Graduation

Congratulations to Kelly Belly, who graduated second in her class on Friday. I was lucky enough to be able to attend and hear her speech. Next up for her is the University of Texas in Austin, my alma mater.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Or...Why I am the queen of public transportation.

Keep in mind that this route was accomplished with two suitcases. This is how I arrived at my home in Newark from my family's home in Nacogdoches today:

1. Drive from Nacogdoches to Houston with Patrick.
2. Fly from IAH to LGA (all of the flights to Newark were oversold by more than fifty).
3. Take the M60 bus from LaGuardia to 125th St.
4. Take the 2 red line subway to New York Penn Station.
5. Take the 1:37 am NJ Transit train from New York Penn Station to Newark Penn Station.
6. Taxi cab ride home, only to discover that because I turned off the air conditioning prior to leaving town on Thursday, the apartment is now a sweltering 85 degrees.

Land of a Thousand Lakes

I returned recently from visiting my dear friends Brett and Ameara in Minneapolis. The last time I had seen them since we all graduated from UT was at their wedding on December 30. Ameara and I spent lots of quality time together shopping, getting haircuts, and just being together. We went to the U (what the natives call the University of Minnesota) and saw its art museum and then later went to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, home of Spoonbridge and Cherry.

Ameara and I went to see Brett in a cycling race at the National Sports Center in Blaine. That this velodrome was in Blaine got me all excited, Waiting for Guffman-style. The Blaine in Waiting for Guffman is in Missouri, but I feel that they are sister cities on some level. "There's a saying, if you don't like the weather just wait five minutes. In Blaine, with hard work, I think we can get that down to three or four minutes."

Mi Familia

This is my parents, nephew, and myself. I would be remiss if I did not also note my sister Shannon's hand. This picture is Clark about an hour after he was born. It was quite providential that I was able to be present when he was born as I scheduled my trip to Texas a week after his due date. I can only assume that he was waiting for me. After this picture, I saw him the next week, but haven't been back to Texas since. What this means is that he will have doubled in size and that I will burst into tears upon seeing him and seeing how much that I have missed. This scenario will almost certainly take place.

Calling you with a joke

I always look for a woman who has a tattoo. I see a woman with a tattoo, and I'm thinking, okay, here's a gal who's capable of making a decision she'll regret in the future.
(Richard Jeni)

Toilet Paper

“I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting.” Encouragingly, she continues: “I think we are an industrious enough people that we can make it work with only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required.”

This is a recent quote from Sheryl Crow, which she claims was a joke (I am dubious as I fervently believe that a joke requires an element of humor). It did, however, make me nostalgic for a former roommate who uses more toilet paper than anyone I ever met before. It also reminded me of my recent environmentalist roommate who exclusively used organic soaps, household cleaners, makeup, and food products and bought Seventh Generation recycled toilet paper. As soon as she moved, I went to the grocery store to buy paper towels (shameful) and two-ply soft toilet paper (deplorable).

"Read in order to live." Gustav Flaubert

My dear sister Shannon invited me to a website called GoodReads. www.goodreads.com lets you set up a profile and rate books you've read and see your friends' ratings. An excellent find on her part, particularly for those of you who read books for bragging rights and so that you can complain about movies, "The book was better." Along those same name-dropping lines, I hope that someone appreciates my rather pompous quote that I selected for this posting.

www.online-literature.com features many full-length classics without (a big plus for me) any of those pesky late fines libraries are so fond of levying.

Brigid Bales pose, circa 1994

Luckily, the chiropractor was able to straighten out that kink in her neck.

My surrogate boyfriend Patrick is in the city tonight. Good times.

Spoiled, continued.

Tonight I saw a homeless man dip a rag in soapy water runoff from the maintenance crew's sidewalk power-washing. He then took off his hat and washed his hair, face, and hands with the rag, grimly reminding me of one of T. Sean's jokes (I saw a man digging in the dumpster and you just hate to see things like that. So I closed the lid.). The stark contrast between the way this man lives and my own pampered existence underscored how lucky I am and forced me to consider how many people live this way, in the United States and abroad, by accident of birth or otherwise.

New slur

Guido- A sad pathetic excuse for a male of Italian descent; usually native to the NY/NJ Tri-State area. I gleaned this word from a driver's expletive-laced road rage. Two Jersey residents explained that guidos are 'the worst people on earth'. As I am always a sucker for a new stereotype, I consulted others. Stephen on guidos: "They are the most homogeneous group I've ever seen." My mother: "That Italian subculture is something else."

WARDROBE: tight zipper shirts, tracksuits, designer jeans, tiny hoop earrings, fake gold chains, and related Euro-trash garb and tacky cheese-wear.
NATURAL HABITAT: Known to frequent malls looking for club gear. During the day when not at their food delivery, telemarketing, or construction job, guidos can be located at their local gym or tanning. Can be found nightly at dance clubs. Most notable for cruising the Jersey shore (techno booming) in an old car which has been tinted and painted and sports rims.

Spoiled.

Once your dinner arrives, exactly how bad is it when you catch yourself thinking, "Why does everyone seem to overcook lobster!?" At any rate, the crab stuffing my lobster was tender and succulent.

I almost forgot the most ridiculous song from the most ridiculous musical (Camelot), ushering each of us into May:
The lusty month of May!
That darling month when ev'ryone throws
Self-control away.
It's time to do
A wretched thing or two,
And try to make each precious day
One you'll always rue!
It's May! It's May!
The month of "yes you may,"
The time for ev'ry frivolous whim,
Proper or "im."
It's wild! It's gay!
A blot in ev'ry way.
The lusty month of May.
A libelous display!