I don't feel up to telling stories last night. I just want to introduce you all to My New Best Friend (sorry Venus, Nouns, GP, LC... you are all out... this guy is a keeper).
MNBF: "I like your gold Jesus sandals."
Me: "There is no way that Jesus wore gold sandals... that's just not his style... too flashy."
MNBF: "You are probably right, platinum then?"
MNBF: "Wait, you don't like hamburgers? That's unamerican."
Me: "I know, I've been told."
MNBF: "Can I at least have five minutes of your time to try and talk you into this?"
Me: "Sure"
MNBF: "Great, I only needed three."
MNBF: "Wait you paint?"
Me: "Yeah"
MNBF: "Will you paint a life-sized portrait of me and my room mate in head to toe denim standing back to back."
Me: "Sure, but something that ridiculous is really going to cost you."
MNBF: "You know Budweiser is the King of Beers."
Me: "Don't you feel like that is a little presumptuous? That's like calling yourself the King of Awesome. Wait, you'd probably love that wouldn't you."
MNBF: "No way. There's no way I'd want to be responsible for an entire kingdom."
MNBF: "I am a very intelligent person, I just can't spell."
Me: "Fair enough, everyone has their Achilles Heel."
MNBF: "Don't try and be so ostentatious."
Me: "Oh my god, please try and spell that. Come on, for sheer entertainment value."
MNBF: "uhhh... I think its u-r-a-n-a-s-s-h-o-l-e. Something like that, I might have left out a hand gesture or something."
MNBF: "I'm anti-anti."
Me: "What does that even mean?"
MNBF: "I can't really explain it"
Me: "Seriously, I think I've got time. Try."
MNBF: "I just really hate people who hate people just to hate people."
Me: "See, that wasn't so hard. A little absurd, but not that hard."
MNBF:"We have Sunday Dinner."
Me: "What does that consist of?"
MNBF: "Me and my room mate go out to dinner every Sunday and take turns buying."
Me: "Just so you know, that is a man date.... and IT IS PRECIOUS."
(apparently MNBF had not ever realized that he had been dating his room mate because this revelation BLEW his mind.)
MNBF: "NO...NO... THAT IS NOT A MAN DATE."
Me: "Do you light candles? Go somewhere with violins playing in the background. Take a nice warm bath together afterwards?"
MNBF:"Seriously... this isn't funny."
Me: "You are right, I shouldn't be mocking young love. I wish you all the best."
MNBF: "We are recording Harry Potter right now."
Me: "You wouldn't kid a girl about a thing like that, would you?"
MNBF: "You, ma'am, are gorgeous."
Me: "You, sir, are drunk."
Monday, June 23, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Today's post is brought to us by the number 123
Today we did a fitness assesment in boot camp. The test is on a three hundred point scale with 100 points alloted to your number of push ups in two minutes, number of sit ups in two minutes and time on a two mile run.
To obtain the maximum number of points from each test, as a female age 22-26, I needed to complete 46 push ups, 80 sit ups, and run two miles in 15:36.
Now I have to say that I am a fairly athletic person. I have played sports all of my life and I work out regularly. However, my score was a 123. Less than half!
I did 33 push ups, which gave me the majority of my points - 82. From that score simple subtraction can tell you that I didn't score too well in the other two catergories.
Sit ups were next. I guess I am used to crunches, because I suck hard core at full sit ups with your hands behind your head.
To set the scene, my partner had just completed 46 sit ups, and it was her turn to hold my ankles keeping my feet in place and count my sit ups. I do three right away and need a break.
"Come on, you can do it. You still have a minute and a half"
I come up to a 45 degree angle and fall back down.
"Okay take a break, lets get a full sit up. We only want to do the one's that count!"
She was so enthusiastic. So I rested and got another.
"Good, you've got thrity seconds left. Lets get a few more good one's in."
I give some whole hearted tries, but can't seem to get past 45 degrees. I hear the 5 seconds left call and muster out one more.
So 5. That's how many sit ups I did. But as our instructor says, "I don't care if you can only do three, you own it." So I am owning it. I did 5 sit ups in two minutes. Its not even on the grid to count my points (it stops at 21), but for my age group its practically one point per sit up, so I gave myself 5 points.
Finally we get to the two mile run. I can run, that's not a problem. I get my ipod in and just plod away. The thing is you don't get points for not walking, you get points for pace, and my pace is slow. So I finish my two miles with Shoulders, Nouns started ahead and finished way ahead. My time was 22:00. 11 minute miles, way to go... Anyway, that pace gets me 36 points.
When I came home after our workout and figured out my points from the grid I was annoyed. I am not that person. I am definitely not the 300 person, but I feel I should be over 150 at least. Then I remembered something my Mom had said to me earlier in the week when I told her about the testing and the point scale system.
"Don't kill yourself over the first test. That way when you push yourself at the end of boot camp you'll be able to show improvement."
Thanks Mom. She always knows how to make me feel better about myself. So I'm actually okay with my 123. I know I can improve on that. Especially because this afternoon I decided to try the sit ups again and did 10. I doubled it. I rule.
To obtain the maximum number of points from each test, as a female age 22-26, I needed to complete 46 push ups, 80 sit ups, and run two miles in 15:36.
Now I have to say that I am a fairly athletic person. I have played sports all of my life and I work out regularly. However, my score was a 123. Less than half!
I did 33 push ups, which gave me the majority of my points - 82. From that score simple subtraction can tell you that I didn't score too well in the other two catergories.
Sit ups were next. I guess I am used to crunches, because I suck hard core at full sit ups with your hands behind your head.
To set the scene, my partner had just completed 46 sit ups, and it was her turn to hold my ankles keeping my feet in place and count my sit ups. I do three right away and need a break.
"Come on, you can do it. You still have a minute and a half"
I come up to a 45 degree angle and fall back down.
"Okay take a break, lets get a full sit up. We only want to do the one's that count!"
She was so enthusiastic. So I rested and got another.
"Good, you've got thrity seconds left. Lets get a few more good one's in."
I give some whole hearted tries, but can't seem to get past 45 degrees. I hear the 5 seconds left call and muster out one more.
So 5. That's how many sit ups I did. But as our instructor says, "I don't care if you can only do three, you own it." So I am owning it. I did 5 sit ups in two minutes. Its not even on the grid to count my points (it stops at 21), but for my age group its practically one point per sit up, so I gave myself 5 points.
Finally we get to the two mile run. I can run, that's not a problem. I get my ipod in and just plod away. The thing is you don't get points for not walking, you get points for pace, and my pace is slow. So I finish my two miles with Shoulders, Nouns started ahead and finished way ahead. My time was 22:00. 11 minute miles, way to go... Anyway, that pace gets me 36 points.
When I came home after our workout and figured out my points from the grid I was annoyed. I am not that person. I am definitely not the 300 person, but I feel I should be over 150 at least. Then I remembered something my Mom had said to me earlier in the week when I told her about the testing and the point scale system.
"Don't kill yourself over the first test. That way when you push yourself at the end of boot camp you'll be able to show improvement."
Thanks Mom. She always knows how to make me feel better about myself. So I'm actually okay with my 123. I know I can improve on that. Especially because this afternoon I decided to try the sit ups again and did 10. I doubled it. I rule.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Heckling Men in Tight Pants
Last night the entire crew plus one attended our first Texas Rangers baseball game. In true form, we arrived about 45 minutes late, headed straight to the concession stand to buy $7 beers and proceeded to say inappropriate things in front of children.
(Note: There was a child there with his father who was both swinging a plastic bat, and rolling around recklessly on those damn roller skate shoes. From previous posts you should know how I feel about those shoes. I can't understand what would allow any human being to arm their offspring and then set them loose in a crowd at high speeds. I felt like calling CPS. I am adding this story to the letter I am writing my congressman in favor of spiking the drinking supply with birth control.)
Our tickets are in the outfield on the second deck. We get in line to take the escalator up and the hobbit checking tickets informs us that we are not allowed to take our beers from downstairs upstairs even though they are in plastic cups. Any logical person would have just taken the stairs or found some way around this situation. We shrug our shoulders and begin to pound 22 ounces of frosty deliciousness. I suggested that the hobbit is merely trying to get us drunk and take advantage of us. Someone says, "I don't even want to imagine what that would look like." Which leads me immediately to imagine what the Hobbit would look like.... I almost spit my beer all over a small family trying to hold in my mix of disgust and bemusement.
I am already feeling a little buzzed. So I am thrilled when I realize that the crowd hates this guy on the opposing team who was formerly a Ranger and then made a big stink about getting off the team. I decide to try my hand at insulting him.
With the general boo's of the crowd in the background, I shout with all my might....
"YOUR PANTS ARE TIGHT"
"YOUR WIFE IS A BAD COOK"
and
"YOU SMELL LIKE PICKLES"
I was thrilled with myself and GP and Venus let out a resounding round of giggles. Some guys behind us were talking about security and Venus automatically assumes that they are trying to have me thrown out of the game. GP spent the entire game looking at baseball rosters on her iPhone in an attempt to find a new conquest. And I can only assume that Nouns spent the entire game trying to refrain from impulsively running her fingers through the AMAZING mullet of the man in front of her. I wish I could say that I was actually thrown out. Instead I got drunk and hit on by old men. Thus is my life.
(Note: There was a child there with his father who was both swinging a plastic bat, and rolling around recklessly on those damn roller skate shoes. From previous posts you should know how I feel about those shoes. I can't understand what would allow any human being to arm their offspring and then set them loose in a crowd at high speeds. I felt like calling CPS. I am adding this story to the letter I am writing my congressman in favor of spiking the drinking supply with birth control.)
Our tickets are in the outfield on the second deck. We get in line to take the escalator up and the hobbit checking tickets informs us that we are not allowed to take our beers from downstairs upstairs even though they are in plastic cups. Any logical person would have just taken the stairs or found some way around this situation. We shrug our shoulders and begin to pound 22 ounces of frosty deliciousness. I suggested that the hobbit is merely trying to get us drunk and take advantage of us. Someone says, "I don't even want to imagine what that would look like." Which leads me immediately to imagine what the Hobbit would look like.... I almost spit my beer all over a small family trying to hold in my mix of disgust and bemusement.
I am already feeling a little buzzed. So I am thrilled when I realize that the crowd hates this guy on the opposing team who was formerly a Ranger and then made a big stink about getting off the team. I decide to try my hand at insulting him.
With the general boo's of the crowd in the background, I shout with all my might....
"YOUR PANTS ARE TIGHT"
"YOUR WIFE IS A BAD COOK"
and
"YOU SMELL LIKE PICKLES"
I was thrilled with myself and GP and Venus let out a resounding round of giggles. Some guys behind us were talking about security and Venus automatically assumes that they are trying to have me thrown out of the game. GP spent the entire game looking at baseball rosters on her iPhone in an attempt to find a new conquest. And I can only assume that Nouns spent the entire game trying to refrain from impulsively running her fingers through the AMAZING mullet of the man in front of her. I wish I could say that I was actually thrown out. Instead I got drunk and hit on by old men. Thus is my life.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
One Ass Slap Away From Certain Death
So, it's been awhile since I blogged... The busy Dallas life has lured me away, but good news friends, I am back (and basically only because of two things... 1. Booze - shocking, I know, and 2. The undeniable guilt placed upon me by Venus). Needless to say, much has happened since my last post, but I can only really detail one event at a time. This post will (by popular demand) document the silliness that was last Saturday night.
Nouns, Venus, and I decided (shockingly) to go out on the Uptown. Venus had gotten a tip from a co-worker on where to go. We show up there, it appears to be both closed and a clothier. Not sure what that means, but the doors didn't say "boozery," so we abandoned those plans to go to some other bar that we never even made it to. Instead we stopped at a neighborhood bar that we had visited a time or two before. Things were looking a little bleak. Aside from a table full of men who managed to say "check out those three" just loud enough for us to hear upon entry, the crowd was a little sub par.
As we stood awkwardly in the path of EVERYONE in the bar, two uh... guys? approached.
Fuh-reak #1: "Guess what we did today" (yes that really was his opener, I couldn't make that up.)
(my immediate impulse was to say 'celebrated the legalization of gay marriage in Texas with a modest, but lovely ceremony?' somehow, I censored myself -don't worry...I WILL NEVER LET ME LIVE IT DOWN.)
Venus: "Uh......"
Fuh-reak # 2: "We laid out by a pool" (revealing sunburn)
They followed up this conversation by 1) abbreviating the word obvious 2) referring to something as "sex" (as in 'this Mexican food is sex in my mouth') and finally 3) hugging each of us as they left.
They said something awkward along the lines of :
Fuh-reak #2: "Well, we are going to go outside now...... (awkward pause)"
Nouns: "OK, we might join you later?"
We were just about to follow these guys outside just for the sheer entertainment factor when a tall gent turns and says something charming (read: something an asshole would say). I immediately eat it up.
We continue talking to this guy and his two friends. HIGHLIGHTS:
Thing One: "This is my special friend [Jerry's Kid]."
Nouns: "Special like Jerry's Kids?"
Thing Two: "This is Jerry's son!"
Me: "How do you spell your name"
(he spells it)
Me: "Oh, the cool way!" (obligatory high five)
Thing One: "That is so sweet, you are being nice to him because he is special."
Thing One (who I am clearly now drunkenly throwing myself at): "I think I want a cigarette. See if you can go steal me one and we will split it."
Me: (with stars in my eyes) "Okay!"
Me: "I need to ask you a favor. Can I borrow a cigarette?"
Me: "And by borrow I mean have..."
Matchstick man: "Yeah, sure, I'm [matchstick man]."
Me: "Yeah great, you are a god among men, see you later."
Thing One: "Thanks, you are awesome."
Me: "I know, can we go somewhere he can't see you smoke his cigarette?"
Thing One: "Oh, he knew it was coming."
Me: "I told him he was a god among men."
Thing One: "How poetic, but don't you thing that was kind of overkill? That guy is a douche."
Me: "Every dog needs their day."
Thing One: "Wow..."
Needless to say, when the bar closed Venus and I decide to post party with these guys. They are jerks, as funny as we are, and they are offering us free beer. Nouns concedes to go home as she has been out late the night before and she has to work in the morning.
Being as it was Father's Day weekend, we had been commenting on the large number of decrepit old people at the bar. One in particular had caught our eye at around closing time. I SWEAR ON A LITER OF VODKA THIS WOMAN THOUGHT SHE WAS SAMANTHA FROM SEX AND THE CITY. We briefly try to guess this cougar's age then think nothing more of it.
We arrive at said post party. Who should be there but the afore mentioned cougar. Thing One, Thing Two, Venus, and I giggle endlessly. We go in, partake in some libations, and continue to try and guess the Cougar's age. Keep in mind that the oldest of the guys is around 26. Guesses range from 32 to 48. After my second beer I am determined to put a stop to it.
Thing One: "No way man. She is at least 40."
Me: "That's it, I've had enough... I am going to finish this."
(I've clearly devised a plan. I run over to the balcony where The Cougar and several others are standing)
Me (to Jerry's Kid): "We are playing a drinking game, what's your birthday?"
Jerry's Kid: "May 5th."
Me: "of what year?"
Jerry's Kid: "1984"
Me: "Shit!" (I drink half of my beer and turn to some other guy)
Me: "You, what's your birthday?"
Random Guy: "September 23"
Me:"of what year?"
Random Guy: "1983"
Me: "Shit" (drink half of what's left and turn to The Cougar)
Me: "What's your birthday?"
The Cougar: "I don't want to say, I'm embarrassed, I'm old."
Me: "Oh, shut up you look great!"
The Cougar (obviously trying to lie but to drunk to do so): "19...80...uh....70....1964!!!!!"
Me: "OH SHIT!!!!" (I chug my beer and run away)
Of course I shared my information with my comrades. They all died of laughter. All of the sudden Venus gets a funny look on her face and says "SHE IS THE SAME AGE AS MY MOM!"
Nouns, Venus, and I decided (shockingly) to go out on the Uptown. Venus had gotten a tip from a co-worker on where to go. We show up there, it appears to be both closed and a clothier. Not sure what that means, but the doors didn't say "boozery," so we abandoned those plans to go to some other bar that we never even made it to. Instead we stopped at a neighborhood bar that we had visited a time or two before. Things were looking a little bleak. Aside from a table full of men who managed to say "check out those three" just loud enough for us to hear upon entry, the crowd was a little sub par.
As we stood awkwardly in the path of EVERYONE in the bar, two uh... guys? approached.
Fuh-reak #1: "Guess what we did today" (yes that really was his opener, I couldn't make that up.)
(my immediate impulse was to say 'celebrated the legalization of gay marriage in Texas with a modest, but lovely ceremony?' somehow, I censored myself -don't worry...I WILL NEVER LET ME LIVE IT DOWN.)
Venus: "Uh......"
Fuh-reak # 2: "We laid out by a pool" (revealing sunburn)
They followed up this conversation by 1) abbreviating the word obvious 2) referring to something as "sex" (as in 'this Mexican food is sex in my mouth') and finally 3) hugging each of us as they left.
They said something awkward along the lines of :
Fuh-reak #2: "Well, we are going to go outside now...... (awkward pause)"
Nouns: "OK, we might join you later?"
We were just about to follow these guys outside just for the sheer entertainment factor when a tall gent turns and says something charming (read: something an asshole would say). I immediately eat it up.
We continue talking to this guy and his two friends. HIGHLIGHTS:
Thing One: "This is my special friend [Jerry's Kid]."
Nouns: "Special like Jerry's Kids?"
Thing Two: "This is Jerry's son!"
Me: "How do you spell your name"
(he spells it)
Me: "Oh, the cool way!" (obligatory high five)
Thing One: "That is so sweet, you are being nice to him because he is special."
Thing One (who I am clearly now drunkenly throwing myself at): "I think I want a cigarette. See if you can go steal me one and we will split it."
Me: (with stars in my eyes) "Okay!"
Me: "I need to ask you a favor. Can I borrow a cigarette?"
Me: "And by borrow I mean have..."
Matchstick man: "Yeah, sure, I'm [matchstick man]."
Me: "Yeah great, you are a god among men, see you later."
Thing One: "Thanks, you are awesome."
Me: "I know, can we go somewhere he can't see you smoke his cigarette?"
Thing One: "Oh, he knew it was coming."
Me: "I told him he was a god among men."
Thing One: "How poetic, but don't you thing that was kind of overkill? That guy is a douche."
Me: "Every dog needs their day."
Thing One: "Wow..."
Needless to say, when the bar closed Venus and I decide to post party with these guys. They are jerks, as funny as we are, and they are offering us free beer. Nouns concedes to go home as she has been out late the night before and she has to work in the morning.
Being as it was Father's Day weekend, we had been commenting on the large number of decrepit old people at the bar. One in particular had caught our eye at around closing time. I SWEAR ON A LITER OF VODKA THIS WOMAN THOUGHT SHE WAS SAMANTHA FROM SEX AND THE CITY. We briefly try to guess this cougar's age then think nothing more of it.
We arrive at said post party. Who should be there but the afore mentioned cougar. Thing One, Thing Two, Venus, and I giggle endlessly. We go in, partake in some libations, and continue to try and guess the Cougar's age. Keep in mind that the oldest of the guys is around 26. Guesses range from 32 to 48. After my second beer I am determined to put a stop to it.
Thing One: "No way man. She is at least 40."
Me: "That's it, I've had enough... I am going to finish this."
(I've clearly devised a plan. I run over to the balcony where The Cougar and several others are standing)
Me (to Jerry's Kid): "We are playing a drinking game, what's your birthday?"
Jerry's Kid: "May 5th."
Me: "of what year?"
Jerry's Kid: "1984"
Me: "Shit!" (I drink half of my beer and turn to some other guy)
Me: "You, what's your birthday?"
Random Guy: "September 23"
Me:"of what year?"
Random Guy: "1983"
Me: "Shit" (drink half of what's left and turn to The Cougar)
Me: "What's your birthday?"
The Cougar: "I don't want to say, I'm embarrassed, I'm old."
Me: "Oh, shut up you look great!"
The Cougar (obviously trying to lie but to drunk to do so): "19...80...uh....70....1964!!!!!"
Me: "OH SHIT!!!!" (I chug my beer and run away)
Of course I shared my information with my comrades. They all died of laughter. All of the sudden Venus gets a funny look on her face and says "SHE IS THE SAME AGE AS MY MOM!"
Thing One has decided that he MUST figure out this woman. I give him my blessing and send him over to chat her up. They are talking for quite some time and I look up and they have begun to dance.
Now, I saw Thing One dance earlier in the night and he was a great dancer. As soon as he starts dancing with this woman he busts out some PHENOMENAL moves. I'm talking clog dancing, crazy kick moves, and even a little lasso action. Venus, Thing Two and I sit on the couch giggling endlessly. At one point the following series of events were born:
1. Venus laughs at The Cougar.
2. The Cougar locks eyes with Venus and says "STOP LAUGHING AT ME BITCH!" with the force of Nouns calling dibs.
3. Thing one senses something is amiss. To remedy the situation he reels back as hard as he can and slaps The Cougar's ass.
4. The Cougar is so thrilled by said ass slapping that she forgets that Venus exits and instead topples to the floor in a drunken heap.
Later in the night Thing Two tries to convince Venus that in a fight Venus could take The Cougar. Venus' both comical and true line of response"
Venus: "No way. She is packing 43 years of pain behind that punch."
Thing One invites me back to his place after I inadvertently say "cheap champagne is sex" which is misinterpreted as "this hoe wants to have sex with you." Nothing monumental happened, but there was an exchange of numbers, so we shall see my friends. I spent the remainder of the next day napping in my dad's pool because, after all, it was father's day.
More posting to come soon on the topics of the responsibility of being the Paris Hilton of the Auto Auction, Boot Camp Blunders, and so much more.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Did someone really give me a job??
My office building has a parking garage....
I was given a special sticker to open said garage on my first day of work. I got all the way to the elevator at the end of the day last Monday and realized that I had forgotten the parking pass. I go back, search my cubicle and come up with nothing. I find it five minutes later in my co-workers cubicle. The next morning I get to work, reach into my purse for the sticker and again....come up with nothing.
Perplexed as to its whereabouts I park on the street, hang my head in shame and head up to the 9th floor. Not wanting to admit how irresponsible and well, stupid I am to my co-workers, I continue to park on the street for the rest of the week.
Today I had planned on admitting my foolishness and asking for a new parking pass, but couldn't muster up the courage (guess I wouldn't be a Gryffindor....).
In a rare moment of productivity I decided to clean my kitchen tonight. I reach for one of the many plastic Tupperware containers on the counter to rinse out its contents before shoving it into the dishwasher....
The parking pass is inside.
I was given a special sticker to open said garage on my first day of work. I got all the way to the elevator at the end of the day last Monday and realized that I had forgotten the parking pass. I go back, search my cubicle and come up with nothing. I find it five minutes later in my co-workers cubicle. The next morning I get to work, reach into my purse for the sticker and again....come up with nothing.
Perplexed as to its whereabouts I park on the street, hang my head in shame and head up to the 9th floor. Not wanting to admit how irresponsible and well, stupid I am to my co-workers, I continue to park on the street for the rest of the week.
Today I had planned on admitting my foolishness and asking for a new parking pass, but couldn't muster up the courage (guess I wouldn't be a Gryffindor....).
In a rare moment of productivity I decided to clean my kitchen tonight. I reach for one of the many plastic Tupperware containers on the counter to rinse out its contents before shoving it into the dishwasher....
The parking pass is inside.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
TKD: The Chicken Little of Our Time
I'm trying to get used to Dallas. I've been venturing out during the day to run errands and learn how to get back and forth from my house. I wish this city would have straight roads, but no everything curves and merges and turns into one ways. I'm astonished I haven't been sideswiped yet.
I am going to have to agree with Venus on the bored thing. There is no one here doing something all the time. Everyone is working. I don't start work for another week and a half, and all I want to do is play. I want to find someone to play with me!
This weekend should be the perfect opportunity for the four of us to go out together and get our Dallas night life going, but of course I have to go out of town my first full weekend as a Dallas resident. My cousin, who I love to death, (he was one of the main reasons I went to school where I did) is getting married this weekend. So I will be in Houston for that. I don't particularly mind because it is going to be a bad ass wedding with a lot of my cousin's hot friends and plenty of booze. The timing just sucks.
On a side note:
Watch out for cranes. Tae Kwan Do (my guy friend from engineering who took TDK at school) came over to hang out at the pool with me yesterday for a little while. While laying out on the chairs, you can look up and see the huge cranes from the construction going on next door. TDK makes a comment about all of those cranes that have been falling on people in the news, and how those people need to be careful on their crane. Then today, I am working out and a guy comes in from the pool and asks if I am watching the news. Of course I am not watching the Dallas news, its still not relevant to me, yet I am watching E!. He says there are two news helicopters flying over our part of town and he was wondering what was going on. A few minutes later one of the leasing office girls comes in and tells me that a crane from the construction site fell on a man and killed him. Turns out it was a hook that fell off the crane that killed the guy, but are you kidding me? Close enough! TKD totally called it. I was way freaked out by all of it.
On a different note:
I need some sort of weekly posting. I probably could do conquest of the week or something like that at the rate I had been going, but I am going to try to turn over a new leaf in Dallas...So give me some ideas.
I am going to have to agree with Venus on the bored thing. There is no one here doing something all the time. Everyone is working. I don't start work for another week and a half, and all I want to do is play. I want to find someone to play with me!
This weekend should be the perfect opportunity for the four of us to go out together and get our Dallas night life going, but of course I have to go out of town my first full weekend as a Dallas resident. My cousin, who I love to death, (he was one of the main reasons I went to school where I did) is getting married this weekend. So I will be in Houston for that. I don't particularly mind because it is going to be a bad ass wedding with a lot of my cousin's hot friends and plenty of booze. The timing just sucks.
On a side note:
Watch out for cranes. Tae Kwan Do (my guy friend from engineering who took TDK at school) came over to hang out at the pool with me yesterday for a little while. While laying out on the chairs, you can look up and see the huge cranes from the construction going on next door. TDK makes a comment about all of those cranes that have been falling on people in the news, and how those people need to be careful on their crane. Then today, I am working out and a guy comes in from the pool and asks if I am watching the news. Of course I am not watching the Dallas news, its still not relevant to me, yet I am watching E!. He says there are two news helicopters flying over our part of town and he was wondering what was going on. A few minutes later one of the leasing office girls comes in and tells me that a crane from the construction site fell on a man and killed him. Turns out it was a hook that fell off the crane that killed the guy, but are you kidding me? Close enough! TKD totally called it. I was way freaked out by all of it.
On a different note:
I need some sort of weekly posting. I probably could do conquest of the week or something like that at the rate I had been going, but I am going to try to turn over a new leaf in Dallas...So give me some ideas.
Monday, June 9, 2008
"I'd tap that."
I know, I know....it's been a while. But honestly, no one has really struck my fancy as of late. (Unless you count any guy who has asked me to dance/if I wanted another drink....)
This evening I ventured over to Casa Ale/The Brothel to watch our usual Monday night shows. After those were over, we (mostly me) were sucked in to "Nashville Star." Despite the pounding headaches and bleeding ears that ensued as a result of watching the show, I am SURE that not a single one of us regrets our experience. Why is that??
Meet contestant Justin Gaston....
I've never seen country music look like that before.
This evening I ventured over to Casa Ale/The Brothel to watch our usual Monday night shows. After those were over, we (mostly me) were sucked in to "Nashville Star." Despite the pounding headaches and bleeding ears that ensued as a result of watching the show, I am SURE that not a single one of us regrets our experience. Why is that??
Meet contestant Justin Gaston....
I've never seen country music look like that before.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
The Quest to be a "Real Person"
I've been in Dallas two days and I'm already having trouble with this new life.
Today has been the most productive day of my life in probably MONTHS. Made coffee....read the morning paper....hit up the Farmer's Market with Nouns, Shoulders and GP....bought a new suit for work tomorrow...went to the grocery store, etc. etc. etc.
Good things, yes. And, when you aren't drunk productive things don't take nearly as much time either.
So here I am....alone in my apartment....wondering what to do next.
In my day and a half of pseudo solitude I've realized something: I'm not very good at being alone. When we all lived back in Austin there was ALWAYS someone doing something. I was rarely in my house, likely out with friends, and more often than not consuming an alcoholic beverage or.....12.
So, I need to find something to occupy my time. Not just now.....all the time. Somehow, I don't think five day weekends of binge drinking and a real corporate job mix. Just a hunch. Thus, I need a hobby.
I hate scrapbooking (despite the fact that I am actually really good at it). I don't want to collect ANYTHING (Well, actually I'd collect designer handbags but obviously that's a habit my entry-level position can't afford....and somehow I don't think that's a hobby). And I'm so sick of everyone talking about how they are going to run a marathon, so I'm definitely NOT making that my hobby.
(Sidebar to all of you hopeful marathon "runners" out there....I don't believe most of you. And if you are serious? Get ready for a COMMITMENT. I ran cross country in high school and we ran every morning at 7am, including throughout the Texas summers, just to run a 2 mile race. Mull that over and multiply it by 13. Also, walking the majority of the race is not "running" a marathon...it's "walking" a marathon.)
Phew, I'm done with my rant....back to the point.
This all leads me to choosing a potential hobby. And, I've picked......Tennis. I love being outdoors and I'm fairly athletic (although my hand-eye coordination is lacking) so it seems to be a good idea. Tennis doesn't take too many people, too much equipment and you can still play when you are old (Unlike my first love, soccer, which at the ripe old age of 21 I am already too old and fat to play anymore). PLUS, tennis outfits are ridiculously cute.
So, my next course of action is to research (cheap) tennis lessons and attempt to recruit one of my other Dallas counterparts to join with me (Nouns?? GP?? Shoulders??). I'll keep everyone posted on the status of this little "mission."
In the meantime, I'm having a glass of wine.
Old habits die hard.
Today has been the most productive day of my life in probably MONTHS. Made coffee....read the morning paper....hit up the Farmer's Market with Nouns, Shoulders and GP....bought a new suit for work tomorrow...went to the grocery store, etc. etc. etc.
Good things, yes. And, when you aren't drunk productive things don't take nearly as much time either.
So here I am....alone in my apartment....wondering what to do next.
In my day and a half of pseudo solitude I've realized something: I'm not very good at being alone. When we all lived back in Austin there was ALWAYS someone doing something. I was rarely in my house, likely out with friends, and more often than not consuming an alcoholic beverage or.....12.
So, I need to find something to occupy my time. Not just now.....all the time. Somehow, I don't think five day weekends of binge drinking and a real corporate job mix. Just a hunch. Thus, I need a hobby.
I hate scrapbooking (despite the fact that I am actually really good at it). I don't want to collect ANYTHING (Well, actually I'd collect designer handbags but obviously that's a habit my entry-level position can't afford....and somehow I don't think that's a hobby). And I'm so sick of everyone talking about how they are going to run a marathon, so I'm definitely NOT making that my hobby.
(Sidebar to all of you hopeful marathon "runners" out there....I don't believe most of you. And if you are serious? Get ready for a COMMITMENT. I ran cross country in high school and we ran every morning at 7am, including throughout the Texas summers, just to run a 2 mile race. Mull that over and multiply it by 13. Also, walking the majority of the race is not "running" a marathon...it's "walking" a marathon.)
Phew, I'm done with my rant....back to the point.
This all leads me to choosing a potential hobby. And, I've picked......Tennis. I love being outdoors and I'm fairly athletic (although my hand-eye coordination is lacking) so it seems to be a good idea. Tennis doesn't take too many people, too much equipment and you can still play when you are old (Unlike my first love, soccer, which at the ripe old age of 21 I am already too old and fat to play anymore). PLUS, tennis outfits are ridiculously cute.
So, my next course of action is to research (cheap) tennis lessons and attempt to recruit one of my other Dallas counterparts to join with me (Nouns?? GP?? Shoulders??). I'll keep everyone posted on the status of this little "mission."
In the meantime, I'm having a glass of wine.
Old habits die hard.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Drunk Food
So I am back from Europe and the one thing I have been craving more than anything is cottage cheese. I love it, especially when I am drunk.
Well no one in my house eats it, so of course there is none in the fridge after I get home from a 12 day trip, and I hadn't had a chance to run to the grocery store to go pick some up. However, tonight after drinks with Boat Party and her roommate at the campus bar I decided I must have cottage cheese, now.
On my way home from the bar, I stop at the grocery store. I love that mine is open 24 hrs, especially for emergency cheese situations such as this one.
There is something I didn't think about, though. Gross creeper men stock the shelves at midnight, which is a very very boring job. So me going in there in my jean skirt and boobs hanging out gave them something to break the monotony of their job. Lucky me. I got in, got my cottage cheese and then got in line....
Oh the line...the guy in front of me had about 25 items in his basket (not too bad) for which he proceeded to read the entire label of each one before placing it on the belt. Seriously. He ready both liters of orange juice. Both of his chuck ground meat packages. His seafood salads. His pineapple yogurt four packs (checking each individual cup). But crazy doesn't look particularly crazy - he's in khaki pants and a top, looks about 25, has a nice haircut, there are no signs that this dude is nuts. I can't understand it.
I look around to move lines, but there is only one other one and it is forever long. I guess everyone had caught on to the the crazy guy but me.
The poor checker dealing with crazy guy calls another checker to the front, thankfully. I move two aisles over and get out of there. As I am walking out the doors so is crazy. I turn to look at him as he breaks into a run and then hops on his cart to ride to his car. Even though he made it take longer to get to eat my cottage cheese, I had to break into a smile when I saw that.
Well no one in my house eats it, so of course there is none in the fridge after I get home from a 12 day trip, and I hadn't had a chance to run to the grocery store to go pick some up. However, tonight after drinks with Boat Party and her roommate at the campus bar I decided I must have cottage cheese, now.
On my way home from the bar, I stop at the grocery store. I love that mine is open 24 hrs, especially for emergency cheese situations such as this one.
There is something I didn't think about, though. Gross creeper men stock the shelves at midnight, which is a very very boring job. So me going in there in my jean skirt and boobs hanging out gave them something to break the monotony of their job. Lucky me. I got in, got my cottage cheese and then got in line....
Oh the line...the guy in front of me had about 25 items in his basket (not too bad) for which he proceeded to read the entire label of each one before placing it on the belt. Seriously. He ready both liters of orange juice. Both of his chuck ground meat packages. His seafood salads. His pineapple yogurt four packs (checking each individual cup). But crazy doesn't look particularly crazy - he's in khaki pants and a top, looks about 25, has a nice haircut, there are no signs that this dude is nuts. I can't understand it.
I look around to move lines, but there is only one other one and it is forever long. I guess everyone had caught on to the the crazy guy but me.
The poor checker dealing with crazy guy calls another checker to the front, thankfully. I move two aisles over and get out of there. As I am walking out the doors so is crazy. I turn to look at him as he breaks into a run and then hops on his cart to ride to his car. Even though he made it take longer to get to eat my cottage cheese, I had to break into a smile when I saw that.
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