another one bites the dust.

The year 2009 just has not been kind. Another loving soul has left us.

The thing I will remember the most is this conversation we had about his marriage and how he and his wife would FIND the time to just sit and talk after their days work. He said they would sit on the patio with a drink in hand and would listen to one another’s day and that meant a lot to him. I thought to myself…how wonderful that must have been and how that will be no more. I would love to have had that!

He was that kind of guy. He made time for small talk and appreciated every moment in life. At work he always called me "kid" and always asked how my day was. I still remember the times he would stop by the pharmacy just to say "hi." I only wish I could have visited him more often, especially when he was diagnosed. I know he is in a better place now...and taking care of his wife from up above. He will be missed, and I will think of him every time I read about or watch Penn State football.

Rest in peace, Richard (Dick) Russell.

happy birthday, dad.

Today was my dad's 62nd birthday. American birthday, that is.

We had the usual noodle-eating, gift-giving, candle-blowing birthday. Everything was going as usual, until my father decided to blurt this out...

"In ten years, when I turn 72, I want a grand child for my birthday."

Oh. Okay, dad.

(I pretended not to hear him...)

we're all human...and make mistakes.

Voepel: After extreme DUI charge, Taurasi is no All Star





Taurasi is still an All-Star in my eyes. Shit, she can apparently drink most girls under the table with a BAC of 0.17.

Whitey went out with a bang!

The idea was to start posting again (with words, not just pictures) once I regained full movement in my left hand. Rehab is proving more difficult than I thought, so looks like I am just going to have to recap the accident...

Fucking 18 year old lied to his mother about going to Lifetime Fitness. Instead, the fucker was going to his friend's house. Stupid fool must have had hot girls and a million dollars waiting for him or something because the idiot turned right in front of me (with absolutely no room to turn), and I T-ed him going about 47 mph. No room to brake; no time to avoid it. The last words out of my mouth before the crash were, What the Fuck?!

My car lands on someone's front lawn. Air bags deploy. Fortunately, I walked away with just a broken hand. How the hell I broke it remains a mystery.


The end. The end of my golf-ball car, Whitey.

David Bowie, drool.

I totally want this T-shirt...

Magneto.

Introducing my first grown up purchase...my new car, Magneto.





Yeah, I know it is gay to name cars. But I had to out of respect for Whitey.

I feel spoiled even though I went with a basic model - I now have automatic, tinted windows AND automatic locks! After owning the car for almost a month, I still find myself using the key to unlock the car door.

*edit*

Fuck - I really need to remember that this car is way lower than the Corolla...

junk mail.

I wonder which mailing list brought this piece of mail to my door...

nike, what?

I love the work of Nike. The puppets look just like 'em!

the irony.

Shortly after my last post, I found myself in an accident of my own. Because blogging is just not as fun when typing with one hand, a more detailed post will have to wait. It has been an incredibly challenging, long month.

Appreciate your limbs. It is amazing the things you cannot do when without one.

...and then there were...none.

It is record-setting. It is heart-breaking. It is tragic. This morning news of yet another person I once knew has passed away. Less than twenty days ago, a gentle, kind-hearted young man left us.

DC,

What the hell happened, man? We have not talked in so long, so imagine my disbelief when I found out. I wanted so hard to believe it was someone else. I was told to Google your incident to read more about it. I wish I hadn't.

What the hell were you doing? Were you fucked up? Were you really on your way to work? I know you would not take your life - so why the hell did you bust-a-u on the Tollway? Why?! What were you thinking? Your fiance. Your little baby girl. What are they going to do without you?

I hope you did not suffer. I hope you are resting in peace. You deserve the best any world can offer you. You may not have made the best choices all the time, but you always had everyone's best interest at heart. I will never forget the times we shared. Our rooftop moments. The night outside Mark's apartment. Your apartment. Endless nights at Bennigan's. Your smile and laugh were infectious. Your memories live inside of me.

Rest in Peace.

i'm real.

"Sometimes I just don't know about you..."

Though they may not seem like hurtful words, they hit me hard. Real hard. Coming from someone I trust and someone who is genuinely honest. For someone like that to not know...to have doubts about me and my actions...it does not feel good.

When I asked what he meant and what he did not know, he replied by saying I was "too nice." I must have missed the memo where every once in awhile we are supposed to be bastards to our friends so that they do not question our motives. So that we do not come across as "too nice."

I do not think I am "too nice." Not even close. I must admit that I am probably nicer to him than I am to others, but that is only because he is truly one of the most sincere people I have ever met. I have never had even an inkling of desire to be rude or mean to him, never had a reason. Maybe he needs to see the bitch in me to know that I am real.

one size does not fit all.

Dear Leasing Office Bitch,

I do not hate you because you are fat. I hate you because I partially blame you for my missing Victoria Secret Package. I blame you because you never seem to give a damn. Whether it is because you think I am a little kid unworthy of your efforts or undivided attention or because you hate your job. I hate you. I hate the way you talk. I hate the way you fix your bra strap mid conversation. I hate that you were probably responsible for my lost package and will not get off your lazy, fat ass to investigate the matter.

I know these hateful words will not bring to life my misplaced panties and bras. I know I must sound shallow and materialistic. I am just angry. Extremely angry. Again, I do not hate you because you are fat, but I do believe you would be a better person if you dropped a few hundred pounds and pretended to care.


Sincerely,

Unhappy Tenant

slightly shaken, never stirred.

Overwhelmed by a craving for a frappaccino, I caved and indulged in a vanilla bean one. If I am not mistaken, it was the first frappaccino I had had since high school. It was delicious until it became all frothy. My Tall order was just enough to satisfy my craving.

My bad luck with cameras (and cell phones) precedes me. Goodbye, Sony Cybershot. Though you did not have the quickest shutter speed or the steadiest shot, you were a clean looking camera, and I liked you. I gave into my girly tastes when I bought you. How could you let me down for no good reason at all?

Stupid Parks and Recreation show. The only line worthy of quoting during the entire first 30 minute episode was, "...what I hear when I am being yelled at are people caring loudly at me."

I will admit, there are times I spend more time getting ready for the gym than I do getting ready for work. Basketball shoes or cross-trainers? Tank top or t-shirt? Some times I even smell better when I go to the gym. Don't judge.

I am very much a local-bar girl. Though I would not consider it a 'dive' or hole-in-the-wall, Austin Avenue is far from The Living Room or Ghost Bar, even. And I love it like that. No worries about what to wear. No one to judge. Always interesting people to meet. Always a good time to be had.

Another tax day has come and gone. I have come up with my own personal slogan...

Each year I owe more and more.
The government sees me as a money sucking whore.

missing March and its Madness.

All the anxiety that precedes the Mavericks and the other teams fighting for the last few spots in the playoffs does not even compare to that which encompasses the tournament. Every year I talk about how March is my favorite month, and every year it never lets me down. Though this year's tournament did not seem as exciting to some because it seemed to favor all the top seeded teams, it was still in high spirits. I am going to step outside the box and say that this year I actually enjoyed watching the Women's tournament and the NIT slightly more than the Men's tournament.

Only in the Women's tournament will you see players on the floor crying tears of happiness and sadness (unless Adam Morrison is playing). Only would a player on the Sooners womens team offer to payback her scholarship if her team did not win the championship. Only in the Women's tournament would a coach ignore one of his top players to prove a point. Only in the Women's tournament is 50+ points a high scoring game.

Oh, and only for the Women's tournament, would a video be made with a Miley Cyrus song...



Congratulations to the UConn Women's Basketball Team and UNC's Men's Team.

bookmark this page.

For the first time since the Goosebumps (R.L. Stine) days, I finished a book - cover to cover. (So what if it took me over two months.)



It is no Shakespeare...or Stephenie Meyer for that matter. Rather, it is written in a language that I understand - caustic wit, and is about real life situations and insights, not vampires and the frivolous labor of love.

Recommended by a friend, the book has encouraged me to recognize and consider all passing intuitions and thoughts. I have an appreciation for humor, and now more so for satirical humor. The fact that words on a page can make me laugh out loud brings me hope. Hope for nothing in particular, just hope and glee. (That's right, bitches, I used the word 'glee.')

C. Parker.

When I first heard she was going to be on the cover of ESPN pregnant, I thought 'ew.' But now that I have seen it, I think 'dayum.'


Only Candace Parker can make being pregnant look hot. (Even Alba did not look this good.)

my idols.

Let's hear it for my favorite idols this season...

Adam Lambert and Anoop(dog) Desai.

Anoop won me over with his UNC gigs posted on YouTube. He gives Chris Brown and T-Pain a run for their money. I would love to see someone like him win Idol, though I do not think he will win all of America over.

But I absolutely love Adam. Something about him is just so hot.

piercing random thoughts.

"If bad things are happening to people around you, then I do not want to be around you."

I miss my piercing. So I got another one. I like piercings.


It is no tongue ring, but it will have to do...for now.

I had a One Tree Hill marathon to catch myself up on this season's episodes. Some of the episodes made me tear up...

General Hospital needs to develop a good story line...SOON!

I have worked only 15.5 out of my 83+ scheduled hours this week. Wish me luck.

Damn Longhorns play with no heart. Stupid Mavericks play with no heart. March is supposed to be a good month!

Watching ABDC makes me wish I could dance. Quest and Beat Freaks were amazing - 'Freak your dream.'

Flautas at Taco Cabana are heavenly. I cannot believe I just discovered them.

I am not a victim.

I have had the past few Sundays off from both jobs. A new routine has developed: church in the morning and Starbucks in the afternoon. I decided to attend church not to find God or establish a faith in any religion, but rather gravitated to a place where I could possibly listen to some words of guidance and maybe grasp a sense of direction.

Starbucks is my home away from home. I can sit there and people-watch all day, with my iTouch plugged into my ears and an invisible bubble around me and my table and chair next to the window.

Today, I sat there thinking about all the realities I have been faced with this year. All the misfortunes, and all the uncertainties to come. I went to church this morning in hopes that I could clear my mind, only to find out about another misfortune. Without hesitation, I put my name on the bone marrow registry today. Jodie is such a kind, and wholesome person. She deserves to live; her family deserves to have her in their lives. The least I could do is have my cheeks swabbed in hopes that I am a match. Though the likelihood of that is one in a million.

I miss the carefree days of being in school, when my only real responsibility was to bring home decent grades, which I barely managed to do post-10th grade. Now, I am faced with real world challenges and obstacles. This 'recession' is not going away. And for the first time in my life, I fear for my future that I have no control over. I heard about all the people that were laid off at TI. And then there were all the people at Exxon. But now it is hitting harder at home. I saw it coming...and now it is here.

I am not a victim. But I refuse to be a bystander.

lip slut.

I have been called a lip slut.

During college, I discovered this entertaining habit of making out with random guys in bars/clubs. It was fun; but that game ended when I left Austin.

This past weekend, my lips resurfaced. On night one, I made out with two random guys. Separately, of course. Night two, I took a break. Night three, my lips got action again.

Too bad this lip slut is still single.