It is raining. I am sitting in the "gameroom" at my apartment complex, one of the employees of latin origin is eating her lunch, intently watching her soap on the big screen.
It isn't raining. It's some where between raining and pouring.
I feel as huge as humpty dumpty, and I have to work in two hours.
I am happy...
Overall I am very happy...
Nothing is perfect, but everything is perfect...
I'm in love, I have a family, I have friends, and some people think I'm pretty all right...
Yes...
Happy

About a month and a half ago, my very wise Grandma Judy said to me, "when God closes one door, he opens another."
Or something to that effect. I would quote directly, but my school has banned evil Facebook from usage.
At the time I was feeling like a pile of not-quite-human shit, reeling at the completely unfair hand that life had dealt me. Well, now time has passed, and prespectives have changed, and as that door behind me slid into its jamb and finally settled into its place, not only did another door open, but the best person that's ever happened to me came walking through.

Grandmas are so wise.

Through countless amounts of lachrymal secretions blown into the nearest item of soiled laundry; through hand cramps and spent pens and about thirty trees worth of journal paper; through the exhaustion of any unsuspecting eardrum within my vicinity; through the answer of why this happened and where this is going finally seeming to come into focus; and through meeting Forrest, I am well on my way to being myself again...

Regardless of the fact that my life for the past few months reads like an outline for any given episode of Jerry Springer, I am happy.

I reckon that is life

There's too much to elaborate on.
Let's just say, I've needed this time to write endlessly in my journal, and therefore haven't had the time or energy to write here.
How about, I'm going to be a mommy, and I'll be chosing the baby's name myself.
That says volumes.

ugh...

YAY!

I'm going to a Roundrock Express game tonight!

Pictures and funny anecdotes to follow...

101X Grind Festival

I'm sorry. These pictures are in the opposite of chronological order.
They are in chronoillogical order.
Pretend you are time travelling and everything will be okay.

My horrific sun burn.

The mos beautiful thing I've ever seen polluting water.

This was absolutely necessary.

Through the ancient art of wizardry, Steve smashed his water bottle into this. Be very afraid.

Aww.

Token campus photo.

That time when we were in jail. And you wonder why we're so hard...

Can any one say "supermodels"? I can.

Hello, Renaissance Festival, we found your tent...

I hail the crotch of the Lone Star!

Steve asked for my camera under the guise of taking a picture of Mel and me, but took this one instead. There's one for the mantle!

Steve playing with his thingy.

Who would spray tan in public where people like me can take a picture and stick it on their blog?

Wake boarding, sans wake. Should be called cable boarding.

Those kids were playing their rock-n-roll too darned loud! Jimminy Cricket!

I should be a sports photographer I am so awesome.

What else can I say besides yum-diddly.

I dunno.

Awesome trick! Wow! And his voice didn't even crack as he soared through the air...

Something smells fishy...

I just made, and subsequently ate, sweet potatoes, swiss chard, and mahi mahi. First off, I am a master of sweet potatoes, so of course they were delicious. Second, you've never tasted swiss chard until you've had mine, cooked Asian style. Chances are, you've never had swiss chard any way. It's one of those highly nutritious, dense leafy greens that you find glistening in the produce section, that most Americans tend to avoid.
But not me. I gobble em up!
Now the mahi (I only say "mahi" once because it wasn't tasty enough to warrant saying twice)was a different story. In the collection of the many things I've tried and easily mastered or become enviably proficient at in my life, making fish is not included. It was meh.
And now my house smells like a dumpster at a fish market.

Confession

I still love Marilyn Manson.

Do you have a confession?

Another response to mystery commenter (you really should be reading these)

That was alot to swallow after having literally woken up 3 minutes ago.

But I'm not going to rip you a new one. Why would I retaliate against one of the few people who has read my entire blog and took enough time to write me a post-size comment?

The fact of the matter is, my life isn't precisely as I'd like it to be right now. I admit that.
I work at Kerbey Lane, which, as you correstly surmised, isn't what I'd like to call "my career". But to say that I didn't want to call my old job (if you've read my entire blog, you know what that was) "my career" would be even more true.
It is true that I'm not travelling now, and what travel plans I do have for the near future don't consist of a six month stint in South America. It is true that things aren't as carefree for me as they used to be. It is true that I've gained weight, due %95 to the fact that I no longer have my old job.
I'm in a period of paying my dues. Because yes, working when you want, drinking, spending the days at the greenbelt, saving money and travelling is a fun way to live life, but it's not going to get me where I really want to go.
I'm in school full time now. I work full time now. Does this make for an exciting life? Not so much. Is it necessary? Absolutely.
Some day I'd love to join the Peace Corps. You need a bachelors degree to do this. I'd love to write for a travel magazine, or a newspaper some day. You don't just need to travel to do this, you need an education and credentials.
I'm not going to school for a business degree or a computer science degree. I'm going for a degree in Journalism with a minor in Spanish, so I can acquire the knowledge I need to make those dreams my reality, not just temporary haituses between long periods of working in a club.
Can you imagine how easy it would be to go to school full time working until 2:30 every morning, and under the influence of certain people in that scene?
I'm not a person that was brought up with alot of discipline, so the answer to that question is, not very.

So maybe I have a boyfriend who doesn't like to read, and maybe he has a girlfriend who doesn't care about working on cars. These things aren't the only things you need from a relationship.
And incidently, my last boyfriend, with whom I had a great relationship, would read my blog (when I made him...even though he liked to read in general), and he didn't like it. He didn't like the way I wrote.
To be honest many of the people closest to me in my life don't read my blog: my best friend, my mom, my boyfriend, my sister.
So big frigging deal. Maybe I like it that way. Leaves me free to write about them unabashedly.

Maybe all of this is just a big justification. Jusitification and reason, there's a fine line between the two.

I just feel like I'm doing what I have to be doing right now. It's not very glamorous, but I'm 26 by now. I don't want to be working in bars and restaurants forever. I want to be able to accomplish the things that can make my life great, and not just 1/3 of it, while the other 2/3's I try and hide.

to the person who left a comment on the next to last post

Nicely written, but not exactly spot on.
A change of circumstances doesn't exactly equate to laziness or neglect.
Also, I'm not exactly sure how I've tried to cover my ailing lawn with distracting lawn ornaments.
And I certainly haven't installed a middle finger shaped pool. (Though, if there was a pool shaped like a finger, how would you be able to tell which one it was? I'm sure you meant "shaped like a hand giving the middle finger.")
I guess I'm misunderstood, even by my self, but especially by other people.

And really, I've never been too lazy to water my own lawn. Everything has its turn.

p.s. I really did enjoy the writing.


If you care to read the comment I'm writing about, and you haven't gleaned its location from the title, look at the post which begins "The grass is greener on the side you water."

I got one vote on a "shut the fuck up" at the end of a post!!!!!
I'm pretty sure this is the dramatic highlight of my day.
I was sad it wasn't accompanied by any comments, much less a hateful one!
I suppose I get some sort of demented charge out of people being mean or confrontational to me. My heart starts pounding, my brain racing to find an appropriate reaction.
I love it and I hate it.
But the ugly truth of the matter is, I spend more hours of my day imagining possible scenarios in which a violent showdown might occur than I do anything besides sleeping or working.
It's easy since it finds its way into most of my daily activities. What would go down if a perceived malicious askance glace turned into snarky comment? Would I have to throw down in the hallway of my school with a complete stranger? How would I take her down? If she's a hair puller, am I willing to risk my luxurious mane to win the fight? What if she's well versed in jiujitsu?
And what if a dissatisfied customer threw their drink on me? Or smashed a plate of cold, undercooked food into my chest? What would I say? I've come up with so many perfect things. Would I just clock her right there? Or if I was feeling espcecially testy, would I pick up the aforementioned plate and smash her face with it? How much time would I spend in jail for doing that?
I think these things and my heart gets to racing, and I just pray that someone will cross me, because goddamnit, I am prepared.
Let's not even get into constant car wreck fantasies whilst driving?
We all do that though, right?
The point is, if you feel like it, don't be afraid to drink your haterade and throw a little my way. It'll give me something to compulsively and systematically figure out how to approach, and finally, never deal with.
Maybe I have too much time on my hands.

"The grass is greener on the side you water."

Hmmmmm....
I like that.

Except it's not really true. We're talking about the desirabiltity of that which you don't have...the unattainable.
I can set my sprinkler system for 6:30 both times around the clock, feed it miracle grow every day, heck, I could even play it classical music, but no matter how good my grass gets to looking, there's always going to be something I don't have that I want, that looks a hell of alot better than what I have, just because I don't have it.

(Successful) adages become adages because they're true. Come up with new ones, but leave the time tested alone. It's lasted for a reason, that reason being that it accurately portrays a facet of the human experience, regardless of what era it's used in.
Until we've all acheived Buddha nature, I think this one will apply.

Maybe this was just someone's nice way of telling me to stop complaining. They're probably right.
But I probably won't.

It's in my nature to be dissatisfied with my position. Accept it.

p.s. now's not a good time for losing weight