You Were Drunk The Whole Time? March 17, 2009

So, Amanda and I are having a girls’ night, because we realized I would be gone to Alaska for 5 whole days, and that’s just way too long to be apart. So we’re watching Sex and The City, and it’s the episode where Carrie asks what constitutes cheating. This provides much entertainment for us.

Somewhere in the beginning of the show, the ladies are bantering back and forth about the theory that cheating is relative to how much you care about the other person, how much you yourself are inclined to cheat, etc. This prompts a commitment discussion.

Michelle: So, what do you consider cheating?
Amanda: Come on, you know what cheating is.
Michelle: I mean, I do… for me. I know that if I were in a committed relationship, and my guy kissed someone else, I would be pissed. Sex would make me way pissed. But it can be even more complex.
Amanda: I think you’re supposed to talk about your level of commitment at some point?
Michelle: Yeah… that’s standard, I think. But it’s only been seriously discussed in one of my relationships. The rest just kind of… evolved.
Amanda: I’ve had the “let’s make this official” talk… When Shannon and I were dating, I was so drunk…
Michelle: Drunk… like the entire time you were dating? You were drunk the whole time?
Amanda: NO! Just… when… oh, shut up. ::laughs::

Miranda is dating a guy that Carrie dubs a “toxic bachelor.” (Yeah, we all know a few of those…) This guy also happens to be addicted to porn. So much so that he pauses during sex to rewind his favorite scenes. This prompts a porn discussion.

Michelle: Have you ever watched porn with a guy?
Amanda: Not unless we’re watching it to make fun of it. We were, like, obsessed with watching porn in high school.
Michelle: But never while you’re making sexy time?
Amanda: No.
Michelle: You have to try that.
Amanda: Um… okay?
Michelle: Have you ever watched it by yourself?
Amanda: Chyeah.
Michelle: I have some porn you should borrow.
Amanda: ::laughs::

My favorite quote of the night… Carrie is asked to write a love poem for some random person’s wedding. Her response: “Why did I agree to this? I write about sex. Not love. What do I know about love?” My thoughts exactly, Carrie. My thoughts exactly.

I Know Why Postal Workers Go… Well… Postal

Standing in line at the post office on Sam Bass Road, blogging from my iPhone so this post will be less eloquent than usual. Been here 37 minutes and counting. 3 people in front of me, 19… No, make that 21… behind me. Have to get a WilCo P.O. Box, so I really have no option but to remain. Can think of a million things I’d rather be doing…

1. Running in the rain. Which says a lot since I skipped my run this morning due to light precipitation. I’m like Rainman. I don’t go outside when it rains. At least not in my shiny new kicks. Hope it doesn’t rain during the Austin Marathon on Sunday.

2. Doing laundry. Damn, I need to do laundry. I just haven’t been home. I think I kind of forgot what my apartment looks like. Where do I live, again?

3. Doing the nausea-inducing P90X workout DVDs I finally broke down and ordered. Only, to do those, I would have to go home to check the mail. Not happening.

4. Read this lovely “Awake” religious tract that was just given to me by a very aggressive Jehovah’s Witness woman. As if I didn’t get enough of that while I was married. I wonder if this one’s as good as the one that talked about a wife being subordinate to her husband. You know, the one that caused me to promptly call my mother-in-law and tell her she had lost her mind? Yeah. That one.

ACK! Some random small person… (a “child” I believe it’s called?) just ran up to me and wrapped herself around my leg. Where is this kid’s mother? Who in their right mind allows their vulnerable young toddler to just run around all willy-nilly, cuddling with strangers? Oh, yay! It’s my turn.

Danielle	Michelle I love you…you just make me laugh! Posted by Danielle on Monday, February 09, 2009 – 3:47 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	Amanda Joy ♥	uhggg, i hate it when strange kids come up to you in a public place and attach themselves to you. soooo awkward. Posted by Amanda Joy ♥ on Monday, February 09, 2009 – 8:10 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

T. Andrew

A kid did that to me once and I yelled at the kid. Well… I guess it was more of a roar of sorts. Either way it scared the shit out of the kid and pissed the parent off. Sure taught that little fucker a lesson. Posted by T. Andrew on Wednesday, February 11, 2009 – 1:50 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

People Are Strange

Have you ever noticed that people are just strange, in general?

I have some pretty odd quirks. That I will admit. But then, sometimes, I just do weird things. And I’m okay with that. I have a lot of fun doing those weird things. And I notice that other people seem to have a lot of fun doing weird things, too. So, I’m fascinated with strange behavior.

Some examples…

Random Interpretive Dance: Friday night at Jardin Corona, Dan, Lindsay and I are thoroughly… and I mean thoroughly… enjoying several Mexican martinis. By enjoying, I mean we were toasted by 8:30. I made my first drunk dial (to my sister) before 9:00 that night. Then my phone started doing some odd things, turning off and on, calling people on my Favorites list, and then died in the middle of a Facebook status update. So we started taking pictures. But Lindsay’s camera died about 6 pictures into the night. So without our cellular and camera appendages, we were forced to look elsewhere for entertainment. Enter the sounds of the 80s. Carlos (our favorite bartender ever) put on a DVD of 80s music videos, and without a second thought, Lindsay and I break into song, repeating every lyric of every video that played. But that’s not all. We also treated the entire restaurant to a little interpretive dance, complete with frequent jazz hands. That’s right… even the hearing-impaired patrons of that fine establishment could understand the meaning behind those beautiful songs, thanks to the dance stylings of the two drunk girls at the bar. I’m pretty certain that any other bar would have cut us off and kicked us out, but Carlos just laughed and poured more drinks.

Corn Dogs as Wedding Food: The last time I stopped by the grocery store, I passed a couple in the frozen foods aisle. They were arguing about the virtues of mini corn dogs versus pigs-in-a-blanket. I assume they’re choosing finger foods for a Super Bowl party. Oh, no. That would be too normal. These two people were arguing because they didn’t know which of these two foods – mini corndogs or pings-in-a-blanket – to serve at their wedding reception. WTF. Where were they having their wedding reception? In a parking lot, with the food set up on tailgates? I mean, more power to them, but it was just weird. You’d think if they got so far as to agree that it was alright to have frozen foods from H.E.B.  served at their wedding reception, they would agree that both mini corn dogs and pigs-in-a-blanket are exceptional finger foods. Especially if served with ketchup and mustard mixed together, otherwise known as ‘magic sauce.’

Having a Knack for the Inappropriate: I love my Grannie. Really, I do. So much that she was Matron of Honor at my wedding. But sometimes, she makes the most inappropriate decisions. Now that she realizes I am indeed moving back to Austin, and even better for her, to Round Rock, she’s agreed that it’s time for her to get the hell out of Goldthwaite and move back to the area. Yesterday, we were driving around Round Rock, checking out places for her to live. I took her to 7 different apartment complexes near my future residence, 4 of which had significant senior citizen populations, and she was pretty much lukewarm about all of them except for one on McNeil. So, we grabbed some lunch, and checked out a few more properties online. I really didn’t want her any farther north than 620, but lo and behold, she locks her eyes on an apartment complex on 79, one exit north of 620. But that’s not the problem. She flew like a moth to a flame towards the only complex in all of Williamson County that I would not want her living in. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I really don’t want her to pick this complex. I didn’t even want to go look at it with her. But I did. And of course, that’s the one she wants. I pulled her aside and told her why I was uncomfortable with her living there. You know what she did? She laughed. My Grannie effing laughed at my silly female logic and told me I was worrying too much. Then she told me she’s putting a deposit down on that apartment. I told her I hope she’s prepared to drive to my house any time she wants to see me. She laughed again, called me funny. Inappropriate, Grannie. Inappropriate.

Watching Regular Television Shows in 3-D: Tonight, I was feeling a little stressed over family drama, and needed to just forget about it for awhile. I had to swing by Trent’s house to pick up my coat from Friday night, and he offered to cook dinner and let me play with some of his fun Apple toys to to take my mind off things. (First, let me tell you that there is nothing like playing with the toys that an Apple engineer chooses for his own home. I heart all things Apple. Just in case anyone forgot.) Anyways, we got sucked into watching this show called Solitary, which is this crazy reality show where people basically volunteer to be locked in solitary confinement and tortured in various manners, all in the name of winning $50,000. After watching this show, I decided that $50K is not nearly enough cash for what these people were being forced to do.  Solitary ends, and Trent points out the 3-D glasses he has on his coffee table. Who the hell keeps not one, but two pairs of 3-D glasses in their home for everyday use? Computer engineers, that’s who. He forced me to put on the glasses to watch an episode of Chuck, which was specially formatted in 3-D in celebration of the 3-D Super Bowl commercials. About halfway through the show, I look over at Trent, who has gone from cute to ridiculous in a pair of bright blue 3-D glasses, and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I also look ridiculous. And my eyes hurt. Why are we doing this? This is so strange!

I know several of you have some bizarre habits, but I’d like to hear some of the strangest things you’ve done in the last few months. The weirder, the better. Prove to me that I’m not alone in the world.

The Rhodonite Mala

In my last blog, I mentioned a mala that Jackson made for me this Christmas. Writing about it prompted me to pull out the note he wrote about it, and I read over it again, feeling so happy and blessed to have such an amazing friend in my life. It occurred to me that I frequently lose things when I move, and I began to worry about losing this letter. So I decided to post its partial contents here, the part that describes the mala and what he intended it to be for me. Assuming MySpace is forever, I will never lose the intent behind this incredible gift. Jax, I hope you don’t mind that I’m sharing this with my closest friends. I’m just so proud of what you made for me.

“I made this out of a gemstone called Rhodonite. This stone is known as “a stone of grace and elegance” and is metaphysically appreciated for affecting the heart chakra, resulting in an opening of one to unconditional love and increased service to mankind. The bright pinks indicate energy that enchances passionate love, and is used in metaphysics to attract a good mate. It is said to bring emotional balance, and as such bring confidence into one’s life in many areas. I hope that you like it. I can assue you it was made with love and optimistic energies.”

I wear this mala at least twice a day, while meditating in the morning, and again at night. On occasion, I wear it during the day as an accessory, sometimes outwardly, and sometimes tucked inside my shirt. I have kind of a phobia about other people touching it, because I don’t want to mess up its energy.

Jax inspired me to make one of these malas for each of my favorite people. Even if you’re not Buddhist (and I’m not; I just share a lot of similar ideals), it’s a gorgeous, meaningful, heartfelt gift, and I want to pay it forward.

25 Things You Don’t Need to Know

I’ve already done this once with 99 things on MySpace, and I don’t feel like going back to cross-check these with those, so we may have some repeats, but…

(1) I hate sweet tea. Effing hate it. I can’t stand the way the sugar coats my teeth and tongue when I drink it. When I first moved to Atlanta, I was horrified that most restaurants didn’t even have the courtesy to ask, and just brought you supersweet crack tea no matter what. If I can’t get my tea unsweetened, I’ll just have water.

(2) Growing up, I was an only child. Then when I was 5, my mom remarried, and I had an older stepbrother and stepsister for about 2 years, so I was the youngest child. Then she got divorced, and I was an only child again. Then when I was 8, my dad and stepmom had a baby boy, and I became the oldest child. I now have 3 younger siblings, but am still the only child between my mom and my dad. So I exhibit tendencies of being an only child, a youngest child, and an oldest child all at once. I’m a mess.

(3) I meditate and do yoga every day. I always wanted my own mala, which is a special beaded necklace used to count the number of times you repeat a mantra. It’s kind of like a rosary. But I always wanted my mala to be very special. I got my first mala in 2007, when I went to hear the Dalai Lama speak on “inner disarmament” in Atlanta. It’s made out of boddhi seeds, which come from the same type of tree that Buddha was sitting under when he attained enlightenment, and was handcrafted by the monks in Dharamshala, India, where the Dalai Lama lives in exile from Tibet. I never thought I would find a more special mala than this one. But this year for Christmas, Jackson sent me a package containing the most beautiful mala I’ve ever seen. With it was a note, explaining the meaning behind the stones he chose, the intent behind it, and the fact that he made it especially for me. I cried for about an hour when I opened it. Now, my boddhi sead mala hangs in my room and is still very special, but Jackson’s mala will always be superior to anything else in my eyes, because it was made with such great love, just for me.

(4) I currently have 6,475 songs on my iTunes, and have 3, 209 in the process of downloading via Transmission. I like music. A lot.

(5) When I religiously got my hair cut by Steven at Toni & Guy in Kennesaw, I used all TIGI/Bedhead products on my hair. But I recently discovered that I hate them. I just bought a mousse that I thought looked pretty cool, but it turns my hair into a grease spot. I denounce TIGI and everything it stands for, and am back to using organics.

(6) I don’t like diamonds. I really, really, want to like them, because they’re so shiny and pretty. But ever since I learned about the perpetual scam the DeBeers family is running on the world, then saw the movie Blood Diamond, I swore I would never buy another diamond again. I don’t care if diamonds are certified by the Kimberly process as being non-conflict diamonds. I don’t believe them. Instead, I’ve decided I like moissanite (http://www.moissanite.com/), which is a really cool meteor-derived silicon carbide that is manmade, so we’re not depleting natural resources via violent slave trades in third world countries… and it’s SO SPARKLY. If I ever get married again, I want a moissanite ring.

(7) I don’t like to drink out of restaurant glasses without a straw. I’ve worked in kitchens, and I know how dirty those glasses can remain. But for liquor, beer and wine, I make an exception. I figure the alcohol kills any remaining germs.

(8) Most girls who get their nails done go back about every 2 weeks or so for a fill. My nails grow so fast that I have to go back every week. If I wait 2 weeks, the nail tech has to remove all of the old tips and do a whole new set. This can get expensive, but I like the way my nails feel when I get them done, so it’s worth it.

(9) Every time I wash the dishes or scrub the bathroom without gloves on, my hands become unbearably itchy for at least 30 minutes. But I hardly ever wear gloves, so my water-based chores are usually followed by me running around screaming about how badly my hands itch, and claiming I am allergic to housework.

(10) I still have my ex-husbands wedding band. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I plan to do with it. It’s titanium, so it might be kind of fun to TRY to destroy it, just as an exercise in physics. But for now, it’s sitting in a box. Just being there.

(11) There is currently a collection of peanut butter crackers in my pantry that have been included in the most recent peanut butter recall. These crackers were sent home with my brother by my stepmom. I think she might be trying to kill us. Thank goodness I don’t eat peanut butter crackers. But I’m calling her out next time I see her.

(12) The curve in my cervical spine is all jacked up. I need a chiropractor badly. Actually, I have one, and he’s great, but he’s 2 hours away, which makes it difficult to see him on a regular basis. So until I move to Austin, I just beg for massages from random people.

(13) I can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke. I’ll never date a guy that smokes cigarettes again. But I love the smell of cloves, and have been known to smoke a clove or a premium cigar on occasion. But I never inhale.

(14) I just signed a 30-year seat option for 4 season tickets to the Dallas Cowboys, and wrote a check for more twice my earnings in 2008 to cover the tickets. My hand shook while I was signing the check. But I got to write it from the company account, so it’s all good.

(15) Mason bought some weird dishwashing detergent, and it leaves spots on all of our glasses no matter what you do. I was so pissed that I just bought 16 new glasses. I wanted to throw the other ones away for being so difficult, but then I reminded myself that it wasn’t their fault. And now I’m going to handwash them. With gloves on.

(16) I’ve read 3 books this week in their entirety, and just started on a 4th.

(17) My favorite place in the world to sleep is at Dan & Lindsay’s house. They have the most comfortable mattress/sheet/pillow combination I have ever experienced. I seriously want to start inviting people to have sleepovers at Dan & Lindsay’s with me, just so they can feel the love, too. When I move, I’m buying an identical mattress and sheet set.

(18) I carry my lululemon gym bag, packed with everything I need for an overnight stay, everywhere I go. I got tired of having impromptu sleepovers and being without comfy sleep clothes, toiletries, and a toothbrush. So when you see that black and white leather bag, don’t assume I’m being presumptuous about moving in with you. It’s just always there.

(19) I’ve been looking for a very particular ring for 2 years, and haven’t been able to find it. I want it to be white gold, with a slender, simple band, and a fire opal in the center. Nothing fancy, nothing too extreme. Why can’t I find one that fits the bill?

(20) Along the same lines… I love my birthstone. It’s an emerald. Green, which is my favorite color. Rare, delicate. But it ALWAYS comes paired with yellow gold. Yellow gold is gross. I hate it. I want emerald jewelry with white gold. Is that too much to ask?

(21) Sometime in the last few months, I lost one of my white Reefs. I’m pretty sure it’s lost in my Dad’s truck, but I never found it. But I love that pair of Reefs so much that I’m hanging on to the other one, just hoping against hope that one day its mate will return.

(22) My brother keeps sneezing, coughing, and vomiting, and I’m starting to get really afraid of his germs. I’ve been pumping my body full of vitamins, Airborne, and Jack Daniels for a few days now. So far, it’s worked. But I’m kind of afraid he might have SARS. I’m going to stay in Austin this weekend to get away from the walking pathogen.

(23)  I recently adopted a full-blooded German Shepherd named Kali from a rescue organization in Austin. I love her already, but I can’t bring her home until she finishes her training.

(24) I can’t wait to move back into a house so I can grow my own herbs again.

(25) This morning, I accidentally picked up a tube of Vaseline, which was sitting next to my toothpaste, and put the stuff on my toothbrush. It was not tasty.

Blogging While Intoxicated

I’m hammmmmered. Good music + good friends + good alcohol = hammmmmered.

And it’s funny, because my whole crew has definitely passed out drunk. Except Mason. I can always count on Mason to drink with me until the sun comes up. Should I be worried about our family’s incredible alcohol tolerance? Apparently, we get it from Dad, because Amanda definitely threw up her 3rd tequila shot at about 2:00 a.m., and she’s from my stepmom’s side. Yeah, Mase and I are last survivors. Us, and the Karminator, who is taking advantage of her vacation and licking up spilled drops of alcohol from the floor.

I had a 45-minute phone call with my friend Cody, and we discussed the ins and outs of life. And Spring Break 2010, which is irrelevant now but will come into play in a few years.

People like to eat when they’re drunk. They have no qualms about eating your delicious stuffed-crust pizza, and they eat it, and go back to their sleeping quarters with no regard for what YOU are going to eat at 5:00 a.m. when YOU are drunk and hungry. I guess it doesn’t matter, because I already ate 4 pieces of pizza in the last 2 hours. I only like the stuffed crust part of the pizza. I wish I had someone to eat the pizza part, and give me the crust part. Like Carley. She made Adam eat the pizza part, so she could have the crust. She called it the “dough,” but we knew what she meant. I have to eat the whole piece of pizza, which blows. Fuck my life.

Ryan is discussing the virtues of having sex before marriage. I don’t really listen, but agree with whatever he’s saying. I would never marry someone I hadn’t had sex with. What if the guy sucks in bed? Or worse yet, is a freak that can’t get off unless he stabs you in the midst of his orgasm? Creepy.

Mason is making Karma do animal headstands. I do those when I’m drunk. But I need a wall. He’s not giving Karma a wall. I hope she throws up the tequila and pizza I’ve been sharing with her. Right on his shirt. That would make my life.

I just did a headstand. Against the door. We’re probably going to get a complaint against us. But I did it. And then I fell. My head hurts. Drunk yoga is not a good plan. Ever.

Karms is trying to dig a hole in Mason’s arm. I told her she’s not a gopher. Mason said “Yeah, it’s not February.” My response, was, “Yeah, and you’re not a groundhog, either.” I worry about my brother sometimes.

Time for another tequila shot. We ran out of Sotol, so all we have left is Corralejo. I wanted to know what “corralejo” meant, so I Googled it. Apparently there is no translation. But Wikipedia came up with:

“The town and resort of Corralejo is located on the northern tip of Fuerteventura, one of the Canary Islands, facing the small islet of Lobos (Islote de Lobos). It is placed in the municipality of La Oliva

Corralejo is approximately 2 miles (3.2 km) square, making it the largest holiday resort on the island. At its centre Corralejo remains a traditional fishing village. However, there are many new buildings behind and to the side of the town. Along the waterfront there is a promenade that is lined with cafes and restaurants. From the port there is a regular ferry service to Lanzarote.

The beaches in Corralejo are the resort’s major attraction. The area has 7 miles (11 km) of fine sand starting 2 miles (3.2 km) outside of Corralejo, along with some smaller bays along the coast. In addition, there are several miles of sand dunes located nearby, which have been designated as a nature reserve. The waters around Corralejo are clear and an intense shade of blue, but are affected by strong currents. The town’s beaches are somewhat more sheltered and have a band of volcanic rock along the shoreline.”

That’s crap. I just want it to translate to a regular word. Whatev.

My thigh is starting to bruise from falling out of my headstand. Ouch. I find myself standing on one leg in tree pose. Mason laughs at me. I realize that he’s the second person to call me out while standing on one leg while I’m drunk. I might be a flamingo. I stand on two feet again.

Mason just called me Tucker Max. The guy wrote a book called “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.” He might be my soulmate. I make a mental note to look the guy up and ask him to go on a date. *Mason interjects* “If Tucker Max shows up at our apartment, the police will be called.”

I like police. They’re sexy as hell. There’s something about a man taking control that makes me feel tingly inside. But I digress. Then I recall that Tucker Max might be a woman hater. I second-guess my decision to date him. Then I decide that might not be too different than any other guy I’ve ever dated. I leave him on my to-do list.

We’re listening to “The Grange” by ZZ Top while taking shots. Mason is pissed that I can keep up with him. I remind him that I have 8 years of drinking on him. He’s still surprised that I’m happy and coherent while he is lying face-down on the floor. I pick him up and demand that he does another shot with me. I might be guilty of poisoning my brother.

It’s 4:37 a.m. Mason decides to go to bed. He, with the exception of me and my 2-pound dog, is the last man standing. I so need a more experienced crew.

I debate going for a run. But I’m schnockered. And I have no idea where I am. So I decide against the run. I dance instead.

I rock out to “Sex on Fire,” “Shake It,” and “Plays Pretty for Baby.” Karms looks like she wants to join me, until I bounce her around during the chorus to ‘Shake It,” and the look on her face suddenly makes me feel someone like someone should call PETA to report cruelty to animals. So I put her down.

I realize that Mason has crawled under the covers of his bed. I call him a pussy. He doesn’t care. I tell him he has nothing to do tomorrow. He whines that he’s drunk. I call him a pussy again. He pulls the covers over his head.

I need new friends.

I debate beginning an expedition to 6th Street. But it’s 4:46 a.m. And Karms is whining for attention. I take that to mean she’s concerned about the level of alcohol in my blood. I feel bad for a moment. I hug her and play with her.

Then I’m bored again. I decide to call Jackson. He’s probably awake.

I grab my iPhone. I look at the Recent Calls list to find Jax’s number. Fuck my life.

Recent Calls:

Kevin: 3:56 a.m.
Torie: 3:56 a.m.
Torie: 3:55 a.m.
Cody: 2:41 a.m. (Don’t feel so bad about this one, ’cause he asked me to call.)
Suzanne: 2:39 a.m.
Melissa: 2:27 a.m.
Tara: 1:40 am.
Aubrie: 1:39 a.m.
Brian: 1:22 a.m. (Thank god, one more person who called me first.)

WHAT THE FUCK. I decide my iPhone is plotting against me, and has called all of these people as some sort of revenge because I forgot to charge it last night. Then I see my most recent MySpace status, claiming that I’m mad because no one is responding to my drunk dialing/drunk texting except Cody. I suppose Brian doesn’t count because he’s in New York and/or because he is drunk, too. Fuck.

I hate being drunk alone. I decide again that I need new friends.

I poke Ryan in the shoulder. He’s asleep. A quick review determines Mason is crashed, too. I go to the other room. Brandon is crashed out. Carley and Adam are passed out. It’s dark, the door is locked, and I have no idea whether Nye and Rachel are sleeping or fucking, but I don’t care to find out. Sigh.

I suddenly miss Tara and Colleen. They wouldn’t pass out drunk on me, no matter what. I decide to take a shot for Coll, and another one for Tara.

I don’t feel any different. Is there a point, when drinking, where you simply can’t get any drunker? I think I am there.

I dance again. I love Scissor Sisters. I realize that I have NO idea what dance I’m doing. I’m kind of hopping around, waving my arms like a hippie, and shaking my ass. Is that a real dance? I’m not convinced? I’m pretty sure that if I were in public, someone might try to have me locked up. Even my dog looks worried. I pick her up and hug her, convince her it’s ok, and put her back down. She’s still shaking like an immigrant in front of the INS.

It occurs to me that I might need to find a night job. If I’m consistently awake at 5:00 a.m. and no one else is up, I might live a lonely life. I see Karms dancing on her hind feet in hopes of grabbing a piece of pizza, and I think she might need a night job, too.

What if I became a police officer, and dressed Karma up as a prisoner? And I could be the Karma Police… like the Radiohead song…? I decide that’s what we’ll be for Halloween.

I don’t think anyone will ever love me as much as my dog does. I’m sitting here, being a complete fucking idiot, dancing clumsily and stumbling around drunk in a room full of virtual strangers (to her) and all she wants to do is drink my beer, give me kisses, crawl under my blankets, and cuddle with me.

I decide to reward her by pouring some Abita Purple Haze onto a plate and letting her drink it. Then I recall that we spilled Corralejo earlier, and she drank that, too. Shit. She might get alcohol poisoning. I decide to pick the plate up. She’s already devoured all the beer. Dammit.

I’m a bad mother. This is why I don’t have children.

I was in New Orleans for Nick’s 21st birthday celebration. We were sitting in the park, drunk beyond belief at 1:00 p.m., and a woman walked by with a stroller. We heard her say “FUCK! I just spilled beer on my kid’s head!” We laughed. We talked about how funny it was that mom was so hammered.

Now, it occurs to me that I am Drunk French Quarter Mom. But I only have a dog. Maybe that’s slightly better. I look over at Karms, who is “dancing,” (jumping around on her hind legs while waving her paws in the air – a trick drunk mommy taught her) and realize… there is no excuse for a mommy who’s too drunk to pay attention to her girl. So, I put the Corralejo away, turn the iPhone off, and take my puppy to cuddle in bed.

Damn, the morning comes too soon. But at least I’ll get a little rest. And maybe my dog will be sober by then.

TARA!!!

1. you can tell how someone is in bed without having sex with them. trust me.
2.
4:37am is the longest they lasted? WOW! I mean, I could see if they had somewhere to be today, but as you said they did not = lame
3. yay for shots for meeeee!!! you’re right, i would not pass out on you. maybe at like 7am, but not 4…
4.
I like the Karma police idea
5. THAT WAS SO FUNNY!!!! I miss New Orleans. we seriously have to meet there.
soon!
6.
you’re right, that WAS the longest blog ever in life!

Posted by TARA!!! on Saturday, October 25, 2008 – 2:13 PM
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I’m So Emo, My Grass Cuts Itself

Missing You
Current mood:  sad
Category: Life

So. still drunk from my Friday night adventures, I get a text back from Aubrie.

“Hey, is everything ok”?

Leave it to my Little to worry about me when I leave her a drunken voicemail in the middle of the night.

“Yesss. i just loooooove yooooouuuuu.”

“OK. Good. I was worried, but I looooooove you too!”

“Ummmm. I think I left you a voicemail saying I just looooooove you.”

“Haha. I love it!”

“I’m hammered. Everyone else fell asleep. I miss my girls.”

“Me too. I went to Purple Passion and just woke up drunk. I miss you sooooo much!”

“I miss you too. This sucks. I should be there.”

“We all miss you. You come home now!”

“Why am I here?!”

Why am I here? What the hell… all of my friends, save for one or two, are in Atlanta. I missed Austin more than I could imagine, and I thought I might me able to reconnect with my high school buddies, but that’s been hit or miss…

“Because you missed your family. But your Georgia fam misses you more.”

Hmmm. I was born with my family. And I love them. But I CHOSE the family I made in Georgia. And no matter how much I may try, I could never, ever replace the family I made for myself in Atlanta. I want nothing more than to bring them all here to me.

And Aubrie caught me at a time when I’m just so drunk, I might agree to move back. She’s sneaky. But that’s why she’s my Little.

I need another beer. I wrap a towel around my body, exit the bathroom. and go to the fridge. I grab a Rolling Rock and twist the top off.

I confess to Aubrie… “I’m confused about life. Beer makes sense. Nothing else does.”

And I think about how true that sentence is. Love means nothing. Work means nothing. I just want to surround myself with people who care about me. And I don’t have that here. Well, I do. I have my family. But beyond that…

I miss the feeling of belonging that I had in Atlanta. I miss knowing that a single shift in the direction of sadness meant that a sister would sense my feelings, and would call to check on me. I miss that a lonely Tuesday night turned into Tuesday night dinner party at my house. I miss knowing that a Friday night destined for boredom would convert itself to a drunken game of trivia ending at 3:00 a.m. at Mellow Mushroom. I miss the early evening class breaks translating to an impromptu gathering on the campus green.

I miss knowing that, no matter what, my girls are right there to catch me.

I know they’re still there. But they’re so far away. A phone call isn’t nearly as comforting as a hug.

I guess I was naive to think I could pick up where I left off with high school friends. The one friend I feel I could really do that with is in Matamoros, Mexico. Everyone else has moved on. Maybe I should, too…

*EDIT* Damn, this must be the sad part of the night. Good thing I got happy again 30 minutes later. I still miss you guys. But I like it here. So you all come here. Now. Please.

So wrong, it’s [leslie]

matamoras Mexico is super fun to say. Say it three times fast. And Wheeeeee

Posted by So wrong, it’s [leslie] on Saturday, October 25, 2008 – 11:53 AM
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Touch Screen Problems While Drunk?

My sister knows me all too well.

Apparently I called her on accident, too. But instead of just assuming I was drunk dialing, she assumed I was drunk AND having difficulty with my newly acquired iPhone and its overly sensitive touch screen… based on the long list of people I called last night by accident, I think it is a little touchy.

And I think that texting and instant messaging is leading to the extinction of the English language as we know it… since when did it become okay to abbreviate EVERY SINGLE WORD that comes out of your mouth? Dammit.

Daddy’s taking Mommy shopping for a new car today. And that’s pretty awesome, because despite my dad’s overwhelming success with his business, he’s always been the kind of guy that thought new cars were a waste of money, because they depreciate in value too quickly, etc. But recently, he decided Mommy deserves a brand new car. And they’ve pretty much decided on a new Mercedes, which is my favorite brand of car ever. But that’s not the reason it’s so awesome. I’m excited for her because she’s devoted her entire life to being a mom… carting kids around to every activity you could imagine, keeping the house in impeccable order, making sure dinner is on the table every night… she’s a well-oiled machine. And now, the thought of her being able to drive a brand new Mercedes, fully loaded with bluetooth, navigation, Sirius, etc., makes me feel like she will finally be able to really enjoy her driving experience, free of chattering children demanding that she change the radio station. She totally deserves it. And that makes me happy.

And I’m really, really going to try to wake someone else up now, so that I won’t be tempted to post my 4th blog of the day.

TARA!!!	oh, so it was touch screen problems that led to the txt i received that said “Dry kkkkk go hug mr little”? wtf is that supposed to mean? I’m normally pretty good at reading drunk txts, but this one has me stumped……….. Posted by TARA!!! on Saturday, October 25, 2008 – 2:14 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	michelle cheri	Um…. I think that was supposed to be. “I’m drunk. Go hug my Little.” Meant for Aubrie? Or Torie? Because they wouldn’t answer their phones? I called both, apparently. Or… wait. Do we know anyone named Mr. Little? or, is there perhaps, someone we nicknamed “Mr. Little,” like “Mr. Big” on Sex & The City, only not as flattering? Maybe I meant him… if there is a Mr. Little, that is. I could just blame this one on the touch screen. Yeah, that’s probably a safer bet. Posted by michelle cheri on Saturday, October 25, 2008 – 3:53 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

Kevin

I got the voicemail with the ongoing conversation in the background. It was casual conversation and then I hear the “fuck my life” when you realize the phone has called someone. Good job! Posted by Kevin on Sunday, October 26, 2008 – 4:00 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

Nothing To See Here

I’ve been putting off this blog, because, for some strange reason, I haven’t had anything to say. I know. Me, at a loss for words. It’s almost unheard of.

But, it’s getting late, and following a glass of Menage a Trois red and the opportunity to read over some of my friends’ versions of the ’99 Things About Me’ blog I did a couple of weeks ago, I’ve decided to just sit here and type whatever is on my mind. So here goes…

(1) I started to write this blog a few minutes ago, but must have inadvertently clicked a wrong link somewhere, because suddenly, my blog was gone, and my entire MySpace had converted itself to Spanish. The fact that I know only enough Spanish to pose a danger to myself and others at a border crossing presented a problem here. Since I knew where the status bar was, I updated it to read “somehow just changed my myspace to the latino version and can’t figure out how to change it back. Fuck my life.” I changed my mood to “confused.” Upon navigating away from the Home page and coming back, my status read, “de alguna manera cambió su MySpace a la versión latina, y no puede averiguar cómo volver a cambiarlo. Carajo mi vida.” After a few minutes of searching, I figured out how to revert back to MySpace en Ingles. But I shall leave my status en Espanol to commemorate the occasion.

(2) Tara’s ’99 Things’ blog mentioned that she thinks people who curse in everyday conversation sound uneducated. I take exception to that. I scored a 720/800 on the Language section of the SAT, and a 780/800 on the SAT II Subject Test in Writing. I graduated from high school a year early. I’m an Honors Scholar at KSU. I’m a member of 9 different merit-based Honor Societies. And I curse a lot. My every day language is in no way a reflection of my education, intelligence or level of class. It is, however, a reflection of the usual law firm environment I work in (full of stress and rapid-fire profanities), as well as how comfortable I am with the people in my general vicinity. I would never use profane language in front of my parents, an elderly person, or even a middle-aged pharmacy tech, but am quick to say “fuck my life” or “motherbitch” in casual conversation with friends. The key is that I know when it’s appropriate and when it’s not. Does it make me less of a lady to say “fuck my life” to my friends? Perhaps. But less educated? No fucking way.

(3) There is almost nothing I wouldn’t do for my brother or sister. That’s why I’m a little concerned that a judge in Boerne recently released an 18-year old who threatened to recreate the Columbine shootings at Champion High School in Boerne. I’m sorry, but manic depressive trenchcoat mafia members don’t have a place in school next to my little sister. There’s forgiving, and there’s just plain stupid. What the hell.

(4) I really want to graduate from UT. But I’m also concerned about losing my Honors Scholar designation from KSU (which took a great deal of extra work to earn), losing my opportunity to be named a KSU University Scholar, and having to take an extra 2 semesters of courses (meaning 2 more semesters of tuition) just to fulfill UT’s residence requirements for graduation. I’m starting to realize that I have a history at KSU that I won’t be able to recreate at UT. My sorority, my relationships with my professors and the university administrators… I love KSU. I talked to Dr. Davis about taking classes at UT or ACC and transferring those credits back to KSU to fulfill my graduation requirements. It looks like she’s gotten approval from the dean of my college, so I believe that’s the new plan. Maybe now classes won’t get in the way of full-time work, and vice versa.

(5) I’m leaving for the cold zone in just over 2 weeks, and I have zero cold weather clothes. Almost all of my cold weather gear is in Atlanta. So I need to go shopping. But I have no idea what it’s like to be in super cold weather, so I have no idea what to get. And south central Texas isn’t exactly a haven for freeze-appropriate clothing. Sigh.

(6) Mason is holding Karma up in the air and singing “Circle of Life” like he’s in The Lion King. Apparently my life is now a Disney movie. That’s cool. I wonder if I can coax little animals into my apartment to clean things and sew clothing for me, simply by leaning out of the window and singing. It’s worth a shot. * Time passes. * Well, my singing did not lure any forest creatures into my home. However, my upstairs neighbor did throw an empty beer can at my head during the chorus of my song. Damn Disney and its creation of unrealistic life expectations. When I have kids, they’re not watching anything but COPS, Intervention and the Food Network.

(7) Jarrod used to have the most amazing wine glass ever. It looks just like a regular red wine balloon glass, and doesn’t appear to be much larger, but it held an entire bottle of wine. Yes, that’s right. An entire bottle. Jarrod’s glass broke, but we found more on Amazon for $12 each. I want a set of 4 for Christmas. And then, I can say that I’m going to have “just one glass” of wine, and mean it.

(8) My ex apparently thinks it’s okay to be an ass to me, and then request naked pictures of me via text message. Which is more than a little confusing to me. First, why does he think it’s okay to treat me like a possession, even now? I don’t understand how some men think.

(9) Poodles are ugly dogs. Why do we deem it necessary to make matters worse by shaving little pom poms into their fur? Let the poor things have a little dignity…

(10) Why is it so hard to find a good chiropractor? I absolutely adored my chiro in Kennesaw, but every one I’ve been to here in San Antonio is a smarmy weirdo. I miss Dr. Gold and his lovely wife, and their super happy office where everyone is at peace with everything. There were days when I visited the office just to reclaim my sense of inner calm. It was quite possibly the happiest place in K-Town. Anyway, I got a message from an old high school friend on Facebook today, and apparently he is now a chiropractor and has his own practice in Cedar Park, right outside Austin. The office actually looks like it’s pretty close to my favorite apartment choice, Lifetime Fitness and all of the other places I would be spending time at in Austin. I always trusted him implicitly, and I think I might give him a shot when I move. It might be weird to let him manipulate my neck and spine, but it would be cool to refer to him as “Dr. Ditto.” ‘Cause that’s a fun name.

I’m taking a break to go for a walk outside. I may come back and write more later. I’m just not really feeling it right now.

Hyperdrive

Monday, January 26, 2009

My entire life just entered hyperdrive.

(1) Last week, I became 51% owner of a company that develops/sells home hardening, physical security and intelligent video systems. I went from focusing all of my energy (as a paralegal) on the ensuring the company’s certification of nuclear power plants and weapons facilities met Nuclear Regulatory Compliance guidelines, to being a majority shareholder virtually overnight. Don’t ask me how this happened, because I barely know myself. I’m overwhelmed and overstimulated, but completely crazy about the opportunity.

(2) After becoming a majority shareholder of this company, my partner and I agreed to build a new company from the ground up, and dissolve the existing business entity. Doing this for a variety of business and tax reasons, but it’s happening really quickly. Within the next week, I’ll need to have acquired the EIN and name registration, completed the Articles of Incorporation & Partnership Agreement, obtained a state sales tax certificate, found a P.O. box, set up the operations and trust accounts, applied for a DUNS number, set up merchant accounts, and set up all of our benefits like health insurance, tuition reimbursement, HSA, 401(k), gym memberships, etc., and selected our new Mac line.

(3) The new business also requires logo design/signage, and a fairly intricate website. We’re funneling a large amount of money from the existing entity to fund Phases I and II of the redirect, and getting everything in order for the venture capitalists to fund Phases III and IV, which include development and installation of ballistic doors, panic rooms, underground shelters, and super-high tech video analytics. Content development and design meetings are taking up a lot of time this week and next.

(4) Effing business trips. They seem fun, but I’m suddenly planning 5 at once. First, the SXSW Interactive week in March, which isn’t really a trip, but requires planning for hotel rooms, per diems, etc. if we want to write everything off. And it’s a lot of information to absorb. That’s followed by ISC West in Vegas during the first week of April. Then, ASIS International in Anaheim in September. In October, we have ISC East in New York. And sometime in between all of that, a trip to Verona, Italy to hand select our ballistics products.

(5) I mentioned that I’m looking for a Harley. And then it occurred to me that one of our projects will include intelligent video and LPC cameras for motorcycle-based law enforcement officials. And do demonstrate those capabilities, we need actual motorcycles to demo the cameras at different speeds. After a brief conversation with our accountant, we determined that we can write off the cost of up to 2 different motorcycles (one for each system) as long as we place removable company decals on the bikes during demonstrations. I picked out a cute little Sportster. Paul is still debating between a Softail Deluxe and a Victory Vegas. But we went ahead and signed up for the Rider’s Edge class in February, then we have about 60 days to actually buy the bikes (which is necessary to get everything else in place re: bank accounts, taxes, etc.) and this makes me very happy, because I will have my own bike, at no cost to me, in time for R.O.T. in June.

(6) Which leads me to my home search in Austin. I fell in love with a 4/3 off of 620 in Round Rock today, and made the homeowners an offer on the spot. Now I’m just waiting for their response. If they accept, I could be moving as early as next week.

(7) I also need to get our carpenter working on some stable door frames to demonstrate the Strikemaster’s hardening capabilities. This is going to be fun stuff, especially when I hand-pick some of my favorite guys to try to kick in the doors while on video.

(8) This is a lot to handle. So I have to move my surgery back to sometime in May, probably the day after my birthday. But that will still give me plenty of time to heal before peak SCUBA season and R.O.T.

(9) I’ve had 11 cups of coffee today. I don’t plan to sleep. Very, very excite.

Amanda Joy ♥	wait… WHAT?? we need to hang out. for real. Posted by Amanda Joy ♥ on Tuesday, January 27, 2009 – 12:59 AM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

	Kevin	I couldn’t help but notice that in #2, shopping for the Mac line was listed last. Way to divert attention away from what will be done first if it’s not done already! Posted by Kevin on Tuesday, January 27, 2009 – 1:59 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]

michelle cheri

Hahah, Kevin. You caught me. Kind of. You know I already pledged my loyalty to that sexy new Macbook I told you about. But we also need a few new desktops and some fantastic Maccessories. I want to buy those through the business, so I have to get all of the paperwork in order first. By staying up all night, I’m about 80% finished with the documentation. We need to pick a day to take you to Mac training. And another day for you to knock some doors down. Posted by michelle cheri on Tuesday, January 27, 2009 – 2:40 PM [Reply to this]  [Remove]  [Block User]