Wednesday, October 31, 2007


Grandma sent me this one...

Strike of the Cat

It wouldn't be Halloween without a little blood, right?

So I locked the doggy door so the cats (and the dog) cannot get outside. That's because psychos like to catnap cats on Halloween because they're PSYCHO. So I shut my cats inside. Lord knows I don't need anymore drama.

But Zorba was pissed. Not gonna lie. So after crying for an hour, he finally settled down to sleep on the scrapbook I was working on for my college group at church. Bored and alone on Halloween I took to doing the only available and interesting activity: picking fleas off the cat.

Except Zorba, already irritated, didn't appreciate me digging through his long hair and pulling out the little demonic fleas to crush and crunch beneith my fingers. Grossed out? It's Halloween, get over it. So he stuck and, talking on the phone and picking fleas and not paying attention, I wasn't quick enough to avoid his snap. So I got bit. It's bruised and bleeding.



Happy Halloween

In honor of Halloween and celebrating with my family (in spirit) by eating my mom's chili (with fritos and pickles and saltine crackers), playing in my dad's old theatre greasepaint and traipsing through the wet leaves and shivering up to the houses in our neighborhood hoping for chocolate and not Smarties, I share with you a story written by a little boy in my sister's second grade class...

"one spooky nite a boy lost his shoe and a gost eat him. Bogl bogle. give me your candey or I will eat you."

Most Excellent.

Wah ah ah...

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Looking For Something...

I clicked on 36 blogs today looking for memories, stories, anything I could feast on. Memories other than mine, ones that would make me smile. Not that mine don't make me smile (or guffaw), but sometimes remembering can be difficult. It requires a journey backward when we try so hard to go forward (read: forget). Not all anniversaries are pleasant. Some require remembering things we wish had never happened. Other anniversaries are full of joy. This anniversary, I oscillated between the two: sadness and joy. That's a good step, I think.

Craig gave me a little bit of both. I should have expected that.

He was mentioned last night at the Friends of Truett dinner at the BGCT convention. It startled me. I was having a typical boring convention day, then attended the delicious dinner for the sake of free food, then schmoozed with some people, and then he was there, staring at me, grinning. Grinning and dead. And he had an award named after him.

I didn't cry. Sometimes when I'm startled, I cry. But I just sat there, remembering, and trying not to remember.

Shit. Now I'm remembering again... the worst parts... the viewing... the casket.

See, that's why I went to 36 blogs. I guess it still freaks me out. And I don't want to panic or be sad - just remember and be thankful and remember that we're all on this journey together - no one's really gone.

So thanks Craig, and thanks Kyle. Tell God I said hello and thanks for the memories.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

I Heart Halloween and Here's Why...

Guess who came to dinner?

Tinker Bell and her Pirate


A Canadian Flight Attendant

Marilyn Monroe

David Bowie

Two guys from The Office

A Tree Nymph

Nacho Libre

A guy with spiral horns on his head

Bob the painter

A Mayan Priest

A Gypsie

A deranged Bride

Wonder Woman

A Gay Pirate




Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Sunday through Tuesday

Since Dr. Pittman works 15 hour days, I only see her around 4am when we eat breakfast in the kitchen and for about an hour and a half in the evening when we eat dinner and hang out before she goes to bed. Consequently, I spend much of the day with Sophie the dog. Sophie and I go for walks, nap, read (ahem, i read and she naps more), play with the half-eaten purple ball that gets thrown up and down the hallway, and eat.

Oh, and she has a licking fetish. I'm not sure when this started, but she loves kissing now. Sometimes at night when I'm trying to sleep, I have to tuck my head under the covers to protect my face from her long wet tongue. At first it was cute. She gives kisses! Now, I'm afraid I've got dog cooties.

Monday, October 22, 2007


The weather was beautiful.
"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough?" Amy warned, and we went to her closet to grab a scarf and dress coat.
But it was beautiful.
"Your face got sunburned!" Amy guffawed at me later that night. "How do you live in Texas and come to Chicago and get sunburned?!"
"I wear sun block in Texas!" I defended myself, giggling with her.

Mom bought us tickets to go see Wicked on Saturday for Amy's birthday. Oh. My. Gosh. I don't know how I lucked out on that birthday present, but I did. And it was the "best birthday present ever!" as Amy exclaimed. I bought her a tee shirt to commemorate it.

The morning started off at the Handlebar, this great little restaurant tucked into the bottom floor of a building. And the wait staff was to die for. These casual cuties could have been imported from Austin to this delicious dive. So Amy and I enjoyed both the food and the sights!

From there we took the El downtown and after identifying the theatre where we needed to be in a few hours, we began walking towards the lake. Except we didn't. We walked the wrong way. An hour later, we did reach the lake though and the beautiful park, fountains and statues that nestled beside it. Brent and Matt, who we'd intended to meet there, were nowhere to be found, so we headed back toward the Oriental.

But first we had to change our shoes. We'd been wearing walk-able ones since we left the house this morning, but now we were going to the theatre and true to form, we pulled out our heels. "I don't know how Jessica does it," Amy lamented after we had walked a block beautifully in our theatre shoes. "Jessica Simpson wears high heels every day," Amy had informed me earlier when we were walking forever in the wrong direction. "You probably never wear nice shoes at the hospital I guess," I replied, proud that I was fairing better in the heels than my always dolled up sister. "I haven't dressed up in months," she replied.

The Oriental Theatre was gorgeous with all kinds of exquisite animals and gods sculpted into the walls and ceilings. I tried to take a picture of them, but was promptly yelled at and so just admired them through my opera glasses.

Right before the show started, a man came by yelling about water he was selling. "What? Are we at a ballgame? Is nothing sacred anymore?" I muttered under my breath.
"Is he selling food?" Amy asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Twizzlers!" He held them up. "I want those," she said in classic I've returned to childhood persona, petitioning me with her big eyes, and unable to resist her request, I pulled out three dollars and bought them for her.

The show was amazing. Amy turned to me at intermission, "Is it over?" She had tears in her eyes.
"No honey, its just intermission."
"Did you cry?" she asked me.
"No," I giggled, "but obviously you did."

I did cry at the finale. It's really a lovely story about scapegoating and the power of the powerful and the manipulated to decide what's good and what's evil, when it often claims no root in reality. It's about gumption and doing the right thing and friendship. Mostly, it's about friendship and love. That's why I cried. It was so neat to share that with one of my best friends.

So we bought matching tee shirts. Rather, I bought them for us. We called it part of her birthday present. The I heart Oz purple ringer tees with Elpheba and Glenda in the heart. They're way cute and I love that we both have matching ones.

After returning back to our side of town, we ran to the grocery store so we could eat dinner that night and I could cook us dinner the rest of the week. Shocker, I know. But I'm actually quite domesticated even if I can only cook three meals. No one's asking for your opinion.

So we ate onion soup and Amy went to bed. I watched four episodes of Grey's Anatomy on my computer and am content that I am all caught up. I'm not satisfied with the plot, but I am caught up. George and Izzie, I swear...

So that's it. That's Saturday. That was our one day together. And it was perfect. Two sisters, two friends, two pairs of shoes, two tickets, two witches, two meals, too much walking, too much fun.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Friday, October 19, 2007

The Windy City

Well, I'm here. I'm officially covered in hair, bruises, scratches and slobber. Amy's lab Sophie devoured me as soon as I walked in the door. After swinging my luggage at her and shouting, "no" and "down" a bunch of times, I found the treats on the counter and life became more bearable.

Ah, Chicago.

Some things remain the same, even when we switch cities.

From the Airport, I took the El to the designated stop. It felt like I was back in Europe. I love public transit. When I emerged from the train, the grey skies and unfamiliar buildings were refreshing if daunting. There's something about joining with the ranks of humanity and bearing full force into a city. I think our politicians should ride public transportation. With one leg pressed against some over-sized man in sports paraphernalia, while the other guards your backpack under your seat, you've got one hand clutching your purse as the other peruses your iPod which is connected via headphones into one ear while the other ear waits for a call on your Bluetooth that your grandma bought you. Your eyes dart from the cute guy in worn, black jeans and a navy sports coat with a v-neck grey tee underneath to the suspicious men who man be plotting to steal your stuff. Which thief is giving his partner "the look?" The cute guy looks my age but his hands are dirty and his brow is furrowed. Is he having a bad day or is he homeless? Am I checking out a homeless guy? Blue-collar workers get on and off, all of color. The only white people are me, the hot guy, the sports guy, and the rich guy across the aisle, foolishly attempting a business call on the El. One young black girl sleeps with her head against the glass. She looks college age. I hope she doesn't miss her stop.

That's public transit. That's America. Politicians should be put in this position of being one of a million, of no consequence, getting on and off trains.

But right now Sophie's whining. Is she disappointed I'm not Amy? I toss her another treat and say the important words, "take it easy," so she doesn't bite off my hand.

Amy's apartment may be in the ghetto but it is beautiful and of course is decorated impeccably. Just Amy's style. Like blue walls, matching watercolors she painted herself, pictures of her family and friends on every mantle. There's one of me as a first grader. I'm dressed by my father the clothing store manager as if I stepped out of a GQ magazine and am a boy. I have on a blue button up shirt with a navy sweater over it. There is a yellow ribbon in my hair. Though I can't see them, I am sure I am wearing penny loafers on my feet, pennies and all. I look slightly caught off guard as if pictures aren't my thing, but are something I should make the most of. I look innocent but not child-like. Or perhaps child-like but not innocent. It's hard to pinpoint in my smile, which was always bigger and showing more teeth. Especially if I was laughing.

There's my mom and dad and grandma and grandpa, the sisters, both by blood and by nature. It's comforting and I feel like I'm at home.

While feeling like I'm in a foreign country all at the same time.

How did Amy end up in this cave of mystery, this den of unexplored territory? It's like fraggle rock only without all the colors.

I like it.

I like Chicago.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

TV is a drug and I'm addicted. There is nothing better (okay, that's an exaggeration - and i'm sure I just spelled that word wrong - you can correct me later dad) than sitting in a hotel room in a foreign city with nothing to do but watch tv. Okay, that's not exactly true either. You could read the five magazines you brought with you that you've been meaning to devour for the past two months. You could blog. You could read the news online. You could see if they have a workout room at this hotel. There's a plethora of things really. But with a tv is set right in front of your full size bed with fluffy pillows, and there are no pets, no people, no house, no job, nothing to feel guilty about not doing or saying or seeing or working on - well, that's just too difficult a temptation to resist.

House is my second favorite show on television and it's on tuesday night. So when i have the night off, I watch Bones and then House. It's rare, but it happens. Unfortunately there's some baseball game on, but baseball's no good if it's not watched right there in the stadium. So I began sufing the channels.

And I landed on TNT. I should've known better. TNT knows drama and i am a drama queen. So after a typical law & order a newer show that i had never seen came on, Cold Case

TNT loves those blonde cop heroines. So the premise of this show is that old cases get re-opened. You meet the original cast of whatever year the crime took place and then you meet them (the non-dead ones) now. The killer (pun intended) is that the solving of the case is really touching. Each episode ends in a song showing the young and older characters settling in wherever they are... having received closure on the death of their loved one, having been carted off to prison, wherever. But those songs they play... geez! I mean, give a girl a chance to recover from the meladrama before you throw in the soundtrack.

After four episodes of Cold Case and feeling quite fond of my friends on the show, I decided five hours of television was plenty (don't forget i started with Law & Order) and turned off the tv.

Now if i can just turn off my brain...

Monday, October 08, 2007

Golly. What a day.

It started this morning when I made an extra attept to wake up early (I set the alarm for 8:30 and woke up at 9ish) so I could go to work and get a lot accomplished today.

When I walked into the church the alarm went off.

Today was a holiday and I'd forgotten.

So instead of mailing information, I drove it to the workplace of the recipient. And I went to the hospital since residents on my block are having serious issues right now. Tommie, after some sort of heart/passing out/not getting enough oxygen to the brain issue went into the hospital two weeks ago tonight. Miracle of all miracles, she's alive and talking and so excited for visitors. So i chatted with her for awile about my halloween lights and the dogs and what's been going on lately with everyone.

My roommate on the other hand, went into the hospital yesterday after I received a phone call asking me for tums. Now, you must understand that my roomie does NOT take medicine. Consequently, anything that could actually push her so far over the edge as to ask for medecine isn't going to be remedied by Tums. Come on. After an apendectomy 12 hours later, she's better, but I got kicked out of her room for making her laugh (unintentionally!) and requiring her to get back on her oxygen. damnit. and i thought I was getting better at hospital visits. to make matters worse, when I left the hospital parking garage I backed into a car and had to leave a business card with an apology telling them to call me for insurance information. UGH!

But, having discovered it was a holiday and visiting my two friends and running some errands, and quite determined to make the most of it, I went to IKEA to buy a twin bed for my little! back bedroom. I had picked everything out online. Tonight, Frank put it together tonight while Joe H. and I watched. We ordered pizza hut pizza and drank miller light and it was seriously a blast of an evening.

So that's Monday. Unusual for Monday, but greatly appreciated. That you God for surprises good and bad. They are the world. And they remind us the world turns. Turn with us. Amen.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Oh kids. Halloween is on the way!!!

Janie got a new halloween bone and some casual halloween costumes for outings and parties (i haven't decided on a final halloween costume for her yet). Potter and Zorba both got new halloween collars.

Orange and Purple lights are hung on the house (all by myself thank you!). Three pumpkins of varying sizes have been bought and I'm still looking for a glow in the dark skeleton for the back yard!! Yea!

I love playing dress-up!

Saturday, October 06, 2007

I've Been Lazy. Not Dead.

The Death of Blogs

I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. I write so my friends and relatives can stay connected with what's going on in my life. I used to write long emails telling funny antedotes about my life in Texas after I moved here. When I discovered that not everyone appreciated receiving those emails, I discovered the blog world. Now you get to choose whether or not to stay near even when we are far apart.