I've moved

I know. I just wasn't into this one anymore.

New one.

http://thedevilfeedsmecheesefries.blogspot.com/

Christmas Haul

So, this year was not so bad. The snow outside made it really feel like Christmas. My British mother was too afraid to go out in it. Her years in Houston have made her a weather wuss. I ended up sliding over to First Chinese BBQ and we dined on duck. I'm not complaining. That darn duck is so good, you will suck it off the bones.

Anyway, the presents came in fast and furious.

Mom gave me:
A bunch of cash
The book Kitty Wigs. ITS FABULOUS. I had written her 3 months ago that if she loved me she would get me it for Christmas. I guess she got the memo.
Tickets to a couple of shows at the Dallas Theater Center

My sister gave me:
A painting of my kitty cat Penny she did from a photo. Its so sweet. Its my favorite picture of Penny (aka Grand Master P). I need to get it framed.

My dad gave me:
A gift card to jcrew. Wasn't expecting that. Even on sale, I only got a dress and a shirt.

My friend Cherry gave me:
A kitten calendar (does anyone else see a theme here?)
A great pair of earrings
A wonderful smelly candle

Not bad. I'll take it.

So, I think this was what I needed. One more week and the year is done.

Roller coaster ride

I was having lunch with a friend today, and they reminded me of something I had told them this summer. I had said how much I loved my life. I went on about how great it was.

How can six months make such a difference?

I guess he brought it up because I just kept saying how I wanted this year to be over and how bad it was. The last two months have just been hard. And lately I've just been thinking.

Is this the life I want. Do I want to be married to my job? Do I want kids? Ok, I know the answer to that one, but I don't appear in anyway to be trying to get there.

I get all moody and down.

And then Violet comes up and crawls into my lap for a cuddle.

Really, this year hasn't been so bad. I need to get over the bad stuff and move on. Good things are about.

Getting Into the Holidays

Even though I don't have a single decoration up in my house nor the slightest thought of putting them up anytime in the near future, the rest of the world has gone whole hog into the holiday spirit. This includes my office. We had our holiday happy hour last night, and today my little group has our holiday luncheon.

I was good and went out Wednesday night to buy my Dirty Santa gift. I don't want to be banished for bad gift giving. So, I did what everyone else does: go to Goody Goody or Siegels and buy $20 worth of liquor. I am not quite sure what that says about my job that all of us give and get liquor at the holidays.

My first year, I got a bottle of red wine. I only noticed after the fact that a note was written on it "To Bill, happy holidays xxxx". Regifting is not very holidayish of people. I felt bad for the bottle of wine and drank it.

The next year I got a bottle of Asti. I'm just not even gonna comment on that one.

The next year I got a picture frame. Someone did not get the "only bring liquor" memo.

So, I've had two off years. I think if the universe is fair, I should be unwrapping a nice bottle of Gray Goose at about noon.

My stupid mouth

Well, how a week changes everything. I have started this blog about 4 times, and I had to close out after 2 or 3 sentences. It's my head. I've been angry, and what I've written could be taken the wrong way. Even though this is my blog, I have to think of other people. So, I actually started a journal, and I'm writing it down on paper with a pen. So old school and retro. But I can say what I want and its mine.

I lost a good friend this week. My head has finally wrapped around it. I was discussing it this afternoon, and I realized, that I was in a good place. I think the anger is gone. I realize that it might come back, but overall spending the weekend taking care of myself has helped.

In a nutshell, I lost Heather. She was a good girl. I appreciated her as I felt she appreciated me. I would tell her some of the idiot things I have done, and she wouldn't judge. And I knew, if anyone ever hurt me, she would be one of the first ones to kick their ass.

I was trying to remember the last conversation I had with her. Was it about our lives and our futures? No. Was it about her son? No. Was it about my job? No.

It was about oral sex. Seriously, I think one of the last things I ever said to her was "He was sleeping with about 5-10 women and living a certain lifestyle, and I didn't want that lifestyle in my mouth." Seriously, besides saying goodbye and forcing a cupcake on her, that was the last real thing I said.

I gave her a laugh. It wasn't anything deep, but in my very unclassy way, I made her smile. I'm good with that.

Aha, I'm not crazy

On the drive back yesterday, I listened to my backlog of podcasts. I finally caught up with Radiolab. The topic was parasites.

Seriously, couldn't stop it. Fascinating. Attaching the link to the part that got me.

http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/episodes/2009/09/25/segments/133981

It was a discussion on Toxoplasma Gondii. I learnt in parasitology class in college about how pregnant women were not supposed to clean the cat box. That is because they could be infected by this parasite that is found in cat poop. It leads to miscarriages etc. Not so great stuff.

They go into how exacty toxo works. We humans are the wrong host for it. We are not part of its life cycle. It wants to actually be in rats/rodents. Something that a cat eats. The toxo just wants to get back into the cat and multiply.

When it is in the rat, it works its way into the rats brain and rewires the rat. It makes it so that the rat begins to love the smell of cat. The rat falls in love with the cat, making it so that the rat does not run away when the cat is nearby. Next thing you know, the rat becomes lunch and the toxo gets back into the cat.

Soooo, that has made people start to think. Has toxo rewired humans? Is there a reason that we love cats so much? Are crazy cat ladies really crazy or just infected?

For me, I'm not completely sure. I'm a third generation cat lover. At Thanksgiving, we discussed how everyone in the family has at least one cat. Are we all infected or is it just genetic? Either way, I'm all good with it.

Houston

My dad is a geophysicist. That is a very very fancy and over-educated way to say my dad looks for oil. (Black gold, Texas crude). If you are an oilman, where is the logical place for you to live and raise a family. Houston.

Looking back, my childhood in Houston was not so bad, but all I ever wanted to do was get out of there. It was hot, and muggy, and had these huge churches that were super conservative and scary. The list went on and on.

But, whenever I drive back into town, I get happy. I remember things. Being in high school and hanging out on Richmond and Montrose. Red Square on a Saturday night and dancing until 2. The House of Guys (Pies) on Kirby, getting coffee and people watching. Numbers, Butera's, the Alabama Bookstop, Brasil, The Menil, Step Back Sams, the Dream Merchant.

Things have come and gone. I had dinner at the old site of the Dream Merchant at Mark's. It used to be the clothing store that was in an old church. I remember coming home in high school and telling my mom about that store. They sold Docs on what used to be the alter area. Now it's a fancy restaurant. Super fancy. The alter is now the bar. My mom seemed to have issues with them selling shoes on it, but liquor, not so much.

Really, not a bad town. Maybe I'm waxing poetically because it's November and the weather is beautiful. Lets see how much I like this place when I visit in July.

Thanksgiving

I just looked, and it has been too long. I stopped blogging for a bit. It became a chore. When something you love becomes a chore, I find it best to take a step back and do other things until that something becomes something you want to do again.

So, I'm back.

The past couple of months have kind of been a mess. I think my mind has been in about 50 places. I ended up dealing with things by doing my version of hiding. I take on too much. Every day of the week I had something. If it wasn't running 6 miles, it was meeting up with friends for 3 hours etc. This finally all caught up with me in November.

My sister got sick again. Her breast cancer came back. The only reason I knew was she texted me about a picture she wanted, and at the bottom she put she was getting her implants redone the next week. I thought to myself "why is she getting them redone??" So, of course I called her.

She acted very non-chalant and explained that during her annual visit with the oncologist, after a series of tests, they just decided to give her a second mastectomy. Also, since its been a couple of years, and she is going to need a new implant, they were going to give her a new one and replace the old. Oh, and take out a bunch of lymph nodes while they were at it. Nothing big.

I kept it all in and talked along with her like it was nothing big. I got off the phone, went to bed, went to work the next day, and proceeded to have a breakdown. Thank god we have the lactation room. At least I had a place to hide out.

Anyway, she finally had the surgery, and of course I have another breakdown outside of Houston's when I hear she isn't doing well. I'm way too emotional for my own good. Unfortunately, Houston's doesn't have a lactation room. They have a 2 hour wait.

So, time moves on and Thanksgiving is coming. No one seems to have any plans. I was thinking I would just orphan it in Dallas. When you say something like that, the offers to take you in come out of the woodwork.

Originally, I had agreed to go with Julie to her families Thanksgiving in Emory. Then, my sister calls and said it was decided that everyone was going to meet in Houston. She and her husband were driving down from Little Rock, and Alex was flying in from Sweden. If he could fly in from Sweden, I could drive 4 hours home.

My poor mom had a week to figure out how to cook for 9 people.

And here I sit. 4 hours later and a Bucees t-shirt. I'm home. Let the dysfunctional fun begin.

Baby Birds

I was having a conversation the other week about one of my hobbies. I take in baby birds. They are those people who I feel sorry for that I bring into my circle. The problem is they are baby birds. You never know what they are actually going to grow into. You have to watch out, or they might become turkey buzzards.

I don't know what it is. I guess I drive people crazy. My dad says I am too judgemental. I really don't think so. Have you seen some of the men I've dated? I'm overall very accepting of others and their lifestyle. As long as your not hurting anyone, I'm just fine with it.

Here is the problem with the baby birds. They usually don't think about anyone else. They are trying to grow themselves. They are trying to spread their wings. If you get in the way, they are going to take you out.

Unfortunately, I speak up and say what I think. That results in four page missives about how much I stink as a human being. After about the 3rd one, you kind of get used to it.

But, do I stop, no. Everyone deserves a chance. And what is another psycho crazy letter anyway?

Hacking

Early this morning, I get a notice from Facebook that my friend Andy from Michigan had accepted my friend request. I was so excited. I trully loved Andy. He was married to my old roommate Erica.

So, when I get on Facebook, imagine how happy I am when he connects to me via chat and wants to talk. I ask him how he is, and he says he isn't doing so good. He then explains he was robbed at gunpoint in London. I was aghast. I couldn't believe it.

He then says they took his phone and his credit card, but left his passport. His flight home is in a couple of hours, but he is having issues with the hotel. He can't get the bill paid. He wanted me to send him some money. He said he would refund it.

Immediately, my hackles came up. I haven't spoken to Andy in years, and he is contacting me over Facebook and wants me to send him money??? So, I go into detective mode. I start asking him how he is using a computer. He says he is at the library. I ask if his company has travel people he can speak to. I ask if he has called his family.

He responds that he has heard from some of his family, but they could only get enough money to pay for his return ticket. I'm again thinking, this is just wrong. Andy is very professional. Why would he buy a one way ticket to London?

Finally, I ask him about his mom. I know his mother would do anything for him and spend anything. I say why isn't she helping. He says she is waiting for a check to clear, and she is flat broke. Ok, lie lie lie. His mom is loaded. She lives in Lee Iacoca's house, the one he lived in when he turned around Chrysler. And she is waiting for a check to clear??

That is when I told him he was not Andy and to please leave me alone.

Afterwards, he dropped he as a friend on Facebook and dissappeared. I sent an email to Andy and his wife while I was having this conversation just to double check, but I hadn't heard back. I started having doubts. What if Andy's mom had lost everything due to the autos? Etc.

Andy wrote me back about ten minutes later and announced he was working from his couch in Okemos, Michigan and was doing A OK. He thanked me for the hack update. He said he is never on Facebook and someone, somehow got in, and changed the email address. So, even he can't get in and fix it.

Seriously, how awful are some people??

A new predicament

We moved offices a couple of months ago. Everything is about the same as at the old office except the water dispensers and the bathrooms. Not to focus on potties yet again, but the new bathrooms have messed with my head.

The toilets flush automatically. I know this shouldn't be too big a deal, but I have become a slave to these contraptions. They flush incredibly quickly. You have to be super fast to get everything in. So now, when I got, where-ever I am, I am speedy gonzalez.

BUT, when it comes to flushing, I've become lazy. I'm not used to doing it anymore. I will stand up and wonder why nothing is going on back there. Its very confusing. I guess I've become a bit like pavlovs dog.

They call me shameless

I have come to discover something about myself. When I run for long periods of time, my body just kind of shuts down. Its putting all its energy into the running. So, all the other systems just seem to go haywire. The main one I'm having issues with is my, hmmm how do I put this, my going to the bathroom system. For some reason, within 20 minutes of starting to run, I have to go. ITS AWFUL!!

I am my own worst enemy too. I want to stay hydrated. So, I keep drinking water. I'm feeding the system. I am supposed to remember not to drink an hour before I go out. I should put sticky notes all over the house.

This Wednesday was awful. We are over at White Rock by the bathhouse doing hills. After the first warm up mile and the 2nd hill, I have the feeling. I hold it hold it hold it. I get through the fourth hill and start running the cool down mile, and I just can't take it any longer. We are passing the boat dock, and I see a suv parked there by the water. A perfect cover. I tell the girls I have to go, and I will meet them by the water fountain.

So, quick as can be, I run over to the side of the truck, squat and get er done. No one sees me. I am thinking I'm all good. I pull my stuff up, get all organized, and start jogging off. That is when I pass the drivers side of the truck to see, there was someone in it.

Classy. Yep, I'm classy.

Hermit

This weekend, I was one. Seriously. I feel like I had been out every night the week before. Actually, I was out every night the week before. Friday, I was out a bit too late. Ug. That was just ugly. BUT, the wine was good and so was the company.

I don't know how I did it when I was 24. How did I drink until 2 am and then show up at work at 8 am, half asleep but still ready to perform? Saturday, I was a zombie. I kept pumping water into myself and eating Lara Bars. I took a 5 hour nap. And THEN I was human again.

So, being bad, I cancelled plans and hermitted up. I curled up on the couch with a book I'm determined to finish about an African childhood. Its hard reading. I mean she just goes off about how hard it was to live in Rhodesia as a white woman during the war of independence. Maybe I'm the crazy one, but I just keep thinking "who would choose to livin Rhodesia during a war???" But I kept reading.

Sunday, I was good as gold, woke up early, and went to run the Katy Trail. My friend who met me wasn't really into running though. So we didn't get much done. Mostly talked. I was all good with that too. And then I caught up with life. I cleaned a bit. I actually bought food. I paid bills. And then I took another looonnng nap.

Really I have no complaints. I need to do this more often.

A nice balance

I think I've finally struck it. The running took over my life for a while. I was seriously scheduling my life around the amoutn of mileage I had to run. But over the last couple of weeks, I think I've figured it out.

My life has seriously changed for the better though. I'm waking up early. Some people view that as a con, but for me its great. I get more done before 9 on a Saturday morning then I used to do on a whole Saturday.

My body is changing. I received two compliments about my butt in the last week. Just in case you didn't know, I've never had a bottom. They don't grow in my family. To actually have someone compliment me on mine and not in a pick you up kind of way made me feel fantastic.

I just feel good overall.

Don't get me wrong. I still have my usual dysfunctions, but they don't appear to affect me as much as usual. I'm ok all around. Life is too short to wallow. Seriously, I think a lot goes through your head when your running. Some very zen moments that just calm you down.

I'm liking the new me!

Ohhhh Nooooo

http://eatsblog.dallasnews.com/archives/2009/08/van-roberts-to-close-lola.html

I just went two weeks ago with my sister and one of my best friends. This is just tearing me apart.

I remember the first time I went to Lola. My mom was in town, we did dinner with four of my friends. Dave, an old wine friend who moved to Chicago, said he was going to order and pay for all the wine. And we let him. It was one of the best meals ever. Dave ordered about 4 bottles of white burgandy. He was in a mood. The conversation was great. Honestly, just a lovely night.

I don't know why this is upsetting me. I guess its because Dallas is losing a nice little restaurant that isn't hot or hip. It just makes good food. The wine list is amazing. The prices are right.

I'm just a little sad something special is going away.

How do they do that rock n roll lifestyle?

I have come to discover that my social life is inversely proportional to the amount of miles I run every week. I run 2 miles, I go out 5 nights that week. I run 6 miles, I go out 1 night that week.

This week I had a sports injury. No running. I was out and about constantly. Friday and Saturday, I was out until after 2 am. And, it absolutely almost killed me.

How do people do it??

I have to admit both Friday and Saturday, I was out of bed by 8 am. I'm guessing most of the rockstarish people were not. By Sunday, my body just shut down. It just didn't want to leave the house. It just wanted to sit on the couch and complain.

I did force it to leave the house and go running for a couple of miles. It wasn't happy, but it did it. I actually think it was happy because it figured out that once the running started, the social life would calm down again.

I think I have grown to like my early morning, not drink so much, and be health routine.

Who am I??

An open letter to Chef Kent

Dear Mr. Rathburn

I guess I should start with a little history. Seven years ago I moved to Dallas. I knew exactly two people in town, and neither of them very well. One of them, a friend of a friend Dave, and I had one big thing in common, food. Seeing as I had just moved down here from the food wasteland known as Detroit, he offered to take me out for a very Dallas night. I told my boss about this, and she handed me a copy of D Magazine and told me to find something fun.

When Dave called to see where I wanted to go, I flipped through the magazine to the food section and jokingly said "lets do this alphabetically". He was up for it. The first restaurant listed was Abacus. He made a reservation and we came the next weekend.

That meal was one of the most amazing of my life. You have to understand. I spent five years of my life living off of coney island food and Labatts. My system was about to shut down. Abacus was a revelation. On a whim, I ordered the lobster shooters and the entire time I was eating them, I didn't speak a word. You have to understand. I'm a talker. The food was so good, it shut me up.

Anyway, over the next couple of years, Dave and I went to Abacus with friends, parents, coworkers etc. But Dallas being Dallas, the last couple of years, so many good places have opened up, that I haven't really frequented Abacus lately. I have been to Jaspers, but for some reason not Abacus.

This week, friends wanted to get together for drinks, and I saw your email about happenings at different Rathburn restaurants, and I saw that Abacus was having specials. One friend is on a significant budget, and I thought this would be a cheaper way to have a nice meal.

We met in the bar last night and ordered a couple of glasses of wine, which we knew were discounted, and a couple of sushi rolls. Unfortunately, I had read your site wrong. I had read it that the sushi was discounted along with the drinks from 5-7 and after 9. I swear that was how it looked when I saw the newsletter.

So, imagine my shock when we received the bill and the sushi was full price. The waitress explained I had read wrong. Sushi was only discounted after 9. I felt so awful. It was way too much for my friend to pay. Between her being in shock and me feeling awful, my third friend swiped up the bill and paid it.

Trully, I just felt awfull.

I just wanted to let you know that there are some of us non-english majors out there that might need some things spelled out more clearly for us. Unfortunately, the stimulus package almost gave a good friend a heart attack.

Thank you,
---------------------------------------------------------------
UPDATE

Abacus just called. They had messed up in the newsletter. They had listed sushi was half price before seven. The waitress was supposed to honor this. They are giving us a full refund and paying for us to come back and have sushi and drinks on them.

YAY!!!!!!!!

My first sports injury

I just realized this morning. I have my first one. I never really did any sports before. Therefore, I've never had one. I was always artsy. You don't hear of too many art injuries. Especially if you were in choir.

Anyway, about a week ago, while I was running at the gym, my left calf just started hurting after 2.5 miles. I finished my three and just kind of walked it off. The next day it seemed to get a bit better. So, I decided it wasn't anything much. I went to my Wednesday night run and it was ok. I kept working out, and on my Saturday 5 miles, it started hurting near mile 3, but it wasn't awful. So, I kept on.

Tuesday morning, I was doing three around the neighborhood, and my calf started aching again after 2.5 miles. Then just at about 3 miles, it tweaked up. I don't know how else to put it. It just started really hurting. I had to stop.

I talked to a number of people, and they all agreed that I needed to stop running. I had probably strained something, and by ignoring it, I was just making it worse. I was told to take ibuprofin ever couple of hours for 3-4 days and to ice it at night.

I have been dilligent. I have a bottle of Advil by my side at all times, and at night, I have been laying on the couch with my leg atop a bag of frozen, shelled edemame.

I felt guilty this morning, so I woke up early and went over to the gym (in the horrid thunderstorm). I rode a bike for an hour. I just thought I needed to do some cardio. Unfortunately, someone took over the TV control and put on CNBC and their hour long Republican discussion on socialized medicine. I see both sides. So, when one completely biased uneducated side is presented, I get fired up. That did make me start to bike a bit faster.

Anyway, I'm supposed to run 6 on Saturday morning. My calf is still pretty tight. I'm going to keep it on a wait and see basis.

Lyrics

As I stated yesterday, my memory is not good, BUT for some reason I can remember song lyrics. I think its because they are just in the background of my life and seep into my brain. For example, this is currently going through my head:

"I like big butts, and I can not lie. You other brothers can deny. That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face, you get sprung."

Earlier this morning, I was putting on my makeup and singing:

"If you want my lovin. If you really dooo. Don't be afraid baby, just ask. You know I'm gonna give it to yoooouuu." (When I'm in my bathroom, I think I sing Aretha really well)

And there was an entire day when I could not get the Spandeau Ballet song catalog out of my head. All one of it ("I know this much is true").

I was at the gym the other week and just walking around between the weights, and I found myself seriously singing along to the following:

"I ain't as good as I once was, but I'm good once, as I ever was"

Toby Keith, SERIOUSLY, I'm singing Toby Keith. I think stuff just gets into my head and stays there forever.

Nicknames

I have an attrocious memory. In order to remember people's names, I have to create games. Many people receive a nickname. When I first joined bookclub, all those years ago, I met 6 girls at once. There was no way I would remember everyone. So, I made up internal nicknames. Mostly there were about hair color. Elizabeth was the redhead and Shandi had the streaks.

Now, as I seem to date an awful lot, the men have acquired nicknames. I know its awful, but it the only way I can keep them apart over time. Some are very simplistic. The Fireman was referred to as the Fireman because he was a Fireman. Some were kind of funny. Jumbo jet was referred to as that because he had more baggage then one (and I say that with love). There were also nicknames that were not entirely nicknames like Big Giant Red Flag and Loser. You can guess why they got those.

Funny enough, I actually talk to all those guys still, but I do use their proper names when talking to them. I don't think Loser would like to know his nickname.

I'm wondering what internal nicknames people have for me??