Friday, June 5, 2009
i got my drink and my two step: 2009 thus far.
Attended Aunts funeral in Stanton on New Year's Day. Entire family stood up and started clapping and singing during worship song. Pastor fainted. Buried my Aunt next to my brother, realized his name was misspelled on his tombstone. Oops. Argued with mom and brother about joining the Navy. Took my mom to breakfast for her birthday. Went to Taco Villa because she didn't know they served breakfast and because they have excellent breakfast burritos. I told her to get a breakfast burrito. She got biscuits and gravy. Turned into a red-head. Drug mom and Christy to Twilight. They thought they would hate it so I bought their tickets. They loved it. I called them bitches. During birthday celebration at La Bodega, my nephew informed me that vampires only pee after dark. I laughed. Launched operation; Fall Out. Drove to Lubbock for a wedding. Fixed lots of hair. Ate lots of food. Drank lots of beer. Accidently paid five dollars to do the dollar dance with my cousin. It was two-step. I hate two-step, but I love my cousin. Sped back to Odessa. Got speeding ticket. Flew to Dallas. Ate nachos with Britta while she told me how to pick a lock with a bobby pin. Watched a special about sloth on the History Channel. Ate pizza with Lindsay at Campisi's. Should have watched the special about gluttony on History Channel. Kissed my dear Geno friend goodbye. Back to work. Had a surprise on my desk. It was from Brandon. Cut my finger opening surprise. Bled all over surprise. Surprise was a new twilight book. How ironic. Got pink eye. Appreciated that God's grace is more than enough. Went to hip hop salsa class with Tonya. Invented hip hop pops. Ate dinner with chop sticks. Watched the Buckeyes lose. Cried myself to sleep because I am Buckeye fan. Began training for Cowtown marathon. Decided I had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. Ate Taco Bueno. Conducted therapy session in Taco Bueno. Realized my expensive dermatologist prescriptions were finally working. Discovered hot, new barista working at my Starbucks. He called me Kate. My name is Penny. Currently trying to decipher if he is gay. Talked to dad after his colonoscopy. (Unpleasant.) Laughed at him because he was soaring high from the medications. Baking cookies tonight. I love my life. I got my drink and my two step. What more does one require?
whataburger: improving coffee and changing the lives of millions, one taquito at a time.
I have this terrible addiction. I kind of like to eat. And currently, I am in the habit of visiting Whataburger on almost a daily basis. It's a happy mix of breakfast, lunch, and dinner go sees. Average visits usually total anywhere from four to eight trips a week. It's sick (or impressive), I know. The question at hand is, why? Why do I shamelessly frequent that beautiful, A-frame building with bright orange lettering? One might think it is their crafty offering of limited-time only menu items. Such as, the honey barbecue chicken strip sandwich, cherry pie, or currently, ninety-nine cent taquitos. All good things. But after scraping away the obvious appeal of these limited time only bargains, I found what it is that keeps me coming back like a thirteen year in a movie theater to watch Twilight for the 10th time…
Fancy ketchup. Disclosing Whataburger; A Conspiracy Theory: It is my belief that the ingredients of Whataburger's fancy ketchup are as follows. Fermented tomatoes and crack. This is the very reason I, and so many others frequent Whataburger like we do. Those sneaky bastards. Charming the public with a condiment. Genius! They are using a complimentary item to keep us coming back and spending on a regular basis. It's sneaky, it's underhanded, and I like it.
Just when I thought this Mecca of fast, fried food goodness could not get any more impressive, I was handed a cup of their new and improved coffee this A.M.. It was fabulous. Whataburger, you just moved up a notch on the belt of outstanding places to eat food. Oh and I almost forgot! The lady in the drive-thru called me mama this morning, and I like that too...
Fancy ketchup. Disclosing Whataburger; A Conspiracy Theory: It is my belief that the ingredients of Whataburger's fancy ketchup are as follows. Fermented tomatoes and crack. This is the very reason I, and so many others frequent Whataburger like we do. Those sneaky bastards. Charming the public with a condiment. Genius! They are using a complimentary item to keep us coming back and spending on a regular basis. It's sneaky, it's underhanded, and I like it.
Just when I thought this Mecca of fast, fried food goodness could not get any more impressive, I was handed a cup of their new and improved coffee this A.M.. It was fabulous. Whataburger, you just moved up a notch on the belt of outstanding places to eat food. Oh and I almost forgot! The lady in the drive-thru called me mama this morning, and I like that too...
a petition of my dear little emmy. sexless in the city: the sweetheart diaries.
(Three excerpts on love and single life while living in the Big D.)
Penny: Hopelessly Adoring Mr. Wrong
I had finally reached a definitive height of contentment. A pinnacle of ease. Wanting nothing. Careless. Feeling one hundred percent whole, when he walked into my life(and ruined it of course). I can account for every detail. All persons involved, the activities, time, location, smells, sounds, apparel... I choose to believe I am not alone in this joyous beginning to an inevitably repetitious and tragic relational misfortune. So I asked my beloved friends to join me in reflection… Someday, someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Penny. Six things I know: 1. Sometimes you have to learn to love what once was, and move on. 2. You can not make someone a priority if they make you an option. 3. If the guy you are seeing does not have even the slightest desire to be intimate with you, he is just keeping you around for comfort. 4. Sometimes the heart can see what the eye cannot. 5. When the dude you are dating tells you he is at the gym, everyday, in three hour shifts, he is probably dating someone else, and not telling you. 6. It doesn't matter if you are a loft dweller in the metropolis, or a trailer occupant in the desert, boys are the same breed everywhere.
"If there is any failing in your generation it is selfishness and the fear of commitment." –Mom
"You have to learn to walk. You have to learn to talk. You have to wear that totally ridiculous hat your grandma bought you. And when you get a little older, even though you get to choose your hats, you don't get to choose what they put in those meatballs in the cafeteria, or when to fall in love. Sometimes stuff happens and you just have to deal." –Halley (How to Deal 2003)
"It is not wise to make rash decisions when it comes to boys or cities." -Myself
Tonya: Kissing a Prince
My dating experience has been very versatile while living in Dallas. I left college ending a serious relationship and was in no hurry to get involved in another relationship so soon. I was a single girl living in the BIG city and I loved every "single" minute of it!
"If you are single there is always one thing you should take out with you on a Saturday night... your friends." CB
And I did…we had the best times! I have been blessed with many amazing friends in my life. I had the most fun meeting new guys and just having a good time. Don't get the wrong impression though…I am a good girl! I am not objected to a few free dinners though ;)
"Are we simply romantically challenged, or are we sluts?" CB – HAHAHAHA…this quote makes me laugh…it's such a cliché for women to settle down so soon! There is such a double standard especially when you are from West Texas and most of your friends are married and having babies!!! I say women should go to college…get an amazing job…spend your OWN money however you want (making sure to save)…buy fabulous shoes and pedi's…and just figure out who you are…it will make the rest of your life more rewarding and your future someone will be able to appreciate your independence and self worth.
I think I will look back at this time in my life as being an accomplished, successful young woman living her dream in Dallas, discovering the type of man who fit with me. Not to say that there were times when I thought I had met the right guy and thought I was ready to but in the end God had a better plan! One of my favorite quotes to this day is…
"Never frown because you do not know who is falling in love with your smile…" Unknown
I had to kiss a lot of frogs to find my Prince Charming!
"Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they are supposed to run wild, until they find someone , just as wild to run with!" CB
So to leave you with a few words of advice that every girl should know…
"….There are those (relationships) that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you, you love, well, that's just fabulous."
*Note: Something we can all learn from T…You might go through many a frogs to find a prince. (Penny)
Emmy: Making Him an Honest Man
Welcome to a day in the life of a single girl in the big city. No, this is not some excerpt of another annoying girl complaining about the single life. The single life is fabulous, exciting and full of free drinks, but dealing with the same BS with your typical 20-something year old men (or should I say boys) gets a tad monotonous day after day. My personal belief is that boys under 30 are not capable of committing. After being hit on by married men, hearing older women complain about marriage, and seeing my girlfriends being cheated on, you start to wonder, "Where did all the good guys go?"
So do we hate the player or hate the game? Seriously, I'm not 18…I do not want to play the game anymore. Granted in the beginning of any relationship, or dating situation it's a given you have to play hard to get for the first few weeks, but playing the game for months on end is a tad ridiculous. Women need to be pursued. So often I feel like we do the pursing. These "boys" need to start growing up and become men. What is wrong with saying… "Listen, I like you!" It's really not that hard, and amazingly no one gets hurt by uttering those simple words. I'm not saying these boys need to be at our feet everyday, and it is not like we NEED a boyfriend. It is just the simple fact that we don't like being played. If you are going to date someone else, that's fine, don't be shady, just say it. We are not crazy… You "boys" make us analyze way too much which makes us think way too much, which in turn makes you think that we are crazy. The good girls just want you "boys" who think you can have your cake and eat it too to know that you can't. We would just like to know that you see it going somewhere and aren't going to be played for months on end. Is that really too much to ask??
* AMEN. Kudos to you, Emmy, for the three bolded points above. You saved me from having to write the same tired story. And just one more final addition to that; Men, stop worrying about hurting my "fragile" feelings, and for God's sake just tell me how you really feel. Translation- Stop requiring me to play the fool, so that you can feel better about yourself.
Love doesn't force itself on others,
It isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Understanding will reach its limit,
So hope unswervingly and love extravagantly.
I Corinthians 13
Penny: Hopelessly Adoring Mr. Wrong
I had finally reached a definitive height of contentment. A pinnacle of ease. Wanting nothing. Careless. Feeling one hundred percent whole, when he walked into my life(and ruined it of course). I can account for every detail. All persons involved, the activities, time, location, smells, sounds, apparel... I choose to believe I am not alone in this joyous beginning to an inevitably repetitious and tragic relational misfortune. So I asked my beloved friends to join me in reflection… Someday, someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Penny. Six things I know: 1. Sometimes you have to learn to love what once was, and move on. 2. You can not make someone a priority if they make you an option. 3. If the guy you are seeing does not have even the slightest desire to be intimate with you, he is just keeping you around for comfort. 4. Sometimes the heart can see what the eye cannot. 5. When the dude you are dating tells you he is at the gym, everyday, in three hour shifts, he is probably dating someone else, and not telling you. 6. It doesn't matter if you are a loft dweller in the metropolis, or a trailer occupant in the desert, boys are the same breed everywhere.
"If there is any failing in your generation it is selfishness and the fear of commitment." –Mom
"You have to learn to walk. You have to learn to talk. You have to wear that totally ridiculous hat your grandma bought you. And when you get a little older, even though you get to choose your hats, you don't get to choose what they put in those meatballs in the cafeteria, or when to fall in love. Sometimes stuff happens and you just have to deal." –Halley (How to Deal 2003)
"It is not wise to make rash decisions when it comes to boys or cities." -Myself
Tonya: Kissing a Prince
My dating experience has been very versatile while living in Dallas. I left college ending a serious relationship and was in no hurry to get involved in another relationship so soon. I was a single girl living in the BIG city and I loved every "single" minute of it!
"If you are single there is always one thing you should take out with you on a Saturday night... your friends." CB
And I did…we had the best times! I have been blessed with many amazing friends in my life. I had the most fun meeting new guys and just having a good time. Don't get the wrong impression though…I am a good girl! I am not objected to a few free dinners though ;)
"Are we simply romantically challenged, or are we sluts?" CB – HAHAHAHA…this quote makes me laugh…it's such a cliché for women to settle down so soon! There is such a double standard especially when you are from West Texas and most of your friends are married and having babies!!! I say women should go to college…get an amazing job…spend your OWN money however you want (making sure to save)…buy fabulous shoes and pedi's…and just figure out who you are…it will make the rest of your life more rewarding and your future someone will be able to appreciate your independence and self worth.
I think I will look back at this time in my life as being an accomplished, successful young woman living her dream in Dallas, discovering the type of man who fit with me. Not to say that there were times when I thought I had met the right guy and thought I was ready to but in the end God had a better plan! One of my favorite quotes to this day is…
"Never frown because you do not know who is falling in love with your smile…" Unknown
I had to kiss a lot of frogs to find my Prince Charming!
"Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they are supposed to run wild, until they find someone , just as wild to run with!" CB
So to leave you with a few words of advice that every girl should know…
"….There are those (relationships) that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you, you love, well, that's just fabulous."
*Note: Something we can all learn from T…You might go through many a frogs to find a prince. (Penny)
Emmy: Making Him an Honest Man
Welcome to a day in the life of a single girl in the big city. No, this is not some excerpt of another annoying girl complaining about the single life. The single life is fabulous, exciting and full of free drinks, but dealing with the same BS with your typical 20-something year old men (or should I say boys) gets a tad monotonous day after day. My personal belief is that boys under 30 are not capable of committing. After being hit on by married men, hearing older women complain about marriage, and seeing my girlfriends being cheated on, you start to wonder, "Where did all the good guys go?"
So do we hate the player or hate the game? Seriously, I'm not 18…I do not want to play the game anymore. Granted in the beginning of any relationship, or dating situation it's a given you have to play hard to get for the first few weeks, but playing the game for months on end is a tad ridiculous. Women need to be pursued. So often I feel like we do the pursing. These "boys" need to start growing up and become men. What is wrong with saying… "Listen, I like you!" It's really not that hard, and amazingly no one gets hurt by uttering those simple words. I'm not saying these boys need to be at our feet everyday, and it is not like we NEED a boyfriend. It is just the simple fact that we don't like being played. If you are going to date someone else, that's fine, don't be shady, just say it. We are not crazy… You "boys" make us analyze way too much which makes us think way too much, which in turn makes you think that we are crazy. The good girls just want you "boys" who think you can have your cake and eat it too to know that you can't. We would just like to know that you see it going somewhere and aren't going to be played for months on end. Is that really too much to ask??
* AMEN. Kudos to you, Emmy, for the three bolded points above. You saved me from having to write the same tired story. And just one more final addition to that; Men, stop worrying about hurting my "fragile" feelings, and for God's sake just tell me how you really feel. Translation- Stop requiring me to play the fool, so that you can feel better about yourself.
Love doesn't force itself on others,
It isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.
Understanding will reach its limit,
So hope unswervingly and love extravagantly.
I Corinthians 13
why i run marathons.
Maybe it's in the sensation of a slight breeze cooling my sweat glazed skin. Maybe it's an excuse to listen to The Killers repetitiously on Scout. (Scout is my iPod.) Or maybe I just really enjoy excruciating pain, both mentally and physically. Why do I run marathons? Why do I run at all?
I run because it's cheaper than therapy. I run because it's free. I run because it makes my jeans that I wore when I was twenty fit me right now. I run because I can. I run because it reminds me of how unbelievable the human body really is. I run because it is a challenge for me. I run because God gave me the ability to. I run because it raises money for credible charities. I run because I like wearing my Ironman watch and appearing as if I actually know of its capabilities. I run so I can buy Runner's World magazine from Barnes&Noble. I run so I can post pictures of myself running on MySpace. I run because it is yet another excuse to travel. I run because I love meeting new people within the running society. I run because it helps my heart to pump blood through my body. I run because I get t-shirts and medals for it, which I will never wear. I run because it means I get to carry candy in my pockets. I run because I got really tired of being that person driving along in my car, passing by an athlete, and thinking to myself, gosh that person is crazy (but secretly wishing I was that crazy person.) I run because now people pass by me in their car, and call me crazy…I like being called crazy. I run because my parents never thought I could or would. I run because Forest did it. I run because I am divorced. I run because I want to be a part of a historical sporting event; to qualify for The Boston Marathon. I run because it means I can eat just about whatever the hell I want. I run because they serve you beer for free on the course. I run because running is fun. I run because I like buying the flashiest running shoes possible and receiving compliments for being such a chic athlete.
But I really do it, for the post shower and post meal. AKA: Heaven on earth. Papadeaux, Starbucks, Chipotle, and Krispy Kreme all within a period of six hours or less. That is some successful nourishment. And there is only one other shower that tops the post race shower. That would be the post, slapping garlic butter on breadsticks at Fazoli's for eight hours every Saturday when I was in college shower. Yes
I run because it's cheaper than therapy. I run because it's free. I run because it makes my jeans that I wore when I was twenty fit me right now. I run because I can. I run because it reminds me of how unbelievable the human body really is. I run because it is a challenge for me. I run because God gave me the ability to. I run because it raises money for credible charities. I run because I like wearing my Ironman watch and appearing as if I actually know of its capabilities. I run so I can buy Runner's World magazine from Barnes&Noble. I run so I can post pictures of myself running on MySpace. I run because it is yet another excuse to travel. I run because I love meeting new people within the running society. I run because it helps my heart to pump blood through my body. I run because I get t-shirts and medals for it, which I will never wear. I run because it means I get to carry candy in my pockets. I run because I got really tired of being that person driving along in my car, passing by an athlete, and thinking to myself, gosh that person is crazy (but secretly wishing I was that crazy person.) I run because now people pass by me in their car, and call me crazy…I like being called crazy. I run because my parents never thought I could or would. I run because Forest did it. I run because I am divorced. I run because I want to be a part of a historical sporting event; to qualify for The Boston Marathon. I run because it means I can eat just about whatever the hell I want. I run because they serve you beer for free on the course. I run because running is fun. I run because I like buying the flashiest running shoes possible and receiving compliments for being such a chic athlete.
But I really do it, for the post shower and post meal. AKA: Heaven on earth. Papadeaux, Starbucks, Chipotle, and Krispy Kreme all within a period of six hours or less. That is some successful nourishment. And there is only one other shower that tops the post race shower. That would be the post, slapping garlic butter on breadsticks at Fazoli's for eight hours every Saturday when I was in college shower. Yes
i want to date charlie brown.
I hate flying. Not the actual act of flying. In fact, I would love to take some aviation courses. Get a piloting license. Can you image? Would you trust me? Ha! I should say I hate airports…and most airlines. I would much rather jump in my car to get from point A to B. But sometimes, circumstances only permit for air travel. I am that person. One of about four things is going to happen when I go to the airport: 1. My flight will be delayed 2. My flight will be overbooked. 3. My luggage will be lost. 4. Security will do everything short of an anal exam to ensure I am not a terrorist disguised as an average, blonde American. What? If I am really lucky, it is a combination of two or more.
Why? Am I always in an airport when I stumble upon self-realization? I suppose airports are good for that. I mean, they have Starbucks, a surplus of people to judge, nothing but time for thinking. Ah, the stage is set. What is this realization I have come to? It is a simple concept really. As I sipped on my Starbucks in an awkward back to back chair, seating me much too close to the stranger behind me than I feel comfortable with, I began to think. I tend to feel lonely in airports. It’s amazing how lonely one can feel even when being surrounded by hundreds of other human beings. I find that is doesn’t matter how many people you are surrounded by, strangers, or those that love you. If it is not a person whom you desire to be around, then you in turn feel lonely. What was causing this invasion of loneliness and lingering penance during this particular airport visit? Rejection. I am currently coping with a big stinky pile of rejection. And my airport encounter is only making it all the more a reality. In my experience there are three calamities most will encounter in this life, which injure the spirit and soul more than any other. If you are fortunate enough to dodge one or two, then lucky you. Although, sometimes I welcome theses effects. They mature you. They initiate growth. They eventually bestow strength and assist in discovery of courage. Rejection. Betrayal. Loss. Not any real fun, it usually hurts like hell and stings like salt in an open wound, but they sharpen the heart.
Accepting rejection. Accepting that someone does not want you. Accepting the facts. It’s simple really, right? Hmm…if a double tall one pump white mocha with whip could put right a broken heart. A nice pack of cloves might come close, but no cigar. (Drums.) I find that the television show FRIENDS is applicable in many a situation… “This is never going to happen. Accept that.” Rachel’s reply to Ross when he has tried everything short of purchasing her a country of her own to reign over in attempt to win her affections. Ross: “Accept that what?” Rachel: “No, ACCEPT THAT.” Ouch. Denied. You know, there is not really anything you CAN do but sit back and accept the other person’s verdict. Do nothing.
So, what does all of this rejection talk have to do with courting Charlie Brown? I have combated with the hurt of rejection for far too long, much like Charlie Brown. That Brownie Charles was constantly encountering denial and loneliness; until there was Peggy Jean…I had the Christmas special on repeat in my DVD player this weekend. Never thought I would have any coming to Jesus moments from watching good ol Chuck on my tele, but I did! 1. Snoopy is hilarious. I want to be like Snoopy. Can’t help but dance to the beat of his own drum, anytime, anywhere! And he has a great laugh. 2. I want to date Charlie Brown. Upon telling Linus about his Christmas shopping and lack of money for gifts, Charlie speaks of Peggy Jean. The girl he cares for. He wants to buy Peggy Jean a pair of gloves, because when they first met at camp, he noticed that she had such pretty hands, and he wants her pretty hands to be warm. Linus asks Charlie why she can’t just stick her pretty little hands in her pocket to keep them warm. Hahahaha, typical. So anyways, Charlie Brown ends up selling his comic book collection (a man that reads comics also a plus) so he can buy Peggy Jean the gloves. Pays attention to details AND sacrificial. Nice. Lessons to be learned from CB, for men and women of all ages! This Peggy Jean is waiting for her Charlie Brown...
For the fellas, if you do not want to buy a girl gloves to keep her pretty hands warm, then don’t even come close to her in an amorous manner.
And now…a little time in education corner for Red, Rye-Rye, and Tea:
Charlie Brown, the principal character for Peanuts, was named after a co-worker at the Art Instruction Schools; Schulz drew much of his inspiration, however, from his own life:
Like Charlie Brown's parents, Schulz's father was a barber and his mother a housewife. Schulz and Charlie Brown were shy and withdrawn. Schulz had a dog when he was a boy, although unlike Snoopy the beagle, it was a pointer. References to Snoopy's brother Spike living outside of Needles, California were likely influenced by the few years (1928 – 1930) that the Schulz family lived there; they had moved to Needles to join other family members who had relocated from Minnesota to tend to an ill cousin. Schulz's "Little Red-Haired Girl" was Donna Johnson, an Art Instruction Schools accountant with whom he fell in love. Schulz was planning to propose to her, but before he got an opportunity to do so, she agreed to marry another man. Linus and Shermy were both named for good friends of his (Linus Maurer and Sherman Plepler, respectively). Peppermint Patty was inspired by Patricia Swanson, one of his cousins on his mother's side. (Explains so much.) Schulz had a long association with ice sports, as both figure skating and ice hockey featured prominently in his cartoons. GOOD GRIEF!
END.
Why? Am I always in an airport when I stumble upon self-realization? I suppose airports are good for that. I mean, they have Starbucks, a surplus of people to judge, nothing but time for thinking. Ah, the stage is set. What is this realization I have come to? It is a simple concept really. As I sipped on my Starbucks in an awkward back to back chair, seating me much too close to the stranger behind me than I feel comfortable with, I began to think. I tend to feel lonely in airports. It’s amazing how lonely one can feel even when being surrounded by hundreds of other human beings. I find that is doesn’t matter how many people you are surrounded by, strangers, or those that love you. If it is not a person whom you desire to be around, then you in turn feel lonely. What was causing this invasion of loneliness and lingering penance during this particular airport visit? Rejection. I am currently coping with a big stinky pile of rejection. And my airport encounter is only making it all the more a reality. In my experience there are three calamities most will encounter in this life, which injure the spirit and soul more than any other. If you are fortunate enough to dodge one or two, then lucky you. Although, sometimes I welcome theses effects. They mature you. They initiate growth. They eventually bestow strength and assist in discovery of courage. Rejection. Betrayal. Loss. Not any real fun, it usually hurts like hell and stings like salt in an open wound, but they sharpen the heart.
Accepting rejection. Accepting that someone does not want you. Accepting the facts. It’s simple really, right? Hmm…if a double tall one pump white mocha with whip could put right a broken heart. A nice pack of cloves might come close, but no cigar. (Drums.) I find that the television show FRIENDS is applicable in many a situation… “This is never going to happen. Accept that.” Rachel’s reply to Ross when he has tried everything short of purchasing her a country of her own to reign over in attempt to win her affections. Ross: “Accept that what?” Rachel: “No, ACCEPT THAT.” Ouch. Denied. You know, there is not really anything you CAN do but sit back and accept the other person’s verdict. Do nothing.
So, what does all of this rejection talk have to do with courting Charlie Brown? I have combated with the hurt of rejection for far too long, much like Charlie Brown. That Brownie Charles was constantly encountering denial and loneliness; until there was Peggy Jean…I had the Christmas special on repeat in my DVD player this weekend. Never thought I would have any coming to Jesus moments from watching good ol Chuck on my tele, but I did! 1. Snoopy is hilarious. I want to be like Snoopy. Can’t help but dance to the beat of his own drum, anytime, anywhere! And he has a great laugh. 2. I want to date Charlie Brown. Upon telling Linus about his Christmas shopping and lack of money for gifts, Charlie speaks of Peggy Jean. The girl he cares for. He wants to buy Peggy Jean a pair of gloves, because when they first met at camp, he noticed that she had such pretty hands, and he wants her pretty hands to be warm. Linus asks Charlie why she can’t just stick her pretty little hands in her pocket to keep them warm. Hahahaha, typical. So anyways, Charlie Brown ends up selling his comic book collection (a man that reads comics also a plus) so he can buy Peggy Jean the gloves. Pays attention to details AND sacrificial. Nice. Lessons to be learned from CB, for men and women of all ages! This Peggy Jean is waiting for her Charlie Brown...
For the fellas, if you do not want to buy a girl gloves to keep her pretty hands warm, then don’t even come close to her in an amorous manner.
And now…a little time in education corner for Red, Rye-Rye, and Tea:
Charlie Brown, the principal character for Peanuts, was named after a co-worker at the Art Instruction Schools; Schulz drew much of his inspiration, however, from his own life:
Like Charlie Brown's parents, Schulz's father was a barber and his mother a housewife. Schulz and Charlie Brown were shy and withdrawn. Schulz had a dog when he was a boy, although unlike Snoopy the beagle, it was a pointer. References to Snoopy's brother Spike living outside of Needles, California were likely influenced by the few years (1928 – 1930) that the Schulz family lived there; they had moved to Needles to join other family members who had relocated from Minnesota to tend to an ill cousin. Schulz's "Little Red-Haired Girl" was Donna Johnson, an Art Instruction Schools accountant with whom he fell in love. Schulz was planning to propose to her, but before he got an opportunity to do so, she agreed to marry another man. Linus and Shermy were both named for good friends of his (Linus Maurer and Sherman Plepler, respectively). Peppermint Patty was inspired by Patricia Swanson, one of his cousins on his mother's side. (Explains so much.) Schulz had a long association with ice sports, as both figure skating and ice hockey featured prominently in his cartoons. GOOD GRIEF!
END.
peng's vampire chronicles.
I am in love with a vampire. His name is NOT Edward Cullen. It was the spring of 1995. I was thirteen. My brother Scott brought home a movie from Blockbuster titled Interview with the Vampire. I remember my mom even today, "Scott, Penny is not gonna like that movie. It will scare her." Even after thirteen years of life with Penny, my mother clearly had no grasp of who her daughter was. I got pissed at her when she told me not to go watch Jurassic Park in the theater with my brothers a year earlier. She said I would hate it and it would scare me, blah, blah, blah. Then when I saw it on vhs, I LOVED it. Mom! You made me miss a phenomenal motion picture experience on the big screen… (I'm not bitter.) Silly mommy, trix are for rabbits. Mom's movie of choice: Steel Magnolias. Penny's movie of choice: Lord of the Rings, or something including a lot of people getting exterminated. Anyways, learning that my mother's choice in movies and mine are completely dissimilar is a whole other blog…
I had no preconceptions or expectations as we started our movie. Who is Brad Pitt? I knew Christian Slater and Tom, of course. The movie immediately took me into a whimsical, sinister, very dark world. A world, where killing innocent for survival is elegant. Where being immortal is endearing and terrible simultaneously. I almost felt sinful for getting pleasure from such a thing. Very well done wardrobe, acting, writing, and special affects. Most impressive in 1995. I desperately wanted to be Claudia. My favorite character in the film, portrayed by a very young Kirsten Dunst. Her film debut I believe. It instantly became my most favorite movie of all time. Nothing has nudged it out of its trophy position to date. IWTV is actually and adaptation from the book by Anne Rice, which surprisingly I have never read. (It's not too late; you can still buy it for me for Christmas.)
This dark and twisted love for vampires has flourished over the years. I found myself watching documentaries on History Channel and Discovery Channel, about Vlad III the Impaler. More recognizably know as the Count or Dracula. Believed to be the roots from which all of this vampire mythology stemmed. I find Vlad (shout out to you Anna!) to be most intriguing. I have not read or watched much on the bloodsucker recently, but I recall the tale going something like this. Romania (Transylvania) - a really, really, really, long time ago, he would impale or crucify his prisoners upside-down and catch there blood in basins below. Then, would enjoy himself a scrumptious, thick, glass of blood with his dinner. Many times, victims were still in a conscience state, body slowly drained of life, as Vlad sipped on their blood, seeing that he liked to indulge while it was till warm. Merlot anyone? There are also gruesome tales of female mutilation and torture he used as punishment for sexual misconduct, or crimes of promiscuity. The count would have their breast cut off or would have them impaled through their vagina. Yeah. You just read that. Reminds me of another evil yet alarmingly intriguing man, Jack the Ripper. Most of the vampire-like horror stories passed thru time all evolved from our dear friend Vlads. Also inspiration for Bram Stoker's classic, Dracula.
Other notable movies/books /comics that nurtured this sick puppy into a healthy love for these blood thirsty immortals are Blade, Van Helsing, A league of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and most recently, Twilight. Elizabeth Bathory is most excellent in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, by the way. Also a true to life person like Vlad the Impaler. She was a countess, who murdered somewhere around 600 girls, and was said to have bathed in their blood. Virgin blood, so that she may retain her youth. She in turn is a pioneer of the vampire movement. Super sick! I love it.
Look out Louis! (Brad Pitt's character in IWTV) There is a new kid in town, and his name is Edward Cullen. It's a rare occasion that I jump on the pop culture train, but this was a must. I was skeptical. I really actually only just jumped on the caboose. Was barely hanging on with my pinky finger when Tonya I walked into the grapevine mills movie theater 2 weeks ago. With our tummies full of steak and Shake and our pre-purchased tickets to Twilight we waited with a theater full of teeny boppers and gothic , star wars emperor-like dressed kiddos, with no clue, no expectations, much like that fateful day 13 years ago when my brother walked thru the door with what is now my most beloved film. I'm not going to say a lot about Twilight. All you need to know is it is good. If you enjoyed watching Louis bite people in IWTV, then you too will enjoy Edward. I bought book two. New Moon. I am halfway thru it. I find the novels to be equally as enjoyable as the movie.
It would be misleading if I was not to make note of the fact that I am extremely squeamish when it comes to blood. Actually, it is not the blood itself that brings me to a weak state of being, it's anything from lack of circulation to gashes, neck/wrist wounds; totally freaks me out! You are confused, I know. How can I be a passionate lover of vampires, but become faint at the sight of a cut vein or the sound of a pounding heartbeat (used for background in IWTV every time someone was getting bitten, genius!) (Actually feeling a little light headed typing this now.) But I felt it important to mention, because if you ever have the experience of taking on a vampire flick with me, I might pass out here or there. Do not panic. It's normal. I think its part of the intrigue. I love a challenge. I enjoy learning to face what I fear.
Why? Why do I and so many others have this odd and quiet honestly disturbing attraction to something so evil, so taboo? I do not know. It's mysterious. It's intriguing. Its hot men battling with the monster within. I dig it. Join me on the dark side won't you?
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer the television series sucks. The Lost Boys movies suck.
I had no preconceptions or expectations as we started our movie. Who is Brad Pitt? I knew Christian Slater and Tom, of course. The movie immediately took me into a whimsical, sinister, very dark world. A world, where killing innocent for survival is elegant. Where being immortal is endearing and terrible simultaneously. I almost felt sinful for getting pleasure from such a thing. Very well done wardrobe, acting, writing, and special affects. Most impressive in 1995. I desperately wanted to be Claudia. My favorite character in the film, portrayed by a very young Kirsten Dunst. Her film debut I believe. It instantly became my most favorite movie of all time. Nothing has nudged it out of its trophy position to date. IWTV is actually and adaptation from the book by Anne Rice, which surprisingly I have never read. (It's not too late; you can still buy it for me for Christmas.)
This dark and twisted love for vampires has flourished over the years. I found myself watching documentaries on History Channel and Discovery Channel, about Vlad III the Impaler. More recognizably know as the Count or Dracula. Believed to be the roots from which all of this vampire mythology stemmed. I find Vlad (shout out to you Anna!) to be most intriguing. I have not read or watched much on the bloodsucker recently, but I recall the tale going something like this. Romania (Transylvania) - a really, really, really, long time ago, he would impale or crucify his prisoners upside-down and catch there blood in basins below. Then, would enjoy himself a scrumptious, thick, glass of blood with his dinner. Many times, victims were still in a conscience state, body slowly drained of life, as Vlad sipped on their blood, seeing that he liked to indulge while it was till warm. Merlot anyone? There are also gruesome tales of female mutilation and torture he used as punishment for sexual misconduct, or crimes of promiscuity. The count would have their breast cut off or would have them impaled through their vagina. Yeah. You just read that. Reminds me of another evil yet alarmingly intriguing man, Jack the Ripper. Most of the vampire-like horror stories passed thru time all evolved from our dear friend Vlads. Also inspiration for Bram Stoker's classic, Dracula.
Other notable movies/books /comics that nurtured this sick puppy into a healthy love for these blood thirsty immortals are Blade, Van Helsing, A league of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and most recently, Twilight. Elizabeth Bathory is most excellent in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, by the way. Also a true to life person like Vlad the Impaler. She was a countess, who murdered somewhere around 600 girls, and was said to have bathed in their blood. Virgin blood, so that she may retain her youth. She in turn is a pioneer of the vampire movement. Super sick! I love it.
Look out Louis! (Brad Pitt's character in IWTV) There is a new kid in town, and his name is Edward Cullen. It's a rare occasion that I jump on the pop culture train, but this was a must. I was skeptical. I really actually only just jumped on the caboose. Was barely hanging on with my pinky finger when Tonya I walked into the grapevine mills movie theater 2 weeks ago. With our tummies full of steak and Shake and our pre-purchased tickets to Twilight we waited with a theater full of teeny boppers and gothic , star wars emperor-like dressed kiddos, with no clue, no expectations, much like that fateful day 13 years ago when my brother walked thru the door with what is now my most beloved film. I'm not going to say a lot about Twilight. All you need to know is it is good. If you enjoyed watching Louis bite people in IWTV, then you too will enjoy Edward. I bought book two. New Moon. I am halfway thru it. I find the novels to be equally as enjoyable as the movie.
It would be misleading if I was not to make note of the fact that I am extremely squeamish when it comes to blood. Actually, it is not the blood itself that brings me to a weak state of being, it's anything from lack of circulation to gashes, neck/wrist wounds; totally freaks me out! You are confused, I know. How can I be a passionate lover of vampires, but become faint at the sight of a cut vein or the sound of a pounding heartbeat (used for background in IWTV every time someone was getting bitten, genius!) (Actually feeling a little light headed typing this now.) But I felt it important to mention, because if you ever have the experience of taking on a vampire flick with me, I might pass out here or there. Do not panic. It's normal. I think its part of the intrigue. I love a challenge. I enjoy learning to face what I fear.
Why? Why do I and so many others have this odd and quiet honestly disturbing attraction to something so evil, so taboo? I do not know. It's mysterious. It's intriguing. Its hot men battling with the monster within. I dig it. Join me on the dark side won't you?
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer the television series sucks. The Lost Boys movies suck.
more minutes in mayhem: the phantom intruder part deux.
I' Fratelli. A place Tonya and I frequent in the metro-plex. Featuring half priced wines from all over the world anytime before seven! Square pizzas, and my favorite, crème brule. Mmm. Sounds fabulous right? Even better, it's one of those restaurants with really dim lighting. They set the "mood." At seven, they turn the lights down sow low that it's emulates candlelight. Feel like drinking your favorite merlot NOT in a cocktail dress? No problem! Walk in wearing a jogging suit with yesterdays make-up, hair disheveled-like you are still in high school and you were making out with your boyfriend in the movie theater (don't pretend you don't know); Have no fear, in the mellow scenery of I' Fratelli's you will appear as a Goddess, soft light reflecting on your skin, mysterious sparkling eyes…okay so maybe it just makes that fresh new zit on your forehead and greasy hair you washed yesterday that you should have washed today less noticeable. Whatever the case, it makes you feel like you look smokin! Insecurities melted away by the ambient light! ladies, you know what I am saying here. (Note to ALL men: women like restaurants with dark lighting. Not because they are "romantic" but simply because they are dark. End note.)
However, this oh so glorious restaurant darkness is not something I so much welcome in my own home. I do enjoy a good scary movie in the dark, maybe a nice porch sitting in the candlelight with jazzy jams in the background. But I do not like leaving I' Fratelli's to walk into my home only to find my door left slightly cracked open in similar type of lighting. No, no, no, not good.
Well, that happened. Upon my room bud and I's return from ladies night at I' Fratellis, I decided I would like to engage in a few minutes of balcony sitting/star gazing. Something I do almost every night. I tug the string to my god awful, hideous, cheapest, most ridiculous, crap quality blind that the Cabochon has to offer, only to find my sliding glass door in the open position. I pause. I stare. I think. This is not how I left you. I KNOW I locked you last night. I tugged on you three times to make sure your latch caught. Now I did this obsessive compulsive tugging because this is not the first time I have found my door in this curious position. The two previous nights on my way out, I found that my door was unlocked. Didn't think anything of it because I thought, well maybe I just keep forgetting to lock it when I come back in. But no, this time I was certain. I locked it, tugged, and checked the lock again. It was an absolute.
"Tonya!" (I am yelling from my bedroom to T in the living room.) It's so annoying, I know. I do it, you do it, we all do it… "Tonya, did you go out onto the balcony from bedroom at any point last night or today?" "Nope" replies Tonya. I quickly concluded that this is probably not good. Possibilities: Either Tonya or I is sleep walking. Building vibrations? Spiritual warfare anyone? Pranksters? Or do Tonya and I in fact have us a phantom intruder? More to follow…
However, this oh so glorious restaurant darkness is not something I so much welcome in my own home. I do enjoy a good scary movie in the dark, maybe a nice porch sitting in the candlelight with jazzy jams in the background. But I do not like leaving I' Fratelli's to walk into my home only to find my door left slightly cracked open in similar type of lighting. No, no, no, not good.
Well, that happened. Upon my room bud and I's return from ladies night at I' Fratellis, I decided I would like to engage in a few minutes of balcony sitting/star gazing. Something I do almost every night. I tug the string to my god awful, hideous, cheapest, most ridiculous, crap quality blind that the Cabochon has to offer, only to find my sliding glass door in the open position. I pause. I stare. I think. This is not how I left you. I KNOW I locked you last night. I tugged on you three times to make sure your latch caught. Now I did this obsessive compulsive tugging because this is not the first time I have found my door in this curious position. The two previous nights on my way out, I found that my door was unlocked. Didn't think anything of it because I thought, well maybe I just keep forgetting to lock it when I come back in. But no, this time I was certain. I locked it, tugged, and checked the lock again. It was an absolute.
"Tonya!" (I am yelling from my bedroom to T in the living room.) It's so annoying, I know. I do it, you do it, we all do it… "Tonya, did you go out onto the balcony from bedroom at any point last night or today?" "Nope" replies Tonya. I quickly concluded that this is probably not good. Possibilities: Either Tonya or I is sleep walking. Building vibrations? Spiritual warfare anyone? Pranksters? Or do Tonya and I in fact have us a phantom intruder? More to follow…
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