Truths

I have wrinkles. Tiny lines that decorate my eyes and mouth when i smile and linger thereafter. The encroaching two thousand seventh year has me feeling a little behind. I recently came across a picture taken 5 christmas's ago of my cousins and I, 7 of us total. We looked young and beautiful. Myself with dark, wavy hair, looking very bohemian, Cari with very blonde hair, the only one staring directly into the camera, smiling, holding Juans hand. Joe and Shana, newly married and in love, laughing beautifully as lovers do. Jim, happy, the picture of masculinity, the guy you'd love to set your girlfriends up with. And Aaron, about to embark on his military carreer, high from the recent approval of his grandpa Art (a Veteran), with no idea that the next 5 years will take him to the other side of the country, by submarine. It's good to know that I'm not the only one aging. There's innocence in the picture. Complete naivete of lessons to come. Heartbreak, marriage, pregnancy, war. Common themes of adulthood.

Freaking Awesome

Neat

Jesus should have been my parking garage attendant

I almost died last night. It was late, I was walking through a very dark parking garage, into the depths where I could'nt even see my hand in front of my face. I called for the parking guy, "Hello?" All of a sudden I saw a shadow pass in front of me and then one behind me. I was tense, I was really scared. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, I knew I had to run for my life. Before I could do anything I felt the piercing cold blad of a knife to my throat. Shadow #1 was behind me. I could feel the warmth of his body, the roughness of his cotten hoody that was probably faded from being washed too many times. He was holding his breath, not because he was nervous, but because he was excited, and anxious.

Shadow #2 was in front of me. He was the one in charge, he was fierce, he was going to rape me and then they were going to kill me. Fight or flight. I screamed but nothing came out. As hard as I tried I couldn't make anything but a screechy, breathless "help" come out. 2 stories underground, no one was coming, no one could hear me. I paused, focused myself. "HELP!!!" I screamed as I pushed myself away.

I screamed so loud I woke myself up and I kicked Rodrigo. Sadly, as loud as I screamed I did'nt wake either roommate. If we ever have an intruder, I'm screwed, unless you can die from being licked to death by an overly friendly black lab.

To Quote Kailee: "EW"

I was not aware that Jesus was a gymnastics coach. I guess it should come as no surprise, he DID manage to come back from the dead and turn water into wine, etc....or so I've heard. According to the manufacturer, Jesus also plays hockey, football, teaches ballet, soccer and some other defunct sports that (in an effort to fight childhood obesity) our youth are forced to play.
O' Jesus, where arent thou?

Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

I love Christmastime. I'm sitting in my house, in the dark. Tiny glowing lights have me hyptotized as I type into my 14" white Apple G4 laptop. The decoration is none of my doing. Karin and Carissa came home the other night, real christmas tree in toe, determined to bring the Christmas spirit to our lovely home with the Green Tea colored kitchen and hardwood laminate flooring. They're not blinking lights, but they twinkle none the less. Pink, blue green, and peach lights wrap around the window that frames our kitchen and also around the green palm tree chair. It's like christmas in Hawaii, or Miami.

Our tree is AMAZING. It's definately not a "Charlie Brown" christmas in our house. 8' of beautiful green Douglas Fir adorned with tiny glowing blue and white lights. It's definately Carissa's doing. There are no homemade ornaments or strands of popcorn, instead our tree has tiny bells and perfectly conditionded angels and stars. The smell of happiness hits you as soon as you walk in the door, or wake up. God THAT SMELL! It warms me up, reminds me of home and being safe and happy with no "bills a piling" or "hearts a breaking." The perils of adulthood.

Soon there will be presents under our tree. Im knitting both roommates scarves. Red for Carissa, Blue for Karin. I'm hoping the time and effort I'm putting into their gifts will outweigh the cheapness of it all. Christmas is inconveniant when you have no job.

Christmas has awakened a Suzie Homemaker of sorts in me. I've been cooking...alot. this week alone I've made Chicken Vegetable soup (sauteed onions, garlic, chicken in a pot with red potatoes, brocoli, zuchinni and carrots, in veg. broth and veg. puree, brought to a boil then simmered), chinese stir fry in a peanut sauce, and tonight pad thai with chicken, broc, snap peas, sprouts, carrots and garlic. YUM.

LaLa Land

I was kidnapped yesterday. Stolen away into a black Explorer by Tianna and Becky. Tianna promised a night of fun and drinking. She's single again, so I couldn't say 'no,' and Becky is a party all by herself. We were on our way to "Here," the hottest lesbian bar in LA. A night with no pressure to hook up, awesome. The drive there was easy enough, the "Fierce Five" announced our arrival into LA. In a city that seems always to be screaming, constipated with traffic, this music was a perfect accompanyment. Fallout boy, My Chemical Romance, and 30 Seconds to Mars: fake music for a fake city.

Cruising was on the menu at Here. Short skirts, tight jeans, impossibly high heels were hung neatly on girls with perfectly manicured faces and expertly coiffed hair. Every half hour a deafening siren would sound and the ultra smokin bartenders would climb up on the downstairs bar and perform choreographed dances to songs like "sexy back." Gyrating, lots and lots of gyrating. They were completely mesmerizing.

At the bar, a guy named "Kermit" (I kid you not, that was his name) bought my friends and I shots of tequila. Tianna took it upon herself to introduce us. "Hey, she's straight and so are you, funny!" He was handsome enough, tallish, black, nice smile, and he WAS buying shots. Not really my type though, especially after the first ass grab. So not ok. I was aloof, trying to show obvious disinterest. I was wearing an off-the-shoulder magenta top. He took it upon himself to massage my shoulders. Ick. "Wow, you must work out." Thank God for Becky. Seeing the desperate look in my eyes she tried to rescue me. "That was such a lame line," she said as she grabbed me around the waist and wedged herself between us. The name dropping started. "Can I send a limo to pick you guys up tomorrow? I'm having a huge party, Nickolas Cage (Nick to his friends) and Wesley Snipes will be there." " Ok" I said sarcastically, do these lines really work for him?

Unsandwiched, we made our way outside to the patio to enjoy the rest of our night. Jo fell in love and I was commissioned to play wingman. Haha, awesome! I chatted up two girlfriends as Jo attempted to charm the pants off their third wheel. Slowly, the bar began to empty, parties of two (and sometimes 3) spilled out of the bar and into the street. Sloppy lines of girls with runny makeup magically appeared in front of the Los Pancho burrito shop, girls too drunk to care about the 700 calories they could barely taste.

The drive to Aunt Kays seemed to drag on forever. We finally stumbled in around 4am, exhausted yet completely satisfied. I met my pillow with a heavy head and dreams so vague I can't remember.

Chopped Liver

I looked Hot. I mean, really hott. The kind of hott (yes the kind that warrents a double-t) that even the people that see you everyday feel as though they're in the presence of great hottness. I wore my skinny jeans, the one's that make my butt look phenomenal, my blousy black and white top with the bat-wings, the sinched empire waist and plunging back and neck, a burgundy velvet fitted jacket and my black suede pumps with the stacked wooden heal (4"). Hott.

I even had the walk down. No, not a walk, last night it was a strutt.

Our date was for 8'oclock, at Flemmings. I knew what I wanted: the porterhouse, cooked medium rare, with a glass of Sangiovase and maybe a side of mashed potatoes. For once in my life I was being decisive. Kyle didn't know what he had coming.

7:50 I get a phone call from Tianna.
"Where are you?"
"I just parked."
"FUCK! I think Kyle's flaking."
"Seriously? Why do you think that?"
"I just got off the phone with Heather, she's been calling Kyle all day and he won't return any of her phone calls. She thinks he's flaking."
"Awesome. I should of known better, the Navy is bad news, period. I'm already here, I might as well go and see if he's checked in with the hostess."
I walk into the restaurant. "Reservation under 'Kyle.' Is he here yet?"
"No."
"Ok, I'm gonna go outside and make a phone call."
"Ok, I'll find you when he checks in."
So I go outside and talk on the phone for about 10 minutes. No Kyle. I think to myself "wow, I've never been stood up before. Kinda funny, very inconsiderate.

Blind dates are tricky and can cause some anxiety. If you want to cancel, ok, whatev's, we've never actually met so I have to feelings about you, whatsoever. But be courteous enough to give a girl a head's up. Mira Mesa is a long ways from the gaslamp. Kyle better thank his lucky stars I hadn't been seated before Tianna called me. I can't even imagine the humiliation of sitting at a table, alone, waiting for someone who is never going to show up.

Luckily for me, I already had after-date plans with the girls.

Jiggy? Really?

I went out tonight. Tried to drink away my sorrows. Turns out, I'm too responsible to drink away anyting. Damn.


There was a man on the square-tiled hardwood (laminate) dance floor. He was 76. He got "jiggy wid it."

I don't know what to do with the whole experience.

As JT would say: " Get your sexy on."

So I heard your'e a wino.

Yeah, I'm a wine broker.

Now I just need some clients (note the use of "clients" instead of "customers," it means I'm very grown-up).

Word.

job o riffic

I have a new job, it actually started last Monday. I'm officially a wine broker, well, I will be after I make an official sale. That part is particularily stressful. I won't feel as though I have True job security until that happens.

Please God, it's ME, Grahamcracker.

I love wine, and I really love that I get to drink it at work. Everyday. It's not only O.K to drink at work, my boss(s) are the one's pouring the wine!

No, I don't get drunk. Not after the first day, anyway. Now it's just a single glass, everyday.

Yum.

date 'o' rama

I apparently have a date on Thursday night. I say "apparently" because at no point was I involved in the date-making process. Tianna met a cute boy last night, and, since she is in no way interested in anything with a penis, she passed "Kyle" along to me. Her exact words (to him) were "she's cute, she's tall, and she has great tits." Yes, I know, words so beautiful that Shakespear himself once used them in the Sonnet "Ode to Great Tits." She then proceeded to text me "You have a date. Flemmings. Thursday. 8." "Ok" I said, becase really, what the hell. I could use some lovin, and some good food. This is what I know of him: Kyle is 26, in the Navy (cringe), a great cook (yum), hottie mc hotterson, a surfer and a very sweet guy. Worth at least one date, I'm sure. Now I know I made a rule about the Navy, but is it REALLY fair to stereotype? I mean, c'mon, the guy deserves at least a date. AND one more credit to Kyle's name: Tianna met him at Bourbon st. and he's a friend of Heathers. Which mean he's totally gay friendly. That TOTALLY cancells out the whole "Navy" thing, right?