Přivítat Otčina, Matthew!!!

After a drama-filled plane journey home from Prague, my friend Matthew is back in town after a year of living in the Czech Republic, arriving at 2 a.m. yesterday morning (and still had the stamina to go out with us last night)!!! Welcome Home!!!

Obligatory Whore-icane Katrina Anniversary Post...

I can hardly believe that it has been a whole year already since that whore Katrina hit (that's what I've been calling her all along, so why change now, right?), because I can remember it like it was yesterday. One year since we sat on my front porch & watched the storm start to blow in, not really knowing what to expect. One year since we lost power & sat in the kitchen at 1 a.m. w/ the generator hooked up to my t.v., only to see the newscasts & realize just how bad it really was. One year since so many lives were turned upside down & inside out. So much has happened and so much is left to do -- both as a result of Katrina & life in general. For those who experienced Katrina in any capacity, I know it is hard to forget. And forever will be...

And as always, of course, this just makes me want to cry. The animals... I'm all about the critters and their plight, in case you haven't noticed. Breaks my heart -- I wish I could adopt them all!!!

To change the subject a bit, here is a picture of two drunkards at the New Orleans Saints vs. Indianapolis Colts game in Jackson this past weekend. Hmmm, whoever could they be? [wink, wink] We were fortunate enough to be on a "party bus" of sorts, so there was no driving involved on our part (score!). But let's just say that we barely made it 30 miles out of town before someone on the bus almost got arrested for drinking in a dry county. Nice... But a fun time was had by all (except maybe the Saints, who, not surprisingly, got their asses handed to them).
... and finally, I know this is even more off-topic, but I just can't let this one pass by without giving my sympathy & respect to this woman. Just thinking about this really, really hurts me: Brazilian woman has 14-pound baby... and the Guinness Book of World Records says that there was once a 22-lb. baby born? Oh. My. Gawd.

Crash & Burn.

I've been out all week due to a family emergency. My grandfather was in a plane crash and broke his neck, back, and all kinds of other fun stuff, so we've been in Texas with family all week... I'll update more later -- good times, good times.

Social Functions = Human Butt-Sniffings

And by that, I mean that mass social events are, to me, the human version of dogs sniffing each other's asses. Small talk, bullshit, people you haven't seen in forever and really don't care that you haven't crossed paths, marriages, divorces, affairs, etc. Always good for people-watching, though. And a glimpse of what my mom refers to as my standard "picture smile". Probably not meant as the greatest compliment...

That being said, this past weekend's little fiesta gave me the opportunity to see some good friends who I haven't seen in waaaay too long -- the kind with whom you don't have to go through the b.s. "what-have-you-been-up-to-even-though-I-don't-give-a-shit" conversations. The kind who, no matter how long it's been since you last saw each other, can make it feel like no time has passed at all! Like my hi-larious friend Morgan (one of the few friends I have left who cannot carry on a discussion about breastfeeding or some other child-rearing topic from first-hand experience!) and my adorable little preggers friend Graham:
And my "little sister", Brooke, from the all-important high-school sorority (look, at the time, it was a must, okay?) who I hardly ever get to see because she's off living the high life over in Hotlanta instead of slumming it here with us:
Why am I always on the left in all of these pictures (well, the right side in the pictures, the left side in reality)? Must be my better side... ha! Oh well, while I'm on a roll with it, here is one more:
I think it's a nice touch that Jon & I look kind of drunk in the last picture. Especially since you could have built a campfire off the fumes of his breath alone. In our defense, it was the end of the night -- how poetically [and sadly?] metaphorical.

Southern-Fried Couple

This is what can happen when you put two people who were dressed for work out in the August heat for about 30-45 minutes here in Mississippi. We turn into the equivalent of wet rats (not to mention I was wearing a blazer from which I had to disrobe b/c it was just too fucking hot, only to look like I was walking around in a negligee with black pants -- a real career-making outfit). Mmmmm, can you smell us through the computer screen? Yummy.
I watched some show on the 40 Most Shocking Celebrity Mug Shots yesterday on VH1, and I think our pictures above would rival approx. 34 of the ones featured on t.v.!!! Except that we weren't drunk, high, starting fights, or playing bongos in the nude.

it's the little things... that piss me off.

The radio station that plays at work provides me with countless hours of irritation & aggravation. For example, every time they play that fucking Journey song, "Any Way You Want It" (and trust me, it's a lot), I just want to climb the walls. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard. Any way I want it, huh? How about I WANT IT TO JUST FUCKING END!!! Why do some songs have to go on forever and fucking-ever? I'm talking to you, too, "Layla". You hear me? I end up just wanting to slap someone. Hard. And not in a good way.

Rebellious Teenage Angst.

Not only do we have to struggle to keep her from chewing on any cigarrette butts she can get her talons on (trashy, I know), but Talullah has now taken to getting snippy with me whenever Jon is around. I think there is a bit of a possessive streak running through her when it comes to him, & I am the competition. Silly bird -- too young to not to let her jealousy get the best of her (& near chunks of me).

I just love this picture of my mom's chihuahua, Julio, which I captured this weekend... Whenever I coo his name to him, he gets really excited and does this goofy little sneer where it looks like he's tickled -- this picture is a classic example... Isn't he just the cutest little thing ever!? So tiny, so silly, and soooo ridiculously spoiled!!! A common theme in my family. Well, the spoiled part at least. ;)

Friday at Random.

This was my daily (Aquarius) horoscope yesterday... just found it kind of ironic, given that everyone around me has major DRAMA right now. Seriously, I think it's in the water or something.

Quickie: Putting new ideas to work is more important than completing anything right now.
{okay, so does that mean I don't have any obligation to finish a damn thing? I can just pawn my procrastination off as "brainstorming"? Rock on!}

Overview: How do you always end up in the middle of a drama when you haven't auditioned for the role? It's time to steer clear of types who always love to stir up trouble. You need a calmer and more mature set of friends.
{Amen!!! While I'm not giving up my friends, I could definitely use a whole lot less drama, that's for damn sure!!! How do "they" know? I think I'm being stalked by the writer of the Yahoo! Horoscopes...}

Last night, I was sitting outside on my porch watching my dogs torture each other (literally). Of course I looked over and saw my faithful little friend right next to me (see left). Is that the face of contentment or what? Oh, to be so carefree... Actually, he looks kind of stoned. Oh, to be so..... wait, nevermind. ;)

Some people are geniuses, I swear. I only wish I had thought of this earlier & I could be a millionaire sitting on a beach in Tahiti binge-drinking margaritas (frozen w/ extra salt, of course): Off-Road Commode. And in camoflauge, no less! Stylish! This, my friends, is bumper-peeing at its finest! I should know, I was a professional back in high school when our idea of a fun night out was to ride out in the country drinking. And this contraption, which hooks onto your trailer hitch (brilliant!), touts that it supports up to 500 lbs.!!! FIVE... HUNDRED... POUNDS... WTF!? I guess if you're 500 lbs., you pretty much need something to support your fat ass b/c -- let's take the bull by the tail & face the situation -- squatting just ain't gonna cut it. But 500 lbs.? Can you even fit in a vehicle if you weigh 500 lbs.? I'll be sure to let everyone know one of these days if I don't stop inhaling food day in & day out...

Hot Summer in the City...

While you can see that the Heat Index here is a whopping 104°F right now, I would venture to guess that the humidity, though it says 41%, is really somewhere in the vicinity of, oh, let's say 275%. Give or take a little, of course.

Ahhhh, Mississippi summers. It's the kind of hot that makes even your boobs sweat and any breeze you are lucky enough to get feels like God's blow dryer on high pointed right at you. When the heatwave hit the Northeast last week, it was almost laughable to us down South at first because it is pretty much the norm around here. Temps in the 90's!? Oh my God!!! But then I had to remember that it is all about what you are accustomed to, and I would no doubt be much more affected by the winter cold up there than locals would be. If it so much as ices here, the whole city just about shuts down, cars run off the roads into ditches, school gets canceled, complete & utter chaos ensues!!! Heaven forbid it actually snows any appreciable amount because we'd all but lose our minds!!! (In fact, when I was in 3rd grade, it did snow a good bit in April and you know what? We got an entire day of recess to play in it because it was such an abnormal occurrence!)

At least I can say that, while we are nearly melting away here, we are somewhat used to it. I just wish the statement "sweating my ass off" applied literally and it could be a wonderful all-natural diet tool.

Full of Hot Air.

On the way to work this morning, I started thinking about how utterly humiliating it would be if there were ever a tape recorder in my car. The reason? I love to belt out horrific sounds that I try to pawn off as "singing" -- and the cheesier the song, the louder & the more horrible said "singing" becomes. This morning, it was Air Supply's "Making Love (Out of Nothing at All)". Yes, I should be ashamed, I know... but at least I'm admitting it, right? Isn't that supposedly the first step to recovery? And not only did I belt it out at the top of my lungs, but I even went so far as to press the "back" button at the end of the song and do it all over again. On purpose. And, dammit, it felt good.

I don't know if it's strange or not, but that time in the car with just me, my radio, and God-knows-what music (literally) blaring is like therapeutic "me-time". To the point that I get totally pissed off if my phone rings, forcing me to actually turn the radio off and, God forbid, TALK to someone. How dare they interrupt this very important self-meditation that I'm so clearly [albeit sadly] relishing!? Of all the nerve!!! {wink, wink}

(It is important to note that my musical tastes are not limited to Air Supply or Air Supply-like music, as shown by the song that followed on my burned CD, 50 Cent's "In Da Club". But have you ever noticed, the cheesier the song, the more fun it is to sing... and to sing badly?)

Psychoanalytic Babble.

I have this recurring dream where I worry about a college class that I signed up for and forgot to attend. Just plain forgot. The end of the semester is drawing near, and all I can think about is how not having attended this class is going to wreck my GPA!!! In the dream, I have not been going AT ALL, so I try to convince myself that maybe I can just persuade the professor to believe that I dropped the class, they must have forgotten, and everything will be hunky-dory.

Well, considering the fact that I just love to psychoanalyze myself (I mean, come on, who doesn't, right?) -- especially when it comes to dreams -- I had an itching to find out why this keeps popping up in my subconscious. It's not like I have ever been prone to recurring dreams, making it all the more unusual. So... I look up the supposed symbolism for this dream and I get this:

Class: To dream that you forgot to attend a class you signed up for indicates your anxieties and fear of failing. You may also be lacking self-confidence in your ability to handle new responsibilities or projects.

Uh, yikes? That's not exactly comforting. Furthermore, it's always a photography class, which I'm sure is supposed to be some sort of connection to something in the past? I don't know... I may have to do a little more digging on this one before the innards of my soul are chewed up and spit out for everyone to see. *sigh*

Drink, Drank, Almost Drunk.

I met my parents for my dad's birthday lunch and, upon arrival, my mom announces that 3 Bloody Marys are on their way -- woo-hoo!!! Well, little did I know just how lovingly generous they would be with their vodka for a lunchtime drink (not that I'm complaining -- you will never hear me complain about anyone bringing me a drink that is too strong!)... Short story long, I came back to work and suddenly I was totally chatty and giggly and, nay, a bit tipsy! It was lovely. Thank you, unnamed restaurant, for your nice, stiff, spicy, olive-infested Bloody Mary. And for the 2 that I had to finish off for my parents as well.

Note: This is all quite appropos considering that, when I took the Blogthings quiz titled, "What Mixed Drink Are You?", I was a Bloody Mary.

[It kinda brought me back to the good ol' days of my first job out of college when a co-worker and I would go to a local brewery restaurant in Memphis and drink beer for lunch. Work was always a lot more amusing on those afternoons... Half-drunk at work. I just consider that a headstart...]