Tuesday, August 19, 2008

random

There is something so incredibly soothing about rain. It sort of shelters you from the outside world. Whatever your mood - happy, sad, happily sad - you get to keep it. The rain can act as a buffer, a cocoon. I really love that about rain.

another brick

So, recently it has been made known to me that I possess some kind of wall. I'm sure this can be defined any number of different ways and I can't be too sure how it was meant by those who expressed this opinion. Ordinarily I might be able to shrug it off, content in my own skin. Well, ok. Who am I kidding? Most likely it would bother me intensely for about 15 minutes after which I would then throw out a mental whatever and go about my day. The trouble with this particular situation is that they do not appear to be lone statements. I have heard isolated murmurs before - see previously mentioned mental whatever. But this seemed almost to be a coordinated scrutiny. On a single day I was labeled similarly with this affliction by multiple people, at different levels of acquaintance. At no time did I feel attacked or was I under the impression that there was any sense of malevolence. I'm actually not sure of the true intent to be honest. The commentary very much came across as not-quite-casual observations. And my resulting pondering can fit into the same not-quite-casual category.

What does that mean exactly? Is it true? If present, is it intentional? Conscious? Is it something I should feel compelled to knock down? Why is it there to begin with?

Nope. Definitely not feeling casual.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Ramone's Bar and Grill

I have, on occasion while out and about, had someone buy me a drink. I have never, however, had anyone offer me homemade salsa or beanie weenies (that's essentially what that was, right Geege?) for the pleasure of my company. Until last night. God. I love the Cliff.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Saturday, August 16, 2008

pretty pink pyrex

Feeling very suzie-homemaker today. Decided to go with it and have spent the afternoon baking some really incredible (if I do say so myself) bran muffins. Stole a recipe from a fellow Missouri girl and then made it my own. 100% whole grains and organic - because I'm into that lately - to boot. Currently trying to convince myself that the fact that they are super nutritious does not justify un-checked consumption. Am obviously now using blogging as a means of distraction. I don't think it's working.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Good job, you.

There is a house in my neighborhood that I can see from my kitchen window. It sits on the corner lot across the street from my building and is painted a cheerful and friendly yellow. I don't know much about it's occupants; I think there may be a child and I know they use to have frequent parties. The house was an obvious fixer-uper when I first moved here. However, for many years, what - if anything - the owners may have fixed was less than obvious. But over the last few months, changes have abounded. There is now some kind of garage apartment. Simple, yet sweet, landscaping. Yellow paint. These people can stand in their front yard and have visual confirmation of the fruitfulness of their labors. They can pat themselves on their backs for an obvious job well-done. No one happening by would be inclined to doubt that they had, in fact, been very busy little bees.

Over the same period of time, I too have been busy. The first half of 2008 has been monumental for me. I have healed. I have learned. I have explored and I have enjoyed. I am renewed. But these things cannot be seen by the fly-by naked eye. My accomplishments are not so easily verified. Or validated.

Perhaps it's not too late for me to commission a commemorative t-shirt.

In hot pink.

definitely decaf

The strangest thing just happened to me. I stopped by the Starbucks on Gaston and Haskell after completing a 45 minute pre-employment physical at Baylor that mostly consisted of peeing into a cup and wearing various TB masks/respirators. Not exactly the most exciting, or most comfortable, morning of my life so I decided to treat myself to a latte. I ordered, I payed. I received a grande paper cup. Too hot initially for more than just a testing sip, I waited patiently for most of my drive home. When I turned onto my street I gave it another go and decided that something was a little off. I couldn't confirm my suspicions until safely out from behind the wheel and into my apartment. But this is what I discovered: they forgot the espresso. All I made it home with was a medium-sized steamed milk. Lovely.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

weird, right?

While getting ready to leave my house for the day I dressed carelessly and quickly, without a lot of conscious thought. Only when I was ready to go did I glance in the mirror.

My hair is in a sloppier-that-usual ponytail. I'm wearing my favorite comfy jeans that are now baggy from excess wear and wrinkled from a night on the floor. I have on my orange Missouri loves company t-shirt which clashes quite nicely with my chick flick cherry toenail polish. Feet further adorned with my newest (yet, not at all new) Reef flip-flops in a bronzy color. And I'm wearing my opal necklace that matches the one I gave my sister for our 25th birthday. I added a heart charm with Amy inscribed on it - a gift from my Uncle Dave when I was in the 4th grade - to the opal and somehow they work perfectly together.

I feel freakin' invincible.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

to: royal flush blush and senorita rosalita

Yesterday I had some female bonding time with little sister Sarah and little cousin Samantha. I picked up Sam and we went to our Mecca - Starbucks - before heading to DFW to gather Sarah. Sam and I had fun making up people's life stories while waiting in the baggage claim area. Such a Julie thing to do! With Sarah Jo in tow we eventually made it to our girly-girl destination for the afternoon and succumbed to the heady power of the pedicure.

We chatted about boys, books, and beyond. We entertained the other customers with talk about our individual super-spy and superhuman gifts. We weaved a story around our family and our combined influence on the world around us. And we had ourselves one heck of a good time.

Thanks girls:)

Thursday, August 7, 2008

sweet valley twins and the haunted house

It was brought to my attention just yesterday that I have recently been on somewhat of an obsessive reading binge.

Let's be clear: I've always been a voracious reader. I remember being so freakin' excited in the first grade when I was granted extra library privileges and actually allowed to take some of our classroom books home. And I'll never forget the very first chapter book my mom let me buy at our local TG&Y (see blog title). In fact, it's still in the basement of my parent's house. Guess the book hoarding thing I've got going on now isn't exactly a new phenomenon, huh? I also have a very clear memory of being questioned pretty suspiciously by my seventh grade reading teacher when I showed up after one fall weekend with 5 extra credit book reports to hand in. We'd just gotten a new bookstore in a nearby town and I'd gone a little nuts with my allowance money. Yet another sign of things to come:)

But back to the binging. It has been a touch ridiculous as of late. When this observation was made, it came with a challenge to come up with some kind of book total. We initially, briefly, considered a sort of sabbatical tally but gave that up as impossible. A list of summer reads was also considered. This might, with significant effort, be accomplished. But eventually it was decided to simply count up the books I've gone through so far this month.

So, Jul and Sammy Kay here goes. My August total to date is 11 and I'm gonna settle down with number 12 here in another 15 minutes or so. The longest book was the 754 page conclusion to the Twilight series and the shortest was a super quick 239 pager. 4 of the books are part of a set that I've read before and unearthed from under my bed recently. Two were on loan from sister Sarah. Three were brand new additions to my library and another 2 I borrowed from yours Julie. All could be considered fluff as I'm on an anti-highbrow kick currently and loving it. I'll be sure to keep you girls updated as the month progresses . . .

God. I'm such a dork:)

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

gale force

I accidentally got a little too hopped up on caffeine and as a result have been unable to sleep. So I finished another book, thought about cleaning my apartment, and did a little Internet exploring. While reading some random author blog, I clicked on a link to find out what kind of "music" I am. Although I'm not sure I bought the result - classical - I kinda got hooked for a minute on the site. This is a sample of what else I learned about myself:
  • In my past life I was a Lazy Viking who lived in Ireland and was killed in battle.
  • My fashion style is classic and I will be a modern bride.
  • I am both a cherry flavored Popsicle and cherry kiss lip gloss.
  • My Hawaiian name is Lanikai Ululani.
  • The best day for me to date is Tuesday.
  • I am very sexy and I mostly fight fair.

Actually, the quiz that probably was the most accurate was "what your feet say about you." Not exactly sure what to make of that. And while we're on the subject of things I don't understand, what the hell was I - as a lazy Viking - doing fighting a losing battle in Ireland?

Walked by my living room mirror a little while ago and realized that I was having a really good hair day. Great. Except it's not day, it's night. And there's no one around to witness it. Just seems like a little bit of a waste . . . :)

Saturday, August 2, 2008

well, that was stupid

So, I've been kinda hampered by an annoying virus as of late. You know the type - coughing fits just as you're drifting off to sleep, a subtle decrease in energy that worsens the longer you're up and about. Not really feeling sick enough during the day to warrant sympathy from others but definitely not on top of your game. Ya know?

Yesterday I finally decided that I could no longer use it as an excuse to skip out on the whole daily exercise thing. Wasn't really feeling it so brought along a work-out buddy for further motivation. Because it had been a while and I was still a little weaker than normal, I made sure to start out with a good lunch rich in protein and accompanied it with plenty of water for hydration purposes.

Got off to a good but cautious start and gradually picked up the pace to my fast walk - the one I save for exercise and maneuvering the halls of the hospital. For the first mile I did just fine. Even managed to keep up with the flow of conversation. Then I noticed that I was I little more short of breath than normal. Decided it was probably a combo of my residual chest cold and the fact that I usually do this work-out solo and thus without talking. Another half mile or so and I noticed that I wasn't pumping my arms at all and that my pace had slowed. Weird. My muscles felt particularly weak and seemingly all of a sudden I noticed how oppressively hot it was outside.

The nausea hit at mile 2.

A quarter mile from home I was faced with the realization that if I didn't sit down in the next 3 seconds that I was going to either puke or pass out. Or both. I sat.

I sat there on a street corner for a long time waiting for my overheated body to settle itself. And while I sat I did some thinking - mostly of the good job, you variety. 'Cause if you can't be sarcastic with yourself, then who? The thought that perhaps this wasn't exactly the best way to return to my previous level of activity also crossed my mind. I eventually was able to make it back home unassisted, thanks to my superstar exercise partner who had run ahead to get me some cold water. Once safely ensconced in air conditioning, I collapsed (seriously) on my hard wood floor and there I stayed for the next 20 minutes. Mute.

Later - much later - when relating this story with self-deprecating humor to cousin Julie over the phone, I learned a fun tidbit that may have proved helpful before my little delve into heat stroke. Dallas temp: 106. That's degrees, folks. Fahrenheit.

Nice. Very, very nice.

Friday, August 1, 2008

poets and pirates

When I was visiting family in Washington last month I spent some time with my Great Uncle Dee in Spokane. Uncle Dee has a thing for books. He used to own a great little used bookstore but has since retired. I remember whenever he came to Missouri for a visit he would always spend time roaming through our area antique stores and flea markets looking for just one more must have book. He has a wonderful collection of rare and old books - some of which are breathtakingly beautiful. I'm a bit of a hoarder of books myself. But my collection has no real monetary worth, it is instead my own personal (well-used) library. In addition to Uncle Dee's personal collection, he also has an amazing stockpile of used books that he works on cataloguing daily. Because, while he may be officially retired, my Great Uncle Dee is still very much in the book business. His basement showcases row after row after row of bookcases filled with his finds. And for every organized bookcase he has, there is a pile of boxes left to sort through. He uses the Internet to help match books with buyers and seems to enjoy the process.

During my stay he gave me a book he'd found in one of his stacks titled Amy. It was a biography about the early 1900's poet Amy Lowell and he warned me that it would likely be a "bad read." I thought the gesture was really, really sweet and for that reason only opened the book to check out "the world of Amy Lowell and the Imagist Movement." It came as a surprise to both of us that I actually became interested in both poet and movement and decided to continue the book to its completion. It was written a good 30 plus years ago and it's author has since passed away. This fact known to me because I went as far as to Google her with the thought that it might be nice to send a note on how much I enjoyed her work. The book itself is an old hardback (of which I'm not usually a fan) with a faded cover. And has now become a permanent part of my book collection.

Yesterday I went to the big Half Price Books here in Dallas in search of a specific book I'd found mention of in my Internet wanderings. I was unsuccessful in that particular pursuit but prevented a wasted trip by spending a good hour just browsing through the store. Just before I left, another old hardback book with faded cover caught my attention. Amy's Eyes. Curiosity caused me to pull it from the shelf and read the inside cover. It's a children's book about a little girl who becomes a doll and her adventures with her sea captain doll who had become a man. I have no idea if this new Amy will be able to hold my interest but as I flipped through the pages I found something else that did. An old photograph, that had obviously been used as a bookmark by the book's previous owner, showed a picture of a little boy sitting on top of a zebra. The zebra was of the inanimate object variety and seemed to be standing guard at some sort of carnival or fair. The boy had a shy, but still toothy, smile for the camera and I was instantly charmed. So, my book collection has grown by yet one more and I am now in fairly desperate need of my own basement library. Which, logically, puts me in even more desperate need of an actual basement:)