Hey woodchuck chuckers

I did celebrate Marmot day again this year, but really, Prax, we need to do it up big next year. Seriously. We have a year to plan it, and I think it should happen. As in previous years, I celebrated with White Russians, Lebowski, Groundhog's Day (movie), tumbleweeds, and root beer (next best thing to sasparilla). I could not get anyone to go bowling with me, however, and though the book was a best seller, bowling alone is not for me.

Next year, Prax. Next year, we have to pay proper tribute to the marmot. As Prax says, "Ask not what the marmot can do for you. Ask what you can do for the marmot." Truer words were never said.

The good news is that there is a prairie dog run coming up next month, so perhaps that will make up for the lack of Groundhog's Day bowling. It's not the same, but it is a tribute to the critter, nonetheless.

In other news, the pigeons of Lubbock must've gotten word that I did not bowl on Gday because one of them (definitely a genetically enhanced bird bc that sucker was big) came at me talons first this afternoon. Seriously, it flew up in my face with talons flailed. I just sort of froze in a startle response while two girls behind me did the screaming for me. Lol. That was incredibly odd. It really stopped itself and fluttered less than a millimeter from my face.

Then I headed out to do some running. I'm training again, this time not for a race, per se, but as part of a competition. I'm on a team, and we are competing mileagewise with other teams on campus. It's part of this Get Fit initiative they've got going on. We have to log our miles, heart rates, veggies and fruit intake, etc. Then there's sort of a Biggest Loser type of challenge process, and someone wins. We're in the advanced level, and my teammates are triathletes, so I've got to keep up my end of the bargain. I did hill training today, and I forgot how much I missed that! And so I am now back from eating some carb replenishment, and it's probably time for bed--though I have a stack of novels to get through (oh and some articles and stats assignments to do, too, but who wants to do that?).

And finally, I just looked in the mirror, and I have smudges under my eyes. how is it that no one told me that my eyeliner smeared. Really? Come on. That is just wrong. I sat at Ihop like that all night? Guh. Serves me right though. Nothing ever goes right when you don't bowl on Gday.

Random gurgles

I found a new Catbirds.

Lubbock doesn't have Vault.

My fridge is filled with cheap beer and no cheese pizza.

I bought spaghetti os today for 88 cents.

I am unbelievably toxic, and the cheap beer, pizza, and spaghetti os are not going to help.

I have to somehow muster the energy to run 13 miles tomorrow.

Frat boys annoy me more now than they did when I was in undergrad, and that is really saying something.

There are times this past week when I wondered WTF I am doing coming back to school full time.

Someone paid me $20 to smile. My smile is depreciating.

My bar arguments are getting better, though, with this newfound doctoral knowledge. I actually used the terms random sampling, population, and covariance in a debate with a frat boy on Friday about baseball. It was wasted on him, but I felt pretty proud.

I did not fall asleep in my shoes like Glinda does, but I did crash naked on the floor wrapped in a crocheted afghan. I woke up freezing with a neckache grasping onto a half drunk bottle of powerade. Gurgle.

So that was this week. I think I'm done with the self-destructive adjustment meltdown, so next week I should have happy posts to report. I mean, Lubbock is only temporary, and so what if I'm 10 years older than people in my cohort and 15 years older than the rest of the people on campus. So what if I'm surrounded by chain restaurants and dollar stores. So what if I can't even go to the football games because grad students have to pay full price. So what if I'm fucking broke with no income until October and maybe not even then bc I'm still not in the system. So what if I will spend Kimday and Turkeyday alone. So what.

Free stuff everywhere this next week. Wed is a new grad student recep with free hors d'oeuvres and wine. I'm taking a big purse. Thursday is free starbucks coffee seminar followed by star gazing at the planetarium. Friday I'll find something. It's all good.

And there are always marmots.

Down with LBB?

I guess I have to be.

So I moved to the thriving metropolis of Lubbock this weekend. I guess this post would work best if I put it into Eastwood format. So here goes.

The Good:
1. My house--it is bangin'!
2. My cats are happy. They have room to play.
3. The weather--it's cool and dry. [Today however had 62% humidity, so I reserve the right to withdraw this statement]
4. I have a backyard.
5. I have enough closet space to hang Paris Hilton's wardrobe.
6. I am 1.3 miles from campus and 2 miles from my building.
7. Running is awesome here. I can run at 10 am and not overheat, which is phenomenal since I hate getting up early.
8. There are more local channels, including 3 Jesus (well technically one is a Yahweh channel) channels, a weather channel, and the home shopping network. I also get 3 Spanish channels and a strange British channel which shows things like this late at night. Yeah, and I think that one deserves a you tube.
9. Prairie Dog Town
10. 7-11!
11. no traffic
12. everything is less than 15 min away
13. Local coffee house. Lots of granola people. Too many macs, tho.
14. My advisor. We click. She's brilliant. She's a presby PK. She's a runner training for a marathon. She's me, only she's already a doc.
15. My course load--uber challenging and interesting.

The Bad
1. Everyone in the town is 19 or 45 with no teeth.
2. Really young cohort. They are all fresh out of undergrad.
3. People lean out of the car and hoot, holler and even squeal like a pig when I walk to school. It's disturbing. I'm not sure if it's the redneck mating call or if they think I look like a pig. I guess if they yell, "Suey" I'll have my answer.
4. One of my assistantship supervisors. I'll leave it at that.
5. The local news. I don't normally watch the news, so this shouldn't be much of a problem. But it's like watching King of the Hill, which would be good if I weren't so damn disturbed that it's real. The weather people are all like Nancy Gribble. And the news people, well, I can't describe them.
6. The local weather. This gets it's own line item because it is brutal. Yesterday, I was all freaked out about a disastrous hail storm that was going to hit any minute. It interrupted the Olympics every minute for an HOUR with Severe Warning bulletins, urging us to take cover. And then I find out it's in freakin' New Mexico!
7. This is a good thing in Lubbock, but it doesn't bode well for me. Apparently, there was massive excitement in town because we broke records by receiving 2.5 inches of rain this month. We haven't done that since 1992.
8. The hard water. It actually stained my hair red. Apparently the iron is really bad here.
9. Dry, cracked skin anyone?
10. everything is slow. slow. slow. slow. And people are lacksidaisical (how do you spell that?) like Boobah. I tried to find a good Boobah video and came across this. It made me chuckle.

The Ugly
1. I don't get paid until Oct 1
2. The stupid ass snow pig of a bitch in the business office just felt overwhelmed this week from pounding root beer and fritos, and so she failed to process our scholarships. I had to put $3,000 on my credit card today or get dropped from classes. They swear they'll pay me back. Her exact words, matter of factly, "Well, I'm just overwhelmed and so it didn't get done this week, and it may not get done next week, and don't ask me about it neither." Her boss, present in this meeting, took her out in the hall and talked with her, and he came back in and swore we'd get our money.
3. The gas company guy. He came in and started probing me for info, as if I'd give it to him, and tried to freak me out. Seriously, we're talking creepazoid of the sexual assault type. [shiver] Then he came back, claiming that he forgot his tools! When he saw my male landlord, he ran away. Creepy.
4. No water for 2 days. Apparently, the water company here rips out the water meter bc there is a history of water meter theft on abandoned houses. So weird.
5. The smell from my sink. WTF is it? I can't kill it.


So that's it for my first 4 days in LBB. I'm sure there will be tales to tell. Yarns to spin. Fun to be had. Yessirree. Still no new Catbirds yet. I'll keep you posted.

Cranky's Post Game Report

Yesterday began as a bad day for me. My laundry room flooded, people at work are pushing every last ounce of energy I have to tolerate morons, someone dinged my car in two places in the parking lot--the list continues.

I blame most of it to the fact that I didn't have a White Russian the night before. Celebrating Marmot Day without a Caucasian is like Mardi Gras without the King's Cake and gratuitous nudity. Thinking that it's never too late for a Cauc, I headed home in my dinged up car and poured myself a nice tall one.

Then I got hungry, so I headed out to a local bar/grill and ordered some food and another Russian while watching bull riding on TV. Why a bar/grill wouldn't be showing pre-game stuff on Superbowl Sunday is beyond me, but I got bull riding instead. And this is no ordinary bull riding, my friends. No, the wonder worriers of the 21st century have tainted another ridiculous sport (dodgeball being the first). Now bull riders are encouraged to wear helmets, neck braces, and kevlar vests. COME ON! You are the same people who beat wimpy kids up for wearing stupid shit like that. Don't get me wrong. They probably should wear protective gear. Still, given that it is generally a sport meant to prove some sense of stereotypical "manhood," I'm surprised they wear the things, and you have to admit that it looks pretty funny. [no offense to G's brother who would probably look hot in a helmet].

Ok, so on to the game. Here are my Cranky highlights in random order:

1. Yeah Giants!

2. A marmot and Rocky themes in commercials. It's like they knew I was watching.

3. Wes Welker--That little son of a bitch was amazing. If he were a woman, Glinda would be all over him. He looked like a Munchkin tackling a bunch of winged monkeys. He was like fucking Scrappy Doo out there. Unbelievable.

4. Sobe Lizards dancing to Thriller. I didn't understand the commercial. I thought the woman was entirely untalented and unnecessary, but damnit, the lizards made me happy.

5. I never thought I'd say this, but that Audi was HOT!

6. Howie [sigh]; I *heart* Howie.

7. This is the first time I've watched TB without screaming: "I fucking hate Terry Bradshaw...stupidass...[more profanity]. Maybe it's because he didn't have a voice.

8. Seriously, at what point will Jimmy Johnson's hair thin? Is it real? Has it always been a rug? I'm so confused.

9. Couldn't help but notice the abundance of 49ers references: Bill Walsh, Steve Young (2nd best QB ever), Joe Montana (#1), Jerry Rice (#1 WR EVER), Ronnie Lott...

10. Is it bad that I put my lit phone up in the air during Free Fallin'?

11. 4:00 left on the clock during the final quarter: Did anyone else see a robot on the field? [found out later that this was some sort of camera. I swear it looked like Number 5].

12. 4th quarter with less than a minute to go: holy shit. OMG. Eli somehow emerges from a tangled mess of humans, passes it to Tyree, who caught it while being pinned in a Backbreaker WWF style. Unbelievable!

13. Prince Caspian--woohoooooooo!

14. Danica Patrick--she's strong and talented, and I just keep hoping she avoids that fine line between being a woman who excels in a traditionally male sport and being a woman who caters to the traditional male view of women as sex object.

15. OMG the final catch

16. ok, I know it's a hybrid, but what the hell do the Mannings need another Escalade in their family for?

17. And finally, why couldn't someone have at least mentioned Archie Manning. it cost me my Bingo, damnit.

So, the upshot is that it IS never too late for a Caucasian. They turn even the most lugubrious days into Crankylicious ones.

Happy Marmot Day!

I loved groundhog's day as a kid. Perhaps it was because it was a day about a rodent, one of my favorite creatures. Perhaps it was because my family gives each other presents for every holiday. Perhaps it was because I held on to childlike hope that the groundhog would not, in fact, see his shadow.

As the years went by, my delight in groundhog's day morphed into confusion: In order to see his shadow, it would have to be bright outside, so a sunny day should indicate the end of winter, not the beginning of it. Nevertheless, I pushed all doubts aside and basked in the glory of all things groundhog.

And then, around 5 years ago (yes, it took me that long), it hit me--those bastards always make the damn groundhog see his shadow. I lived under the delusion that they sat the damn rat on a stump and looked for a shadow. It was one blustery, dark winter's day when I saw that there was no shadow, yet Pete or Phil or whatever still saw it. Like today, for instance--Look at the photos! There is no shadow, yet he sees it in the "bright sky." Yeah, right.

So I quit loving groundhog's day until this year. It's the year of the rat and the year of the marmot, and I am happy to celebrate all things rodent. Ever since Prax and I saw that dead bloated thing and developed the OM plan, I have thought more and more about how we should be supporters, rallyers, proponents of the marmot. They need our support, for gods' sake. I mean, Robert Goulet's clone is practically wiping them out.

So on this day, Feb 2, 2008, I hearby declare the beginning of a series of Marmot days, for I shall celebrate Groundhog's day with fervor, year after year. Bowling, White Russians, ferrets, sasparilla, a donation to some urban achievers' fund--the festivities are endless, and I know that Prax is celebrating with me on the other side of the country. Next year, perhaps, I will throw a party, and if I am in Lubbock, we'll have tumbleweeds to boot!

For now, my only regret is that I didn't purchase my tshirt.

Morning before xmas

Twas the morning before xmas
and all through my house
not a creature was stirring
except my cats and their mouse.

The stockings were packed
in their boxes this year
Because this xmas season
I'm up to my rear.

And Radford was snuggled
all down in his den
Meaning Dylan was king
of the complex again.

With eggnog in hand,
and no one to toast
I'd just settled down
for a little blog post.

When on my computer
there arose such a clatter
I clicked on my email
to see what was the matter.

Someone had sent me
themselves in disguise
as an elf of dear Santa
with big bulging eyes.

Chuckling a little
I turned to my blog
Scrolling through the year's post
to see what I've logged.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a gamut of stories--not so bad of a year!

In January, for instance,
I headed to Philly
with Praxis and Y arms
climbing steps willy nilly.

And the rest of the year
in the cranky hall of fame
I'll shorten and simply
list them by name:

Damn Catbirds, OUT CP, and what's with Texas shabbats?
Dreams of aliens, hippos, McSteamy, and marmots.
Goodbye G, Hello running, Chinese and the burbs
Kimday, Lubbock, Fence Rider, and Bizarro Catbirds

Not as wild as last year
but who's keeping track?
At least I have finally
come to terms with my "rack."

Don Eduardo remains happy
He's had a great run (no pun intended)
but for 2008
I'm accepting my buns

And this poem could go on
but I'm into brevity
Happy xmas to all
or at least "wine up" like me!

The marmot is not the issue

The armadillo is. Unlike the marmot, Dylan is live and well and has usurped Radford's hiding place by my garage. I came home tonight hoping to see Radford (who has been hiding for about 3 weeks now), and there was little Dylan, trekking across the parking lot from the bushes.

I like Dylan. I hope to become better friends with Dylan, but he better not have run Radford and Regina off. I'll be pretty pissed.

Don't look at the fat ass losers and freaks. You look at MEEEEEEE!!!!

Ah, gotta love Best in Show.

Praxis, the man for his time and place, came down to sunny Houston as one of the legs of his Snowbird Vacation. There was much walking, naming nuts, kareoke singing, marmot sighting, and Lebowski viewing. We also ate bbq where, right in the middle of Sunday football, the bar was broadcasting pro bowling and a dog show. And yes, Prax visited Bizarro Catbirds, where we meet with Twoshirts and Goldie and changed the lyrics to songs.

BC is really starting to have some problems. Half the place was closed down. My favorite bartender was not there. It took them 35 min to figure out how to make an Irish Coffee or to not figure it out, actually, because I never got it. Apparently, it was "too much of an issue" or so the waitress said.

All in all, it was krunk, to use the parlance of our times.

So Praxis leaves with a mission in hand--Operation Marmot. It's top secret, so I can't reveal the contents. He also has Operation Robert Goulet, which involves posting about the aforementioned singer in a marmot coat singing Christmas carols. Post on, Praxis. Post on.

My own version of Groundhog's day

Well, it's official. I've been here two years now. Tuesday marks the 2 year anniversary that I started my descent from Chicago into Texas, crying the entire bloody way while Edgy tried to console me that Texas would be ok and that I could always visit Chicago.

Yesterday marks the day that I woke up in Arkansas and thought, "It's not too late. I can turn back." But I didn't. I drove right on into Helltown during the middle of the superbowl (which was in Houston that year).

Today, though, marks the day that I, dressed as a couch because my clothes were all covered in wine that exploded from the freezing temps in my car, started work at HCC, met TwoShirts and Glinda (the only plus), and started a life of hell that seems to replay itself every fucking day that I awaken to the sound of ImaTool and Doofus in the morning, "It's a wonderful morning to be alive," and drive off to yet another job that sucks the marrow from my bones.

Now, to celebrate, I plan to go to bed, wake up tomorrow to ImaTool and Doofus, hopefully see my fucking shadow and crawl back in my little hole to hibernate for 6 more weeks. By that time, it will be Spring Break.

Cheers!