Here Comes the Bride!

Kira and I at her Bridal Shower

24

Well, today was Joey's 3rd birthday party and I missed it because I had to work. Crummy. But my mom and dad went and said everything was nice and that Joey got a lot of clothes, which he didn't find particularly exciting in comparison to the toy chainsaw he got from one of his aunties. Hmmm, toy chainsaw? Or new sweatshirt? Yeah, I'd probably pick the chainsaw too!

But speaking of birthdays, mine is coming up! To celebrate I am going to go to Four Green Fields, which is on Woodward just south of 13 Mile Rd. in Royal Oak. Saturday the 27th, around 8 o'clock or so. Come and share the big 24 with me! I think my parents are coming (crazy, who knew I would one day be going to the bar with my mom & dad?!) and I'd love to see you crazy cats who read this that I haven't seen in forever. So, check out the pic from my very first b-day ever, and then come check out the chick on #24. No gifts necessary, I just want to see your booties there -- they have good beer, good food, and good music.

Workin' It

Man, I just realized today that I will not have a day off of work until August 19th. That is eleven consecutive days of Comcast. How shitty can you get? I am working 14 hours of OT this week and I've only completed 6 so far -- already I want to run my headset over with my piece-o-crap car that is *still* busted. Speaking of my bucket ride, Shaun is saving my ass this week and I cannot thank him enough. Aside from letting me borrow his car EVERY DAY, he's letting me crash at his house, eat his food, and keep him awake by pestering him for kisses when he really needs to be sleeping. I kept trying to give him gas money and of course he kept refusing it, until today, when I snuck his car to the gas station and filled up his tank for him. If he's not careful, I'll do it again. (This is not an idle threat!!)

Talking to Nik tonight I realized how much I am really, really going to miss her when she moves to D.C. (I mean, I knew from the get-go that I'd miss her, but tonight I was thinking, Man, I am going to MISS her.) I am so excited for her, but the selfish side of me wants my friend to stay close so I can still have my favorite shopping partner and co-concert goer within driving distance. Plus without Nik here ALL of my best gal friends will be far away. I am going to have to bust out the little black book and dig out some chicks from the past to avoid turning into a pathetic homebody with no life. No life and ten cats. And a fondness for knitting and eating ice cream straight from the carton.... Eeek!

It's hard for me to feel sometimes like I'm not getting left behind. I always felt like I would do big things with my life, with my brain, with all those freaking A's I got in school, and it seems that all of my friends are packing it up and moving it on and I feel stuck here, chained to my freaking headset, never to escape the crushing weight that are my student loans. Whenever I start to think like this I try to imagine a miniature version of my mom standing on my shoulder; with her hair down and her glasses on and a smile on her face she says, "Maria, you're almost there! Just keep going, a little further and it's all going to get better! Just have some faith, I've been talking to Jude and Joseph, they're on the case!" And then I smile because my mom's always been my best cheerleader. And I know she always will be. Even though I still say that Echinacea is for shit and always will be, give me my Vitamin C and a multi-vitamin any day over that malarky.

Anyhoo, I think that's enough random babbling for today to satisfy you crazy kids who read this thing. (Don't front, you know you check it 5 times a day! Ha ha!) I'll post some pics soon. Joey turns THREE tomorrow (well, today actually I suppose, it's already the 11th) and his party is on Sunday. I'm sure he'll be all pimped out, lookin' like somethin' out of a Baby Gap ad (thanks to his Auntie Maria!).

Fiesta Weekend

So this weekend was a weekend of parties -- and of my car breaking down. Again. On Saturday Shaun brought me to his family reunion in New Baltimore and I got to meet a huge part of his extended family. His mom has 13 brothers and sisters, so I was very happy to see that people were wearing nametags! The weather was beautiful and the park was right on Anchor Bay. We ate lots of good food, played catch (well, I caught, Shaun mostly ended up running after the ball because somehow I've forgotten how to throw), I painted kids' faces, and of course we drank.

Saturday night I ended up having to drive Shaun's car home because mine was smoking from under the hood -- never a good sign. Turns out it's my radiator, again, so Dad is going to try to fix it or he'll just end up replacing it for me this weekend. I will be SO happy when Labor Day has come and gone so that I can afford some new(er) wheels!!

Sunday was Kira's Bridal Shower and everything went beautifully. Holy crap did she get a lot of stuff! We took it easy on the Bridal Shower games (yuck!) and just did two, that actually turned out to be pretty fun! Her little sis and I are right in the middle of planning the bachelorette festivities and I am currently awaiting confirmation on the, um, entertainment. Hahahaha! There will be more pics up soon!

Man of the Hour

tidal waves don't beg forgiveness
crash, then on their way
father, he enjoyed collisions
others walked away
the snowflake falls in may
and the doors are open now
as the bells are ringing out
cuz the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
goodbye for now
nature has its own religion
gospel from the land
father ruled by long division
young men, they pretend
old men comprehend
and the sky breaks at dawn
shedding light upon this town
we all come 'round
cuz the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
goodbye for now
and the road, the old men paved
the broken seams along the way
the rusted signs, they're just for me
he was guiding me, love, his own way
now the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
as the curtain comes down
i feel that this is just
goodbye for now

words and music by Pearl Jam
from the movie "Big Fish"

Pavement

Tonight while driving home from work I had a flashback to all the nights I spent driving South on Telegraph towards I-96 to head back to Ann Arbor after having been in Southfield for some reason -- whether it was visiting a boy, or visiting Nik, or visiting my mom & dad (and of course, stealing food and doing laundry with my mom's detergent). I started to think about the stretches of highway a person becomes familiar with throughout their life, and how you drive down certain roads with more frequency at certain times in your life than at others. When you have one job you go one way every day, and then you get a new job and have a whole new route to learn. But if you've driven somewhere enough times in your life, you'll always be able to close your eyes and picture turning the corner, or pulling into the driveway, or walking up the steps towards your front door. I think that no matter how much my street changes, whether they widen it or add sidewalks; no matter how my mom alters the gardens in the front yard or the color or siding on our house; I think I will always be able to come home to this house in my head, since I've lived here since I was just three years old. That's a long time to live somewhere....

Anyway, enough of that random BS. I've moved my blog to a different website, it'll be at http://www.riawilliams.com from 8/3/2005 on forward. Shaun bought the other domain for me, and when he attempted to transfer ownership to me the shit got all jacked up. So I just bought a new one, and it'll be there forever, barring total world destruction, or my credit card being turned down. Kidding! Tomorrow I get to have my teeth cleaned by my mama in the morning, and then I am having lunch with Katie to discuss the details of Kira's bachelorette fiesta at 1 o'clock. Got any sinfully good ideas?? Do tell!

Crazy 8's

So, 8 has always been a lucky number for me. Actually, I have no idea if that has any basis whatsoever in reality; what I should say is that I have always fancied the idea that 8 might be a lucky number for me, since there are so many of them in my birthday. 8-28-81, born at 8:08 am, in room something-oh-eight. Today, a miracle occurred. I fit my booty into a size 8 pair of jeans. And comfortably too. I had a 10 on, and consulted Nik on the size, and she said, "Dude, they're too big." The natural skeptic in me emerged, "They can't be too big, they're a ten." To which Nik sighed in mild frustration, (you know the kind of sigh you get from a friend when you are complaining about how you are too fat/thin/tall/short/stupid/ugly, or have weird feet/bad hair/weak nails/[ ] -- it was that sigh) and then she disappeared from the fitting rooms only to return toting two pairs of size 8 jeans in her arms.

Unfolding them with immense doubt, I was fully expecting not to be able to fit them over my thighs, because, being the deliciously curvy gal that I have always been, I often have trouble with jeans in that area. Yet they met the thighs and kept on going, at which point I fully expected to be unable to zip them up. Somehow they zipped up no problem, and there I stood in the first pair of size 8 pants I've been able to get into since I was 19. That's almost 5 years people. I had to try the second pair just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, and those fit too. And then I got to buy a $58 pair of jeans for $20 because I work at the Gap. And to think I've been thinking of quitting. All told, not a bad way to end a rough week.

Although I will say that in spite of my alternate rage and sadness, I am a person who believes in second chances when asked for. And when a boy I love apologizes and says, "Will you be my girl again?" by a campfire that lights up his blue eyes like none I have ever seen, it's impossible for me to say no. So I said yes, and maybe you're thinking I'm silly for risking my heart again, but life is about risks, especially if it's a risk you take in order to try to get something amazing. Plus, who the hell does he think he's messing with anyways? I am from Southfield. He knows I will key his car and slash all four of his tires if he breaks my heart again. (So, so, so kidding on that one!) And then my Daddy threw in a death threat, just for posterity. (Still kidding, but not quite as much....) Ha ha ha!

Dear Alyssa

Oh my dear sweet Alyssa. I just walked in from work to discover your letter on my bed and I didn't waste a moment in opening it up. (I especially enjoyed the stickers from Wizzywig on the front as well; remember when we went with your dad that one day? You guys picked me up after my last class of college and we all went to dinner. That was fun.) But anyhow, since you mentioned being such an avid reader of my blog I thought I'd give you your own entry. Complete with photos. I even considered taking one of my bizarre feet for you, but could not locate my digital camera. Alas, that photo will be for another day. Another day when I have had more time to give myself a pedicure first!

I was shocked (to put it mildly) to read that Nicholas, world's youngest flirt, is three whole years old already. My nephew will turn three on August 11th, and he is *such* a troublemaker. I think I will always remember that look that Nicholas threw me when we were all standing in the kitchen at 1201 after graduation, it was such a knowing look for a child that small to give. Remember how hard we all laughed?

Talking with you the other night helped me feel so, so, SO much better. I feel ashamed that so much time passed between us without a word from me. I am going to try very hard to prevent that from happening again. I cannot tell you how many times I have been bummed or pissed or confused or worried and thought, "I miss the 1201 kitchen." The kitchen that you found and said to Bec and I, "So I found this house, and the kitchen is amazing...." The talking and the snacking on various baked goods somehow always made all of us feel better I think. No matter which of us was frustrated about whichever boy, or stressed out about whatever class, the kitchen was always there for us when we needed it! (Which is more than I can say for boys, especially lately, and that is the God's honest truth!)

Anyway my dear. Know that I think about you and miss you often. I have so many pictures on my walls of all my far off friends, it helps me feel closer to you guys. And I will absolutely plan to visit you soon, even if it's just for a weekend. I think it would do us both good.

Out of the Woodwork

So I am sitting here somewhat amazed at how incredibly lucky I am to have my wonderful friends and family. I had no idea that so many of them read this, and I am honored and flattered and taken aback at all of the emails and phone calls I've gotten today. I talked to Steph and Brian for like an hour and a half, Lys for an hour and a half. Why do you bastards all have to live so freaking far away?!

Today was a day to gain perspective, and it feels good to have it back. Thanks for coming out of the woodwork everyone. I love love love you all to the stars and back.

And to quote my dear friend Brian, a HAW to the end, "now it's time to party my tits off". Whatever that means... you stupid brrrriiitchh! Hahahaha....
I had to dig out some pictures, because I realized that my blog was becoming somewhat picture-less. My and the girls at the beach (Nik, we are so there on Saturday!!). Aubs and me in Cape Cod -- remember the galaxy in the ocean Aubrey? I will never forget that. And at MSU for the world-record setting Cold War game, with Dustin and Fadi and Brantley too.

All in all I'd have to say that I am done feeling sorry for myself. Life is too short. I have so much love in my life, from so many directions, and it's all good in the hood. Thanks you guys. You're my homies!

Southern Discomfort

So I should have known that doing shots of Southern Comfort with Matt on his couch last night would only lead to a bad place. It’s just that he said, “Beer? Or Southern Comfort?” and I thought, Mmmmm, Southern Comfort. And from there I ended up bawling. Matt, in his infinite and somewhat intimidating wisdom pointed out the obvious key point that I’ve been ignoring for months now: “Maria, he’s still in love with her.” Maybe not entirely in love, but there’s wreckage that still has to be cleared. And until it has been washed away in the natural course of life and living, there is nothing that I – or even he – can do about it. So I cried, and Matt hugged me, and let me borrow one of his pillows when I became too drunk to drive myself home. It smelled clean and good, like the man himself. This morning before I left, when I was half awake and half asleep, I think I murmured, “It’s going to be OK… right?” And he said, “Yes. It is.” And put his arms around me to let me feel my sadness with the strength of a good friend behind it. Ten minutes later I asked for some Motrin.

Two hours later I found myself crouching in my shower, awaiting the purge. I could feel it coming, thinking to myself, “Amazing how your body protects you by hurling that purposely ingested poison right out of your system.” And it came and went, and came and went again. Tripping out of the shower in my attempt to reach the toilet I managed to add injury to my already burning insult. Perfect, total humiliation in the face of emotional catastrophe? Achieved.

Lying on my bed in my towels, the dampness from my hair saturating my quilt, I couldn’t help but wonder how the hell I got myself into all this. And how ridiculous it is that I am this unglued. It’s not anyone’s fault that he doesn’t love me. It’s not my fault, it’s not her fault, and it’s definitely not his fault. It just is. Perhaps that is part of why it’s awful; being a person who likes to place blame where it belongs, I find myself unable to determine the legitimate culprit, and so it unfairly falls to him. Although he did lie to me, for weeks, but that was only ever a bi-product of him lying to himself. Hopefully I will get beyond that, and he will forgive me for the daggers I’ve been throwing him from my eyes, and the shortness and contempt I’ve been unable to suppress in my voice. Maybe then we will be able to behave toward one another with some semblance of the friendship that was underneath all of this. If we’re lucky I guess, maybe we’ll get to have that….

The Scientist

So tonight I stood in the rain while a man that I am in love with told me that he doesn't love me, and isn't sure if he ever will, so goodbye, and I'm sorry. Somehow the apology does not make anything better. I suppose I should have seen this coming. There have been signs, which I very conveniently ignored because it was too painful to put them together, but they were there, bright and obvious as the sun itself, and now I feel as if I have been burned and beaten and torn to pieces and it is noone's fault but my own.

I wonder to myself if I had this coming; cosmic revenge for recently having broken another person's heart who couldn't have deserved it less. I think of how the next time I try to love someone it will begin with fear and apprehension, and therefore likely end in a fiery demise of unreciprocated passion and thoughts of what might have been if only I'd been able to trust. To take a chance. To risk that all important first step into the uncharted territory that is new love. My heart feels like it has been tossed into the garbage, smashed and crushed into a miniature block that will decompose over time.

I titled this entry after a Coldplay song that I love. A song that I can only wish he might hear tomorrow, or a week from tomorrow, or a month from tomorrow, and then think, That is how I feel about her. And then he will drive his car to me, wherever I am, and say all the things he should have said tonight. He'll say all the things he should have said instead of goodbye, and I'm letting you go, and I don't love you.

But I know the likelihood of that is slim. And I try to comfort myself by saying that anyone who could let me go, doesn't really deserve me in the first place.

And yet the tears seem as though they will never stop....

by Coldplay

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start
I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start

Enraged

Have you ever woken up after a particularly shitty night and thought, "Great, now I have to get up and do things today." When I opened my eyes this morning it was pouring rain, thundering like hell, and that is exactly what I thought. Just perfect. Somehow appropriate.

I am so pissed off and hurt that I can't even explain why. I'll just say that I feel like I am being made a fool of, I feel like I'm being played, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. I just have to sit here and get jerked around. Which fucking sucks.

And now I get to go to work. Fantastic. Hope this day is not going to be as shitty for everyone as mine promises to be.

Poo Chicken...and Entourage

So on Saturday Shaun and I went to see "Wedding Crashers" -- hilarious! After the movie we went over to BW3's for some lunch, I ordered some chicken tenders and fries, he ordered a tender wrapper. So far, this sounds like nothing out of the ordinary, but I haven't told you yet that when my tenders arrived, they smelled strongly of poo. I would say they smelled like shit, but that could just mean that they smelled bad. That is not what I mean. They actually smelled like human poo. At first I thought, "It must be coming from the bathroom," because all logic and reason tells us that chicken cannot smell like poo, and we happened to be seated rather near the restrooms. I started eating -- attempting to disguise the smell with BBQ sauce, blue cheese, and ranch dressing -- and made it about halfway through my tender before I just had to have Shaun's opinion to make sure I wasn't crazy. So, after consulting his nostrils, he agreed that there was something not quite right about the odor, and he also pointed out that the tenders were, in fact, burnt. But to that I said, "Burnt chicken does not smell like poop. I've burnt chicken before, I know what it smells like, this is odd."

So we were sitting there, eyebrows raised, looks of incredulity on our faces, each silently contemplating the various and sundry ways human poop could have come in contact with the chicken during its many stages of preparation, when an unsuspecting waitress walked by and asked, "Is everything alright?" What to say? Shaun put it as delicately as possible: "Um, well -- her chicken has a strange smell, like a smell that would come from someone's backside." Oh, the decorum. The waitress picked up my basket of tenders, and after smelling them for herself she said, "Well, they're definitely burnt, would you like us to remake the order?" To which I politely declined and said I was cool with just my fries. When the waitress brought our check there was a $10 gift certificate included, so the next time we go to BW3's we can order some more poo smeared tenders! What can you do, perhaps it was just a freak coincidence -- or perhaps there was human feces on my food? (That, by the way, is a thought that will keep you up nights wondering if at any moment you are about to earl your brains out from the worst food poisoning you've ever had.) I suppose I will never know. But you know what they say, shit happens, I just wasn't expecting it to happen on my naked tenders.

On a more positive note I got to watch the new episode of Entourage tonight. (If you don't have HBO, this show is a reason to get it. It's awesome, Shaun got me hooked!) Tonight while watching it I thought to myself, "Wow, it's like a male version of Sex & the City; 4 guys, their fantasy lives, lots of fame, money, and hot chicks." Throw in some cool cameos (Val Kilmer's was the best), great writing, and just funny situations and you've got another great HBO original series. Now if we can just get on with the final season of The Sopranos, all will be right with the world.

Harold!

Harold, I took it as a serious challenge that you did not think I had enough pictures of you to create a collage. Lo and behold! I certainly managed to find 9 that would do you justice. Now, in return for this humble tribute, I would love love love it if, from now on, you post as your lovely self instead of "anonymous" when commenting on my blog. You are so much more than "anonymous" my dear sir, so act like it! ;)

An ode to Harold


For all those who do not know Harold, just know that he is a dear, sweet boy, who has experimented with hairstyles inspired by the Marines (bottom left), all the way to the Beatles (top center); and that he is a lover of music (right center), the ladies (top left, bottom right), and impersonating Macho Man Randy Savage (not shown).

Crying My Eyes Out...

Over a Harry Potter book. Oi. I just finished the newest installment in J.K. Rowling's uber popular Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and I am not ashamed to admit that I flat out sobbed through the last seventy pages. It's a damn good thing she's only got one book left to go, because I just can't handle her killing off all my favorite characters. First Sirius, now... well I suppose I probably shouldn't spoil it, just consider yourselves warned: Kleenex will be necessary. I had a hunch that one of Harry's best friends (Ron & Hermione) might die in the last book, but I never would have guessed this. *Sigh* See, that's the mark of a good writer, even when you think you know what's coming, you don't.

A little while ago I was trying to remember both the last book (other than this one), and the first book that ever made me cry. The last before this one was Cold Mountain, and the first ever was Where The Red Fern Grows. It amazes me that I can still remember sitting in my bedroom, at age 9, with my little unicorn lamp glowing on my bedside table, turning the pages of the book and crying. At some point my mom came into my room and asked me if I was OK, and I said, "Yeah (sob), I'm just reading!" And I think she must have smiled, being an avid reader herself, she knows what it's like.

I keep trying to get her to read the Harry Potter books, because although some consider them to be children's books, they are truly fantastic. She told me today that when she finishes her current novel, she's going to start at Year 1. She said, "You know what changed my mind about them? I heard that the Catholic church doesn't like them, and in my experience as a Catholic, if the church doesn't like it, that must mean there's something sinfully great about it!" I may have misquoted her a bit there, but you get the gist.

Anyway, back to my couch for more of my ongoing recovery from strep. I'm feeling almost totally like myself again, just a bit more tired and prone to headaches. Tomorrow Shaun and I are going to an early movie and lunch before he has to go to work.

By Request

For Steph

Strep Can Kiss My A**!

How is it possible that I am sick AGAIN?? If I find the germ infested weasel that gave me strep throat in the middle of July I will do bad, bad things to them. My doc looked at my tonsils this morning and said, "Yeah, those are pretty bad." A freaking doctor!! He sees this crap all the time. *Sigh* At least my fever is gone. For now. (Knock on wood! ...No seriously, knock on some wood right now!) I thought that I was just feeling crappy when I came home from work on Sunday because I only got about 3 hours of ZZZ's the night before -- but no, apparently it's because I was about to come down with strep throat. So, crazy thanks and appreciation to Nik, who drove my ass home from work on Sunday night, and also my baby Shaun, who got up early to drive my ass out to my doctor's office in Novi before having to go into work today. And of course I cannot forget my mom and dad, who always express crazy concern and take care of me when I'm sick. It's good to have the love that I have in my life. So far Boomer (my doctor) says no way on the tonsilectomy (!), but if I get sick once more in the next couple months, it's off to the ear-nose-and-throat-guy I go!

On today's agenda: some catch up emailing, some channel surfing, and A LOT of Harry Potter reading action. Oh man, I think I'm gonna start right now!!

First, I gotta do a collage for Steph though, since she was like, "Hey!! Where are the pics of ME??!!" Haha, love you Steph!

Shaun Is...

Mr. Incredible!

Snapshots

From old photo albums


A few days ago I talked to my friend Leah (click on the link at the right to see her blog) on AIM and I started thinking about high school. I dug out some of my photo albums and these are some of the pictures that I found in my Senior Book (holy crap!) and other albums.

From the top left: Me at Bay Beach in Green Bay, WI, probably around age 5? Granny, Jesse as a baby, and me, 1985 or 86. Me and Kid Bro, 1985ish. Me with daffodils (?) in Kentucky on Uncle Ellis' farm, I think I must have been about 8, so it was probably '89. Me, Mom, and Jesse at Jacques and Stefanie's wedding in Green Bay, summer of 1997. Howard, me and Jesse, before Homecoming sophomore year, October 1996. The Lady Blue Jays softball team after our last game, June 1999. Roscoe, the Supercat, Christmas 1995. Nik, me and Kira, at the Hazel Park ice arena, Winter of freshman year of college. (Mom, help me out on the years if I'm wrong on these!)

Going through my senior book was weird too. I had movie ticket stubs from "Star Wars: Episode 1" and "The Matrix," and gas was only$1.09 a gallon (those were the days!). I listed some group called, "Five," as a popular music group at the time and I have no idea who they are!! (Shaun can you help me out with that one?) I found my acceptance letter to Michigan, and the scholarship offer to Miami that I turned down. I had one my (many) 4.0 report cards (hey hey hey!), maps of Madrid and Paris from our trip after graduation, and about 5 invitations to graduation parties -- including Nikki's and Bobby's.

Thinking about that makes me remember how young I felt, and how out of place, my first year at U of M. It also makes me realize how lucky I am to have the friendships that I have, and how much I miss you guys! I know I've come a long way, but somehow I still feel disappointed in myself. I mean, I did NOT spend four years in college (and 60 grand) so that I could do customer service at Comcast. My car is a bucket of junk and I badly need a new one but cannot afford it. Nikki is trying hard to convince me to move to D.C. with her, and if I didn't have health insurance and student loan payments to worry about I'd probably do it, or at least seriously consider it. But as dissatisfied as I am with what I actually do at Comcast, I can't beat the benefits, and their education assistance program could be a great way to get a master's degree for cheap. My manager tells me I should use it as a means to an end, which I think is great advice. I love living in Michigan, even in the winter. Ecuador was amazing, but Christmas just wasn't Christmas without snow.

I'm babbling.

So what's my point? While unhappy with my actual job, I am extremely grateful to have one, because I tried the whole unemployment gig earlier this year and that was AWFUL. And I have to say that I find more and more in my life to be happy and thankful for every day. New ideas, new people. Potential for things I didn't think I'd find for a very long time. And I have all my past experiences -- with family and friends -- to hold me up if I start to feel a little bummed after a day of stupid assholes screaming at me because they haven't paid their bill in three months and now their cable doesn't work. I think that's why I like pictures so much. They always make me smile.

That's all for now folks.

Ex Marks the Spot

So today I had my fill of ex-boyfriends. One in particular. It's cool if he never wants to speak to me again. If that's what he needs, then I'm happy to oblige. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy, and if that means not talking to me then as much as it sucks ass to lose him as a friend -- since that's how we started -- then oh well. That was part of the risk I took when we started to become more than friends, and I understood that from the get-go. What's not cool is him pulling a 180 on me. A week ago he was all, "We should hang out," and, "When are you coming to Ann Arbor?" and sending me little nonchalant look-see, we-can-be-friends emails. Today he said, and I almost quote, "I would appreciate it if you could limit your contact with me as much as possible, because -- after consulting with my family and friends -- I've realized that the best thing for all parties concerned is for us not to speak to each other." And when I called him out on how he could've picked a better time, since I was in the car, on my way to his mom and dad's house, to pick up all the stuff that was abandoned at the end of our relationship, he basically told me to take a flying leap. The conversation ended with him saying -- and I DO quote, "Lose my phone numbers, lose my email address, and don't ever talk to me again."

So then I said, "Fuck you," and hung up the phone. I could feel the tears welling up and I started thinking, Well shit if Shaun wasn't right, I'm gonna end up crying, and then Matt said, "You better not cry, because he is not even worth one of your tears," and I'm sad to say that I actually felt like he was right. Three years of friendship, two years of dating, and it's like that.

Oddly enough this seemed like a weekend for exes. Them showing up out of the blue, wondering why the girls they shat on for years aren't happy to see them. That's some nerve right there. I was thinking about how exes are more trouble than they're worth, but there is at least one good thing that happens when they show up unexpectedly: they remind you why they're exes in the first place.

Sorry boys, the ladies are moving on to bigger and better things. It's time for a man now.

War of the Worlds

So tonight I had a date with my mom and we went to the mall and then to the movies and to dinner after that. We saw "War of the Worlds" and I have to say it's the best movie I've seen in a long time. That Steven Spielberg, he knows how to make a damn movie! And I wasn't even irritated with Tom Cruise, for all his recent ranting and raving and preaching about how Scientology rules, and psychiatry drools. There was not a moment of disappointment in the entire movie, and since I don't want to spoil it for anyone, I will just say GO SEE IT. Then if you want to talk about it, let me know!

I realized in the theater that my mom is 'that guy' -- the one who talks through the whole movie. (I guess that's where I get it from Shaun!) Haha, but it didn't even matter because the most obnoxious man in the universe sat just a few seats down from us. He had a ginormous bucket of popcorn that he was just rocketing into his mouth, and he must have been doing a piss poor job of chewing it because after every bite he'd start hacking and coughing. Then he'd grunt and shuffle around in his chair and hack and wheeze some more. It was ridiculous. After the movie my mom said to me, "How could that man's wife allow him out in public?!" It was just sooooo loud! And for the entirety of the 2+ hour movie!! It was animalistic, barbaric -- impressive even, in a revolting sort of way. It just figures he had to sit 3 seats down from us in a gigantic movie theater.

We came home after dinner and I watched one of my all time favorite movies, "The English Patient." I cry every single time I watch that movie, and always at the same part. Which I won't name here because I don't want to ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen it, but it's incredible how much it affects me. I get goose bumps and then my eyes well up and before I know it I am crying. The tragic love stories in far off places get me every time. And I love Ralph Fiennes. Even when he played a creepy lunatic in "Red Dragon" he was still somehow sexy as hell. And don't even get me started on "The End of the Affair" -- another tearjerker! I wonder how Mr. Fiennes will do as Harry Potter's greatest enemy, Lord Voldemort (a.k.a. You-Know-Who), when the next movie comes out (in November I think?). I'm sure he will be properly evil....

Time for bed now!

Think I Need A

Haircut?

We Get This From Our Father

When my brother and I discover a song that we are at once bound to love forever we will play it over, and over, and over, and over. In our cars. On our stereos. With headphones on. In the shower. My dad does this, which is funny because whenever Jesse and I are in the first throes of passion with a new tune, he will inevitably say, "Do you have to listen to it over, and over, and over, and over again??" I can just see my mom shaking her head and laughing to herself over how oblivious he is to his own habits.

On repeat now I have Coldplay's, "X&Y," which is track 6 off their new album, of the same name. Lyrics below. Again it has happened; as I listen to the song I think, "I wonder if this is how he feels?" But this time it is a different he, and I think the chances of me actually confirming my hunch are much greater than the last time I felt this way about a song. I think I agree with him though, that perhaps this CD was made for us to listen to together, and seperately, right now, and forever.

Today I grew a million tiny little crazy little lovely little thoughtlings in my brain. I wondered how cats can sound like miniature thunder when they purr, and how I want a cat again, and how it's too bad my dog eats cats, otherwise I'd go out and get one. I thought about how no matter what color I ever paint my toenails, my toes will always be ridiculous looking. I thought about how sometimes being patient is a pain in the ass, and sometimes sitting on a thumbtack is a pain in the ass. I thought about how I am waiting for a confrontation that I fear is inevitable, and how I will kick its ass Southfield style if it ever arises. I saw a picture of myself and thought, "Is my hair really that long?" Then I thought I ought to call my sister and ask her to cut my hair.

Right now I am thinking about how I feel so uncertain about my future, which is a foreign feeling for me. I feel like I am not sure what direction I will take, if I will go back to school, if I will join the Peace Corps after all, if I will write a book of poems and make a million bucks. I'm somewhat disappointed that I feel that last option is perhaps more likely than the middle one at this point. But I suppose only time will tell.

Patience is a virtue, or so he tells me. And I know he's right. So I'll just listen to "X&Y" a million more times while I am waiting for my life to figure itself out.

That'll work, right?

X&Y

by Coldplay

Trying hard to speak
And fighting with my weak hand
Driven to distraction
So part of the plan

When something is broken
And you try to fix it
Trying to repair it
Any way you can

I dive in at the deep end
You become my best friend
I wanna love you but I don't know if I can

I know something is broken and
I'm trying to fix it
Trying to repair it anyway I can

You and me are floating on a tidal wave... together
You and me are drifting into outer space... and singing
Oooohh, oooohh

Happy Fourth

Wow, I cannot believe it's the Fourth of July already. On Friday Shaun and I went to the Oakland County Fireworks at Addison Oaks County Park in BFE (actually, I think it may have been Lake Orion or something out there), and there was this little boy who kept going, "WOW!!! WHOOOAAAA!!! COOOL!!! I LOOOVE FIREWORKS!!!" every time one went off. It was hilarious. At one point he had all of us giggling because he was just so incredibly excited about the show, and Shaun said, "Can you imagine what that kid is gonna be like having sex??" Hahaha! Too funny....

Other than that, I haven't really done anything too Fourth-of-Julyish. I was remembering last year, how I had Nik and Gianny and Bri and Steph and Chris over at my house for BBQ and football and frisbee in my backyard, and how Sasha (my doggy) almost attacked Gianny when he walked in with his Panama hat on. And I think we played Uno at my kitchen table, and drank a lot of beer. Crazy how things have changed!

This weekend all I did was work. Comcast on Saturday, Gap yesterday, and today I work at Comcast for four hours (and it will be dead because people don't realize we're open 24/7). Then I think Shaun and I are going out with Shimmy and Kathy T. Shaun has gotten me all into NTN, and I think he's aching to serve me up a good butt kickin', since I beat him 4 out of 5 times last Friday! He even cheated once, but his guilt made him admit it to me as we were leaving BW3s. Hahahaha! The good thing about only working four hours was that I had a nice, relaxing morning. I sat outside in the sunshine and wrote in my journal and read (I just started Beloved, by Toni Morrison), and talked to Kira on the phone for a while. I can't believe her wedding is in less than two months!! I think the two jobs are starting to wear on me, and since lately it's been no fun at all working at the Gap, I am really considering quitting. But damn is that discount hard to let go of!

Pages

from my journal in Spring 2003

Get Behind Me Satan

Recently someone told me that a certain song makes them think of me, and it's on this CD, and I have listened to it a bunch of times and am still at a complete and total loss for how exactly it could remind him of me. I guess that is probably part of the reason we broke up. Whenever I think of him lately I feel like a tiny little piece of shit. Because I feel like I did something terrible to a person who didn't deserve it. It's not his fault I couldn't handle him. *Sigh* I know that eventually we will all be OK, because most wounds heal -- well either that or they kill you, and I am not a killing kind of a wound-- but I really wish I could get over feeling guilty for not loving him enough. And for wanting something with someone new, wanting everything with someone new. Wondering if maybe all I've ever wanted is waiting in this one someone new. (No pressure, by the way.) I can feel the guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt.... It's beating me like rain.

Earlier I was thinking about the title of this album, and how it made no sense to me at all at first, but I think I get it -- or at least part of it now. It's the loss of love, both given and received, and how it can make you crazy if you let it tear you up. How it can tempt you to do things you know you shouldn't, how it can make you be evil to someone you thought you loved. How when it's ending, it brings out the devil in you, and once it's over, you just have to get it behind you. How to do that I haven't exactly figured out yet. But I will keep listening, and let you know, if anyone is still reading this garbage.

You think not tellin' is the same as not lyin', don't you?
Well I guess not feeling is the same as not cryin' to you?
In the red... in the rain....

The White Stripes


Other than being eaten alive with guilt from the inside out, I guess I'm OK.

Except that I may have been incorrectly medicated by my pharmacist at Walgreen's. She filled my perscription for my thyroid (I have Hashimoto's Disease, Google it) incorrectly a month ago. The bottle said I had 60 pills as of 5/27, and today I went to pick up the refill cuz I had one left, which made me realize that I'd only gotten 30 pills. In May I noticed that they were bigger than they normally are as well, which I thought was because my doctor increased my dosage, but today my mom and I realized that the pill I've taken every day for the last 30 some odd days was the wrong one. Definitely the wrong size, and who knows if it was even for my thyroid??!! So, I foresee bloodwork in my very near future (yick!), and perhaps a multimillion dollar lawsuit (ha, wouldn't that be great?) against Walgreen's if I end up growing a sixth toe or something. Just my luck it'd probably end up being something to increase the hideousness of my poor feet. But that would decrease my 'quality of life' pretty significantly, which is good for lawsuits (but bad for sandal wearing in the summertime), right lawyers?!?

How scary is that though, that you could take a prescription to your pharmacist for penicillin, and he could fill it up with oh, say, cyanide? And just kill you like that. It's blind trust in the system. You never know what kind of twisted screwball could manage to graduate from pharmacy school. Or steal the night manager's keys to Walgreen's and play miserable tricks on the elderly and ill. I mean look at the ass who managed to steal one presidential election, and four years later still manage to dupe poor white people into thinking that they could be in his club too, so you better vote the right way, otherwise those evil God-hating (*gasp*) GAY people are going to come to steal your kids! But that's a whole 'nother entry all its own....

I was thinking today that it's weird that people I will never know will read these things about me, and somewhere they will have my thoughts and my pictures in their minds for a time -- even if it's only a second in passing -- and I will have nothing of them. And I wonder if this is an accurate representation of me. I worry that it's not. I feel like I'm trying my blog on like it's a dress I'm not sure I'll buy, because I'm not sure it's 'me'. So I ask my friends, "Guys, is this me?" As I come out for a twirl.

So guys, is this me?

Can't you hear me, can't you hear me calling your name girl?
In the red... In the rain....

The Denial Twist

by Jack White

If you think that a kiss is all in the lips
C'mon, you got it all wrong, man
And if you think that our dance was all in the hips
Oh well, then do the twist
If you think holding hands is all in the fingers
Grab hold of the soul where the memory lingers and
Make sure to never do it with the fingers
Cause I'll tell everyone in the world
But he was thinking about the girl
Ya, but he's thinking about the girl, oh
A lot of people get confused and they bruise
Real easy when it comes to love
They start putting on their shoes and walking out
And singing "boy, I think I had enough"
Just because she makes you feel wrong
She don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy
Take a tip and do yourself a little service
Take a mountain turn it into a mole
Just by playing a different role
Ya, by playing a different role, oh
The boat ya you know she's rockin' it
And the truth well ya know there's no stoppin' it
The boat ya you know she's still rockin' it
The truth well you know there's no stoppin' it
So what, somebody left you in a rut
And wants to be the one who's in control
But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder
How the hell she can be so cold
So now you're mad, denying the truth
And it's getting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth
Ya need ta spit it out, in a telephone booth
While ya call everyone that you know, and ask 'em
Where do you think she goes
Oh ya, where d'ya suppose she goes, oh
The truth well you know there's no stoppin' it
And the boat well ya know she's still rockin' it
The boat ya you know she's still rockin' it
And the truth ya you know there's no stoppin' it
You recognize with your back in the back?
That it's colder when she rocks the boat
But it's the cause hittin on the Cardinal Laws?
'bout the proper place to hang her coat
So to you, the truth is still hidden
And the soul plays the role of a lost little kitten but
You should know that the dark is one kitten?
She's been singing it all along
But you were hearin' a different song
Ya you were hearin' a different song
But you were hearin' a different song.

My new favorite song....

Jesse's Tattoo

So my brother got a tattoo in memory of our friend, Nick, who passed away just this past February. The tattoo is of a cross, all cracked and broken, and has the years of Nick's birth and death and his first name on banners across it. The tattoo artist did an excellent job, but I don't know how I feel about it. Jesse has never been one to show emotion, and so I know that he must be thinking about Nick a lot to do this. I think it might be his way to remind himself every day, so that he never forgets his friend.

I think about Nick every single day. I still can't believe that I will never see him again. Never get to swindle him and Jesse out of their Halloween candy like we did when we were all kids. Or just hear him laugh. I was sitting at the computer, exactly as I am now, when my dad came into the living room and said, "I have to go to Tony's. They found little Nick dead in his bed up at MSU." I felt like my heart was frozen, and my mom just kept asking over and over how it happened.

He's interred at Holy Sepulchre Cemetary, which is at 10 Mile and Beech, right on the way to Nikki's house, among other things. Every time I drive by I blow him a kiss. I wish I knew what to say to Carrie (his sister, who is my age). I want to call her, but I just don't know what words would come out of my mouth. I can't help but think that anything I say will be silly and irrelevant, even though I know that if I were in her situation I'd just like for people to try. I wrote a little testimonial on the website she set up in his memory (see the links at the left), which I'm sure his family has read, but other than that, I don't know what else I can say. I can't even write about it in my journal. I just start crying....

Sigh. Nick, we miss you. Watch out for us all, OK?

Nick Mainella

1985-2005

Arte ecuatoriano

A watercolor from Otavalo

Homeless Art

So I realized this morning how much I really need to get my own place. I can't handle the ongoing war between my dad and my little brother. And my mom always gets stuck in the middle. I just can't take much more. Plus, I have this giant portfolio of artwork that I've been collecting, and I need some of my own walls to hang it all up on.

I bought a bunch of it while I was in Ecuador, but there is other stuff there too. Some of my old photographs. I miss having access to a darkroom. I should get my cameras out again....

That's all for now, time to go to work.

Just Me

by Nik

Say Halleluja...

Because today a seemingly impossible thing happened: I got a cell phone. You know, after my shit got shut off in December I thought, "This is really not that big a deal, I can live without a phone." Which is true, but you guys, my friends, were driving me crazy with all your begging -- Maria, PUH-LEEZ get a damn cell phone! We can never get in touch with you!! Well people, ask and you shall receive. And I didn't even have to pay a deposit! Now you don't have to rely on my family to pass along messages, or listen to my dad's increasingly, um, creative answering machine greetings anymore. Time to party!

So far today has been a great day. I don't want to jinx it seeing as how it's only 9:15, but I really don't think things could go downhill. I woke up to a sunny, hot, beautiful Saturday that I had COMPLETELY OFF FROM ALL JOBS! Awesome. Then I went shopping with my baby bro's girlfriend, Jessica, Got my phone turned back on (sweet!), and stopped by the post office to mail Beca her birthday present. Which brings me to....

Feliz cumpleaños a ti mi amiga querida! Yes, that is right, today Miss Beca (and her twin Neftali) turned 24. Girl I hope you are out there are partying it up royal with Kevin. I hope you guys had weather as nice as it was here in Michigan!! Miss you chica!

Then I came home, laid in the sunshine in my backyard listening to one of my neighbor's get married (the ceremony and reception for Miss Vanessa Hicks was at their house today, for those who know her). Took a nice cool shower. Read some magazines. Went to have dinner with a cutie pie at 7:30. Now I am just waiting for Nik to get out of work to see what's up for tonight. Oh, and I bought three CDs today, and every single one of them is AMAZING. The Killers (a long overdue purchase), the new White Stripes disc (which I bought on blind faith since I hadn't heard a single, solitary song), and Amerie's, "Touch," which is pretty bangin'.

Let's hope tomorrow is even better than today -- or at least not any worse!

Oh and P.S. If you want my new cell number call the house or email me, I'm not putting it up here for obvious reasons. Holla!

My Closet

From the ground up

Hey HAW!

Butka 2004, ah memories....

Funkytown

So today I finally woke up feeling like myself again. Ever since Saturday afternoon I have just felt kind of... icky. I think I wasn't sleeping enough. Plus every once in a while I go through little funks. I feel like my bod has snapped out of it, but there's something tugging at me on the inside that I have yet to figure out. An incessant amount of thinking about it hasn't seemed to help, and my journaling isn't really sussing it out either. Blech! Come on Maria, get with the program!

Yesterday I spent the whole day on my couch, watching TV and sleeping, and of course, gossiping with Nikki because she was here all day. (Check out the link on the right if you want to know more about what's up with Nikster.) You know, I have to say, that although I love men, sometimes they do things and I just want to go, "What the HELL do you think you're doing??" Like when they break it off with an amazing woman because their lives are just, "too busy right now," or when they see you in a bar and claim to have brushed shoulders with you but for some reason couldn't say hi. Crap like that is how feelings get hurt. Come on guys, honesty goes a long way -- even if it hurts in the short run, and you should always smile and say hi, it's a much better alternative than skulking away and pretending not to have seen someone.

I think maybe I should go attempt to clean my room a little bit, since there are so many clothes all over the place that I can barely see any of my furniture.

Oh, did I mention that I am ridiculously excited for the sixth Harry Potter book that is coming out in about a month?? Yea, and yesterday Nik and I checked out the trailer for the new movie in November, and all I have to say is that there are dragons. And someone dies. But I won't tell!

My immortal beloved...

"I can live only completely with you, or not at all."

So I just finished watching, "Immortal Beloved," about Ludwig von Beethoven. One of my favorite movies. I've seen it so many times, and yet each time I am moved by the tortured love story behind the music. I have no idea if it is at all based in fact (Steph, can you help me out on that one?), but I still love it. At the end, when she finally reads the letter, after a lifetime of pain and suffering at his hands, and we realize it was all because of a tragic misunderstanding, I can feel the heartbreak. To have spent your whole life without your true love because of a missed letter. It's a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. I wonder if this movie was nominated for anything....

Anyway, I've spent all day as a couch potato because I haven't been feeling very well. I stayed home from work and ended up sleeping and watching an obscene amount of TV. Can I just say that I frickin' LOVE my free digital cable?? It is awesome.

Well, that's it for now. Most boring blog entry of all time!

Baños, Ecuador

Un rio en Banos

Diarios de motocicleta

Has anyone seen, “The Motorcycle Diaries,” with Gael García Bernal? If you haven’t, then you should. I just watched it and I have to say that Anders was right, it’s incredible. I think I may have to make a trip to Borders come pay day and purchase some of Guevara’s writings. (For all those who don’t know, the movie is about young Ernesto “Che” Guevara’s South American trek desde Argentina hasta Venezuela with his companion, Alberto Granado. If you don’t know who Che is, then stop reading this immediately and go get your learn on, Google him or something, jeez!) It was insightful, funny, and beautifully filmed. Makes me miss Ecuador.

It also makes me wish I would have paid closer attention in a Spanish lit class I took during my fall semester senior year. It was a study of the lives of the indigenous people of the Andean region of Latin America, especially Ecuador, Bolivia, and Perú. I remember sitting in the class three times a week being bored out of my mind, and I remember reading some interesting essays, but I also remember hating my professor. He was terrible at engaging our class – he lectured for the straight 90 minutes with his back turned to us, his voice resonating off the chalkboard, the whole time making frantic and completely illegible notations with an ever dwindling piece of chalk.

During the final exam, which was a one-on-one conversation about the course and what we learned and a discussion of the material, I was thinking, “Man, every word that is coming out of my mouth is complete and total bullshit. And in Spanish no less. Hmmm, I wonder how you say ‘bullshit’ in Spanish?” Then my 25 minutes were up, and he opened the door to let the next person in and touched me on the shoulder and said, “María, por qué duermes en mi clase?” And I said, “Lo siento Profesor Allende, pero estoy enferma, tengo pulmonía (pneumonia),” because I had just been diagnosed. And he nodded and I left and another student had their 25 minute bullshit session, because truthfully we all hated the class. Somehow I got a B+ in that class, which mystifies me still.

But there is a scene in the movie where Ernesto is reading a book that a doctor specializing in leprosy had just given to him. And it’s a book I read for that class, by José Carlos Mariátegui, called Siete ensayos de interpretación de la realidad peruana. And I thought, “Hey, I’ve read that.” And though it may sound incredibly trite and simple and stupid – and even snobbish – I really get a kick out of moments like that. I think I have to read the book again now, and I’ll have to dust off my Spanish dictionary too, because my dependence on the subtitles to understand big chunks of the movie has made me realize that I am shamefully fuera de práctica.

Go Daddy, Go!

Thanks to Shaun and Go Daddy! for my new domain name: http://www.mariaawilliams.com . Yes, there are two A's before the W, that's for my middle name y'all. Look for my blog there from now on, and find it you will.

Since today is Father's Day I'd like to send out some thanks and appreciation to my Daddy-O. To the man who fixes my car, intimidates potential boyfriends with shotguns (and their shells), loves to eat popcorn with milk (yick!), and does a darn good impression of Grizzly Adams: thanks Daddy for all you do, I love you and I hope you and Jesse have a great time fishing on this beautiful Father's Day!

Campfire Hoodie

Strangetoes

I have strange toes and I am stubborn.
These are things I feel you should know about me
before we begin what I think we are about to begin.
Because those might be dealbreakers for you --
if you've always hoped to have children with beautiful feet.
Then I am not the girl for you.

On the other hand,
I do have redeeming qualities.

I smile warmly, and often.
I am intelligent, inquisitive, and passionate.
And I'm honest.
Which is why I thought I should mention my feet
before we get all tangled up in this beginning.

For a friend...

Hello Sunshine

Hello Sunshine

Scenes from Petoskey

Shaun and I around town

Smile Like You Mean It

So Shaun and I ended up going to Petoskey instead of Las Vegas. Don't ask how, but that's what we did, and we had such a great time! It thunderstormed on and off but we spent the rainy time either napping, in the Victories Casino playing $5 black jack, or in the movie theater. We also went mini-golfing and spent a good amount of time on the beach and playing frisbee in Lake Michigan. Well, Shaun played frisbee, I lobbed it through the air repeatedly making many unsuccessful and pathetic attempts to actually throw the disc to him instead of at him. We also ate some amazingly good food at this place called The Side Door Saloon, which, if any of you are contemplating a random trip to Petoskey, you should check out if you ever have the chance. Order the seafood pasta or the whitefish. Ridiculous!

The casino was pretty hilarious. Check it out here http://www.victories-casino.com/ . We walked in and Shaun said, "Holy shit! It looks like we're in someone's basement!" (A really nice, spacious basement, with a pretty rockin' blues band and some nice slot machines though.) And then he noticed the Pabst Blue Ribbon for $1.50 special. It was pretty much over from there. Let's just say that the next day when we went back the waitresses and dealers (plural, both of them) remembered us for Shaun's charisma and um, affinity for PBR. It was a total blast, plus I won $80 playing black jack (so Dad, you can be proud!).

The whole weekend was awesome, not a bad moment to be found, even with thunderstorms and sunburns! (The Pistons could have helped us start and finish it off with a bang, but I know they'll come around!!) Here are some pics above and below from the trip.

Golfito

At Pirate's Cove Mini-Golf course in Petoskey

Ham Solo and Chew-broccoli

This is hilarious, thanks Amy!
http://www.storewars.org/flash/index.html

Freedom

So I don't have to go back to work until Monday! Awesome. Just awesome. The last few days at work have been totally miserable. The storm system that came through on Sunday did a lot of damage and there have been spotty power outages and cable outages ever since and people are starting to get totally pissed. Then there are just the normal, "I hate your company but you have a monopoly," customers. I had one guy tonight go on a rant about how TiVo is sooooo much better and he can't wait til they come out with a Hi-Def compatible one because then he is going to throw our DVR in the trash. I wanted to tell him to take his $5,000 TV and shove it up his ass, but somehow I managed to restrain myself.

Anyway, I have four days off from Comcast and the Gap and that is amazing!! The Las Vegas plan has changed into camping for multiple and complicated reasons, but in all honesty I really don't have Vegas dinero right now, so I'd rather just go camping. A sexy man + beautiful Lake Michigan + my bikini + a good book + some beer and campfire grilled hot dogs = one damn good weekend. I'll get to break in my new Old Navy flips flops. :) And I haven't been camping in a looong time, not since I was in Ecuador, so I am really lookin' forward to it. Pray that we have nice weather!

I was thinking the other day about how my whole Life Plan has changed in the past couple months. Before I started working at Comcast I was 300% that I'd be joining the Peace Corps within a year. Now I'm considering starting grad school next winter, since the company has a fantastic education assistance program. I could go get a master's for almost *free* and then I'd only have to work for one year after I graduate. So let's say in 4 years (OK, maybe 4 1/2) I'm all done and I have my master's in [insert subject here] from [insert institution of higher learning here], then what? The Peace Corps for two years? I'd be 30 by the time I was done. And then law school, the ultimate goal. I'd be just starting my career at 33. Or 34. Where exactly am I going to fall in love, get married, have a baby, or two, or three? And I'll still be in debt up to my arse from Michigan and wherever I decide to go to law school. I dunno.

It seems silly to worry about these things because they are so hypothetical and far away. And who's to say I won't fall in love tomorrow and be married in a year, then what?? I guess what I'm playing around with is the concern that maybe there's really no point in having such a specific timeline for your life, because shit happens, and people change, and opportunities present themselves, and you just never know who you are going to meet when you wake up in the morning. So maybe I should just relax, take my time, live my life, and see where the road takes me.

More after the vacation, for all 4 of you that might ever read this. (Maybe some new pictures too!)

Sombreros

Panama hats in Cuenca, Ecuador

Happy New Year!

Balloons on New Year's Eve 2005

Sourpuss

I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed because I am in a sourpuss mood today. :( Man, I would pay someone else to go to work for me right now. Any takers?? Come on, getting bitched at over the phone all day is fun!! I swear... It really is... OK, I'm lying, hence the diminutive font. I was trying to pawn off my job on someone, but apparently there are no takers, so I guess I'll just go.

What the hell is my problem this morning anyway? I like my job! (Well, sort of. OK, not really at all, but I am comforted by the fact that I am good at it, make decent money, and also that I know it is only temporary.) Plus I have four days off this weekend and some good company to look forward to!! And hopefully my bikini and a beach and some pina coladas as well, mmmmm! I will just try to ignore the fact that it is GORGEOUS outside right now -- it's a perfect Michigan summer day, right after a storm and everything -- and go back to getting ready to go to work.

The pictures are just for the hell of it.

Packers vs. Lions at Ford Field

Me and my mama

This 'n That

Soooo... not much to report. I went to Old Navy on Saturday and bought 4 pairs of flip flops for $10.60. That is awesome. I needed some new ones because mine smell like old, dirty feet. Gee, I wonder why? At first I went into EMS because I really wanted a new pair of Reefs, but of course they did not have my size in any of the colors I would've wanted. That happens every time I go in there. I think maybe I'll just have to go online. But in the meantime I have some lovely new colorful cheap-O ones from Old Navy. They make my feet happy. :)

Right now I am avoiding being in my bedroom because I have let it get out of control disorganized. I think I have about 75% of my wardrobe on top of my bed and in my hamper right now -- all clean and just waiting to be put it in its right place. Before I can actually go to sleep tonight I know that I am going to have to clean off my bed. What do we think the chances are of me putting all the clothes away vs. relocating the heap?? I'd say about 30/70.

I've decided that people with cable are all morons. At work tonight I think I may have spoken to the Stupidest Person on Earth (SPoE). Our conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hi, this is Maria, how can I help you tonight?"
SPoE: "Um yea, my power went out a little while ago, and now I don't have cable."
Me: "OK, is your power back on now?"
SPoE: "Well yea, sort of, it keeps flashing in and out. It's off now."
Me: "OK, well I can't really do any troubleshooting if you don't currently have power. What you need to do is wait until your power is permanently restored and if your cable doesn't come on then you can call us back."
SPoE: "Well, can't you just schedule an appointment now, in case it doesn't come back on?"
Me: "We can't do that because if we set up the appointment for tomorrow let's say, and you still don't have power, but you forget to call and cancel, then a technician is going to show up at a house with no power, which is no good."
SPoE: "Oh."
...Pause...
...Silence...
SPoE: "So I just have to wait til the power comes back on then?"
Me: "Yes."
SPoE: "OK. Thanks. Bye."
...Click...

I swear to God, did these people snack on lead paint chips as children?? It's like calling a mechanic and saying, "My car won't start, but it's out of gas and I can't find my keys. Do you think you could you take a look at it for me??" Oy.

Oh I almost forgot, on Friday I went to watch Shaun play softball, which was pretty fun, except that his team lost, but not for lack of effort on his part. The funniest thing was that the opposing team had a bright orange team tee-shirt, that said, "The Shocker," and had a picture of a right hand with only the ring finger bent inwards. When I expressed confusion over the meaning of the hand symbol (I was thinking shadow puppets here people, that is how far off I was!") Shaun's best friend, Shimmy T, was like, "You don't know the SHOCKER?? Two in the pink, one in the stink!!" And I think I was visibly revolted. What kind of nonsense is that to put on your team's softball jersey?? I mean, there are children at these games!! Can you just imagine your little 7 year old son and his friend running around going, "Yeah! The SHOCKER!!!" and giving each other that hand symbol?!

Ugh, I shudder just thinking about it. (If you don't get it, please never ask me, it is too horrible to try to explain.)

For now I must go. I need to dig my bed out from under a monstrous pile of clothing. And yes, most of it is from the Gap.

Andersito, Marita y Thomasito

Los Tres Amigos en Austin

Slackin' on my Pimpin'

Lately, I have been slackin' on my pimpin', there is just no other way to say it. I HAVE NOT BEEN GETTING SHIT DONE! Ok, so maybe that was another way to say it. Examples, you ask?

#1: Tonight I came home from work to find proof that I am shitty ass friend, and it's all thanks to the USPS. My friend John, bro to Alyssa, attempted to send me a little sumthin' when I was living in Ecuador. That was November 2003 - April 2004. It was returned to him after many months of sitting in a completely inefficient Ecuadorian post office well after I had already returned home. Then he attempted to send it to me again in Bloomington, IN, where I lived for about a month this past Fall. Well, that was also returned to him, because by the time it got to Indiana I wasn't there anymore either. So today I finally received it, and it's a letter (well 3 actually, one for every delivery attempt) and a CD with about 20 songs on it, every single one of which has my name in the title. Is that not so sweet?? Yea, and I haven't talked to John since I don't even really remember when, and here he is going to all this trouble and spending an obscene amount of money on postage (OK well, $8 is obscene for one letter and a little CD) to send me a homemade CD. I suck. If that's not enough proof, read on!

#2: My homeboy Brian (Hey HAW! -- I have no idea what's going on right now....) has been calling me and keeps getting my voicemail (also known as Mama Williams), and I keep not calling him back because I a) work a lot and b) have no cell phone and c) am barely ever at home. He just passed his Playing Ability Test (for he is a badass golfer and endeavors to be a pro someday) after working so hard for it, and I know I need to call him to offer up my phatty congratulations, but I still just haven't. Part of it is kind of because I talk on the phone ALL FUCKING DAY at work, and so when I do come home I like to not be on the phone, but part of it is just me being a shitty friend. Again, I suck. Still not convinced? Keep reading!

#3: Walgreen's has been calling me to come pick up the prescription I was supposed to have collected on Friday (and this is my thyroid medicine, which I really need to take every day, and haven't taken since Friday).

#4: I think that I have been telling my dad, "Yea Dad, I'm going to get my oil changed this weekend, I know, I know!" for about 2 months now. No lie. I hope my engine doesn't blow up tomorrow on the way to Big Ray's, that'd be pretty shitty. And probably cost a whole more than $29.99.

#5: My student loan collector people (A.K.A. Psycho Phone Stalkers From HELL) call like five times a day (along with my 3 absurdly late credit card collector agent people) from all sorts of fun places like Maryland, Kentucky, and Out of Area (which sounds like a pretty far out and groovy place to visit if only one could obtain discernible directions), and I avoid them like the plague. I let the machine get it, and then they get to listen to my dad's cryptic and somewhat halting answering machine message that has one of those really long pauses after the, "Hello," part of it, to make you think you actually got a person and then, WHAM!, you realize it's just a fucking irritating ass answering machine, AGAIN. I swear, I just gave these people like $1000, isn't that ENOUGH to get them to stop phone stalking me??!!

And #6: I'm pretty sure I missed a mandatory meeting at the Gap on Tuesday, that I selected to attend, and so really have no excuse for missing. Hope I'm not fired. It would suck ass to lose my discount.

So anyway, those are just a few of the reasons why I suck lately. To all my homies that I have not been in touch with, just know that I think about you guys a lot, and miss you all, especially those that are far away, and some day I will get my act together and send you emails or call. Maybe that is what I will do this weekend.

In the meantime, you should click on my Maddox link on the right and read his rant about Star Wars. WARNING: it contains spoilers. But the shit is funny as H-E-double hockey sticks.

Oh and P.S., I've discovered that caramel Hershey's kisses are the greatest thing ever.