Friday, May 18, 2007


I just have to put these thoughts out… someplace. Lucky you! Please feel free to disregard this entire post if you’d like.

I just had lunch with a friend who on Monday of this week broke up with her boyfriend of four years because he was not prepared to move their relationship to the next level (ie: marriage). A few weeks prior to this she had moved out of the house they have lived in together for most of those last four years and put in an offer on a brand new home which she will move into sometime in September.

She seemed sad, it being difficult to break up with someone who you really aren’t angry with, only hurt that you can’t seem to come to terms about the status of your relationship and its future. But overall she seemed at peace with her decision, even optimistic at times.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

I once, I always, I never

I once got stung in the butt while running in college. That cheeky bee had to fly up my sweatshirt to get there too! I called my mom because I had no idea what to do for a bee sting. She told me to put mud on it.

I always wash my face first thing in the shower. I read once that this means I am narcissistic. I don’t necessarily think that is true… I just don’t like to have mascara running into my eyes.

I never take my make-up off before bed. I know I should. I just don’t.


I once was told that a friend of mine wouldn’t need me anymore once she had a husband and got married. At the time my friend and I laughed it off. I now think the other girl was right.

I always count stairs when I go up or down them. There are 16 outside my apartment. I count them everyday. I don’t expect them to magically change one day… I guess there is more to this OCD thing than I thought!

I never have traveled to Europe. It’s on my list of things to do before I’m 30… To be honest I’m not sure I’m going to make it.


I once received a hand drawn Valentine from a boy in my class that was a picture of Rambo but said “Yo Tiffany! Be my Valentine!” I think he had his Sylvester Stallone movies confused. At the time I was mortified because he was NOT COOL. Now I wish I had been nicer to him because he was very sweet and I have often wondered what happened to him.

I always look for people from my old town in Texas on MySpace. Apparently the internet hasn’t quite made it out to Cibolo yet. Or they’ve all changed their names or moved away. Both are equally likely.

I never measure oil when it asks you to add 2 tsp to a skillet to sauté your veggies or whatnot. This seems like a waste of time to me and just one more utensil to clean. Likewise, I do not generally measure spices. Or salt and pepper. Season to taste is my motto.


I once told a friend in Junior High School that I wanted to have enough sons to have my own starting line up for a football team. I have now come to my senses.

I always have liked boys better than girls. We’re petty y’all. And mean. I saw the movie – it’s all true.

I never know what to do with children. If they are young and people thrust them at me I am afraid I am going to drop them or they will vomit or make other messy baby wet spots on me. If they are older I am terrified they will speak to me and expect some sort of response.


I once felt light headed from simply kissing a boy I liked.

I always day dreamed about kissing far more than I ever actually GOT kissed in High School. Sad but true. ;^D

I never fit in with a clique in school. I wasn’t sporty enough for the jocks, smart enough for the brains, pretty enough for the popular girls and so on and so on… I didn’t even really fit in with the group of friends I ended up spending most of my time with.


I once had a guy who I thought was just a friend try to kiss me. It was awkward and we’ve never really spoken or hung out since then. I miss him sometimes and hear about him through the grapevine but he’s never tried to get in touch with me.

I always end up being “one of the guys”. Which seems like a cool thing to be… until you want to be the “girlfriend” of one of the guys and get laughed at. That hurts.

I never leave the house without sunscreen (at least for my face – hello wrinkles) and Chapstick. Never.


I once fractured my finger while dusting. In two places.

I always think of a better thing to say after the person I am speaking to has walked away or hung up. I hate that!

I never feel like I spend enough time with my cat… Like I could be a better cat mommy somehow.


I once did that whole prick your finger and become blood sisters with my best friend in grade school. Then I moved away and we lost touch… So much for being “bonded by blood”. I wonder where she is now?

I always peek at other people’s bookshelves when I’m at their houses to see what they are reading. It’s my own version of seeing what’s in the medicine cabinet I guess. You can tell a lot about a person by the type of books they read.

I never thought I’d go seven years without speaking to my father.


I once got thrown from a horse because a bird flew under his belly.

I always pre-plan conversations with people in my car. Complete with alternate endings and multiple answers and scenarios based on their responses to questions either I or they might ask.

I never feel like I actually see the real me in the mirror.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

For Kate

Yes I am in fact supposed to be at boot camp this morning... Why do you ask? :)

Thanks to Kate for e-mailing me these questions as part of the “interview me” game (and inspiring me to post something!). If you want to play leave me a comment.

1. When you were a little girl, what did you want to grow up to be?

It was a toss up between a ballerina (SO PRETTY) or a restaurant owner or a clothes designer. For those last two I totally used to get up before my parents on the weekends and block off the way to the kitchen so they had to go into the dining room first and “order” their breakfast from me. Off a menu. Scrambled eggs and toast? Or… scrambled eggs and toast? Also? There might be incriminating photographs of me modeling some of my early fashion designs made entirely from paper grocery bags. Bikini top with sweetheart neckline (it was the 80’s cut me SOME slack y’all) and a Hawaiian style grass skirt thing. I can’t believe I just admitted that on the internet.

2. What is one thing that you deem unforgivable in life, in your

I guess I can’t tolerate apathy in people. PLEASE be passionate about SOMETHING! I like to surround myself with people who are excited about life. As for what I deem unforgivable in relationships? If you are my friend I find it unforgivable if you don’t put 110% of yourself into our relationship. I’m not saying all the time… I know it’s a give and take. But we all lead busy lives and I don’t have time for people who aren’t going to be there for me when I need them. I promise you if you are my friend I will be there for you when you need me. As for boyfriends / significant others… I can’t tolerate being lied to. PLEASE be honest… Don’t spare my feelings because I will be more upset when I find out you lied than I would have been had you been honest in the first place. I’m reasonable – try me.

3. Do you have a cause that is near and dear to your heart?

Sadly I have a lot of causes that are near and dear to my heart but none of which I spend a great deal of time on… It’s always that same old excuse, not enough time, not enough money, not enough… who knows. There are a few things I will always get up on my soap box about and have spent considerable time, money and personal effort trying to raise awareness for (even if not recently).

I believe in women’s rights – most importantly the right to chose what goes on in her own body and the right not to be abused in her own home. I believe that we are ruining our environment, global warming is a fact and that there is something we can do about it locally. I believe that love is love whether is exists between a man and a woman or a man and a man (or a woman and a woman) and that they should be allowed to enter into a family unit – marriage – if they wish. I also think that unless you are deathly afraid of needles, or are ineligible for whatever reason, that you should donate blood at your local blood bank. It’s an hour out of your life very 8 weeks and it literally could save a life.

4. Which fictionalized character do you mostly relate with, and why?

Heh. I could relate my whole life to one fictional character after another… Lately I’m liking the Dorothy one (see side bar – which coincidentally has been there since day one) because I do really wake up most days and wonder “how the hell did I get here?” And by “here” I don’t just mean Silicon Valley or even CA… Some days I mean just here. This job. This apartment. This particular day, in this particular month. This… life. We are definitely NOT in Kansas anymore Toto.

5. What one country, other than the U.S., would you live in if you could,
and why?

You know? As much as I would love to travel and experience other cultures I’m not sure I would want to LIVE anywhere but here… At least not permanently. Of course I could go for a good long six month sabbatical somewhere. Like Italy. Or Greece. Someplace sunny and warm with excellent food and friendly people.

And thus concludes my five. If you are interested in participating, here are
the rules: Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me!" I will respond by
e-mailing you five questions. I get to pick them, and you have to answer
them all. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. You
will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the
same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them
five questions.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Thoughts on Child Birth

You know how they say that women forget the pain of labor and child birth after awhile as part of a natural reflex that keeps them wanting to have more children? I always thought that was a load of crap personally. I have a friend whose own experience with birth was so painful and traumatic that it has permanently ensured that her adorable four year old daughter is destined to remain an only child. This from a woman who SWORE she wanted at least two. FOUR YEARS LATER PEOPLE and she has not forgotten.

But today as I’m hobbling around after having done approximately 643 million squats at boot camp in the past two days I’m starting to think that maybe somewhere in my brain I somehow blocked the memory of how painful the first week of boot camp was! Because I KNOW I was at least this out of shape the first go around… And I vaguely recall being made fun of as I limped around the office and whined about climbing up and down the stairs… But seriously! Where were these memories when I was all warm and fuzzy and thinking happy thoughts about signing back up?

Darwin was on to something y’all…