...but I am now officially managing 2 blogs. Call me crazy, but really, that's my life.
I am a multi-tasker. Like, to the point where I get going doing so many different that nothing actually gets completed. Hey, I don't claim to be an efficient multi-tasker here.
I struggle with this daily because it's not as if I can come into work and get my hands into 20 different things and not actually finish anything, ever. I am learning to reign it in and actually tell my boss that, yes, I am swamped today, and no, I can't take anything else on. Because I have grown up in the past 3 years and have found that this is acceptable in the work place, my quality of work has improved and that makes me a happier person.
At work.
Do I apply this same time-management philosophy to my daily life?
Ummm, no.
Welcome to my newest project. This is something I am actually going to HAVE to keep up with because I'm doing it to help 10 other girls stay informed on the details of one of the biggest days of my best friend's life. So, yeah, you can pretty much guarantee THAT blog will stay current. AND be super cute, because it's a representation of Sarah and Dustin, so duh, it's gotta be super cute.
And whaaaa whaaa whaa...I'm not crying about anything, so give me a break. I love Sarah and Dustin and I'm stoked about managing the blog. I just want to lay it all out there and let you people know what's going on in my world and why I might be a bit absent from this blog.
So don't judge me if it suffers. Undoubtedly, it will. Instead, just go see what I've done over here and be content in the knowledge that I am still alive and well and haven't tried to paper cut myself to death with a bridal shower invite.
October 13, 2008
October 8, 2008
Cute suit, but will it pass the Fruit Test?
I am finding some seriously awesome shit on the Internet today, people. It feels a little like Christmas, and I'm loving it.
Don't ask me how I found these places, because really, I don't know. I browse through various blogs and sites, clicking my little heart out, and end up so far from my original entrance page that I often find myself stunned, blinking at the page in front of my face, wondering how the hell I ended up on a site advertising bathing suits you'll look good in while holding fruit.
No joke. The site features videos of models in different types of suits performing different tests such as the "Stretch Test," and the "Frisbee Test," and they all play out pretty much exactly like they sound they would. And then there is the "Fruit Test," which, oookaaay, but HUH? It seriously is a girl in a cute bikini walking toward the camera and bending down to pick up an orange, and then tossing it into the air and catching it with a delighted smile, before turning around and walking back to the place she started, fruit in hand. I don't know about you, but I have never been bathing suit shopping and while picking a suit off the rack stopped to think, you know what? No. Not this one. No way could I look good holding an orange in THIS one.
Maybe that's just me, though.
While I was checking out the other suits and reading what tests they had undergone to be deemed wearable for the 2008 swimsuit season, I found the "Fruit Test," or variations of, applied to a number of different suits. Strangely enough, they were all modeled by the same girl. It makes me wonder if, when she went in for her audition, they asked about her talents and she replied, "I am into walking on the beach, smiling really huge, and drinking Zima. Frisbees freak me out, but you know what I am SO totally awesome at? Throwing fruit in the air and catching it!"
And thus, the "Fruit Test" was born.
Don't ask me how I found these places, because really, I don't know. I browse through various blogs and sites, clicking my little heart out, and end up so far from my original entrance page that I often find myself stunned, blinking at the page in front of my face, wondering how the hell I ended up on a site advertising bathing suits you'll look good in while holding fruit.
No joke. The site features videos of models in different types of suits performing different tests such as the "Stretch Test," and the "Frisbee Test," and they all play out pretty much exactly like they sound they would. And then there is the "Fruit Test," which, oookaaay, but HUH? It seriously is a girl in a cute bikini walking toward the camera and bending down to pick up an orange, and then tossing it into the air and catching it with a delighted smile, before turning around and walking back to the place she started, fruit in hand. I don't know about you, but I have never been bathing suit shopping and while picking a suit off the rack stopped to think, you know what? No. Not this one. No way could I look good holding an orange in THIS one.
Maybe that's just me, though.
While I was checking out the other suits and reading what tests they had undergone to be deemed wearable for the 2008 swimsuit season, I found the "Fruit Test," or variations of, applied to a number of different suits. Strangely enough, they were all modeled by the same girl. It makes me wonder if, when she went in for her audition, they asked about her talents and she replied, "I am into walking on the beach, smiling really huge, and drinking Zima. Frisbees freak me out, but you know what I am SO totally awesome at? Throwing fruit in the air and catching it!"
And thus, the "Fruit Test" was born.
Friends don't let friends drunk-email
Remember all the times you went out for a night of dancing (or watching other people dance, in my case) and drinking with friends? You wake up the next morning, reach over and grab your phone, see the "New Message" light blinking and immediately panic.
Who did I call/text last night??
Drunk-dials can be funny and harmless ("You're sooooo my BEST FRIEND! I totally looooove yooouuu!!"), but more often than not they lead nowhere good. The guy you broke up with because of the weird way he pronounced your name ("Hey Cher-ul")? Not so annoying 6 beers in, so how about we call him and tell him that? That of course leads him to believe that you want to work things out and maybe give it another go which is why he is calling you and leaving you messages at 9am on a Saturday.
Why didn't someone just take away my phone? Better yet, why doesn't someone invent a phone with a breathalyzer built-in, that way if I am obviously toasted, I can't dial?
Although it's not for a phone, Google is making strides in the right direction. I've never really jumped on the drunk e-mailing train, but I can totally see how this would be helpful.
Also, just so you all know, I am NOT a cheating floozy. The only person I drunk dial or text now is SK, so THERE. Also, sometimes Sarah. And occasionally Chandra. Aaaand sometimes Elizabeth. But that's it. So don't get your panties in a bunch thinking I still wake up on Saturdays, scrambling to figure out which ex-boyfriend I decided to tease and be cruel to the night before.
PS--Sometimes I also drunk dial my mom. What? You don't?
via Daily Tech
Who did I call/text last night??
Drunk-dials can be funny and harmless ("You're sooooo my BEST FRIEND! I totally looooove yooouuu!!"), but more often than not they lead nowhere good. The guy you broke up with because of the weird way he pronounced your name ("Hey Cher-ul")? Not so annoying 6 beers in, so how about we call him and tell him that? That of course leads him to believe that you want to work things out and maybe give it another go which is why he is calling you and leaving you messages at 9am on a Saturday.
Why didn't someone just take away my phone? Better yet, why doesn't someone invent a phone with a breathalyzer built-in, that way if I am obviously toasted, I can't dial?
Although it's not for a phone, Google is making strides in the right direction. I've never really jumped on the drunk e-mailing train, but I can totally see how this would be helpful.
Also, just so you all know, I am NOT a cheating floozy. The only person I drunk dial or text now is SK, so THERE. Also, sometimes Sarah. And occasionally Chandra. Aaaand sometimes Elizabeth. But that's it. So don't get your panties in a bunch thinking I still wake up on Saturdays, scrambling to figure out which ex-boyfriend I decided to tease and be cruel to the night before.
PS--Sometimes I also drunk dial my mom. What? You don't?
via Daily Tech
September 26, 2008
Friday Foto
I've been away for a while, but I'm back now! As always, go to Carrie's Place on Fridays to play!
This is my last post having to do with Ike, I SWEAR. And I'm cheating and posting more than 1 picture.
I took these photos with my phone (excuse the quality) Friday evening, as Ike rolled in. 2 weeks ago, this was the scene in Houston, and I looked at it thinking I had never seen a more beautiful sunset and surely this was a sign. A sign that everything was going to be fine and we'd all be ok and this was nothing more than another hurricane scare.
However, one quick look in the other direction, the direction Ike was actually coming in from, and I couldn't help but feel like he was really snickering with glee and rubbing his hands together in anticipation of delivering a much different message.
Cover your ass, Houston. I'm about to jack you up.
This is my last post having to do with Ike, I SWEAR. And I'm cheating and posting more than 1 picture.
I took these photos with my phone (excuse the quality) Friday evening, as Ike rolled in. 2 weeks ago, this was the scene in Houston, and I looked at it thinking I had never seen a more beautiful sunset and surely this was a sign. A sign that everything was going to be fine and we'd all be ok and this was nothing more than another hurricane scare.
However, one quick look in the other direction, the direction Ike was actually coming in from, and I couldn't help but feel like he was really snickering with glee and rubbing his hands together in anticipation of delivering a much different message.
Cover your ass, Houston. I'm about to jack you up.
September 23, 2008
Ike, Ike Baby
My head is still spinning from the insanity that is Houston right now, but I'm back and we're in extremely good shape after this whole hurricane incident. We still don't have internet/cable/phone at the house, but we have POWER! We were some of the really lucky ones who got power back (please Houston friends, don't kill me) SUNDAY AFTERNOON. And I don't mean Sunday the 21st, I mean Sunday the 14th.
I know!
And yes, we had house guests. And yes, we invited everyone we knew up to the house if they wanted to come bask in the glow of the halogen lights in our kitchen. So we weren't being power hoarders. But we were freaking lucky.
Rewind to the week of the 8th.
The news and weather forecasts were getting increasingly more paranoid due to Ike heading towards the Gulf. We watched, mildly interested, but not making any plans to actually DO anything. Should we go grocery shopping? Nah, we have some bottled water in the pantry. Should we get more batteries? Nah, our flashlights are fine. What about boarding the windows, SK? Are you going to help, Cheryl? Oh right, about that...um, yeah, we don't have trees in the backyard. I think we'll be ok.
Mayor Bill White told everyone to stay home from work if at all possible on Friday--only emergency responder teams should be on the roads. The storm wasn't supposed to hit until late Friday night, early Saturday morning, but people were leaving town and the highways were getting packed. We got a memo from our building managers letting us know our office building would be closed Friday/Saturday due to the risk of losing power and water. I'm not even going to get into the issues I dealt with at work due to Ike, but let's just say that more than once during the whole experience, I called some co-workers some not so nice names and seriously considered just walking out of my office and telling the world of IT to kiss my ass, I am so done with you, just go the hell away already. I worked from home on Friday morning.
SK and I finally got in gear Friday afternoon and filled up the bathtub with water (just in case), threw the patio furniture into the pool, stowed the grill in the garage, and ran out to the gas station to fill up my car and to get the essentials - beer, cigarettes and some Cup 'O Noodles. Hee. I know, I know! We were SO unprepared.
And here is where we show we are complete brain-trusts: We figured that the power would go out, but didn't think it would be out for long. It didn't occur to us that along with power being out, our ice maker wouldn't work. Also, lights and TVs and radios? That all are powered by Ambit Energy and NOT batteries? Yeah...didn't think about that stuff not working when the electricity wasn't, either. I figured we could cook things on the grill, since it's hooked to a propane tank (we ran out of propane before the storm even started...). As I've mentioned before--I've never been through an actual hurricane. The storms here can be bad, but they're not ever THAT bad and I guess I just didn't really expect it to be terrible.
Oh, but it was. OMFG, it was.
It started getting windy about 10pm on Friday. It was nice. Sort of cooling, making my hair fly around my face, and making the leaves swish around on their branches. By 2am Saturday, the wind was so frickin' loud and was shaking the windows so hard, it sounded like a train was coming through our living room. Amazingly, I slept through much of it (no doubt aided by the many beers I consumed earlier that afternoon - hello, Hurricane Party!), but woke up a few times terrified out of my mind that at any moment a tree branch was going to snap off the massive pine behind our neighbor's fence (why didn't I notice that earlier?!) and fly, torpedo-style, through our bedroom window and crush me in my bed. I also was too tired (read: drunk) to be bothered to move into the closet.
SK was up for a while in the middle of all of it, pacing through the house and making sure that nothing major happened, or at least that someone responsible (read: not drunk) was awake to deal with it. Toby was asleep in the guest room, head right below a window that faced a fence that could have easily smashed through the glass. I think at some point, he had the sense to turn around on the bed and throw the covers over himself so that should a large chunk of wood come at him in the night, he would be protected.
We're such good hosts.
We all woke up the next morning about 8:30am to a ridiculously hot house. Our fence was standing. There was one tree in the front yard that was bent sideways, away from the house, but other than that, we were all good. We dodged a major bullet. However, it was still raining, the power was out, we had a leak in the A/C vent in the master bathroom, and the dog wouldn't go outside to pee. What to do? Bust out Risk and Bloody Marys, of course! We played board games by candlelight and drank what was left in the fridge before falling asleep again at 1. One of the two flashlights we own was running low, and I was beginning to get really pissed at myself for not preparing better. We woke up around 5 and decided to drive over to my parent's house since cell phones weren't working and I wanted to make sure they were--you know--ALIVE, thinking we'd get to check out some fallen trees and maybe flooded ditches.
Holy Mother of God.
Spring looked like a war zone. We sat in the car, silent, as we weaved around uprooted 60 ft. tall pine trees, swerved out of the way of fallen power poles, and watched people walking around dazed, looking at their destroyed yards, broken fences and torn up roofs, not sure where to start the clean-up effort. Entire rows of trees were all broken and had fallen at the exact same angle, making them look like a broken line of sticks in a matchbook. No flooding up where we were, just complete destruction from the wind. It was surreal.
We made it to my parent's house and found that not only had my dad started drinking before we did that morning (7:30am), he had not taken a nap, proving once and for all how much of a badass my father is, and also making my family look like a bunch of drunks, which we are not. Ike changed the rules. Day-drinking after a massive catastrophe is acceptable.
No major damage to their house. Their power stayed out a few days longer than ours did, but their neighbor had a generator, so they didn't lose everything in their fridge. SK's parent's were without power about as long (or maybe a day longer) as mine were, but Deb and Wil and baby Ryan got power back Sunday like we did, which is awesome because hot house + no generator = miserable time for anyone, but especially for parents with small child.
Since we were without power and didn't have a radio, don't get the paper, and were without cable, we really had no clue how bad it was outside of Spring. Before I went back to work and had access to the internet, everything I knew about the storm and the days following came from people who had been to different areas of town, or who had heard from friends. Made me feel like I had traveled back in time. Have any of you ever seen Jericho? I know that comparing this to a nuclear war might seem, oh, I don't know, a bit INSANE? Dramatic, maybe? I'm just trying to make a point here. But really, the way the people in Jericho were cut off from the world and had to hear about how things were outside of their town, that's how I felt in the first few days after Ike.
Things are FINALLY getting back to normal around here, which means that my cell phone works again and even though my 60 mile round-trip drive to and from work now sucks 3 hours (!!!) of my life away every day, I am grateful that we came out of this so untouched. There are many people that did not and I can't even imagine how they must be feeling right now. Traffic lights are still out all over the place, stores are open but many still don't have air conditioners working, the grocery stores are back to stocked, and the hum of generators still can be heard throughout parts of the city, but things are getting better. For some, "normal" will be changed forever, and their lives will be forced to make a drastic left when they thought their next turn would be right. And I am reminded again how lucky we were. Are.
Thanks to those of you that have checked up on me. I've missed you all ;). I've also neglected to turn in 2 homework assignments from Miss Kathy, and have missed out participating in the Friday Foto Fun that I so love. I'll be back to normal again next week. For now, it's time to gear up for my ridiculously long drive home and enjoy a weekend of pretty weather and a VERY strong drink. Or 7.
I know!
And yes, we had house guests. And yes, we invited everyone we knew up to the house if they wanted to come bask in the glow of the halogen lights in our kitchen. So we weren't being power hoarders. But we were freaking lucky.
Rewind to the week of the 8th.
The news and weather forecasts were getting increasingly more paranoid due to Ike heading towards the Gulf. We watched, mildly interested, but not making any plans to actually DO anything. Should we go grocery shopping? Nah, we have some bottled water in the pantry. Should we get more batteries? Nah, our flashlights are fine. What about boarding the windows, SK? Are you going to help, Cheryl? Oh right, about that...um, yeah, we don't have trees in the backyard. I think we'll be ok.
Mayor Bill White told everyone to stay home from work if at all possible on Friday--only emergency responder teams should be on the roads. The storm wasn't supposed to hit until late Friday night, early Saturday morning, but people were leaving town and the highways were getting packed. We got a memo from our building managers letting us know our office building would be closed Friday/Saturday due to the risk of losing power and water. I'm not even going to get into the issues I dealt with at work due to Ike, but let's just say that more than once during the whole experience, I called some co-workers some not so nice names and seriously considered just walking out of my office and telling the world of IT to kiss my ass, I am so done with you, just go the hell away already. I worked from home on Friday morning.
SK and I finally got in gear Friday afternoon and filled up the bathtub with water (just in case), threw the patio furniture into the pool, stowed the grill in the garage, and ran out to the gas station to fill up my car and to get the essentials - beer, cigarettes and some Cup 'O Noodles. Hee. I know, I know! We were SO unprepared.
And here is where we show we are complete brain-trusts: We figured that the power would go out, but didn't think it would be out for long. It didn't occur to us that along with power being out, our ice maker wouldn't work. Also, lights and TVs and radios? That all are powered by Ambit Energy and NOT batteries? Yeah...didn't think about that stuff not working when the electricity wasn't, either. I figured we could cook things on the grill, since it's hooked to a propane tank (we ran out of propane before the storm even started...). As I've mentioned before--I've never been through an actual hurricane. The storms here can be bad, but they're not ever THAT bad and I guess I just didn't really expect it to be terrible.
Oh, but it was. OMFG, it was.
It started getting windy about 10pm on Friday. It was nice. Sort of cooling, making my hair fly around my face, and making the leaves swish around on their branches. By 2am Saturday, the wind was so frickin' loud and was shaking the windows so hard, it sounded like a train was coming through our living room. Amazingly, I slept through much of it (no doubt aided by the many beers I consumed earlier that afternoon - hello, Hurricane Party!), but woke up a few times terrified out of my mind that at any moment a tree branch was going to snap off the massive pine behind our neighbor's fence (why didn't I notice that earlier?!) and fly, torpedo-style, through our bedroom window and crush me in my bed. I also was too tired (read: drunk) to be bothered to move into the closet.
SK was up for a while in the middle of all of it, pacing through the house and making sure that nothing major happened, or at least that someone responsible (read: not drunk) was awake to deal with it. Toby was asleep in the guest room, head right below a window that faced a fence that could have easily smashed through the glass. I think at some point, he had the sense to turn around on the bed and throw the covers over himself so that should a large chunk of wood come at him in the night, he would be protected.
We're such good hosts.
We all woke up the next morning about 8:30am to a ridiculously hot house. Our fence was standing. There was one tree in the front yard that was bent sideways, away from the house, but other than that, we were all good. We dodged a major bullet. However, it was still raining, the power was out, we had a leak in the A/C vent in the master bathroom, and the dog wouldn't go outside to pee. What to do? Bust out Risk and Bloody Marys, of course! We played board games by candlelight and drank what was left in the fridge before falling asleep again at 1. One of the two flashlights we own was running low, and I was beginning to get really pissed at myself for not preparing better. We woke up around 5 and decided to drive over to my parent's house since cell phones weren't working and I wanted to make sure they were--you know--ALIVE, thinking we'd get to check out some fallen trees and maybe flooded ditches.
Holy Mother of God.
Spring looked like a war zone. We sat in the car, silent, as we weaved around uprooted 60 ft. tall pine trees, swerved out of the way of fallen power poles, and watched people walking around dazed, looking at their destroyed yards, broken fences and torn up roofs, not sure where to start the clean-up effort. Entire rows of trees were all broken and had fallen at the exact same angle, making them look like a broken line of sticks in a matchbook. No flooding up where we were, just complete destruction from the wind. It was surreal.
We made it to my parent's house and found that not only had my dad started drinking before we did that morning (7:30am), he had not taken a nap, proving once and for all how much of a badass my father is, and also making my family look like a bunch of drunks, which we are not. Ike changed the rules. Day-drinking after a massive catastrophe is acceptable.
No major damage to their house. Their power stayed out a few days longer than ours did, but their neighbor had a generator, so they didn't lose everything in their fridge. SK's parent's were without power about as long (or maybe a day longer) as mine were, but Deb and Wil and baby Ryan got power back Sunday like we did, which is awesome because hot house + no generator = miserable time for anyone, but especially for parents with small child.
Since we were without power and didn't have a radio, don't get the paper, and were without cable, we really had no clue how bad it was outside of Spring. Before I went back to work and had access to the internet, everything I knew about the storm and the days following came from people who had been to different areas of town, or who had heard from friends. Made me feel like I had traveled back in time. Have any of you ever seen Jericho? I know that comparing this to a nuclear war might seem, oh, I don't know, a bit INSANE? Dramatic, maybe? I'm just trying to make a point here. But really, the way the people in Jericho were cut off from the world and had to hear about how things were outside of their town, that's how I felt in the first few days after Ike.
Things are FINALLY getting back to normal around here, which means that my cell phone works again and even though my 60 mile round-trip drive to and from work now sucks 3 hours (!!!) of my life away every day, I am grateful that we came out of this so untouched. There are many people that did not and I can't even imagine how they must be feeling right now. Traffic lights are still out all over the place, stores are open but many still don't have air conditioners working, the grocery stores are back to stocked, and the hum of generators still can be heard throughout parts of the city, but things are getting better. For some, "normal" will be changed forever, and their lives will be forced to make a drastic left when they thought their next turn would be right. And I am reminded again how lucky we were. Are.
Thanks to those of you that have checked up on me. I've missed you all ;). I've also neglected to turn in 2 homework assignments from Miss Kathy, and have missed out participating in the Friday Foto Fun that I so love. I'll be back to normal again next week. For now, it's time to gear up for my ridiculously long drive home and enjoy a weekend of pretty weather and a VERY strong drink. Or 7.
September 18, 2008
Quickie
We made it out of Ike alive and relatively unscathed. I will post more about the experience sometime soon, but right now I am so tired of talking/watching/hearing about the storm and all the devastation it brought to the area that I need a few days to regroup. Saul's dad's birthday party is tomorrow (happy birthday!), so that will provide a nice distraction.
Ike, you whooped my ass.
Ike, you whooped my ass.
September 12, 2008
Forecast: Craptastic
So the Texas Gulf Coast has been evacuated. I'm sure you've all heard. It's all that the news anchors talked about all day yesterday in Houston and everyone was talking about it at work. The parking garage of our building emptied out pretty early (guess who was there til 5:30?!) and co workers talked about where they were going to go to ride out the storm. Our building even announced a mandatory closing for today and tomorrow. Can't get in. Not safe. Stay home.
I'll admit, this one seems a little more serious than the others. I've been watching the progress on the news and cripes--Ike looks like a bonafide motherfucker of a storm. I've mocked those that go through all the insanity that is preparing for a hurricane, but this time, I will raise my hand and stand up all, Hey you! Back there! Got any water you can hook me up with? Also, can I get some gas?
It wasn't until yesterday at 2pm that I realized how absorbed everyone was with tracking this hurricane. A co-worker and I were discussing what the plan was for work the next day and he looked over my shoulder out the window and asked, "Why are the flags at half-mast? Because of the hurricane?" I glanced behind me and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Yesterday was September 11th.
I could not believe I had completely neglected to recognize the date. Everyone was so frantic about the weather, even the news anchors that morning hadn't mentioned anything about the 7th year anniversary. I was flooded with guilt.
Most everyone can remember exactly what they were doing the moment they heard the news about the Twin Towers. I was leaving my first class of the day, my freshman year of college. I walked back to my dorm, still half-asleep, and noticed a group of students gathered in the lounge area, watching the news, talking about some sort of explosion in New York City. I remember thinking, I need to call Danielle, a friend of mine from high school that was at NYU. I walked past them all to my room to take a quick nap before my next class. My roommate came running in about 3 minutes later, screaming at me to turn on the tv and why wasn't I watching, didn't I hear what happened? We sat in our room for the next 2 hours and watched in complete disbelief. What the hell was going on?
I remember hearing someone say that Austin was a target for a bombing since the President's daughters went to school there. My boyfriend at the time was also at UT and I couldn't get in touch with him because the cell phone traffic was ridiculously maxxed out. Classes were canceled and lots of people went home to be with their families. I spoke with Danielle and she sent us terrifying photos she took FROM HER DORM ROOM WINDOW of the planes in the towers and the explosions and then the towers falling. For months, I couldn't look at those pictures without feeling like I was going to throw up.
I felt so ashamed yesterday that I hadn't thought once about the date. That I hadn't taken a moment yet to remember the images seen in the days and weeks and months following. Instead, I was wondering how I was going to flush my toilet should we lose water and how many days REALLY could I suffer eating canned meals should the electricity go out.
To all the men and women who fight each day to keep our country and our freedoms safe, thank you. This might be coming a day late, but I mean it with all of my heart when I say that you are all amazingly brave and selfless and I admire you. A million times, thank you.
I'll admit, this one seems a little more serious than the others. I've been watching the progress on the news and cripes--Ike looks like a bonafide motherfucker of a storm. I've mocked those that go through all the insanity that is preparing for a hurricane, but this time, I will raise my hand and stand up all, Hey you! Back there! Got any water you can hook me up with? Also, can I get some gas?
It wasn't until yesterday at 2pm that I realized how absorbed everyone was with tracking this hurricane. A co-worker and I were discussing what the plan was for work the next day and he looked over my shoulder out the window and asked, "Why are the flags at half-mast? Because of the hurricane?" I glanced behind me and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Yesterday was September 11th.
I could not believe I had completely neglected to recognize the date. Everyone was so frantic about the weather, even the news anchors that morning hadn't mentioned anything about the 7th year anniversary. I was flooded with guilt.
Most everyone can remember exactly what they were doing the moment they heard the news about the Twin Towers. I was leaving my first class of the day, my freshman year of college. I walked back to my dorm, still half-asleep, and noticed a group of students gathered in the lounge area, watching the news, talking about some sort of explosion in New York City. I remember thinking, I need to call Danielle, a friend of mine from high school that was at NYU. I walked past them all to my room to take a quick nap before my next class. My roommate came running in about 3 minutes later, screaming at me to turn on the tv and why wasn't I watching, didn't I hear what happened? We sat in our room for the next 2 hours and watched in complete disbelief. What the hell was going on?
I remember hearing someone say that Austin was a target for a bombing since the President's daughters went to school there. My boyfriend at the time was also at UT and I couldn't get in touch with him because the cell phone traffic was ridiculously maxxed out. Classes were canceled and lots of people went home to be with their families. I spoke with Danielle and she sent us terrifying photos she took FROM HER DORM ROOM WINDOW of the planes in the towers and the explosions and then the towers falling. For months, I couldn't look at those pictures without feeling like I was going to throw up.
I felt so ashamed yesterday that I hadn't thought once about the date. That I hadn't taken a moment yet to remember the images seen in the days and weeks and months following. Instead, I was wondering how I was going to flush my toilet should we lose water and how many days REALLY could I suffer eating canned meals should the electricity go out.
To all the men and women who fight each day to keep our country and our freedoms safe, thank you. This might be coming a day late, but I mean it with all of my heart when I say that you are all amazingly brave and selfless and I admire you. A million times, thank you.
September 11, 2008
Dear God...
...forgive me for all the jokes I have ever made about Houston's craziness when it comes to hurricanes. I apologize and understand I was a jerk for all the smack I've talked.
Please don't cave my house in.
Amen.
**To all of you in the path of the hurricane, please be safe! Stay inside and keep your loved ones close. See ya Monday!
Please don't cave my house in.
Amen.
**To all of you in the path of the hurricane, please be safe! Stay inside and keep your loved ones close. See ya Monday!
September 10, 2008
Writer's Workshop Wednesday
As it is each Wednesday, go visit Mama Kat and magically get transported back to your favorite English class.
I am sooo becoming a slacker in my old age. I want so badly to participate and be a good student and turn in the work, but I haven't got the time to write a lengthy essay on any of the 3 topics. DAMN YOU, JOB. I'm doing it anyway.
Here is my rushed assignment result:
Teacher Issues
I have only ever had 1 issue with a professor/teacher. Well ok, 2, but the time my British Lit. professor called me a "brainless sorority girl," and threatened to fail me for alleged plagiarism (which I did NOT commit, by the way), I kind of went a little berserk and may or may not have written her a strongly worded e-mail, calling her incompetent and accusing her of wasting my (parent's) money, and threatening to go to the Dean to report how uncomfortable I felt, what with her pushing her personal religious beliefs (she was Jewish...not that there is anything wrong with that!) on our entire class.
I am pretty sure that was more scary for her than it was for me.
For the record, she apologized, and I made an A in the class.
I was pretty much a big dork in high school and all my teachers loved me because I did all my stuff, and in college I more or less tried to blend in and flirted my way to a higher grade when I got desperate and had skipped too many classes to actually EARN my A.
However, the moment in time that will forever be burned into my memory as The Moment I Realized I Hated School, was my first day of first grade at Thompson Elementary School. My teacher's name was Mrs. Williams (or Mrs. Henry, or Mrs. Edwards...it was Mrs. "Man's First Name Here"), and she was a gigantic specimen of a woman. She was loud and covered in makeup, and I honestly don't think she liked kids much.
I was never a clingy child, but that first day, my mom could not peel me from her thigh. I wasn't going in. Mrs. Man's First Name Here was terrifying.
She stood at the door and beckoned us all in by crooking her finger in a "come hither" motion, while chanting "Come IN, my Pretties," like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz. I was a bawling mess before I even crossed into the classroom.
I sat in the back row and sobbed in horror with another little girl named Ashley. We would bond in those first few miserable days and remain best friends through 8th grade, occasionally reminiscing about the nightmare that was the first month of first grade. We got yelled at and we were called "weak" if we tried to hug her or if we didn't know the answer to something. It was wretched.
MRS. HARDY! THAT was her name! Yikes. The pure recollection of that gave me chills. Mrs. Man's First Name Here? Whatever. Clearly, there are portions of that time in my life I have trained my mind to block out.
Anyway, the whole Mrs. Hardy thing ended rather anti-climatically. We all went home on a Friday, anxious to be free of the witch that held us hostage all week long, and when we come in on Monday, we were greeted by a smiley, beautiful, blonde woman named Ms. Wattenburger. No matter none of us could pronounce or spell her last name through most of the year--she was happy and young and pretty and she let us color and never yelled and HUGGED us. We were all in love.
Ms. Wattenburger would later become Mrs. Tolerico (she was nice, but she looooved to torture her kids with the hard last names) and remain a favorite teacher of mine forever. She saved us. She treated us all as her own. She was a Godsend for 24 little 6 year-olds who's careers as school-haters were very much on the way to being solidified.
Thanks Ms. Wattenburger/Mrs. Tolerico. I hope you're doing well.
Mrs. Hardy, frankly, I do not care how you've been, but I do hope that you no longer cackle like a witch when speaking to very small children. It's more damaging than you know.
I am sooo becoming a slacker in my old age. I want so badly to participate and be a good student and turn in the work, but I haven't got the time to write a lengthy essay on any of the 3 topics. DAMN YOU, JOB. I'm doing it anyway.
Here is my rushed assignment result:
Teacher Issues
I have only ever had 1 issue with a professor/teacher. Well ok, 2, but the time my British Lit. professor called me a "brainless sorority girl," and threatened to fail me for alleged plagiarism (which I did NOT commit, by the way), I kind of went a little berserk and may or may not have written her a strongly worded e-mail, calling her incompetent and accusing her of wasting my (parent's) money, and threatening to go to the Dean to report how uncomfortable I felt, what with her pushing her personal religious beliefs (she was Jewish...not that there is anything wrong with that!) on our entire class.
I am pretty sure that was more scary for her than it was for me.
For the record, she apologized, and I made an A in the class.
I was pretty much a big dork in high school and all my teachers loved me because I did all my stuff, and in college I more or less tried to blend in and flirted my way to a higher grade when I got desperate and had skipped too many classes to actually EARN my A.
However, the moment in time that will forever be burned into my memory as The Moment I Realized I Hated School, was my first day of first grade at Thompson Elementary School. My teacher's name was Mrs. Williams (or Mrs. Henry, or Mrs. Edwards...it was Mrs. "Man's First Name Here"), and she was a gigantic specimen of a woman. She was loud and covered in makeup, and I honestly don't think she liked kids much.
I was never a clingy child, but that first day, my mom could not peel me from her thigh. I wasn't going in. Mrs. Man's First Name Here was terrifying.
She stood at the door and beckoned us all in by crooking her finger in a "come hither" motion, while chanting "Come IN, my Pretties," like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz. I was a bawling mess before I even crossed into the classroom.
I sat in the back row and sobbed in horror with another little girl named Ashley. We would bond in those first few miserable days and remain best friends through 8th grade, occasionally reminiscing about the nightmare that was the first month of first grade. We got yelled at and we were called "weak" if we tried to hug her or if we didn't know the answer to something. It was wretched.
MRS. HARDY! THAT was her name! Yikes. The pure recollection of that gave me chills. Mrs. Man's First Name Here? Whatever. Clearly, there are portions of that time in my life I have trained my mind to block out.
Anyway, the whole Mrs. Hardy thing ended rather anti-climatically. We all went home on a Friday, anxious to be free of the witch that held us hostage all week long, and when we come in on Monday, we were greeted by a smiley, beautiful, blonde woman named Ms. Wattenburger. No matter none of us could pronounce or spell her last name through most of the year--she was happy and young and pretty and she let us color and never yelled and HUGGED us. We were all in love.
Ms. Wattenburger would later become Mrs. Tolerico (she was nice, but she looooved to torture her kids with the hard last names) and remain a favorite teacher of mine forever. She saved us. She treated us all as her own. She was a Godsend for 24 little 6 year-olds who's careers as school-haters were very much on the way to being solidified.
Thanks Ms. Wattenburger/Mrs. Tolerico. I hope you're doing well.
Mrs. Hardy, frankly, I do not care how you've been, but I do hope that you no longer cackle like a witch when speaking to very small children. It's more damaging than you know.
Yo Houston, get with it
For those of you that check out the list of blogs I follow (look left), you'll notice I have a few new additions, one of which belongs to Matt Logelin.
Matt's story is heartbreaking and heartwarming, all at the same time. His wife, Liz, passed away the day after delivering their baby, Madeline. Matt is now a single dad, mourning the loss of his wife, while reveling in the new joys his baby girl brings.
He has a bunch of people following his expedition into fatherhood, and they've decided to mobilize and do something to help out. September 21, people all over the US will be participating in the Liz Goodman Logelin Memorial 5k Walk/Run. In Houston, assuming Ike doesn't wipe out the Texas coast, we'll be down in Kemah. Let me know if you're interested! Also, if you're not in Texas, go to his blog and check the comments to see if someone from your area is participating!
Also, go here for more info. She has all kinds of stuff linked, like how to submit pictures and how to order cool shirts.
You've also GOT to check out the super sweet ROBOT.
Matt's story is heartbreaking and heartwarming, all at the same time. His wife, Liz, passed away the day after delivering their baby, Madeline. Matt is now a single dad, mourning the loss of his wife, while reveling in the new joys his baby girl brings.
He has a bunch of people following his expedition into fatherhood, and they've decided to mobilize and do something to help out. September 21, people all over the US will be participating in the Liz Goodman Logelin Memorial 5k Walk/Run. In Houston, assuming Ike doesn't wipe out the Texas coast, we'll be down in Kemah. Let me know if you're interested! Also, if you're not in Texas, go to his blog and check the comments to see if someone from your area is participating!
Also, go here for more info. She has all kinds of stuff linked, like how to submit pictures and how to order cool shirts.
You've also GOT to check out the super sweet ROBOT.
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