Merry Christmas.

Someone must have thought I was somewhat of a good girl this year, because I actually had a pleasant Christmas this time around. Previous years have always been dreaded, and though this year started out no differently, it came around quite pleasantly.

Details omitted, the holidays were spent with those closest to me. It was a time of wonderful food and genuine laughter and smiles.

Starbucks is one of the ways to my heart. Thank you for all the gift cards, everyone.


Christmas Breakfast - My father makes the best crepes, ever! Mmmm!

most wanted - part 2.

Yes, part 2. Can you believe it - it happened again!

While at work, I recieved yet another peculiar phone call. This time it was the goverment trying to issue a subpoena for me to appear in court. The state was requesting my presence as a witness in court. You can only imagine my skepticism and frustration while returning this phone call.

Once again, after spending relentless minutes on the phone, I was able to convince the gentlemen that they quite possibly had the wrong person. I did not recognize the other party's name. I was not the one they were trying to contact. Again, I just happened to share the same name.

I do not know how many more instances like these I can handle.

Secret Santa.

The concept of a jolly fat man flying across the world with reindeers delivering presents while indulging in cookies and milk has always been beyond me ever since I was little. The fact that, even as adults, people play on this concept is entertaining. But hey, who am I to be a grinch.

Playing Secret Santa is always interesting because some people are spoiled by a creative, generous Santa while others are paired with a more clueless one. The great part about it all is that it reminds you that this time of year is about giving, not receiving, and above all, being thankful for everything around you.


Thank you, Secret Santa. Thank you for a fun week of candy, games, and gift giving.

from across the fucking world.

How the hell do my parents do it? From across the fucking world they can still create such problems? Seriously!

most wanted.

Apparently my life is to be spent running from the law. There is a poster with my face on it in every cop car.

As if getting pulled over and getting a ticket was not enough, I had to receive a phone call from the Denton County Deputy a day later informing me of a warrant for my arrest. You can only imagine my reaction to this...Shut the fuck up!

I immediately looked up the phone number to make sure the phone call was legit. Sure enough - Denton County Deputy Office. It was very much legit. Shit. I was wanted for a check written back in August of 2005 to Mr. Jim's pizza with insufficient funds.

I firmly explained to the Deputy that this is all beyond my league and kindly asked him to explain the logistics from the beginning. To which he replied, we can handle this one of two ways...one, I send someone to arrest you...or two, my favorite, you take care of this on your own and handle all fees owed.

Excuse me, but that implies that I am, in fact, guilty of the accused charges. So let me first explain to you that I never order pizza, and if I did, I would pay cash, not check. Secondly, I have never had Mr. Jim's in my life. Papa John's is my pizza of choice, in case you need to write that down. Thirdly, if I ever did write a check I would definitely have more than enough funds in my account - not enough to cover the cost of a pizza? Are you fucking kidding me?

A series of privacy questions followed, and an hour later he thanked me for my patience in the matter (did I have a fucking choice?) and said that he will keep in touch as he clears up the misunderstanding and finds the person he is really looking for. Same name, same date of birth.

just because you have a gun.

Just because you have a gun and your penis is smaller than your badge does NOT mean you can lecture me on my driving record.

Officer who pulled me over, all YOU need to be concerned about is the stop sign I just ran. Not the previous traffic violations, incidents, and classes I have taken in the past. Those incidents are in no way directly related to the matter at hand. You do not need to remind me of those times. You have no right to judge me. You were not there. You do not know what happened. It does not concern you.

Your job is to uphold the law so do so by writing up my damn citation and leaving me the fuck alone. It is not your job to tell me how I have wronged in the past. How dare you judge me. You see that one thing on my record and label me immediately. Someone ought to write your white ass up.

Fuck you.

worker's compensation.

Being 5'1" is dangerous, especially if you have a job which requires you to continuously reach for items on tall shelves. Inbetween each isle of drugs is a stool of some sort for me and another vertically challenged technician. While reaching for Celexa, which is atop the first isle of drugs, I had to use the assistance of a crate, our makeshift stepping stool.

On a normal day, and with cautious stepping, this crate would suffice and would help me reach the top shelves with no problem whatsoever. Yesterday, however, we were busier than our normal Sunday, and I hastily stepped onto the crate without looking. While reaching for the drug, I felt an inbalance below me and sure enough, the right side of the crate tipped, and I proceeded to fall.

The crate flipped, and I just happened to land right back on it - with my ass, and not my two feet. My right arm knocked the shelves of drugs, and bottles came falling on my head. It was disasterous.

Being the badass (and stubborn) person that I am, I shook it off and continued to work not realizing how badly I had just fallen. Little did I know that the next day I would not be able to sit on a toilet to urinate, let alone sit in a chair for eight hours at work.

Luckily, I did not fall directly on my ass, but rather somewhat to the side. It could have been a lot worse, in that I could have broken or bruised my tailbone. I still wish I could sit comfortably on the toliet though.


Above is a picture of the hand that broke my fall. The bandaid covering up flesh, as the shelf tore away some of my skin. Though you may not be able to see, it is also slightly swollen and turning a lovely shade of purple/green.


And this, my [very close] friends, is my fat, hairy ass. (I apologize for not putting a disclaimer on this entry but I figure only a few people know and visit this page.) All I have to say is...it hurts!

playlist this.

For the first time since last December, I took more than five days off work. Thanksgiving break was exactly what I needed - nothing too wild and exciting, just the right amount of fun and relaxation.

"Thank goodness you, and not some foreigner, answered the phone. What is with the foreigners there? I don't understand them. They don't understand me. And they sure as hell do not know what they are doing!" God, what would the world be like without honest and outspoken people? Rude, you say? Yeah, maybe - but hell, it is the story of my life at the pharmacy. Someone needs to send them back home.

Check out some of the artists on my current playlist: Silverchair, Shiny Toy Guns, Mika. A change in pace - kind of refreshing.

December already? Seriously? Crazy.

Romo, you are killing me. Do you not remember the last time you were with Jessica? Or how about when you were with Carrie? Let me remind you...


In March and April it is all about college basketball. In December and January, I look forward to putting my attention into college football, with conference and bowl games. This season has left me a bit disinterested. Not only did UT not perform as well as I had hoped, but several teams which deserve to be atop the BCS poll are not. LSU and Ohio State in the Championship Game? Really? Who wants to watch that?

My blood pressure was 90/62. I know high blood pressure is bad, but what about low blood pressure?

It is Secret Santa time again. Anyone have any good ideas? I need four small gift ideas, and then one larger gift for the last day.

As weeks go by, and more episodes are aired, I am beginning to worry about the effects of the writers' strike. Several shows are already in jeopardy. Many more will be airing reruns soon. What am I going to do? I just got back into television!

I like to take pictures of the dishes I make. It makes me feel like I am not completely useless in the kitchen.

Udon noodles.
(Credit for this one goes out to Fung who made me some in Austin and inspired me.)
Grilled Chicken. Rice. Broccoli.
(The chicken is a bit charred, I know.)

Austin bits.

Trudy's at last. Spoiled with good liquor, I had my Mexican Martini top shelf - Patron. It was delicious.

If I was taking apartment warming gifts, I would ask for a bong. While at the Hookah Lounge, I discovered an alternative relaxation treatment - smoking hookah while watching basketball. You have no idea.

Big dogs scare me. They hurt my boobs when they push off my chest.

Bars with live fish under the dance floor are amazing.


I never thought I would be bringing Britney back, but I did. You know you wish you could sing like me, Julie.

Formal was ridiculously long, but I am glad I decided to go this semester. Congratulations to all the girls. Hurray for being the oldest girl there. Thank goodness for hotel bars.

Gay club at last. This was quite the experience - Thank you, Tammy, for introducing me to your world of fun. The club was nice, the music was good, and some of the gay guys were ridiculously hot. Damnit.

Jello shots will never go out of style. Phuong and I whipped up some red and green ones in 10 minutes, and they were delicious.

Falling asleep at end of the bed never grows old.

West Campus has changed so much. Or should I say West Campus is in the process of changing so much! There was construction on every fucking corner. I honestly did not recognize the neighborhood when I first got there. Oh, and I found myself saying, "Back when I lived here..." God, I am getting old.

And what is a weekend with my Vivian without her Hook'em hand. Cheers to more weekends in Austin!

hangovers hurt.

Why do I never learn? I miss the days when I could drink shot after shot, beer after beer, and wake up the next morning only to do it all over again. No aftermath. I had no idea what a hangover felt like. Now I do.

Old age + an alcohol saturated liver = misery for hours.

Average time of recovery usually takes me to 8 pm the following day. A whole day spent nauseas and aching. It takes a definite toll on my body, and I pay the consequences. I do not have the option of spending the whole day wincing in bed. Shortly after calling it a night (when the bars close at 2 am), I have to wake up to go to work. Knowing damn well I have to work 11+ hours the following day, I still choose to drink like alcohol is going out of style. Let me tell you (in case you do not know...), it makes for a horrible work day.