Continuum

Last night while mini-bowling (long story)...I heard the Coldplay song, "Yellow" played at least 36 times in a row from some malfunctioned stereo system...Over and over again. I did not get sick of it. That song reminds me of a certain time in my life and I look back at it fondly.

The dreams have not stopped, but have only gotten worse. Please get out of my dreams, you know who you are. I care for you deeply and always will, but cannot stand the reoccurring scenarios of plastic boats, DMB t-shirts, leather couches, random movies, and chain link fences on a nightly basis. This has affected my daily life.

Automatic

I use the words, "sliding doors" quite often and quite loosely. Until now, I have never fully explained this term, even to my friends. I guess it is because I like my little secret world, my secret phrase, and in the past I have enjoyed using it while muttering under my breath. I will now attempt to explain to the best of my ability. Think of me as a book. Now open me.

I saw the Gwenyth Paltrow movie, Sliding Doors, a hundred years ago. I really didn't think twice about it...probably because the decisions I made back then were sadly irrelevant...where to go for Spring Break, whether or not to tell my father about the teensy little fender bender in the HEB parking lot, which color swimsuit to buy...(oh hell, I'll take one of each). I guess what I'm saying is there really were no explosive consequences for any of the choices I faced. But I guess that comes with the territory of being 17.

In the movie, it shows how different her life would be in two different outcomes all based on if she made the train, or missed the train. I adapted it a bit. To me, sliding doors is used when I think about how crazy different my life would be if I would have made one small decision different at a time in my life.

For example, remember the time I jumped ship my first freshman semester and came back to town for a crazy douche bag that will be left nameless? Sliding doors. One decision....and bam, here I am still in school all these years later, paying my own way. Oh and by the way, that same decision left a relationship with one of my parents completely demolished. Who knows what would have happened if I had stayed? I am thankful, nonetheless.

EVERY breakup....sliding doors. Each and every one of them could have had possibilites.

Friendships, letting go my pride. Sliding doors.

Where the hell would I be now? Australia? Still here in this town? Living a nightmare in east Texas with the same douche bag?

I am a complete "what if" type person...I hate that I am, but I am. I always have been, and can't help it. Consider me John Mayer's female counterpart. Maybe I should get into the lyrics writing business. People would love my negativity.

I'm almost positive people will look down on me for this "what if" quality...but the truth of the matter is, I'm saying what you're thinking.

Suggestion.

I don't care what anyone says....David Archuleta's performance of "Imagine" on Idol last year was so amazing that I don't think anyone has, or ever will come close to topping it. YouTube. Now. Perfection. I still go and listen to it at least once a month. Dare I say it....better than Lennon's.

Inquiry

Does anyone else miss Oasis?

Stranger than Fiction

Quickly throwing my current thoughts onto this blog in no particular order.

• Someone PLEASE explain to me why the White House has "set apart" a block of tickets specifically for gay families and their children for this year's Easter Egg Roll? If they want to attend, fine, but why should they get priority availability? Oh well, this is the least of our country's worries.
• I just ran a mile. I thought I was going to barf. I am aware this makes me a pansy.
• I want an entire wall of my children's rooms filled with big, tall bookshelves with books. Thousands of them. I have made my mom save every single one of our childhood books so that my kid's can read them. This has created somewhat of a storage predicament for her. Berenstein Bears, American Girl, Judy Blume, Eric Carl, you name it. My babies will be reading vintage books. Be on the lookout for a future blog on my obsession with children's books...
• I have a new habit of going to the library computer lab for awhile after class. This makes me feel extremely scholastic. Besides, what else would I be doing during the day?
• My TIVO cut off Adam Lambert last night. Don't fret...I You Tubed.
• Why is my mommy's sweet tea better than any sweet tea I've ever tasted? Biased.

Tj

Castle in the Air

I have been having the absolute craziest dreams lately...and for the past couple weeks these dreams have been occurring every single night. I know that supposedly we have numerous dreams every time we sleep, but lately I wake up with them fresh in my head, then I usually continue to think of them throughout the rest of the day. Sometimes if it was prominent or bizarre enough, I'll think about the dream for days on end.

I've always been a frequent dreamer...usually I'll remember my dreams 4 to 6 times out of the week. Some people think this is weird. I went through a short spurt this past winter where I had a scary dream pretty much every night. These creepy dreams of mine almost always have the same theme: Someone is trying to get in my house through the front door, and I am trying to find a place to hide. I always hear the same noises. The noises stem back from the very first horrifying dream that I can remember having, probably when I was 8 or 9 years old. I remember the entire dream, in color. It involved a red-headed woman and two other men pounding on the front door of my family's house and muffled screaming. Terrifying now, even more terrifying in 1993.

I'm naturally sentimental...you all know this. Most of you people probably like me because of that quality alone, if not for any other reason...But when it comes to my dreams this is NOT a good characteristic. There is always, always someone from my past that shows up for a starring role. The weirdest thing about these dreams? The random people that turn up in them.

Last night? My 5th grade world's biggest crush. 3 nights ago it was my cousin's best friend. Last week it was my best friend from the 6th grade. I've dreamt about every single ex-boyfriend that I've EVER had. Ever. And these aren't cameos. They dominate the dream. Does this make me abnormal?? Does it? I am happily, happily married. I love my friends. I love my life. I wouldn't change much. I've tried not eating past 7 o'clock thinking maybe my late dinners had something to do with it. I'm convinced that it's Facebook's fault...it's always someone from Facebook. These "guest stars" have got to go or I'll be writing a strongly worded letter to Dr. Phil McGraw. Maybe I need to be hypnotized.

Seeking Immediate Help.
-T

My Cup Runneth Over

Today was like going to the produce section and not having to sift through every tomato to find a decent, ripe one...because every single one is perfect.

First off I had the best barrel of laughs in Spanish class. We were to stand up when our professor called on us and act out whatever particular verb or emotion he told us to in front of the class. My hilarious and adorable friend Steve (let it also be known that he is the only friend I've EVER made at school and we get along so well that we recently decided that he is the male version of myself) got the word, "asustado", which is "afraid" in English. So he made some weird face and we laughed. Then it was my turn. I always dread being singled out in that class because I am convinced that I am the only one in the room that isn't fluent in the language. Thank God I got a word I knew, "enfermo" which means "sick". I panicked slash spassed out a tad and started making a face like I was crying. Everyone sort of laughed but I thought I had done pretty well. Later Steve informed me that I should have sneezed. Or coughed. Either one of those would've mimed out "sick" a little better. Whatever. Totally not fair that the Spanish speakers get to take conversational courses and get A's. My teacher continued on to the girl that sits in front of me when all of a sudden, Andrew, who sits behind us and hasn't said A WORD all semester stands up and starts having some sort of attack that looks like a cross between a convulsion and a hip hop routine. He quickly regroups and proudly states, "BORRACHO"...(which means drunk in English)....I almost peed my pants. It was the most random display I've seen since my brother stood up in the High School Counselor's office and said, "I'M SEXUALLY ACTIVE!". There are some BIG time weirdos at my school.

After escuela I headed out to the lake house with Shelby; Bentley and Haleigh in tow. After trying to find a restaurant with a patio that allowed dogs (no luck)...we ate shrimp dip and lump crab cakes lunch at Lucky's overlooking the water. It was gorgeous. I could telepathically sense Will and Jason's extreme feelings of jealousy. We grabbed the dogs and headed to Wimberley Creek....our favorite spot in Texas, ate some Blue Bell, and sat in the water while Bentley swam like Michael Phelps.

Finish it off with dinner at Perico's with my mom and her NISD friends, Britt, 2 margs, and an impromptu trip to Academy at 9:30 to grab some Nikes. I could fill this blog with things to be thankful for.

Repeat Please.

Jai guru deva om

I don't know why nobody told you

How to unfold your love

----------------------------------

My obsession with The Beatles began a long, long time ago. I am convinced that I listened to them in the womb, because I have been pretty attached ever since I can remember. When I was little I would dance around my dad's office like a maniac and tumble on a thick blue somersault mat listening to The Sgt. Pepper's album over and over again....I'm talking the actual record people, not the cassette tape. This is true love. "When I'm Sixty-Four" stands out the most in my memory during those dance sessions, but probably because it was the catchiest.

I am not a fair-weathered fan. I have stayed true all these years. I try not to flaunt my enthusiasm for them too much in fear of being the annoying girl. Although I have had to resist the ever-daunting temptation of buying the "I Miss the Beatles" bumper sticker.

"Blackbird" sounds pretty repetitive when you just hear it....but actually listen and it will change your life. "Eleanor Rigby"...what? Insane! I'll just go ahead and be stereotypical when I mention "Hey Jude", "Here Comes the Sun", "The Long and Winding Road", and one of the greatest written songs in the universe, "Yesterday". Oh. my. God.

The reason I decided to take a break from my "senses" rant and blog on The Beatles is because I heard "Penny Lane" on the radio the other day and honestly could not remember the last time I had heard such a good song on the radio. Sometimes I'll catch some old Oasis or something that gets me going but hearing PL totally made me realize how today's music is shit. Except JM...don't you worry, that will never change.

My Next Tattoo:

"And in the end

the love you take

is equal to the

love you make"

Peepers

I hate touching my own eyes. It disgusts me. In the last 5 years I have avoided this as much as possible by committing the ultimate optometry crime...keeping my contacts in my eye way longer than they should be left in.

I know it sounds gross, but I have put 1 month lenses in my eyes, then gone 6 to 8 months before taking them out. Bad habit, but like I said, physically touching my eyeball grosses me out. It's like my hands can't get clean enough. But recently this has all changed. After visiting the eye doctor for the sole purpose of getting an up to date prescription, I found myself getting lectured and reprimanded VERY harshly. I'm talking the way a toddler gets talked to after sticking his hand in an electrical socket. You would have thought I cussed in church or committed some other unforgivable crime of that sort. While the doctor boomed over me in all of his glory, I sat there meek and small with my tail between my legs. He told me flat out that if I continued this habit, then I would permanently screw up my eyes. He sent me packing with NIGHTLY contacts, and no prescription until he saw me the next week and I had proved that I took the new contacts out each night to give my eyes "a rest". Which I have, reluctantly...but still haven't gone back to my follow-up appointment to get my prescription. It's a vicious circle.

Sticking my finger on my eye ball...not pleasant, but here are some things that are.

Reem Acra Couture Gowns have become my recent online viewing obsession. Not that I have ever touched one, let alone been in the same room as one, but I am intrigued nonetheless.

Traveling....I craved seeing more and more each day. I wanted to fill my head with awesome sights so that I would always have memories of the different places we saw.

Two words....Google Earth. How f-ing cool is Google Earth? If our great-grandparents knew the things we could do these days they'd poop themselves.

The top view at Eisenhower Park, which I just recently saw. Gorgeous reward for working your butt off to get to the top.