've been a real fart.

Treat me like a lady, 2010.

As God as My Witness, I Better Not Be Jobless Again

2009-12-23T23:15:00.000-08:00

Praise God! I finally have a job. I'm working part time as the Graduate Coordinator in the Comparative Literature department at UT. After applying at more than 50 places and finding that, on average, 200-400 people had also applied, I had run out of hope. When Hertz Rent-a-Car doesn't want you behind the counter, you start to doubt yourself.

After seven months of unemployment, here is what I've learned:

1. Being unemployed is GREAT.
There is nothing you have to get up for, no being stuck inside on beautiful afternoons, no sharing thermostats with hot-flashing-menopausal women, morning tooth brushing is optional, and when the three o'clock sleepies roll in, naps can freely happen. It's a wonderful thing to be free. I may have spent five years studying the politics of our country, but only now do I appreciate why the Declaration of Independence is "such a big deal."

2. Being unemployed is TERRIBLE.
There is nothing you have to get up for. It is crushing to find a job you are highly/overly qualified for, spending hours artfully crafting the perfect mix of corporate lingo and lies in a cover letter - in the process becoming hopeful about your chances - and calling to find out that every human being who has ever received an English degree wants to be an assistant to the mail clerk as much as you do. It's hard coming to terms with the fact that all the hard work and achievements of the past eight years of your life aren't worth much of anything.

3. Being unemployed is AIMLESS.
Without a careful plan, aimlessness quickly settles in. Being aimless is only fun for a few days until you realize that you're basically turning into a Paris Hilton with less money, but with a soul. No one wants to feel useless. Even the places I tried to volunteer didn't need me.

4. Being unemployed is LONELY.
Working forced me to interact with people I would, at first blush, go to great lengths to avoid. Though I didn't realize it until recently, spending time with work-weirdos is vital to my social stability and is way better than being left alone by myself because, as it turns out, I am by far the most annoying person I know.

5. Being unemployed is EXPENSIVE.
Financial experts recommend having about 3 months of emergency savings. I am here to tell you if you have a liberal arts degree and live in Austin, the locus of every educated, unemployed, free-thinking, 20-40-something in the western hemisphere, you should have at least a year of savings or be prepared to sleep under a bridge. Money is easy if you have it and hard if you don't. It's hard not to worry about not having enough. It's doubly hard to watch people begging once you realize you could just as easily be in their position.

I'm so grateful to have a job, even part time. I may have to give up eating, but I'll have money for rent, a little bit of purpose each day, plenty of unusual people to interact with, and a little freedom left over.

Starry Eyed

2009-12-08T12:00:00.000-08:00

Let it be known: I love space.

I love the mystery and scariness of it. No amount of inpenetrable, steely Star Trek ships conquering the universe can sterilize the wonderment of it for me.

In mid-November Andy, Scott, and I drove out to watch the Leonid Meteor Shower. I saw several handfuls of meteors before we left. I could have stayed all night.

Along the same lines, only dorkier, I downloaded Google Sky Map for my phone. It maps out the sky so you can know what you're looking at. You can even search for stuff and it will point you in the right direction.

The next big meteor shower is December 13/14. This time I'll be prepared for the cold and prepared to be dazzled. Maybe I'll identify some heavenly bodies while I wait. [insert joke about readers' heavenly bodies]

Get Out of My Dreams and Into My Car

2009-12-07T13:25:00.000-08:00

This is the story about the time I got into the wrong car:

It was cold; dusk had just fallen. Underdressed, I walked quickly ahead of the group to the car. The others were wandering down the wrong parking isle. In a hurry to get into the warm car, I called out with a grand wave, “Over here!”

Like magic, the car unlocked. Amazed and pleased by Josey’s unusual promptness, I opened the door and plopped down. As I was about to close the door, I had the strange feeling something wasn’t quite right; an empty coke can on the floor, a different arrangement of crumbs. Just then, three strangers appeared at the car, laughing and looking a little concerned. Before I could connect the pieces, the driver told me gently - and laughingly - that this was, indeed, her car. I thanked them for the ride and got out of their car, my original grand wave replaced by a sheepish flick of the hand.

I crossed the isle to the real car and waited for other people to get in to assure myself I had the correct vehicle.

Even now, it’s hilarious. I keep replaying how confidently I called out, letting everyone know I had found the car; the strangers' expressions as they watched a strange girl get into their car as soon as they unlocked it. I hope they get some mileage out of telling that story.

The Best People I Know

2009-11-30T13:27:00.000-08:00

Heather and Jessica came down a few weeks ago and served as my first visitors in Austin!

We got off to a rocky start on Saturday morning when we discovered my cranky old neighbors had Heather's car towed. For no reason.

We didn't let it spoil our day, though. We went to a place called The Trailer Park which is a collection of trailers that sell food. Heather watched the line at the cupcake stand for about an hour, marveling at how the line never went down. When we finally got in line she said, "I feel like I'm becoming part of something great!" That is one of the reasons I love Heather.

Then we went to Mt. Bonnell to watch the sun set. It's cliffs and rocky stuff in the middle of the city. Though my pictures don't show it, it's quite pretty.

Then, we went to Kick Butt Coffee where I hoped to see workers in kimonos using nun-chuks. Instead, there was live music that was so perfectly mediocre it was terrible. The lady drove in from Dallas to play at a small coffee shop and Jessica was the only one who even took her free cd....which was thrown away when we got home.

We ate dinner, went to a norebong, and tried to photograph the security guard on a suped-up segway at the HEB by my house.

The weekend wasn't as action-packed as I had hoped due to my poor planning, but I was so glad to be with friends again, if only for a short time. I had almost forgotten how fun it is to be with people who understand and are completely at ease with each other. My dream is that they will both move here after they graduate this spring/summer. (If you guys are reading this, no pressure [but think about it!].)

Apocolypto Pete Turns Two

2009-11-17T09:00:00.000-08:00

He's got more personality than I ever bargained for. He's more stubborn than the average 3-year old. And he's smarter than most 14-year old boys.

Tasty Pete is officially two. In theory, he should be done with his destructive puppy-ways. What better way to commemorate his first two years than to recount the destruction left in his wake?

Taken from an email from Josey, the following excerpt is a perfect example of what I encounter on a daily basis:

"P.S. An unbelievable pile of destruction awaits your arrival in the living room."

Laughing in our faces.

Here is an abridged list of the things Pete has destroyed:

- Toilet brushes. These are his all-time favorite chew toys. I now buy them instead of bones. They double as a toothbrush.

- My debit card.

- THE WALL(s).

- Four pairs of eyeglasses (so expensive!) and at least 5 pairs of sunglasses.

- A screen door...at 3 different residences - one time pulling the frame off the track and into the yard.

- At least 14 bars of soap and 23 razors.

- Seemingly hundreds of pairs of underwear and bras.

- Books, magazines, newspapers, Kleenex, and enough toilet paper to swab the Eastern seaboard.

- My retainer and retainer case (so expensive! and a fine antidote for the orthodontist)

- Several packages of thumbtacks. He opened a package of 360 tacks and sprinkled them in a fine, even layer all over my bedroom.

- Miscellaneous items: incense, a sock monkey, The Word of God, and several Boxcar Children

Though it can be disheartening to come home and find hundreds of rice noodles covering the house, there are some funny stories:

- One day I wandered into the bedroom to find him sprawled on the floor with a box of Q-Tips at his feet, which he was munching out of like a bag of chips. He was actually making the Cookie Monster sound, "Ohmmm nommm nommm nommmm," with q-tips hanging off his chin and out the sides of his lips.

- Another time, he grabbed an Arby's bag in the apartment parking lot without my noticing. As I drove along, I started smelling the succulent, enticing aroma of roast beef. I turned around to find Pete lunching on part of an Arby's sandwich and squirting Arby's sauce all over the backseat of my brand new car.

Here are Pete's favorite tricks:

1. Pinch biting, crotch biting and bootie bites.

2. Chasing our neighbor - recovering from back surgery and using a walker - down the street.

3. Uprooting my mother's prized plant. I can't find the pictures of him rolling in the dirt on the living room floor.

4. Pulling dish towels - laden with bowls, plates, and glasses - off the counter and quietly running away when the dishes shatter.

5. Uprooting my mother's prized plant again and then dancing on my mother's beloved cream couch with giant muddy paws. This one was a real doozy. Josey and I spent hours cleaning up after this one. Also, my mother does not know about this. Please do not tell her.

6. Pinch biting

7. Pinch biting

8. Pinch biting

Despite all this, at the end of the day when he takes a flying leap into your lap, crushing several organs, the mangled shoes, shattered dishes, and littered apartment all fade away as you catch wafts of the fresh, soapy scent of his beard and struggle to breathe.

Come on, it's Diwali!

2009-10-30T14:25:00.000-07:00

A while back, Andy, Billy, Scott, Josey, and I went to a Diwali festival at UT.

Before I went to the festival, everything I knew about Diwali came from The Office.

After attending the festival, everything I know about Diwali comes from The Office.

I could deduce absolutely nothing about what was happening because it was in another language and I'm pretty sure we missed most of it. There were, however, lots of candles and pretty girls with shiny hair and beautiful saris and a stage where people were singing/chanting without shoes on.

Also, it was really crowded and I kept accidentally stepping on a girl's sari that had come undone. After she had been yanked backwards a few times, she started laughing and wrapped it up again.

Then, fireworks started!

I Saw the Sign

2009-10-14T13:33:00.000-07:00

Here are a few funny signs that I've collected the past few months:

#1 "I'm sorry Wayna. Please take me back. Call me."
Regretably, the only picture we got of this one is on Josey's cell phone. There were hundreds of these posted with hot pink duct tape on - quite literally - every post on our side of town.

Now, I don't know who Wayna is, but I can't imagine that her ex's approach to appologizing went over so well, seeing as he had about about 12,300 people laughing at them.

#2 - All You Need Is Love

What a nice message.

#3 - A Real Dairy Queen Doozy

Dairy Queen has never been at the top of my dining list, and after this image, it never will.

Our House

2009-10-05T08:44:00.000-07:00

Josey and I live in a condo called "Quail Village." (I think I'm cosmically drawn to animal villages because in Korea, I lived in "Squirrel Village.")

The condo set has tennis courts and a pool, and there's a creek, park, and jogging/bike trail just around the corner. It's a very ethnically diverse neighborhood with Pakistani/Indian restaurants, Tejano clubs, tons of Mexican restaurants, and sizeable Chinatowns and Koreatowns to the north and south. The other dominant population of people are the homeless/insane/beggars that live across the street. I can hear them yelling on most days.

Quail Village is a set of condos filled mostly with old people. I've met a few neighbors and they've been absolutely delightful. There's even a "condo gossip" named Linda that makes the old men neighbors roll their eyes at the mere mention of her name.

Here is the entryway:

Filled with things to get rid of.

Living room:Stairs:Kitchen:Patio off kitchen: It's about twice this size. Hopefully, we'll grow a garden.

My room:

I have a huge closet that runs about half the length of the room. It's so big, I thought about putting my desk in there, but it gets really hot.

View out my window:

Josey's huge room:

That is one ubiquitous dog.

Since real estate companies are weird in that they want their tenants to be A) employed and B) making decent money rather than living off their meager savings, we had to tell some whoppers to get this house. It involved one of Andy's friends pretending that we worked for him and made lots of money doing so. Though I don't generally support lying, it was totally worth it so I didn't have to live with Hairy Andy and the Vegetarians anymore.

Quail Village is definitely the nicest place I've ever lived, and though I was initially made nervous by the homeless pot smokers across the street, I'm becoming familiar with the usuals. In fact, I figure I should start befriending them, seeing as I will soon become one of them if I don't find a job soon.

Buggin' Out

2009-09-30T13:56:00.000-07:00

Something about Austin vs. Abilene: There are living creatures here.

In our side yard there are raccoons and at night cute little frogs hang out on the sidewalk and make un-cute screeching noises. On the front window, we have an honest-to-goodness lizard with a puffing throat that makes no noises. On our back porch, we had multiple hornet nests. (Thanks to Josey for bravely extinguishing them by squirting them from the back door, screaming, and slamming the door.)

In our living room is a giant white dog that cautiously walks on the hard floors like an old man teetering over ice. It’s hilarious.

And, in my bedroom, we have bugs. And by bugs, I mean bugs the size of small birds.

Last night, I was on the floor putting some shelves together when one of these behemoths landed right in front of me:

It was like this. Only not conveniently bagged and frozen.

The thing must have weighed 1/8th of a pound. I don’t know where it came from. I don’t even know where one of those could hide. I mean, an efficiency apartment for that thing would be the size of a child’s Playschool kitchen. After overcoming a brief paralysis, I thankfully realized I had a hammer at my immediate disposal. Granted, I had to turn the hammer on its side in order to do more than tap the thing on the shoulder. It was GIGANTIC. And soon, it was in three pieces.

A good five minutes later, its legs were still trying to turn the body over. That’s not an exaggeration. My imagination was a little afraid it might succeed and then wander around recklessly headless, crashing into my legs, sobbing and stumbling before collecting his body parts and scampering under the bed to get himself together.

I know if my mother was here she would say, "It's just a waterbug that accidentally wandered inside." All I can hope is that he was the last of a dying clan. Please, please let him be the last one.

***Update: Disgusting. I just found out this bug is known in polite society as a "Palmetto bug" or in reality, an American Cockroach. And mom, it turns out that waterbugs ARE cockroaches.

Doing My Best to Keep Austin Weird

2009-09-29T12:02:00.000-07:00

I have officially moved to Austin! I'll post pictures of our home when I find my camera.

For now, I would like to dispel a common misconception about Austin:
Austinians (Austinites? Austains?) are not so much “cool” or “artsy” as they are weird. And unkempt/unwashed. I really enjoy the notion that my lazy personal grooming habits are now accepted – embraced even – by the general population. The fact that I rarely shower or brush my hair and frequently wear wrinkled and/or holey t-shirts is no longer a disgusting social aberration, it’s fitting in!

I love that there isn’t pressure to be pretty, to be successful, or to dress nicely or have nice things - it really works out perfectly for me.

However, I don’t like the fact that you’re a downer if you have ever shopped at a chain store, you secretly like pop songs, or you maybe like Taco Bell every now and then.

Though I won’t completely fit in until I stop wearing deodorant, become dirty tan, get some tattoos, and pull my dog in a child carrier behind my bike, I think I’ll like it okay here.

I actually saw this! Only it was an actual child carrier.

We have plenty of room. Come visit!!

Summer!

2009-08-16T22:31:00.001-07:00

Allow me to summarize the events of this summer:

1. Went to Disney World

2. Quit my job

3. Went to some weddings

4. Visited family in Kentucky

5. Drove to Canada and visited fun people and visited more fun people in Dallas on the way home

In between, I have vaguely and vainly looked for jobs.

Tomorrow I am cleaning the grout in the kitchen...and maybe shaving the dog's legs.

Fun people, minus the one taking the picture

Rollin' With My Homies

2009-03-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

For all the complaining I do about my job, I think there are very few places where I would have the opportunity to convince my co-worker to roll through the parking lot in a tube during office hours.

Step 1: Convince Nathan to get in tube.

Step 2: Shove tube down slope. Pointing and laughing is appropriate.

Step 3: Check for vomit.

Gross.

2009-03-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

Warning: This story is incredibly gross. Maybe one of the grossest of all time. If you don't like potty humor or poop stories, you should stop reading now. For those of you who secretly find gross stories hilarious, which I suspect is more common than not, this story is one for the ages.

When Pete was a puppy and had accidents in the house, Josey would always throw his poop in the toilet instead of in the dumpster. Sometimes, she liked to surprise me by not flushing. This grossed me out to no end and I always told Josey she shouldn't put his mess in the potty.

Fast forward to today when Josey calls me at work and tells me the following story:

"Pete had a gigantic accident in the living room today, and it was particularly rank, so I scooped it all up in a plastic bag and put it in the toilet. I tried to flush it but it wouldn't go down because there was too much. I had to put my hand in a plastic bag, reach in, and scoop some of it out. It still wouldn't flush so I had to scoop stuff out THREE TIMES before I could get it to go down. All the while, it was further disolving in the water. All I could think about was you telling me not to put his poop in there.
And some got on my hands.
And I did it in your bathroom."

You know what? It was worth her using my bathroom for gross purposes if only to hear that story.

Also, my toilet does not currently work, but I don't even care because of the picture I have of Josey, be-bagged, on her hands and knees, desperately scooping mushy poop.

Why Not?

2009-02-09T13:43:00.000-08:00

I am a maximizer. If I hear a song I like on the radio, I first have to check the other presets to see if there is a song I like better before I am satisfied to listen to the original song. If I find something I want to buy, I have to check every store in town to find the best price and best version of the item. I spend lots of time and effort making the most banal decisions, and even after I've made them, I fret about whether I made the best choice.

It's different than being a perfectionist in that a perfectionist looks back with satisfaction and says, "Yeah. I did good," whereas a maximizer looks back with regret and wonders whether they really did the best they could. For me, I feel that there is always one "right" decision and everything else is the the wrong choice, and I will not rest until I've found that right answer.

For the small decisions, being a maximizer is not that big of a deal. I realize that if I don't make a decision, I will soon reach the point of diminishing returns, i.e. I will miss the song on the radio, I will spend more money driving around finding the perfect item than I would have saved in the end, etc. However, when it comes to the big decisions - where to invest my money, where to live, buying a car, etc., being a maximizer is torture as often there is no "right" answer.

The past few months I've been wallowing in indecision about jobs, school, Peace Corps, where to live, and various combinations of all four. The compulsion to make the "right" decision has paralyzed me from making any decisions at all. Then, this weekend, advice came at the most unexpected times.

First, Todd and I were chatting about Peace Corps and he said, "I figure, why not? Why wouldn't I do it? What possible reason do I have not to?" BAM.

The next day, I received information about a scholarship opportunity in a field I am sort of interested in. I was waffling and shifting about the pros and cons of applying when Andy said, "Why don't you just apply for it and see what happens. Why not?" BAM.

Their words have pervaded my thoughts the past few days. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. There's no "right" decision, so why drive myself crazy trying to find it? Why not take a risk? Why not just start trying stuff and see where it leads? Why not take advice from 23-year-old boys?

Why not?

Four Things From December

2008-12-16T19:29:00.001-08:00

Here are some goings on:

I just finished reading The Year of Living Biblically. The agnostic author, A.J. Jacobs, decides to follow the Bible as literally as possible for one year. He chronicles his year and the changes he notices in himself. It's honest, hilarious, and slightly touching. Read it on your Christmas break. It's got me thinking.

Grandmother turned 88! We went to, of course, Perini Ranch and watched her spit on the cake. She didn't blow out a single candle this year. She did manage to get icing on her face, though.

My new co-worker, Todd, has encouraged me to embrace movie soundtracks - the genre I abandoned once I hit seventh grade, too embarrassed to admit that I loved Dancing With Wolves and Field of Dreams scores. I'm a little ashamed to say, I like them more than ever. Particularly the composer Thomas Newman, the man responsible for making me cry in Wall-E -against my better judgement - with his wrenching tunes.

Also, Todd is the only person I know who has the reoccurring dream that his teeth fall out. We looked it up. It means we're insecure. Apropos to Todd, we looked it up on http://www.bellaonline.com/ and got this quote, which will no doubt live on in infamy in our insecure little hearts:

"Sometimes teeth fall out, sometimes they are simply missing, sometimes they
crumble away. Whichever way they make their exit, the dreamer is left with
not only a gap in her smile, but a hole in her heart when she awakens."

Skin Deep

2008-09-27T07:28:00.000-07:00

Periodically, I find a self-grooming product that I find particularly beneficial.

Today I present to you the skin care product L'Oreal Acne Response.

I think L'Oreal must have made a deal with the devil because this stuff is great. Not only did it help clear up and smooth out my skin, but it got rid of the dry flakey areas and the super oily areas. BOOM. Get some.

A Billion is a Big Number

2008-09-27T06:29:00.000-07:00

700,000,000,000

700 BILLION dollars.

A BILLION. That doesn't even sound like a real word, let alone can I even comprehend what that means. Further, how is it possbile to have 700 of that incomprehensible billion?

That is enough money to give every single person on earth more than $100. All to try and fix the terrible decisions made by a handful of people.

Here are the questions I would like to ask:

1. Where is all that money going to come from?

2. Really. Is this actually going to help anything?

3. We are a capitalist country. If we live and thrive off of the capitalist system, shouldn't we also have to take it on the chin when things decline?

4. How do we have money for this but not to fix healthcare or education?

5. Why haven't I received my economic stimulus check? (p.s. that was a bad idea, too)

I kind of feel like this whole deal is a depiction of our society; not only was it brought on by consumptive greed, but we are now trying to avoid the negative consequences.

I was always taught that we have a self-correcting system. It may take a long time, but it will eventually fix itself. It's like Jerry once told Elaine, "Don't get too down. Everything will even out. See, I have two friends. You were up, he was down. Now he's up, you're down. You see how it all evens out for me?"

This and That

2008-09-01T19:37:00.000-07:00

Exciting News #1
I am officially done with AmeriCorps! (It was terrible, I don't recommend it to anyone.) Habitat offered me a job, so....

Exciting News #2
I'm apartment searching so I can move out of my parents' house! I am prettttty excited.
One problem: I currently own a bed, a juicer, a laptop, and some sticky notes. Now, while I am all for simplicity, I think this is a bit stark even for me. (In Korea I at least had one pot and two spoons.) Maybe I can finagle a trip to Ikea.

Not-So-Exciting News #3
There is a terrible, terrible woman running Habitat. Her behavior has been bad enough that the staff filed a letter of no confidence, and people who have delt with her in public have sent complaints to Habitat International. She had a meeting with a few board members yesterday to address some of the issues. Tomorrow is going to be tense.

Because of her, I'm half-heartedly looking for a new job. I'm trying to wait it out and see if she quits. I don't want to start a new job, but I don't want to suffer through another year with her.

Anyway. all this drama and the blah-ness of staying in Abilene another year are only motivating me more to get serious about grad school. I can't wait!

Olympic-Sized Letdown

2008-08-17T20:46:00.000-07:00

There is little else so inspiring as thousands of athletes performing extrodinary feats. There is also little else that can make me feel like such a loser. It just blows my mind that people in their early 20s (or in China's case, early teens - ba-zing!) are competing for the the highest athletic award in the world.

The Olympics are so exciting and colorful and eventful. I look forward to Bob Costas and his perfect hair and corny commentary. All the build-up to the opening ceremony, topped off by the fact they always begin at the longest, most boring part of the summer add to the magic. It's the equivalent of Christmas in August - only better because you don't have to go shopping. I love the clutch wins, shocking injuries, and dramatic back-stories.

It's a pretty sweet deal to watch world-class athletes competing at their prime. It's such a letdown when the Olympics are over. It's like the time of year after New Year's where there is nothing to look forward to until spring. And, if it's a let down for me, the viewer, you know it's got to be a let down for the athletes.

For most of these people, it's the pinnacle of their careers. For some, maybe the highlight of their lives. Some of these people are in their 30s and have spent majority of their lives working toward their athletic goals. So what do they do when they are finished?

In town, there is a former Olympic and world record pole vaulter - Billy Olson. And do you know what he does? He runs a bail bond. How do you even make the transition from pole vaulter to bailbondsmen? How do you make the transition from part-time Home Depot employee and wrestler to a regular job? How indeed.

Butchered!

2008-07-18T14:01:00.000-07:00

Because I am a thrifty, (read: poor) I decided I would groom my dog myself. Not only would I save some considerable monies, but I would have the delight of giving my dog an awesome mohawk.

In THEORY, this was an awesome plan.

In REALITY, I turned my dog from this:

Into this hideous chupacabra:

He's so creepy. What you can't see is that I sheared one of his front legs really short and it looks like he's walking on a pointy, hairy peg leg. What was once a cute, shaggy dog now looks like a mythological Mexican "goat sucker."

I suppose we all have an awkward phase in life. Sometimes it's unavoidable. Sometimes it's thrust upon us by a cheapskate with clippers.

Down with Double Speak

2008-06-03T18:50:00.000-07:00

I started working on a resume today. However, I soon realized: I have no idea what I'm doing - in a big way.

I have no idea how to write a resume. I don't really know what a cover letter is. I don't know how or where to look for jobs. I am terrible in interviews. I've never balanced my checkbook and I don't really know how to make a budget.

I'm completely ill-equiped for life.

I've been doing research, and the most troubling thing is the cloaked "language" of resumes. I can't just write, or "I work with volunteers" or "I write new policies." I have to use the special code and say things like "civic engagement" and "innovative structuring." It's so pompus. I don't even know what they mean.

Why can't I just write "I make cool brochures and answer the phone." I bet a resume like that would catch an employer's eye.

And for the record, I will never use the words "team player" on a resume.

Skidmores of the Past

2008-05-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

Last year while in Korea, I received an email from my Aunt Sara:

"...I made quite an amazing-isn't-it-a-small-world-type-discovery while looking at your blog. I was looking at your pictures when I did a double take...one of the girls in your pictures was a dead ringer for a lady we knew years ago in Cincinnati....it was like a clone of her....but then I realized it was 20 years ago when we knew her, so chances were she could no longer pass herself off as a 20 something person in Korea....

Jan and Kevin Skidmore were in Cincinnati when we lived there many moons ago... Kevin was the campus minister and performed our wedding ceremony. At the time they had 3 tiny tots, Jessica, Tricia and David. They moved away shortly after we got married and I had not heard from them in years, but lo and behold...Jan Skidmore's clone is in your Korea pictures!!

I am now strongly suspecting that tiny tot Jessica of the Skidmore crew grew up to be your travel companion!! See... I told you it was a freaky small world type discovery!! I actually have a rather cute picture from our wedding reception where your mom is sitting in a chair holding Andy, you are standing beside her and Jan is sitting next to her holding Jessica and Tricia and the moms both look like they need a nap!! (all 4 children however look like they want to be turned loose!) "
As it turns out, she couldn't find the picture she wrote about, but today, she sent me these instead!

She's a little hard to see, but little Jessica is tucked between our two mothers and is staring at me. She has always been strangely familiar.
Then, I stumbled across this little gem:

But where is Jessica?

And then I spotted her. True to form, even at a young age, Jessica was staring longingly at the chocolate.

Good Reads

2008-05-23T06:27:00.001-07:00

Looking for something to read out by the pool? Something to do during the approaching long, hot summer days? Here are some good, easy reads I recommend. Take a trip to your local library and check 'em out!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

This book is written from the perspective of an autistic teenager. And what a treat it was! It was hilarious and fascinating and also a little sad.

Atonement by Ian McEwan

I know this is a little behind the game, but this book is really good. Really good. The movie was disappointing because it couldn't track the shifting characters and didn't include any inner dialogue. This review is a perfect description of why the book is better:
"...Their movie is abundantly attractive, every scene serenely composed, and
every character so fair in love and war that, when the lights come up, it's too
easy to say, ''That was good and sad and romantic and classy, now what's for
dinner?'' Turning the last page of McEwan's book, in contrast, you're more
likely to be shaking from direct devastation and intensity of experience."
I wouldn't go so far as to say "shaking from direct devastation," but it does make a bigger impression than the movie.

His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman

This is my new favorite set of books. It's a trilogy and I've just started the third book. Rarely do I become completely absorbed in a book anymore, but I can hardly put these down. Spirit animals, beautiful witches, gypsies, polar bear kingdoms, alternate dimensions, and a hot air balloon-flying Texan. It's a story about the battle between good and evil, and it. is. awesome.

Crunches Like An Apple. Tastes Like a Grape

2008-05-21T10:49:00.000-07:00

Grapples. Say "Grape-L."

These new hybrid fuits are all the rage around town. They crunch like apples and taste like grape cough syrup, and at $1.25 a pop, they probably won't hang around for long. Interesting, though.

Snip, Clip; Him is an It

2008-05-08T07:50:00.001-07:00

Slim SHADY - Note the Kramer-esq hair.

Pete has officially joined the ambiguous ranks of the dis-gendered.

Though we first thought the shade would decrease his propensity for mischief, he has figured out how to use the collar to his advantage, in that he rams into people's rear-ends.
He also runs into walls and doorways and beds and chairs and footstools - he's kind of like a fast-moving bumper car.

The Horrible Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

2008-05-05T06:33:00.000-07:00

It all happened on Friday, normally a joyous day. The weather was spectacular. I had just finished an all-around lousy day at work, but I was done for the weekend and Josey finished her last day of classes. We were headed out to buy a frisbee to teach the dog how to catch stuff in the air. It was going to be awesome. We loaded up the car with Pete and headed out...

Right into my parent's brand new-2009-been-in-the-driveway-2-days-insured-only-three-hours-earlier-has 53-miles-on-it car. I mean, it's still 2008, people. That car is from the future and I already banged it up.

I saw our car from the ancient past parked in the street, thought it was clear, and jimmied on out of there. Only to remember my parents bought a car just the day before. On top of all that, I had to wake dad up from a nap to tell him the bad news. Insult upon injury, my friends. The good news is, it's not dented - just scratched. Really badly.

We went on with our errands and took Pete up to ACU to play frisbee. We took our shoes off and ran on the soft grassy hill in front of the Bible Building. Just as we were starting to unwind and forget about the trouble we caused earlier, a car came rolling across the bottom of the hill. We assumed it was a dumb college kid too lazy to go around the big loop. We thought this right up until...

The car slammed into a tree. We kept waiting for someone to get out and rub their head in anguish over their stupid mistake. However, when there was no movement, I grabbed Josey's cell phone and ran down the hill. The horn was jammed and blaring, smoke had filled the car, and there was stuff leaking out. I called 911 while I tried to open the locked car door. As I was jerking on the door, the guy's head popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and we think he started having seizures. The fire dispatcher called and asked for directions as they drove past the entrance, not once, but twice. Meanwhile, the guy had stopped seizing and Josey got him to unlock the doors.

Josey said, "They're on their way." He said, "Who?" She said, "The ambulance." He said, "Huh." He had no idea what was going on. It was really spooky trying to talk to him. We sat with the guy until the fire department got there. They disabled the horn and talked to him for about 10 minutes before he started becoming aware of what was going on. In the end, he seemed okay, so hopefully they'll find whatever caused his seizures.

What a crummy day.

Strange Phenomena

2008-04-20T14:22:00.000-07:00

What a weird phenomena comic strips are.

Every time I thumb through the paper the comics catch my eye, and every time I think, "Man, I really hate the comics." Yet, every single time, some inexplicable force compels me to read them. And each time, as I re-fold the paper, bored, slightly irritated and vaguely disgusted, I wonder why I wasted my time.

I'm not the only one either. In an informal interview, every person I talked to admitted to disliking the comics to some degree, with their discontent ranging from a slight disdain to outright scorn. The most positive feeling anyone could muster was feeling sorry for the oft dour Charlie Brown.

Let's be real: Hagar the Horrible is a stereotypically depressing depiction of marriage, Family Circus is lame beyond belief, Blondie has two punch lines - naps and sandwiches, Gasoline Alley is too punny to stomach, and Garfield is just plain boring.

Despite the slightly depressing nature of the comics, each of the interviewed people copped to reading the comics every time they had the opportunity. What a strange, bewitching power comics possess! Perhaps it is our subconscious attempt to escape the reality of the rest of the news, a way to feel better about our own lives, or maybe it's just the bright colors drawing us in like moths to a flame.

Either way, I would like to extend my research to see how far the comic phenomenon extends, so answer as you will:

View this quiz on Quibblo
More quizzes on Quibblo

Peter the Great

2008-02-27T17:26:00.000-08:00

This is Tasty Pete.

"Tasty Pete?" you say. "Yes - he constantly has paper, pecans, grass, leaves, t.p., sticks, and dirt hanging from his mouth. He tastes and spits them out and it all winds up on his side-beard," I say.

As you can see, Pete is pretttty cute. But don't be fooled by his soft, angelic curls. He's an outdoorsy man's dog, through and through.

He used to be a rolly, puffy ball tottering through the house like this:

Now, he is like this:

As you can see, Pete eats my mother's books and makes messes. He is racked by periodic spurts of uncontrollable energy that cause him to tear through the house and frequently involve rebounding off the back of the couch. It is incredible. And hilarious.

He's a pretty great dog. And there are more pictures than you can shake a stick at on my Flickr.

Radio

2008-02-26T09:16:00.000-08:00

I liked this:

http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/nomore/index.shtml

Download it and listen on your way to work or something.

Hey Dude

2008-02-19T17:31:00.000-08:00

1
Right now, I'm volunteering with Habitat for Humanity through a program called AmeriCorps. In short, I thought it would be neat, but AmeriCorps is very poorly run and the office has overloaded me with their responsibilities, and quite frankly, I think it's stupid. That said, I am itching to do something else. Something not in an office. Something different.

2
I went to the rodeo with Heather and her family 2 weekends ago, and I could scarce contain my delight; horses, hats, dirt, and dung. Plus Whiplash, the cowboy monkey:

He's very real. I suggest checking him out on youtube.

1+ 2 = 3
I'm sort of thinking about working on a ranch or a national park this summer. I'll trade in papers, printers, florescent lights, and living far below the poverty line for fresh air, hard work, and sunshine. It sounds so good.

Yippee-ki-yi-yay!

Awkward Can Be Sexy

2008-02-17T13:44:00.000-08:00

Watch out dating world, here I come.

"The best "catches" in dating land may be the worst choices in the long-run, new research shows.

Popular people who monitor themselves carefully in social situations and thereby appear to be the most socially appropriate are often highly sought after as romantic partners, a study finds, but these people show less satisfaction and commitment in relationships than socially-awkward people.

By self-monitoring, people assess how their actions affect others and adjust to fit the appropriateness of the situation. They screen their words and behavior to suit the people around them. "High self-monitors are social chameleons," said Northwestern University professor of communication studies Michael E. Roloff. "And, because they're quick to pick up on social cues, are socially adept and unlikely to say things upsetting to others, they are generally well-liked and sought after."

Self-monitoring is often a helpful attribute. "Research finds [self-monitors] to be excellent negotiators and far more likely to be promoted at work than their low self-monitoring peers,” Roloff said. But there’s a downside for high self-monitors when it comes to their romantic relationships. "High self-monitors may appear to be the kind of people we want to have relationships with, but they themselves are less committed to and less happy in their relationships than low self-monitors," Roloff said.

The problem seems to be that they can't turn the self-monitoring off. "The desire to alter one's personality to appropriately fit a given situation or social climate prevents high self-monitors from presenting their true selves during interactions with their romantic partners," Roloff said. "High self-monitors are very likeable and successful people. However, it appears they’re just not deep."

Conversely, the researchers found that low self-monitors — people who are the least concerned with social appropriateness and are unlikely to mask their feelings or opinions to avoid confrontation or preserve their self-image — are more committed to and more satisfied with their relationships. Those awkward people who always seem to be sticking their feet in their mouths may ultimately be more genuine and capable of intimate relationships. (However, their honesty and loyalty can extract a price from their partners, because they may be more likely to say blunt and hurtful things.)"

- msnbc.com and livescience.org

As Jeremy, a trainer at the gym once said, "Awkward can be sexy!"

So Fugly

2008-02-06T15:32:00.000-08:00

What is the DEAL with ugly clothes lately?

You know it's getting bad when Andy - who shops nearly exclusively at Goodwill - starts complaining. He described the clothes at H&M as "things homeless space cowboys would wear if they were hippies." It's true.

In every clothing department, grumbles and mutters disappear into the overstocked rows of gaudy sweaters as the public fruitlessly browses stores; "That is SO UGLY!" "Who would wear this?" "It just looks weird on me." "I don't wear shiny things."

Groans are heard behind dressing room doors as women discover the bitter reality of the clothes they tried on. Clothes they had hoped would look better in person than on the hanger elicit only sheepish laughter or desperate cries of embarrassment.

It's a given that Walmart will have really crappy clothes, but typical mainstays in inexpensive, decent clothing have been plauged by cheap materials, tacky prints, unflattering cuts, unfinished hems, billowing sleeves, and too much shine.

Shirts do not need gigantic, puffy sleeves, nor do sleeves need huge flares and ruffles. Did we learn nothing from the "Puffy Shirt" Seinfeld episode? Men should not wear tight, stretchy, tapered pants for any number of appalling reasons. Overdone wedges, short boots, and enormously chunky heels are just silly. Seriously, stop with the metallics and don't let the 80's get any closer.

My Chair

2008-02-04T08:42:00.000-08:00

For better or worse, the office I work in has been partially furnished by the resale shop that we run.

From the badly stained conference chairs and faded pictures to the ancient hand-me-down computers, parts of this office are embarrassingly shabby.

As such, I inherited a second hand chair from the store. This chair appears to be perfectly acceptable, but do not be deceived. It is broken, nonadjustable, and more importantly, it smells like butt.

When I first started working, a mysterious stench periodically wafted up to my nose. Thoughts of a serious b.o. problem paralyzed me with social anxiety. Had I been walking around my new office meeting people while smelling like a cigarette stubbed in a dirty diaper? I was horrified and dutifully came to work ultra clean the next day. Alas, this did not remedy the problem.

I thought it might be my feet, but rarely do feet smell like stale cigarette smoke and farts, but perhaps the person who worked here before rubbed their smelly feet all over the carpet leaving an indelible odor. After some serious smell-testing, I concluded that none of these assumptions were correct.

However, I soon deduced the odor to be emanating from The Chair. The very Chair that I perch upon each day while completing the most menial of tasks. This most essential Chair has since undergone a series of odor eliminating processes.

Step 1: Douse with Febreeze. Result: No lasting effect.

Step 2: Spray w/ baking soda. Result: White residue on backside.

Step 3: Burn. Result: ??

Mr. No Name

2008-01-13T14:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I picked up my dog!

Despite those pretty green eyes, he won't walk on tile or cement. He'd better learn fast because he's almost too big to carry.

Now he needs a name. I haven't thought of anything good yet, but here is a list suggested so far:

1. Ike

2. Essau

3. Steve

4. Ditka (Mike)

5. Lucille 2

6. Buster

7. Doggles the dog with goggles

8. Watt Zit Tooya

Check out those feet

I need more suggestions!

Holy Rollin'

2008-01-06T15:24:00.000-08:00

I have to get this off my chest: I want some Heelys.

That's right. The roller shoes I previously scoffed at in public, I have now come to secretly covet.

I mean, come on. Who isn't envious as they trudge through the grocery store after a long day of work when a scrubby kid blows by on their roller shoes? Who doesn't wish for a pairs as they're
awkwardly dodging slow movers in Target when a kid 1/3 of your age weaves effortlessly through the crowd and beats you to the last Mario Party 8?

Though they aren't made in adult sizes, I think Heely's, Inc. might be pleasantly surprised at the favorable response from the adult market.

Boo Year's Eve

2007-12-31T18:00:00.000-08:00

Conceptually, New Year's Eve is brilliant. You know, out with the old; in with the new, soirees, fresh starts, and parties!

To be sure, advertisers make New Year's Eve seem glamorous; beautiful women in dazzling dresses on the arms of handsome men drinking sparkling cocktails in an elegant setting, laughing as the soft lighting glints off their perfectly aligned teeth and shiny hair, whilst they mingle and wait for their midnight kiss.

But make no mistake: These advertisements are no testament to reality.
In real life, the beautiful commercial people are replaced by slightly bloated post-holiday-feasters, lounging around the house in sweatpants, working puzzles and watching Dick Clark.

No matter how grandiose and spectacular your plans may be, disappointment inevitably follows because New Years, simply by virtue of its calendar placement, is a foreordained letdown. Thanksgiving and Christmas are tough - virtually impossible - acts to follow. Couple that with the burn bans preventing fireworks, and New Year's falls second only to President's Day as my least favorite holiday.

Doggie Delight

2007-12-22T18:28:00.000-08:00

Today Andy, Ryan, and I drove up to Argyle, TX to pick out my new dog! I finally found someone nearby selling goldendoodles at a reasonable price.

I picked the one that started wagging his weird little tail when I picked him up. He's cream colored with a brown nose, darker ears and face, and a tiny white swirl on his forehead. After I picked him, the seller told me he was her favorite.

Now I have to wait 3 more weeks to pick him up.

Snow-Balled

2007-12-18T07:49:00.000-08:00

During Thanksgiving, it snowed big and beautiful on two separate occasions. There was a substantial accumulation on the top of my car when I ran to the store to grab a few things. When I came out of the store, local hooligans had hastily crafted a specifically and unmistakeably male appendage on top of my car that towered above all the SUV's in the parking lot. I'm sure they watched from their car, snickering and making jokes about "weinermobiles" as I knocked down their anatomic skyscraper. I didn't find it especially funny, but the 70 year-old woman I work with cried she laughed so hard. Eh.

Ahead of His Time

2007-12-07T09:46:00.000-08:00

This is a transcript of an actual conversation I had this week. Sit back and let it blow your mind.

Jo: (enthusiastically) "My sister Audi told me they have a
hydro-powered car out now."
Me: (doubtfully, but so as to end the conversation) "Cool.
The future is now, Jo. The future is now."
Jo: (emphatically) "That's not true. They've had this
technology for 500 years. They've just never done anything with it."
Me: "What are you talking about? Who is 'they'?"
Jo: "That guy...what's his name...what's his name...DiVinci! Leonardo DiVinci invented it 500 years ago, so the technology's been around."
Me: (speechless)
Leonardo DiVinci! The hydro-powered car! And to think, we've had access to this information lo these 500 years!

Jack-o-Lanterns

2007-11-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

The jack-o-lanterns of my youth were carved by four children and my father crowded around a single pumpkin, wielding butter knives and rapaciously stabbing over each other's shoulders at a vaguely drawn face. When it finally got too dangerous, dad made us take turns. I clearly recall watching - painstakingly - as my siblings carved as they saw fit on the pumpkin that would represent the Smith House that Halloween. It was torture not having control over the entire pumpkin, and despite my siblings artistic leanings, the jack-o-lanterns never came out nearly so spectacular or grandiose as my imagination would have them. As an adult, I now have the option to use sharp knives and carve a pumpkins alone, opening a vast realm of possibility.

First Attempt

One night, Josey, Ryan, and I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning in a stippling and cutting contest. Ryan mentioned he had won a contest in 5th grade for carving D.A.R.E. into a pumpkin. I laughed off his elementary achievements and felt emboldened by his D.A.R.E. He deftly proved me wrong, for this night produced one of the most magnificent works of art ever captured in fruit: Ryan's free-handed Vincent Van Gogh. The photograph didn't come out. I couldn't capture the intricate detailing, as Van Gogh's very essence was captured, right down to the crow's feet creeping around his beady eyes. It was arresting.

Lame Lips - my least favorite

We proceeded to hide our jack-0-lanterns in the cabinets so our house guests wouldn't take one home.

Grandmother's Choice

Sadly, just as I was mastering the medium, my days of pumpkin art were cut short (literally!) by a dastardly slip of the gigantic exacto knife. I hope to resume carving around Thanksgiving.

The favorite

Non-Plussed Non-Profit

2007-10-22T14:15:00.000-07:00

I sit at my job. In front of me is Jo, constantly talking to herself and throwing/beating her 3-hole punch on the ground, letting the expletives fly when she makes the margins on her document too small, and telling me she knows my papers will print because the red light in her mouse is flickering.

To my right are hundreds of bags of pink and blue cotton candy making the room smell sugary, spilling over a big table and executive chairs.

The wind is blowing acorns on the roof and a train is going by, making the walls shake, and from even inside, the blast of it's horn is almost deafening.

Yes, you can network that printer. Make your margins smaller and it will fit on one page. Copy and paste. Click the paperclip to attach a file. The red light in the mouse has nothing to do with the printer.

Hot Air Balloon Festival

2007-09-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

Two years ago around this time of year, I volunteered to work at the hot air balloon fest. Then, I volunteered to go for a hot air balloon ride. However, I did not volunteer for a hot air balloon wreck, but that is just what happened.

After a few scares with power lines and steers, the young pilot slammed down, not once, but three times. On the third slam, she tumbled out, her hindside landing squarely on a cactus patch while Stephen Patterson and I were sandwiched on top of each other and had to wriggle out of the cramped basket, while frantically trying to put out the flames that threatened to tear through the overgrown field, left parched from the summer drought.
It. Was. Awesome.

This year, I opted for the balloon glow. It was a spectacular fall night, unfortunately, it was too windy for the balloons. Instead, the baskets did synchronized burns and let kids climb in the baskets and burn.

There was also a kite show! "Who choreographs kites to music?" you may ask. According to the MC, they are a group of "kite enthusiasts" out of Austin called "End of the Line." Clever, no? Here is one of the songs they did. Tonight, the kites were lined with lights.

Mamas and Chimichangas

2007-09-25T04:21:00.000-07:00

After looking for a job for a week or two, I started to get antsy and bored. In the meantime, I decided to work as a hostess at the dumpy Mexican restaurant my sister works at, just to have something to do. She filled my imagination with sadly intriguing tales of workers with scores of illegitimate children, delightfully wacky personalities, and terrible grammar. She referred to it as being almost exactly like middle school P.E., where everyone has several children, a middle school education, and little else. The only difference is they don't run anymore and their mustaches have filled out. Some have developed an unfortunate drug addiction, which they take care of out back.

This also happens to be my favorite restaurant. The last time we ate there, the waitress called me "mama." Like this: "What can I git forya, mama?" Sometimes the older waitress is grumpy because she wears her nice tennis shoes, which hurt her feet. I like these things. They're what give this place its considerable off-beat charm.

So, I went in to interview for a part-time hostess position. They hired me as the full-time bookkeeper. As Josey said, "They were probably impressed with your ability to complete middle school while remaining childless." Because, in fact, they did ask if I was married, and then asked with baited breath if I had children. But before they could finish their sigh of relief, they grilled me on any past or present drug usage. I'm pretty sure it was the most inappropriate interview ever, and I'm not sure some of the things they asked were legal.

After they were convinced I wouldn't rack up their phone bill trying to wrangle child support out of a former boyfriend, they offered me the job. I did it for one day and then I quit. Because really. Who wants to smell like pennies and beef for minimum wage? But mostly, I'd forgotten how much I don't like working with numbers, and frankly, how bad at it I am. I did them a favor by quitting.

West Texas Fair and Rodeo

2007-09-15T20:40:00.000-07:00

Ahhh. Fall is here and so is the fair.

The touch of fall and cow manure in the air beckoned us out to the fairgrounds this week. We saw all kinds of animals at the petting zoo, some more appealing than others.

This is where we ran into a donkey that tried to eat my camera every time I tried to take a closeup. I gave up and just starting taking pictures of his teeth. Though not familiar with equine dentistry, I'd say he's got some serious calculus build-up on those lower incisors.

We saw all the usual prize-winning fruits and vegetables.

Along with an array of odd/accidentally funny artwork.

And of course, fair workers, who were unusually friendly this year.

Wish List

2007-09-12T12:58:00.000-07:00

I have chosen my next dog, a Goldendoodle. I think I'll name him Satchimo. He will look something like this:

We will do all sorts of things, like this:

I'm already thinking of tricks and skills to teach him, like this:

For now though, I'll have to save my pennies and save my $100 dollar bills and settle for my imagination because they are expensive.

Still Here

2007-09-03T20:05:00.000-07:00

Just looking for a job. Anywhere. Doing most anything.

In the meantime, I'll be substitute teaching. And visiting the Texas Workforce Commission.

The Art of Knock-Knock

2007-08-16T07:27:00.001-07:00

Several times during the year, I tried to teach Won knock-knock jokes.
Please notice Phil and his expressions on the right side of the screen.

Mall Walkers and Mother God

2007-08-02T01:32:00.000-07:00

Since March, I have been accosted countless times by a group of proselytizing maniacs that lie in wait in every convenient and neccesary place - shopping centers, buses, parks, restaurants, subways, and train stations.

When they first came out of the woodwork, two of my friends were fooled by them. A few friendly women approached them in a park claiming to be a welcome group for Westerners. They wanted them to watch a video about Korea to welcome them. They weren't really doing anything, and the woman was really insistent, so they went with her. Turned out the welcome group was more of a cult and the welcome video an exercise in brainwashing.

Most of the crazies do not speak any English, yet they have been sent out to target Westerners. Those that can speak English are deceptive and misleading. This is an account of my favorite, and most awful encounter with them:

I was walking to the subway through an underground shopping area that was filled with people. Two middle-aged women came running up to me with huge, friendly smiles. As soon as the words "Mother God" came out of their mouths, I knew I was in trouble. I politely told them no and went on my way. They kept pace with me as I walked faster and faster through the shopping center. They weren't speaking English, and people were starting to stare as I became more insistent in telling them I wasn't interested. Whether I used Korean or English, it was not sinking in.

This persuit continued down the length of one city block. I thought my big break had come when one of the ladies turned around to talk to the other lady, while continuing to walk at full-tilt. Before long and with considerable momentum, she crashed into a pole - with her head. She made a huge racket and drew lots of stares. And still it did not deter her. She looked a little dazed and then she and her friend chased me even faster, crazily laughing down the mall.

The whole time, I kept asking myself, "Is this really happening? Am I really running away from middle-aged women who are laughing like chattering monkeys, waving pamphlets, and trying to make me come with them?" It seemed so much like one of my weird dreams.

The bizzre, over-zealous stalking ended as I broke into a run down some stairs and darted into the bathroom.

Since then, there have been at least 12 other encounters, but none so emphatic as that one. When we are on buses or the subway, the people around look at us with pity. Pleading glances are met by faces that say, "I would help you, but those people are crazy and I don't want them to talk to me." And really, who could blame them?

Buzz Kill

2007-07-27T21:08:00.000-07:00

Ahhhh. The familiar, plaintive, midsummer chorus of cicadas attracting mates. Or a troop of kitchen blenders grinding away at a cup of nickels, hiding out of reach in trees and effectively annoying everyone in a 2-mile radius.

The cicadas here are SO LOUD. Apparently, the female cicadas are DEAF and the males have to go all out to get any attention from the ladies. The little park down the street is a cicada stronghold. By park, I mean an area about the size of my parents' living room, and by stronghold, I mean it's so loud that I have to cover my ears while walking through.

I remember finding cicada skins when I was little, and they were usually pretty small - about an inch and a half. A few nights ago I found a dead cicada on the sidewalk and I'd say it was at least 4 inches and all thick and juicy. It's probably best they only come out every 17 years.

Summer Vacation

2007-07-27T20:15:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of summer vacation! Here is how I'm spending it:

1. Last night, Jessica and I got straight perms, which means I can't get my hair wet for 2 days. Which means I will be staying inside for 2 days, for going outside means to sweat...profusely. Up until this past week, the weather has been pleasant. It's monsoon season, but it really hasn't rained much, and the humidity has been bearable. This is no more. It is officially nasty. It hasn't reached the point where it takes your breath away and is hard to breathe, but in another week it will be. The air is now thick and gray and by 6 pm, the sun is neon orange from the pink pollution clouds covering it.
*Sidenote* Koreans don't really sweat, so it makes you feel extra nasty as they walk around all dry and fresh-faced, while all the foreigners walk around, a sloppy, sweaty, wet mess.

2. Monday I'm going up to Seoul and Tuesday I'm going to the North Korean border to take a tour of the DMZ.

3. The rest of the week I will split getting ready to come home and going to the beach. And sweating.