An Update for Alove

Hi Love,

This post is for you. I have not updated in a week because I have been sick. Then, I thought I was better until I tried to play ultimate yesterday and as soon as I started running hard, I was unable to breath, and could not really move for a good half hour. It was actually really scary for about 5 minutes and I thought I was going to need to go to the hospital. Boo. I did still manage to visit the island though this weekend and kept enough medicine in me to stay well enough to get into some fun hijinks. I miss you. I want you to come visit so we can be HFLs together and make obscene pictures with grilled cheese sandwiches and give them to MIMs, followed up by some crayon throwing at VI in protest to no longer serving poppers. We can also scream "good day" and run away from D-bags who try to dance with us at the clubs. You should come for St. Patrick's Day. Dille will be here, and we can call her flat together. And maybe Steve will drive us around and we can shout out numbers when he tries to make phone calls so he will curse at us. ;) Here is a picture to remind you of all the fun you have when you come play with your Tulsa ballers:

WAFG! Let the pandemonium begin!

MBL to my #1 HFL,

A Train

You can't just go out for A drink on Fat Tuesday

Especially when you go to a New Orleans-themed restaurant that only goes all out once a year. It was a good Fat Tuesday from the get go. Almost immediately after walking into previously mentioned restaurant, a waitress came up and informed me that somebody had offered to buy my friend and me a drink. Score! It turned out to be an old friend from college and not some dreamy, hunky stranger who had fallen in love with me at first sight, but old friends are probably just as good as hot mystery men, if not better (unless the stranger owns an island). I knew at that point that the idea of going out for a drink had become just that, an idea.

We sat at a booth and were enjoying some calamari and the jazz band when the owner of the restaurant came up to us and told us that he'd give us free shots if we danced on the bar. Since, I'm usually willing to dance on bars for free (but only in classy situations - wouldn't want to be one of those girls), there was no decision to be made. We hopped up and danced while the bartender poured Southern Comfort down our throats and partly up our noses. That's when I noticed the establishment's employees were by far the most drunk people in the place. Our waiter proved this theory when the time came to pay our bill. We were only charged for two drinks and our calamari, but didn't think much of it since we had been given free booze all night. We gave the guy cash and close to a 100% tip. Ten minutes later he came back (with shots we didn't order) and asked us if we had paid yet. We reminded him that we had, in fact, just done so. He said he couldn't remember, but would trust us on it. Right after, the owner started dancing around on a booth swinging beads around and rubbing them all over his body. We decided then that it was time to go for fear of what kind of a mad house the place was about to turn into. This led us to dancing. There are quite a few places in Tulsa that play really hot tracks on every Tuesday night (not just the fat one), if you're willing to go out for a drink.

And, my boobs remained covered all night long.

I also spoke to "me mate" back in England yesterday. When I asked him if he was going to go out for Mardi Gras, he said, "you mean pancake day?" Wha....? Apparently in the United Kingdom, they party the day before Lent starts by eating pancakes. Now, you tell me which holiday is better:

Pancake Day


vs.

Mardi Gras


I've also decided to give up cookies for Lent, so don't offer me any. Depending on my mood, I might take them, crumble them up, and throw them in your face for tempting me so.

Well hello, Tibialis Anterior

The tibialis anterior is the muscle on the front part of our lower legs, and the source of about 65% of the pain I am experiencing when I walk. But not to be completely outdone, the other 35% of my body is hurting a fair amount too. I played my first ultimate frisbee tournament this past weekend in Baton Rouge, and I feel like what I imagine someone who is sore from getting hit by a car might feel. My body is definitely used to running, but not the fast little sprints and cuts made in ultimate. And though I've been playing for a couple months now, I definitely wasn't used to playing four games in a row, which has most definitely led to the hinderance in my walking ability today. Yet, on a good note, I loved every second of the tournament. I picked up with a North Texas team, Envy, and we had a good time. The first day, we went 2 and 2, and then lost our first game the next day and were done. We might have been able to do better, but I don't think we could have had any more fun. The North Texas girls are a good group.

There was a party Saturday night which had a nice spread and an awesome blues band, who was a bit shocked to find people dancing to their music. They probably should move to Arkansas or Tulsa, where they'll be better appreciated.

Roasted pig:

I think Lizzie and I won overall. I'm not quite sure what we won, but we did:

Joel definitely did not win though. He got hit in the eye and the throat with a disc:

Hey! There's a lemur on your shoulder!

I already got a Valentine, a pretty bouquet...thanks, Mom

Happy Valentine's Day/Single Awareness Day!

For the third year now, Kristy and I have made valentines for our friends. This process involves us dressing up a bit ridiculously and taking silly pictures of ourselves to use in the cards, which are a coveted, hot commodity. (You know you've made it big time VIP when you get on our Valentine's Day card list.) So, here is Kristy and myself (and baby Addyson) wishing you a very happy Valentine's Day, or a very happy Single Awareness Day. I think there is cause to celebrate both. Ha.


Valentine, you are Beary special!


Dreaming of you always!


I can't BEAR to be without you!


I'd give my right leg to be your Valentine!

Ahahahaha...we crack ourselves up! Hope you all have a good day and don't eat too much chocolate.

Uh, yeah

Sometimes, I'm completely baffled by the fact that I'm still single (in case you all didn't know, I'm a catch - haha), but then there are the other times when I'm not surprised at all. I give you fun times at Village Inn.

Pancake Shot:


Eye Trick:


And, I hadn't even been drinking (which is good because I probably would have stabbed myself in the eyeball with a fork if I had).

I Miss You Already/Shmu Cru is Expanding Nationally

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same."

"Your friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you."



If you know me well, you know that my friends are my world. And now, most of them are scattered across it. I've had to say goodbye to a multitude of very special and important people over the years, and though I've grown accustomed to it, it still doesn't hurt any less every time it happens, and it doesn't keep me from crying myself to sleep after I see you for what is going to be too long of a time. I know it's not "goodbye", and it is much easier to keep in touch with today's technology, but still, if I had my way, all my friends and family would live within a 2-4 hour car drive. (I don't care if I have free places to stay almost anywhere on the globe I want to visit.)

So, Gabby and Kayla, I say, "see you later," with tears in my eyes. Tears of sadness because I will miss you terribly, like a struggling single mother misses a second income (and I will have to find someone new to take care of Shmapril); tears of happiness because I know that this move is going to bring good things for you. I hope you have an inkling of how much you mean to me.

And to all my other friends that I don't get to see as much as I would like (everyday), you are always in my thoughts and more importantly, in my heart. I hope you have an inkling of how much you mean to me. I would have written an entry for you when we parted, but it happened too long ago. Love, love, love, mush, mush, cheeseball, love to you all.


"A circle's round
it has no end.
That's how long I want to be your friend!"

Something Kind of Funny From Last Night

I went out dancing last night. It's one of my favorite things to do. While on the dance floor with two other lovely and rather hot ladies, a random guy walks by, puts a $20 in my friend's hand, and tells her to go buy us three drinks. You'd think he was trying to be suave and pick her up, but he didn't even stay long enough for us to thank him. I couldn't have even pointed him out to you after. It was a drive by twenty-ing, or something. We weren't, however, drinking, and even if we had been, it was ladies night, so we could get free beer anyway. So, how to spend $20 earned by shaking our money makers like somebody's 'bout to pay us? Go to Taco Bell and order $20.50 worth of food, but only eat about $10 worth.

Also, did you know that rap music is apparently black music? I was dancing to some dance or "techno" last night with a guy who stopped dancing with me and said, "I'm gonna wait 'til they start playing some black music and then I'm gonna come back and freak that ass." He pronounced "freak" James Brown style. I did not dance with him again. I only like white music (not really).

Today, my feet hurt, but it's a good hurt. Unlike the Scissor Sisters, I always feel like dancing.

Please Tell Me They're Kidding

Last night, I watched the American Idol tryouts for the first time, and I just really hope these people aren't as disillusioned as they appear. I really hope Fox pays these people to walk in thinking they are the bee's knees and give the most ridiculous, awful performances, and then act shocked when they get cut down by the judges. I mean, seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?!?



One of my biggest fears about the latest generation is how much we overestimate ourselves and how vain we have become. It's called humility ladies and gentlemen, and it seems those who have it don't need it, and those who don't, need to go drown themselves in it. One guy last night walked into the judges' room and just walked around slowly removing articles of clothing and meowing, calling himself a panther, for a good few minutes before even breaking into a song that made me want to jab pencils in my ears. And it appeared he truly believed he was going to be the next Justin Timberlake. Come on, people. There are only a select few who can get away with meowing at others. I know I am God's gift to this earth, but I also know I wasn't placed here to sing (because I would do so in a heartbeat if I had the ability), nor do I expect others to realize it...

yet.

Meow. (Wink)


Also, I am convinced that Fox must pay or at least mis-encourage these people, because the auditions make for some hilarious television, even if it hurts the soul to watch. And I bet the show gets even better when it's narrowed down to the realistic people with talent.

Finally, though completely unrelated, congratulations to me. I have health insurance, effective today.