that she made it home okay. Which is good because my thumb...not so okay. And sleeping on the couch, didn't so much do much good to that hand. Why am I still sleeping on the couch? Cause it's a bit comfy for one (creature of habit...yeah it was only a week. and what).
I have been pulling lots of long nights for deadlines but all have been worth it. All caught up come this weekend. But that's all on the scrap blog so...
In real life...I get to help with planning my high school reunion for this October. It is so great to be back in touch with so many people. Awesome really. Tracking people down. Not so awesome. Especially when myspace is down and all my cheap hs people's (well...to be fair...we were broke and then some) hang out there.
So yesterday, I'm chilling on myspace (not at work of course) and this individual who I would have never thought in a million years I'd ever see again contacted me. The power of connection I tell you. I had been chatting with a mutual friend who is dating his cousin. Who knew. Emailed me all like "hey...remember me." Duh...I only had the hugest, biggest, totally uncontrollable crush on him. Then I met his green eyed best friend. I'm messing. This stuff is funny but my BF is right...after the reunion I have to get off of Myspace. Nothing good can come of that place.
Speaking of BF, we get to swim 12 laps today...I can do it. And then to his place for tacos. Love his tacos...love them. I'm so hungry...think it's time to order some lunch. Have to eat early or I'll sink. According to some Today show "expert" that is a wives tale but let me tell you of some cramps I've had in that pool. Maybe I'll get 15 laps in today...3 with flippers of course. Cheaters never win...but it will keep me going instead of just standing on the edge of the pool. Think we might have to dive in with someone else doing laps because that is what keeps me going back and forth...not wanting to be lapped. Drown halfway from lack of breath but damned if I'ma let you pass me on the wall. Well...at least not more than twice.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
So...
...I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm nervous and I'm here. All of that. At once.
Just put mom and the cutest little cute thing in the world back on the bus to El Paso. As he was leaving he broke my heart. Finally gave and took a kiss. Asked me when I was moving back to El Paso for good. Asked why we all just couldn't live in one big house all together. Asked me to be sure to tell the bf that he was going to be sorely missed.
He blew me a kiss from the window and I lost it. Sat in the car and cried for a good 10 minutes. I'm about to start crying right now just thinking about him.
I will never let another three years (or even a year) go by without seeing them. There is no excuse for that. I am so happy that my mother made the sacrifice that she did to come out and see me. So happy that she is happy for me and what I have done. Love that she loved my place. Love that she felt comfortable.
Only regrets: No ferry ride and didn't get to take them to meet the Oly folks. They'll just have to come back. And I get to go and see them in 3 months. Or is it one? Actually, it is 2. I so cannot wait to see them again!
Friday, July 14, 2006
I'ma knock them eyes to the back of yo head boy!
Okay...I'm dressed appropriately today. I contemplated a tank under my summery shirt, but it's hot up in here.
But still...dressed respectfully enough to get comps from the boss (a female...it's coming).
So why the hell did this old dirty man I just met with about his pitifully STUPID scores meet with me for 8 minutes and spend 6 of those minutes blatantly staring at something that sure ain't his to stare at? I'd tell my BF but he'd hop in the car, drive to the SeaTac Holiday Inn and tell a boy something. And he's so not the violent type. Till you mess with his B. Right...I got it like that.
I so needa be out of here. It's a beautiful day out, I get to go swimming in about 3.5 hours then I kiss that boyfriend mentioned above goodbye and work like heck to get everything settled for mom. I can do it...just a few scrap deadlines to address. A little bit of work to do...
But still...dressed respectfully enough to get comps from the boss (a female...it's coming).
So why the hell did this old dirty man I just met with about his pitifully STUPID scores meet with me for 8 minutes and spend 6 of those minutes blatantly staring at something that sure ain't his to stare at? I'd tell my BF but he'd hop in the car, drive to the SeaTac Holiday Inn and tell a boy something. And he's so not the violent type. Till you mess with his B. Right...I got it like that.
I so needa be out of here. It's a beautiful day out, I get to go swimming in about 3.5 hours then I kiss that boyfriend mentioned above goodbye and work like heck to get everything settled for mom. I can do it...just a few scrap deadlines to address. A little bit of work to do...
Double Stuffed Oreos
Okay...you know I don't like them. Cause, they're cookies and they are Oreos. And this guy...in the 6th grade...called me an Oreo. If he could see me now he might call me double stuffed come to think of it.
But I digress.
So...hamsters...do they take baths? My nephew, all 8 cute years of him, has a mother who tries really hard to teach him responsibility. I know I know...work with me those that know her.
Anyhow. She, some 3 or so months ago, brings home Double Stuffed Oreo--the hamster. I suppose it had like a black head and black behind and the rest of him was white. And he was chunky.
Anyhow, the nephew names him Double Stuffed. I called mom last Friday when I was trying to get her to commit to a bus schedule already and she informs me that said nephew is tossing the hamster around. No, not like bouncing him off the walls--he's not THAT cruel. But he was tossing him in the air (almost to the ceiling--supposedly) and letting him land on the couch. Hamsters are not cats. But I've never had a hamster so I don't dare make any correlations to what follows. But the boy said he was experimenting...let a budding scientist be!
On Saturday, nephew is giving DSO a bath. In the tub. Given his ADD (sit down already!!), he of course has to run out real quick to tell grandma something. He goes back in and he calls frantically back out to grandma to come here. Grabbing DSO out the tub (limp of course) they proceed to try some "chest massages" and argue over who is going to wrap their lips around those pointy sharp fangs.
DSO is no longer with us. Well...not really.
But wait for it.
So...my mother has a sister who is pure evil. I liken her to Satan. She further traumatizes my ultra adorable nephew by telling him he is a murderer and will go to hell for what he did. She probably threw in something about that being why he won't ever see his brothers again. She's like that.
But wait for it.
Nephew is depressed and cute, always wanting to do right mother of his (she, for nothing else, has an absolute heart of gold) comes up with the idea to burry the thing. No, not just in the backyard--they live in an apartment complex so that wouldn't work. Originally, the plan was to go to unincorporated Chaparrel (sp?) NM and burry the thing out there with my grandmother. Ahhh...how sentimental.
Evidently, the desert lot just outside their complex was a bit more convenient.
Wait for it I said...
So they burry DSO. Rest in peace.
Now. I knew my nephew liked scary movies. I know he watches them. But I thought Pet Cemetary was before his time. He went back out there (to pay his respects, so my sister thought he was doing) and promptly dug that thing back up. Uhmmmmm....
yeah.
That's the "it" you were waiting for.
But I digress.
So...hamsters...do they take baths? My nephew, all 8 cute years of him, has a mother who tries really hard to teach him responsibility. I know I know...work with me those that know her.
Anyhow. She, some 3 or so months ago, brings home Double Stuffed Oreo--the hamster. I suppose it had like a black head and black behind and the rest of him was white. And he was chunky.
Anyhow, the nephew names him Double Stuffed. I called mom last Friday when I was trying to get her to commit to a bus schedule already and she informs me that said nephew is tossing the hamster around. No, not like bouncing him off the walls--he's not THAT cruel. But he was tossing him in the air (almost to the ceiling--supposedly) and letting him land on the couch. Hamsters are not cats. But I've never had a hamster so I don't dare make any correlations to what follows. But the boy said he was experimenting...let a budding scientist be!
On Saturday, nephew is giving DSO a bath. In the tub. Given his ADD (sit down already!!), he of course has to run out real quick to tell grandma something. He goes back in and he calls frantically back out to grandma to come here. Grabbing DSO out the tub (limp of course) they proceed to try some "chest massages" and argue over who is going to wrap their lips around those pointy sharp fangs.
DSO is no longer with us. Well...not really.
But wait for it.
So...my mother has a sister who is pure evil. I liken her to Satan. She further traumatizes my ultra adorable nephew by telling him he is a murderer and will go to hell for what he did. She probably threw in something about that being why he won't ever see his brothers again. She's like that.
But wait for it.
Nephew is depressed and cute, always wanting to do right mother of his (she, for nothing else, has an absolute heart of gold) comes up with the idea to burry the thing. No, not just in the backyard--they live in an apartment complex so that wouldn't work. Originally, the plan was to go to unincorporated Chaparrel (sp?) NM and burry the thing out there with my grandmother. Ahhh...how sentimental.
Evidently, the desert lot just outside their complex was a bit more convenient.
Wait for it I said...
So they burry DSO. Rest in peace.
Now. I knew my nephew liked scary movies. I know he watches them. But I thought Pet Cemetary was before his time. He went back out there (to pay his respects, so my sister thought he was doing) and promptly dug that thing back up. Uhmmmmm....
yeah.
That's the "it" you were waiting for.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Who dat woman is?
Well...she sorta looks like...and she kinda sounds like...and I know she can shop right? Well, not so much. But she will ooh and ahh at things like baby deer right? Well, of course. Especially if they are not road kill.
That woman, she would be my mama. No...I am NOT the spawn of Satan. Spawn of anything for that matter.
She, of all glorious momminess (I kid you not, there are at least three generations of folks about to attest to this) is coming to Seattle! From El Paso! On a bus. Yes. A bus. Don't ask.
But I will tell. Longer than you can hold it.
Why yes, there are no straight shots between the two because evidently, folks in UT (or some other state in betwix) don't really believe in interstates. I mean, why would you when you have "the 5" in that other state. Anyhow. She will be taking I-10 (yes, that is pronounced "eye", not "tha") over to LA and then "the 5" up from there. I hope she likes California. And California boys cause she's coming all the way up to meet this one really fantastic Cali boy...
He's fantastic because he slimmed my thighs. No...not like that. We now swim twice weekly and walk once a week. He's going to make me run soon here...so not cool. He wants me running 5 miles at once by next year March~ish. Now.
I used to run track.
I used to run "fast". Okay...well I used to technically run a sprint.
I don't think, all things considered, I have fun 5 miles TOTAL in all my life! He will be the death of me. But damn I'ma look good in my coffin!
That woman, she would be my mama. No...I am NOT the spawn of Satan. Spawn of anything for that matter.
She, of all glorious momminess (I kid you not, there are at least three generations of folks about to attest to this) is coming to Seattle! From El Paso! On a bus. Yes. A bus. Don't ask.
But I will tell. Longer than you can hold it.
Why yes, there are no straight shots between the two because evidently, folks in UT (or some other state in betwix) don't really believe in interstates. I mean, why would you when you have "the 5" in that other state. Anyhow. She will be taking I-10 (yes, that is pronounced "eye", not "tha") over to LA and then "the 5" up from there. I hope she likes California. And California boys cause she's coming all the way up to meet this one really fantastic Cali boy...
He's fantastic because he slimmed my thighs. No...not like that. We now swim twice weekly and walk once a week. He's going to make me run soon here...so not cool. He wants me running 5 miles at once by next year March~ish. Now.
I used to run track.
I used to run "fast". Okay...well I used to technically run a sprint.
I don't think, all things considered, I have fun 5 miles TOTAL in all my life! He will be the death of me. But damn I'ma look good in my coffin!
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Yeah....and we do.
***Reallly...I had this great post with lots of great pictures. But since I have not the patience for Blogger sucking up my whole free day that is neither vacation time nor time to work, alas, you lose. Maybe when I'm in a less hormonal state, I'll try again. For the meantime, I'm going to save this for later, post the ramblings and those who want the full version (pics and all!) can email me/leave a comment and I'll be happy to forward you the word version. Let the stalking commence but until then, here is the verbage***
My people. We Camp. Yeah…we do. I hung out in the back of the Tahoe (very comfy let me tell you), sat around a campfire, slathered Deet on my skin (I know…so much for having children) and hiked to the top of the world before almost passing out. My goodness I’ve got a ways to go if I REALLY want to do that next summer. That’s another post for another time.
So what does camping look like to me? Well, let me show ya: (yeah...that would be picture eaten)
That would be Mt. Rainier. And that would be the !*#&#(@ Snow Lake path that almost killed a sista. But who would challenge her to do such a thing you ask?
Why that would be this dude of course: (yeah...that would be picture eaten #2)
And why would that dude drag her into the wilderness knowing full well her people don’t do this kind of thing? Well, to do this of course:(number 3, ate up alive)
Which was all well and good. Because I got to see lots of baby deer (no “kidding”) and that made the trip utterly worthwhile. Well, that and this: (#4)
Note the Burt’s Bee starter kit that I scored at the Longmire Lodge. If I would have known I merely have to travel to the top of the mountain to get this stuff locally…I tell ya. Also note the mustard—all I needed was some hot sauce and we’d be set. Speaking of condiments: (#5...really good I might add)
Do you know what this is? This is called hazing. Malicious, sweet, hazing. You see….sometimes, when you go places, you forget to pack something. Or someone who was supposed to come along doesn’t and so you have to make a stop. Well, we stopped at Sports Authority for a little ax…to chop all that wood that we’d buy at the grocery store and the campsite of course. But at that moment we realized we had no ketchup for our hotdogs. So of course we went to McDonalds. Land of great ketchup. Now…I was GOING to order some fries to go with the ketchup. But evidently, fries are not a breakfast food. So to punish Corporate McDonalds for not realizing the importance of fries in the morning, we each took a handful of ketchup. For the hotdogs. That they don’t sell. Hey…details—don’t get bogged down. Unless that detail is in the word “each”. Since there WERE three of us and only two took ketchup. People. Please. Not like I wasn’t going to return it on the way back.
So back at the campfire, Eagle Scout M got a rip roaring fire going: (6)
And then he settled in with That-Roommate-Dude-Who-Won’t-Gank-Ketchup: (7)
And he had a nice glass of: (8)
Because it wouldn’t be camping without the daily source of calcium.
The next day, we attempted a guided tour with Ruth. (9)
But somewhere between the paid rangers that didn’t know who Douglas Firs were named after or exactly how many years ago the last devastating mud slide was and the “where did the trail go?” volunteer guides…BF’s ADD kicked in and we decided to do the mountain on our own.
Well, the visitor center anyhow.
Since, at this point, I’m sure you are in utter disbelief that I was actually out in the wilderness, I should note that these are all pictures *I* took and that is why you cannot see me in any of them. See that big camera BF is holding? That one holds all of the tear stained, wrinkled forehead, eyes popped out of head shots of me. But just for the disbelieving, I leave you with this: (10)
And all those little flowers that you cannot see that were an amazing site to behold. Those are avalanche lilies.
Wish you were here!
My people. We Camp. Yeah…we do. I hung out in the back of the Tahoe (very comfy let me tell you), sat around a campfire, slathered Deet on my skin (I know…so much for having children) and hiked to the top of the world before almost passing out. My goodness I’ve got a ways to go if I REALLY want to do that next summer. That’s another post for another time.
So what does camping look like to me? Well, let me show ya: (yeah...that would be picture eaten)
That would be Mt. Rainier. And that would be the !*#&#(@ Snow Lake path that almost killed a sista. But who would challenge her to do such a thing you ask?
Why that would be this dude of course: (yeah...that would be picture eaten #2)
And why would that dude drag her into the wilderness knowing full well her people don’t do this kind of thing? Well, to do this of course:(number 3, ate up alive)
Which was all well and good. Because I got to see lots of baby deer (no “kidding”) and that made the trip utterly worthwhile. Well, that and this: (#4)
Note the Burt’s Bee starter kit that I scored at the Longmire Lodge. If I would have known I merely have to travel to the top of the mountain to get this stuff locally…I tell ya. Also note the mustard—all I needed was some hot sauce and we’d be set. Speaking of condiments: (#5...really good I might add)
Do you know what this is? This is called hazing. Malicious, sweet, hazing. You see….sometimes, when you go places, you forget to pack something. Or someone who was supposed to come along doesn’t and so you have to make a stop. Well, we stopped at Sports Authority for a little ax…to chop all that wood that we’d buy at the grocery store and the campsite of course. But at that moment we realized we had no ketchup for our hotdogs. So of course we went to McDonalds. Land of great ketchup. Now…I was GOING to order some fries to go with the ketchup. But evidently, fries are not a breakfast food. So to punish Corporate McDonalds for not realizing the importance of fries in the morning, we each took a handful of ketchup. For the hotdogs. That they don’t sell. Hey…details—don’t get bogged down. Unless that detail is in the word “each”. Since there WERE three of us and only two took ketchup. People. Please. Not like I wasn’t going to return it on the way back.
So back at the campfire, Eagle Scout M got a rip roaring fire going: (6)
And then he settled in with That-Roommate-Dude-Who-Won’t-Gank-Ketchup: (7)
And he had a nice glass of: (8)
Because it wouldn’t be camping without the daily source of calcium.
The next day, we attempted a guided tour with Ruth. (9)
But somewhere between the paid rangers that didn’t know who Douglas Firs were named after or exactly how many years ago the last devastating mud slide was and the “where did the trail go?” volunteer guides…BF’s ADD kicked in and we decided to do the mountain on our own.
Well, the visitor center anyhow.
Since, at this point, I’m sure you are in utter disbelief that I was actually out in the wilderness, I should note that these are all pictures *I* took and that is why you cannot see me in any of them. See that big camera BF is holding? That one holds all of the tear stained, wrinkled forehead, eyes popped out of head shots of me. But just for the disbelieving, I leave you with this: (10)
And all those little flowers that you cannot see that were an amazing site to behold. Those are avalanche lilies.
Wish you were here!
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