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.

Murfle

Could someone please remind me that I am not 22 anymore. Stayed out all night last night. Running on Mountain Dew and no sleep. And the worst part is that this week is dance around, sing, and act crazy on stage week, not sit at your desk and pretend to work week.

Murfle.

Murfle!

I am soooo freakin tired. I had complete insomnia last night, and I'm not sure if it was D-day induced, green beer induced, or what, but I didn't sleep at all. Went out with the CP and some other guy for a free pitcher (other guy's sister is a bartender), and much emotional weirdness happened (before and after the pub) which led to an awkward parting and to me going home, looking up General Cinema trailers on you tube, blowing Prax off for a bit on IM (sorry Prax, but you'll understand in a minute) and then suddenly feeling as if I were on speed.

Weirdest thing ever. My heart started beating as if it were keeping up with an Anthrax song, and when I tried to relax and sleep, my mind starting going a mile a minute. I couldn't stop problem solving everything from emotional weirdness of the evening to emotional weirdness of everyday to what curriculum I might want to use for the summer preschool program (that one was actually a worthwhile brain venture). It felt like the one time I mixed Mountain Dew with a couple of Vivarin back in college so that I could get a semester's worth of studying done 3 days before finals while in the backseat of a car during a random road trip. Not as fun, however, last night, this went on from 11:30pm until 6am this morning when I finally got up and took a shower.

I slipped coming out of the shower, though, bruised my knee and slid half of my sideways turned foot underneath a portion of the wall where the baseboard is missing. I pulled my foot out of the crevice, swollen and bruised, and I think I broke my fucking toe. All of this occurs as I am trying to get ready to go to work (and to the store to buy soda and popcorn bc the kids had a free day today). Taping up my foot, I slip on some opaque tights and squeeze the newly clubbed foot into my favorite little heels and, like a good dancer, forgot about the pain.

During a break from work today, I mention to the CP that I got no sleep last night, and he says, "Yeah, I only got a couple of hours. My mind was racing all over the place. I couldn't stop thinking." SAME THING! He says his heart didn't race (maybe he doesn't have one--I should've added but didn't because I never think of witty things to say unless I'm writing them. Dorothy Parker I am not, unless behind the crutch of a keyboard). But what the hell is that? My supposition is that the green beer was TAINTED or that I'm allergic to the dye. I've actually never had green beer before and really wanted a Guinness, but who's going to deny a free pitcher of beer, you know?

Anyway, a few Starbucks visits later, I'm awake enough to continue my day and keep my circadian rhythms afloat. I've got an apartment appt at 4 bc crazy Jackie won't call me back about G's place.

The $1700 blog entry--prelude

What a night--a night warranting an advil and one of my special smoothie concoctions (works even better than Vault: soymilk, fresh OJ, and frozen cranberries) this morning.

It started off as any other night. I, in need of a night out for once (this new job has me working late most nights), said, "Edge, let's go to the symphony in the park." Well, our state birds, Los Mosquitos, kept that from happening, so we opted for dinner and a movie instead. Here in TX, you can have dinner and a movie in one place, thanks to Harlows, so we went there for dinner. Actually, I was pleasantly surprised with the food, and the mashed potatoes were nummy.

It had been a long day, so I added a Mai Tai with dinner, even though I've cheated enough this week. You have to cheat when you sit in meetings all day, and they bring in lunch to keep you there longer. Great Mai Tai and really big and strong (I like 'em big and strong) but the service--not so great. We missed our movie and any other movies we wanted to see at the 7ish time frame, so we had to wait until 9.

Well, I needed to go shopping for some items for a father's day project (for the kids) this weekend, so we decided to walk a mile or so up to the nearest Walgreens. We've gone about a 1/4 mile when out of the sky appears the little black cloud that is always over Eeyore's head. Damn thing pours on us and seems to follow us everywhere we walk. The funny thing is that the rest of the skies are perfect.

We make it back to Harlows, soaked. The valet guys give us glares, as do all the people in the restaurant. And then, as I'm trying to make my way to the bar through an odd sea of people, some 1970s game show host steps in front of me (Edgy just walks by to the bar, unnoticed):
"HEY!"
Um, hey?
"What? You don't remember me? It's David, remember?"
[blank stare]
"I can't believe you don't remember me! Julia, right?"
[blank stare]
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were Julia, one of our members. You look just like her."
Um, yeah, I am Julia; I just go by Jules, more often. Um, yeah, so open bar right?
"Yeah, and free food, too. Help yourself. And Katie's assigned to you so let her know if you want to make any arrangements."
[blank stare]
"With any of the other singles."
Riiight. yeah, ok. Well, thanks, David. Sorry I didn't recognize you right off. I was a little discombobulated with the sudden rain and all and plus, are you working out?
"Why yes, I am, actually."
Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, I'm gonna make my way to the bar now. Thanks a lot.
[I walk to the bar, thousands of hungry eyes following me. ] This should be fun, I thought.

I'm Tainted--ahhhhhhh

Sweet mother of God. Everytime we go to the Devilport, I am reminded of why we don't go there often. It's because the next day, I'm resigned to eating baked lays, salsa, and "Co-Cola's new energy drink." I've got a Warrior sized headache (going away now that I'm drinking my Co-Cola). Plus, at about 7 this morning, the Warrior took her revenge (something akin to Montezuma's revenge, if you get my drift). Still, an excellent way to celebrate the inaugural year of Warriorday. Here are highlights:

• The trip to Michaels the day before. It's like the poor white trash girl's Tiffany's. I quote Holly Golightly: "Well, when I get [the mean reds] the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!" Everyone was so nice in Michaels, and they even gave me 40% off of my purchase, even though I didn't have a coupon.
• Fried pickles and ranch dressing, dubbed "Warrior Spears"
• Glinda had a Guiness because it was "darksided." I had a 5th avenue because I wanted a 5th avenue; Chuck had a Manhattan (I guess our drinks could represent the East Coast where all the tainted people live); Twoshirts had iced tea (I'm starting to think that he is on the other side--LIGHTSIDED!)
• Discussion of firearms at dinner, just like any redneck family from Ponchatula Parish
• The unveiling of the official Warriorday t-shirts (Edgy's--Gorgyles!; Mine--Slykicks!; Glinda's--Tainted!; and Twoshirts got shafted because I accidentally bought the wrong size. Praxis, your iron on transfer will be in the mail soon).
• Wearing of such tshirts--Glinda in a crew neck--HA!
• Parking situation at Devilport--there is no parking. I don't know where we all parked.
• The menu--very little tainted material to work with. We had to get creative. Twoshirts had Barbie's Bathwater, a drink which he felt "shrunk [his] testicles to the size of [something, I don't remember]." Glinda and I had Pitbull in the SKYY because she is most definitely a Pitbull hovering above everyone. Chuck had Sex at Sunset, when he should've remembered her pithy saying at the radio station, "I promise you won't go blind." During this time, Praxis was fighting with the dryer and Beelzebounce.
• Watching fish porn on TV and screaming, "Get it, Nemo--UH!"
• Some guy from the Merc in NY who flipped his business card at us and begged us not to take his picture just so that we would take his picture. He represented the 15 minutes of fame that the Warrior should've had but that we keep dragging out for her.
• This part didn't happen last night, but I just have to wonder if Corpus Christi will erect a statue of the Warrior. Why, you ask? Because Corpus already has 3 statues in the main square, apparently: Columbus, Jesus, and Selena. Why not the Warrior? Her gap toothed smile and portruding boob would forever be cast in bronze.
• The pictures. ungodly. I'll leave you to Glinda for those.
• Second round of drinks: G--same; Me--Antarctic Blast (It was blue and made no reference to the Warrior, but it was tasty); Edgy--what did Edgy get? And Twoshirts left--LIGHTSIDED. Praxis inadvertently left, too, because both my phone and G's died. We will have to wait for his post.
• Second and a 1/2 round of drinks: Some Pentecostal looking woman came up and offered us an Apple Martini, which Edgy gulped down, the warrior that he is. She wanted 2 ciggies in return, so maybe she wasn't Pentecostal. I think she was a plant from the Warrior--a test of sorts. We turned her dorksided anyway. G and I split another Pitbull. This was bad because any ounce of liquor over 2 drinks in the Devilport is ungodly. [Minor tangent here: One night I was drinking a martini at the D, and Edgy wanted some. We asked for a rocks glass with very little ice. I poured him a full rocks glass of the toxin, and then looked back at my martini glass. It looked virtually untouched. That, my friends, is the power of the Devilport. Do not mock us for only having 2 1/2 drinks]
• discussion of Mary and priests and the This and the That. No moon, though.
• Final departure, with G inviting us over for some wine (good god, I would never have recovered)

Well, folks, Co-Cola did me right. That Vault drink did the trick, and I am "healed." Time to finish cleaning my house now.

Just in the St. Nick of time

I'm getting pretty tired of searching for jobs and was about to throw in the towel, so I went down to check my mail. What to my wondering eyes did appear? A package from Praxis88!

So now, I am all jazzed up to send out resumes right and left because I have my GodWarrior mix crankin'. Wooohooo!

Thanks, Prax! Very creative. I personally like the references to tainted and GET OUT. Too bad Glinda is off snowboarding. Poor thing. She has to wait a week for her copy! It pays to stay in Pewston.