Proud can I never be of what I hate....Courteous of WS

It's been like, 13 years now so I can feel it's been long enough to indulge the following:

I was, and still am secretly disappointed in the movie version of Romeo and Juliet...you know, the one with my self-proclaimed soul mate, Leo. Of course when it came out I freaked and went to see it, bought the movie on the release date and the soundtrack even before that...but it was never what I built it up to be. Maybe it's the modern day time frame, or maybe it's just that I would have stabbed Claire Danes in her sleep to get to play that part with arguably the most perfect man EVER. But all the same, it kind of sucked. Don't get me wrong, there are some marvelous parts that did and still do tug on my heart strings...ummm, the pool scene. Duh. Plus I love the long white dress that she wears at the beginning. I'll still defend it when someone bashes it for it having too many "thou" and "thy's"...but deep down I wasn't satisfied. I think it could be the camera work. It's a little spastic.

I got my hair cut today...which is surprising. I don't do well with change.

Big Blog Love

I used to blog sporadically...maybe 3 times a week or so. But my fabulous friend Kendall has recently joined this "21st century blog craze" and she writes daily...so it's only fair that I do as well since I'm pretty sure we are the only people who read each others blog. Ha. Except the tiny fact that I'm fairly certain that R. Pattinson logs onto mine every couple days or so. So if you're reading this RPatz, I love you. And I love you too Kendall.



I'm an addicted to Big Love. I urge everyone to take advantage of your HBO On Demand or NetFlix and start from season 1. It is SO GOOD. Pretty sure it's better than Dexter and True Blood (which is like trying to find something better than steak or lobster bisque) and about as good as the Tudors. My mom has this built up animosity towards the fact that I even watch the show. Something to do with the Mormon thing probably. But she has something against vampires too...I'm beginning to think she discriminates.


Oh....My best friend's baby (and my God baby), Blake, is turning 1 on Saturday. It seems like just yesterday he was born! He's honestly the world's most beautiful child. And I'm not biased. So Happy Birthday Blakey!!!


**T**

Jean vs. Vera

Why do people dress up to go to SAC? It honestly bugs me. Sometimes while in class, I can hardly concentrate because I can only focus on the 19 year old sitting next to me's outfit. These girls seriously dress like their about to be picked up in a neon green Palms limo and be taken to Pure. It's ridic. This is something I have been wanting to blog about for quite some time. Just a reminder, these are early MORNING classes. This would entail getting up early just for the sake of looking hot for Mr. Nakkamarra, my math teacher, because I'm sure not many guys are looking for their future wives at 8:30 in the morning...at SAC. The girl in front of me in Spanish (not the same one who brought the full on McDonalds breakfast to class complete with pancakes AND eggs) wore skinny black pants and hot pink 3 inch heels on Monday. I guess maybe my biggest problem with this is that it makes me look scrubalicious. Not that I care...at all...but one day I might develop a complex. Sometimes I'm proud of myself for even putting on jeans when I drag my ass out of bed instead of the tempting notion to stay comfy in sweat or yoga pants. I don't care what these Sacians do, but I will not wander off the plaid, ponytail, and ugg train.

Maybe tomorrow something outlandish will occur so that I can blog about something interesting.

-T

"Paging Patrick Swayze..."

Update on the weird things I've been subjected to out here in no man's land:

1. Waking up at 6 a.m. to drive into town to attend my 9 a.m. class. You must be wondering...3 hours to get to SAC? No my friends, not at all. The reason would be that if I leave at 7:45, I sit in the slew of Bulverde's best soccer moms and CEO's Mercedes SLK's and Carrera's. Must admit I look a tad out of place at the Starbuck's parking lot. But I mean come on, there's way better things to spend my money on other than cars...beginning with Machiattos. Ending with Margot traveler bags.

2. Hiking. Well you probably wouldn't call it actual hiking. But walking down to the river with the dogs on rocks constitutes hiking in my book. I'm pretty sure there were some calories burned.

3. My next door neighbor Cassius. He is 11 and pretty much the coolest but oddest child I've ever met. My sister has told me endless stories about him, but until I actually had a conversation with him I didn't understand. He probably gave me more insight in one hour than my sociology professor did all semester last year. Just a few of our topics of conversation:
Bands (Rolling Stones included of course)
How long it takes to walk to Sattler
Where to get the best frito pies in town (which I later found out is also a bait house...sick)
Abortion. When I was 11 I don't think I even knew what abortion was.
His illegal CD selling business.
And the list goes on. Check back frequently for updates on my new life enhancing acquaintance.

So anyway, you get the picture right? Well none of these fun-filled things prepared me for what I encountered last night...

306 Roadhouse.

Let's paint a mental picture shall we? The building has probably been there since 1942, it's dirty, it's loud, it's smoky, and most of all....it's Bring-Your-Own-Liquor. Firstly, take the judgemental glance right off your snarky face...yes I was at a bar, but I'm 24. And didn't drive. And I'm married. Defensive self justification. So we walk inside, and it honestly felt like a movie scene where the band stops and EVERY head in the joint turns straight to you in slow motion. This was not a figment of my delusional imagination. Honest. Ask Shelby. They all hated us. I could tell. Which I don't appreciate. I'm sick of the stereotyping. So we go to the bar and get carded VERY carefully. Of course I wanted something tropical and girly and gay to drink...which was returned with a "WELL WE GOT SHMIRNOFF...." The place only sells beer. If you want liquor, you bring it in your LV Speedy 30.

Well it just so happened that after getting my Miller Lite, I recognized the toothless waitress from Canyon Lake Cafe (the place that has the Braun Station Elementary steak finger replicas) and went over to say hello. It got easier after I had found a friend. The rest of the night is kind of a blur, but I can tell you with fair certainty that I walked in on a lady in the bathroom (it's called a LOCK, sweetie), introduced the 60 year old neighborhood treasurer to my boss from the dance studio via text messaging, and got my picture taken by a grandpa with a Motorola Razor. All in all I would say it was an establishment right out of one of those creepy alien movies where the town hicks gather to shoot pool and get sloshed. I will return one day with pictures. Pending I make it out of there alive next time.

-T

A Short Spurt

If you don't like me...
I urge you to proceed with caution.

This shit it ridiculous. I honestly can't turn on the TV without being blinded by that woman. Let's not even bring Obama into this. I respect him for the position he is in, but if I have to look at Hillary every day for years to come, I am cancelling my Time Warner contract and throwing my plasma off the balcony. The woman repulses me.

A Bit of Randomness

Are gas prices rising again? How convenient...the exact same week I move an hour away from the real world. Just my f-ing luck.

I like how the "5 hour energy" commercial shows some red-headed guy rambling the longest run on sentence I've ever heard at 80 mph. Yes, I want to be like that guy. Phentermine much?

Exposure

Now that my new life has me driving all over South Texas and I spend the majority of my time conversing with a 6 pound malti-poo, I've had a little too much time to think. Being alone is scary sometimes for obvious reasons. It forces you to get to know yourself, to think about your life and your future and all that jazz. I've realized some things about myself...things it took only 24 short but fantastical years for me to figure out.

1. I care way too much about homeless people. Sometimes after seeing one, I can't get them out of my head for days. I still remember so many of them in different situations...the old lady by Olive Garden hoping someone would give her leftovers (I really didn't need that chicken marsala anyway), the "veteran" under 410 who carries a Bible (I almost handed my car over to that one), and of course my very fave, the old man who travels the I-10 corridor who always has his hair cut and never wants to take my money. I'm partial to him. My sister practically invited him to Thanksgiving dinner...well not really, but she might as well had.

2. I'm pretty sure I secretly wish that I could sing. Not only sing, but like, sing sing. I'm talking C. Aguilera style. I only just noticed when David Archuleta came on the radio and I got pretty into it. Can't believe I'm admitting that I like that song. Love that song. "Cause I just got to knoooooowww...."

That's all for now. Can't go exposing my entire self in one night. That would make me a slut.

Love you all,

T

If I Could.

In true Taylor style, I feel inclined to bitch about things I'll never change. But would if I could. I wonder what it would be like to be the rainmaker....oh Rob Thomas, I'll never get over you. Anyways, let's pretend. I'll be the Queen of America, which in turn knocks Obama back to...well, wherever he came from...and this is my beef. Can't believe I said beef.

1. If you know me, you knew this was coming. Mexican Nationals. Don't get hysterical. This is def not a racial slur. Yes, yes I'm forever thankful for the economy boost. But let's get down to business. This is solely in regards to them taking ALL my parking spaces at every single retail store in the city, AS WELL as all my beaded Banana Rebublic dresses (that were on sale by the way) and leaving nothing but a size 0. This is turn caused me to gaze longingly at the craftsmanship, then leave the store and go stick my finger down my throat in attempts to one day fit into that exact dress. Reality sets in....Not happening anytime soon. I was just in Mexico last month, and I'm here to testify that they DO in fact have pretty decent shopping. If you like leather.

2. This one is a new discovery. Seeing non-friends tagging mutual friends on Facebook. Look facebook-jeti, I'm not always in the mood to check out 25 plus pictures of ex-flames and their new love interests. I'd much rather stick a flaming hot fork down my throat. I'm sure you're wondering why I would even subject myself to these pictures. Why not just ignore it? And of course there are reasons. These pictures are like a really bad train wreck...I want to look away, I want to be speeding past the eye sore and not checking the rear view mirror...but I can't. It's pure magnet poetry. Next being the obvious explanantion...my massochistic tendencies. You know you feel the same way. Let's revolt.

3. The weather. It's January and 84 degrees. Give me enough time to wear some fedoras. Enough said.

4. The Jonas Brothers.

In other news, we are finally almost completely moved to the lake house....AND I actually found the gray Priorities prep jacket that I have hunted endlessly for. Hoorah. It's the small things in life.