Of Insignificant Importance

The Witch, The Post-LaFawnDuh Kip Dynamite, The Brain Donor. Behold

Preparing the 'staches with eye liner. My Sissy rocks. Everyone kept asking, "are those REAL?"

The doorbell rang, and we opened the door to the Seventies. We did a little dance. Made a little love. Basically, we got down tonight.

We grow 'em REEEEEAAAAL purty here in Texas. YeeHaw.

Ever heard that song: "Coal Miner's Wife"? Me either. Ever seen Leaving Las Vegas? Me either.

We laugh in the face of danger at our parties. Sure, a huge ass lighter flame could use that oil there on cousin's coal-minin' getup to ignite this party ("the roof, the roof, the roof is on FIRE"), but we live on the edge. It's Halloween!

We were simply discussing what was on my mind. Literally.

If looks could kill...

I had ...half a mind... to play pool!

After I found my game, I lost my gauze. Smiling just doesn't look right, does it? I have a pretty sissy!

BEHOLD: The vicious Noie doth attack her beloved Bear. Sometimes good can turn into pure Evil.

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! The scariest monster of all! Lanette, having just woken up, and spied upon by her evil mother, who showed no mercy by snapping this picture whilst the monster was still in her lair! Run, chidren, run!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!

Well, thanks to my Brit friends, I've learned the word "knackered" and feel I can properly use it in this sentence:

"My work week has rendered me quite knackered."

Of course, I probably butchered the word and will therefore be banned from ever using any Britlandish words again, but what can I say: I'm knackered.

Seeing as how all of my brainpower this week has been used to produce a quite in-depth biannual report (the only highlight being that I taught MYSELF something new in SPSS, which has always be my hairy monster in the closet), I have nothing of my usual brilliance to write about. I did, however, come up with a rather challenging question for you, my dear readers.

I know several of you are like me, totally addicted to and living your life by music. I have a very ecclectic range of tunes that litter my iPod, from Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald, to John Mayer and Jason Mraz, to J-Kwon and Kanye West, back to Enya, curving around at Keane and the Killers, and circling back round to Ray Charles and Otis Redding. Plus many, many more.

So, MOH would like to ask you...If you could pick a song, out of the millions you know and love, that most closely resembles how you see yourself or your life, what do you think it would be? And, of course, why?

Here's mine: I know that this would be a difficult task, but somehow, someway, the PERFECT song bounded into my head; "Pick Me, MOH" it said, and who am I to argue with the voice of a song. So I have chosen John Mayer's St. Patrick's Day as the most perfect way to sum up my life right at this very instant. It's so fitting, it's eerie. Read the lyrics. Sure, John Mayer may be one of those writers that aims at tugging on the heartstrings of girls like me, but I tell you what, I completely fall for it. Here's why:


November WON'T see our goodbye, and I know I don't want to be alone at Christmas time. I'm ringing in the New Year with the person I love the most, where we probably will make resolutions a hundred times. February is always a hard month for me, but with him as my Valentine, I'm sure it will be the easiest one yet, and then...St. Patrick's Day. And we go from there. Measuring your time by the holidays you'll spend with the only person that matters to your romantic heart. That's me. All over.

Hello valued readers!

I know I've posted a lot in the last 24 or so hours (no thanks necessary), but I really need my readers' suggestions ASAP!

As some of you know, I had recently asked for any costume suggestions for this Halloween, as I am attending a costume party thrown by my cousin who, 2 years ago, donned a quite remarkable Aragorn costume complete with dyed jet black hair! Thank you to those who commented. But I am asking for more help!

The party is this Saturday, and seeing as how all of my creative juices have been extracted writing this here blog, I feel that it is only appropriate that you, the readers who are so priviledged as to read my deliciously fantastic stories, should now give back in the form of HALLOWEEN COSTUME IDEAS! Oh, and y'all are really funny too, and should have some smashing ideas.

I want to go as something funny, something of a pun (Nanners, please). But any suggestions otherwise are welcome. Okay, let the ideas roooooll in. Thankin' ya muchly!

I would have added this to the Mother's Day post, but there were already so many random things in there already! Just a note, something made me have a good chuckle today.

As many of you know, I switched from LiveJournal to Blogger a while ago. I even left a "goodbye" post. So, you would think it dead, right? Wrong.

This morning I checked my email and found a livejournal comment was waiting for me. What?? But everyone knows I've moved on. SIGH, some people just can't let go.

So I read the subject line, and I see it says:

"your dumb"

I deleted the rest of the comment (something about them determing that I had a screw loose after reading my latest LJ entries?). Adhering to my better judgment, I resisted the tempation to leave this comment in response:

"Hi Anon (yeah, right). The next time you want to insult me, you'd be wise to do a grammar and spelling check before hitting the 'post' button, mkay? Ta!"

Just thought y'all would get a kick outta that.

NOW GO READ THE OTHER POST!

Now, I know some of you have heard this story before, so read or don't, it's your choice. But events from this weekend have (unfortunately) brought this memory to the forefront of my mind. So here you go:

How I Ruined Mother's Day of 2004: by MOH.

It started off like every other Mother's Day, yeah? Woke up, made the Mom breakfast, lounged around for the day, had an early dinner, did the presents thing. All was well. My parents and I (yes, I was still living with them at the time, sue me, I was in grad school and poor!) had decided that there was no better way to top off the evening than with a nice movie from our neighborhood Blockbuster. I volunteered to get the movie whilst my mom and dad visited my Grandma and Grandpa to distribute other Mother's Days presents.

Now, something you have to understand about my mother is this: When she give you a time frame, for anything, it is statistically proven that she will be at LEAST an hour later than promised. Example: When Mom goes to Walmart to "pick up a few things" and she says she'll be back for dinner at 6PM, you know not to even start cooking until 8PM. And she will SWEAR to you that she's sticking to her shopping list ("I'm only going in for trash bags, fertilizer, and Vanilla Cokes"), but then come back with 26 bags full to the brim of groceries. "Well, I HAD to do a quick run down each aisle...." she'll try to explain. It is a pattern we have all come to know very well, and despite her best efforts to convice us otherwise, we know she'll never change.

Such was my thinking on this fateful day.

"Well, Mom and Daddy will be gone at LEAST an hour", I reasoned with myself, "I can go visit Holly's mom and wish her a very quick Happy Mother's Day." So, off I went in Little Red, to do a quick "how do!" then scurry back home for the movie and some cake.

When I pulled up to Holly's parent's house, I left my cell phone in the car because I knew it would be a quick visit. We did our great big hug hello, then she invited me in for a bit. "Oh, I can't stay long, my parents are expecting me back in a bit with a movie," I told her. However, when the two of us get to gabbing, especially when the topic is that of Holly, we are hard to stop. So, two hours later, I was telling her I should be on my way. We said our goodbyes, and I unlocked my car door and promptly sat on my cell (mobile, for you Brits) phone.

"Gah," I thought, "what a painnnnnn....WHAT THE HELL???!?!?!?!"

26 Missed Calls

"Oh sh*t," I think to myself, "someone's died!" I look to see who the calls were from...Home, Mom Cell, Sissy Cell, Brandon (ex-boyfriend at the time) Cell, Heidi Cell...this certainly cannot be good! Heart pounding, I call the first number back--Sissy Cell:

[Frantically Answers]: "Lanette???"

Me: "Sissy, what the heck is going on, I had 26 missed calls on my cell phone!"

S: "Lanette, where ARE you?"

M: "Me? I'm at the [Last name of people's] house, why?"

S: "Oh my God, Lanette, we have been looking for you everywhere!"

[My heart drops...this was about ME???]

S: "You don't even know how worried mom is, she's been crying for a good hour now. Daddy's driven all the way to Comfort, we've driven all around San Antonio, we've called everyone who knows you. Lanette, Mom's called the police and they're at the house!"

M: "WHAT?? Why, I've only been gone a short while!"

S: "Lanette, mom said you were supposed to meet them back at the house over 3 hours ago with a movie. When she couldn't get a hold of you, she started panicking and has been ever since! You need to get home RIGHT NOW!"

M: "Okay, okay, I'm on my way, just tell Mom I'm alright!"

So, I speed home, and sure enough, there's a police car, complete with flashing red an blue lights atop the vehicle. Officer James came walking up to me:

OJ: "You alright, young lady?"
Me: "Yes, I'm fine, is my mom okay? I can't believe this, I was only gone two hours!"
OJ: "She's pretty shook up, you should go in there and tell her you're alright. She said you were gone three."

So, I dashed into the house and found my sister staring at me with a look that could only be described as a combination of both irritation and fear, and my mom was slumped down in a chair, sobbing. I knelt down by my mother and said "Mom, I'm here now, everything's okay, I'm fine" but she was unable to answer or look at me, and soon, had to take some medicine and go to bed.

After hearing a bit more about how irresponsible I was, I let the emotions of the night overtake me, and I ran to my room and closed the door, sat on a chair and broke down into violent, shoulder-shanking sobs. Soon, my daddy, always the calm one in the family, knocked on my door.

Daddy: "Hey Sug (short for Sugar, it's what my parents call me)"
Me:"I...ughhh...did....ughhhh...n't....gahunhhh...mean....auhahahgh...
to...uhnuhnush...do...ugghg...thiiiiiiis"[cue violent, shoulder-shaking bawling].

Daddy then proceeded to calm me down by saying that Mom wasn't mad at me, she was just worried out of her mind, and that if anything ever happened to me, they wouldn't know what to do. Which I understood.

Some of you may be thinking...um, her parents TOTALLY over-reacted. This very much may be the case, but that is just how they (well, my mom mostly) operate. My mother is a bundle of nerves, a cornucopia of paranoia with a large handful of worry just residing in her poor, overworked, inadequate-to-handle-such-stress body. She told me once that no matter how old I get, she will always see me as a 16 year old girl, whom the world is out to tear to shreds. And THAT is what I have to live with. But God bless her, the woman loves me.

So, after I calmed down and apologized to my sister and brother-in-law for them having to drive all around town looking for their sister's carnage, I fell into an exhausted sleep. I woke up only to find that my mother had fallen ill. She came into my room, however, to apologize for getting so worked up and upsetting me so much, and assured me that her getting the flu was nothing related to what I had caused the night before. I didn't believe her.

I did, however, get a nice little speech about how I have to be more responsible with my actions, and that there are several people out there that will always be wondering how I'm doing. If I don't respond to those people in a decent timeframe, they're going to start to imagine the worst. Blah, blah, blah, that went on for about an hour.

But I understood, I got the picture, I apologized, and I knew I screwed up. And THAT is how I ruined Mother's Day of 2004.

Fast-forward a year and a half, and I will unveil the events that caused me to regurgitate this story in the first place.

Extremely brief details (because I'm tired of typing and I'm sure you're tired of reading):
1.) Mom knew I was to be attending a wedding with a friend on Saturday.
2.) Mom also knew that the dress I was excited to be wearing was at the cleaners in my Hometown.
3.) Mom knew the cleaners closed at 1:00PM.
4.) Mom knew I was supposed to be coming out to their house before the wedding.
5.) Mom knew I had been sick the past couple of days.
6.) Because of me, Mom knew the phone numbers of my closest friends.

Picture Scenario:

I had a rough night on Friday. Nic called but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Didn't get to bed until around 4:30AM. Slept in late on Saturday, because, despite my better judgment, I decided not to set an alarm. Woke up to very loud banging sound. Upon examining peephold, saw Nic standing outside my door.

"Crap," I think to myself, "was I suppose to meet her for something?"

Open door to be bombarded with a line of questioning to the tune of "Why haven't you been answering your phone?, Are you okay?, Do you know how worried your mother is? etc."

When seeing my completely puzzled look, Nic explained that my mom had called her, worried about me not answering her phone calls, and when Nic told her that I hadn't answered HER call the night before either, Mom lost it. She was about to drive to my apartment when Nic volunteered because she was only about 10 minutes away from me.

"Oh no," I cringed, "here we go again!" I asked Nic what time it was, she said 1:20PM (EEEK), then I look at my phone, which I had forgotten to switch off of vibrate, and see that I already have 7 missed calls.

Mom
Mom Cell
Sissy Cell
Nic

Great. Just perfect. So I call up Moms and get a proper ass-chewing of large proportions...phrases I've heard many times before in my short 24 years:

"Do you know how sick you're making me?"
"Do you ever THINK?"
"How irresponsible are you?"
"When someone calls you, answer your phone!"
"How can you be so STOOOOpid?"

And so on.

It ruined my day so much, and seeing as how my mom had picked up my dress for me without me asking because she knew the place was closing (normally a nice thing, but not when she holds it over your head), there was no way I was swallowing my pride and going to pick it up from her. No. Way. So no wedding in a beautiful dress for MOH. (Lucky for me my best guy friend is getting married in January, so I can wear it then!)

On Sunday, Mom called to apologize, but I was still quite heated about the whole thing and tried to explain to her that I was 24 years old, and had moved out to be on my OWN, and not under the watchful eye of Mother with every step I take, every move I make (oh yes, she'll be watching me.)

That spawned a whole other level of lecture from her, most of which I caught every other word while I impatiently hung the phone from my jaw, rolling my eyes for no one to see. I ended up hanging up on her after she'd asked me if I wanted to come out to the house that day. No, it wasn't the most sensitive and mature thing to do, but then, neither is blaming your adult daughter for your current illnesses.

I'm sure things will get patched up, they always do. My mom and I can fight something awful, but we have a bond that will never be severed, no matter how much I would like for it to be at times. I suppose it's true what they say: I'll know when I have kids. Poor things, I feel SO sorry for them!

Completely Random Thought: How many of y'all remember the movie Flowers in the Attic? I loved that movie when I was a kid. I'm sick and twisted like that.

Oh, and a speical thanks to HOT (aka: Him Over There, aka: Darling) for calming down my very frazzled nerves when I needed him the most. For being a long distance boyfriend, he sure is the best boyfriend I've ever had. He has a wonderful way of soothing me, which is no easy task when i'm so wound up.

It's 4 in the morning here in the great state of Texas. So why am I still up? Glad you asked (by way of me...asking myself...for you...whatever, go with it).

Well, amongst having a pretty down week, I decided that tonight would be a stay-in night, as I'm still not up to par in my wellness, and frankly, I haven't gotten a night in by myself in a while! What did I decided to do then, to pass the time away? I finished off Season 1 and 2 of The Office (the BBC version).

I couldn't be more upset. Seriously.

I won't talk about it because I'm sure there are people like me out there, who, after watching the American version think to themselves "I want to see where this originated!" and I don't want to spoil anything. I will say that, although many of the plotlines and siutations are similar, the American version and British version vary in several ways.

I have fallen in (t.v.) love with Jim, the American counterpart of Tim from the BBC version. Actually, I may have a bit more of a soft spot for Tim. He's quiet, but knows how to use his clever sense of humor, dry wit, and practical jokes at just the perfect time. He's loving in the most gentle way. Jim is the same way, although they mask his romantic feelings for Pam a bit more in the American version (I think).

Anyway, I am ending my night after having a good cry because of this show. And now I'm left with a very empty feeling because I KNOW there are no more episodes for me to watch. I'm STUCK knowing how it ended. And I'm *not* happy. I may write a strongly-worded letter.

And what's more...what do I do when Season 3 begins??? I'm already panicking.

I had to watch the DVDs with English subtitles. I would normally see this as a sad, sad confession, but c'mon! No one could understand Finch! ...Yes, yes, I know...I'd never get along in the UK very well. I'm coming to grips with this.

So, that's all I've got kiddies. Sorry to disappoint. But *I* was disappointed tonight, so I believe I'm projecting here. Time for bed.

P.S. to Nic--I know you're mad at me for doing this, but trust me, I'll want to watch them again.

I was in the shower, thinking and washing (it's where I do all my good thinking), and as my mind darted from thought to thought (there were many for tonight), it eventually settled on a particularly disturbing blog entry I'd read earlier.

Hers was a random blog that I happened upon, and basically followed the adolescent angst-ridden patter of "I [expletive] hate my [expletive] parents. They're ruining my [expletive] life and I want to [expletive] die. Thank God for my boyfriend."

Ah, there are so many dangerous things in that small entry, but that's besides the point. The point is, she was probably all of 16 years old.

I have kept a written diary ever since I was 7 years old. My first entry read something like this:

"Dear Diary,
Today is Christmas. Santa came and brought us lots of stuff. I got:
A ring, an Etch-O-Sketch, a Lite Brite, Connect Four, some clothes, (etc.), oh, and I got YOU! (yes, i talked to my diary). I need to figure out a name so I can stop calling you "You"!" (My diary went through SEVERAL names).

Hey, I was only 7.

But as I grew older, I documented every single event of significance that occurred. From fights with and between my parents, to confessions of childhood naughty business, to our move from one small town to another--it was all in the pages of my blue diary (complete with lock and key).

Later, as I grew older and filled up the pages of Diary #1, I began to write about more mature (for my age, ahem) events. Words like "I love Anthony Pruske" and "Why do I have to look so ugly" covered the back and front of the now spiral-bound, more sophisticated journal. It was here I penned entries about how much my parents just didn't get me, friends who had wronged me, and crushes who had, well, crushed me.

Advancing in age, I graduated to an even more sophisticated journal that had something like "...for the insomniac" on the cover, which was very fitting at the time. I journeyed into high school, and because I was simply too cool to write, there isn't much documented about those 4 years. Just as well, cheerleading and the few friends I still am close with were the only good things that came out of it.

Second semester of Senior year had me begin a new journal, one just for Holly. It was there I would write to her, cry for her, mourn for her, yell at her, and laugh with her. That one never really got filled up.

Next journal was all about the first years of college and an ex-boyfriend, my first SUPER serious one. Fights and sweet gestures were written merely pages from one another, and I often go back and read about how stupid I was to fight with him about such nonsense (or, how I STILL feel I was right about that ONE argument...)

Once forth journal was filled, #5 tracked Apartment Life and Love Triangles. Among other things that are better left unsaid.

And I have been stuck on #6 for a while now. I had concluded that my busy schedule simply did not permit me time to write. With Grad school, work, practicum, and Comprehensives staring me square in the face, I hadn't time to sit down and write about how stressed I was, because the amount of time I spent jotting down my stresses would have caused more anxiety! ("Journaling!!! Lanette, you idiot. You have a paper due on EMDR in 4 hours! AND YOU HAVEN'T STARTED YET!").

I have always found writing to be extremely therapeutic. But do you want to know the biggest reason why I kept it up (well, as I reached a level of cognitive development that could spawn such a reasoning)? I want to be able to show my kids one day that YES, I (Mom, the uncoolest person in the world) DID in fact suffer the trials and tribulations you are agonizing over right now. (I'm preparing my arguments now, always be one step ahead, I figure.)

It was then I turned to online journaling. I started solidly (I had a few failed attempts at a blog) with a LiveJournal. It was very convenient, this online stuff. I could update whenever I was at a computer, which gave me easy access considering I was around computers 80% of my days. I'm a much quicker typer than I am writer (I have a thing about neat handwriting, even if no one sees it but myself), and I could make fun formatting changes.

After the fiasco that was breaking up with my crazy ex, I decided that I would turn a new leaf, and therefore, create a new journal recording my fresh start. So far, I think it's working out rather well. I'm pretty disciplined about keeping updated. However, there are a few downsides:

1.) I can't say everything I want to. Yes, I know it's my blog, but I can't very well write down everything I'm feeling, every rant I want to go on, or every action I do because it wouldn't be kosher. Despite the vast assembly of accepting readers, I don't feel I can bear my soul entirely, like I can when I write.

2.) I feel a bit of anxiety to "perform" when I blog. Sure, what I write is my own, but I spend more time than I should, editing, formatting, and worrying about the comprehensiveness of my posts (like right now, I'm thinking "Is comprehensiveness a word? Or did I just make that up? I should look it up." Too much thinking!). Normally, I do a stream-of-consciousness form of writing, which is extremely therapeutic. (On the upside: editing my posts has given me a chance to grow and REALLY see what's worth my troubles and energies).

3.) I just straight up miss writing. There was something special to me, there always was, about sitting down with my journal, pen in hand, just busting at the seems to "get this off my chest". Sure, there is that "Phew" feeling I get after I blog, but it's just not the same. I can't take my monsterous computer to Starbucks, sip Peppermint Hot Chocolate, and people-watch as I type. Just not the same.

Well, Lanette, get thee to writing then, says you. Ah, not so easy, says I (suddenly I'm a pirate. Nar.) I have found that my attention span for anything non-computer related (journaling) that COULD be computer produced (via blog) has diminished significantly. Which saddens me.

Where has all the journaling gone? How is it now that 12 year old pre-pubescent children can access www.imyoungandeverythinghatesme.blogspot.com and type their fears and worries away? Don't they want some private time to say what they mean? Don't they want to curse their parents and love their first crushes within the confines of whisper-thin pages? Don't they want something EASY for their siblings to find? I mean, the chance of Little Sister happening upon their Older Sister's blog by clicking "next blog" is just as great as Britney Spears ever redeeming her dignity.

I cry for today's youth, and thank God that I wasn't young when "BLOGS" boomed. Everyone needs to write. That's just my humble opinion.

Gah, I'm OLD.

I find it amazing how other people can help you grow and serve as a catalyst to self-discovery.

I’ve never been good at “rising above it” when someone wrongs me. But, due to recent events concerning a bitter ex-boyfriend, I have had to learn to be that kind of person. I couldn’t have done it without a great deal of help, which I am very appreciative for, because if D hadn’t been there to make me see the bigger picture, I would have looked just as foolish as the source of my irritations.

I guess this is the part called “maturity” in grown-up life. I don’t know about you, but I have a knee-jerk reaction to automatically respond in the way I see fit when I am disrespected. After all, they shouldn’t get away with that!

But I realized that in past experiences, I would do anything I could to rouse a reaction out of the person with which I longed to communicate. I didn’t care if it was a reaction of anger; I just wanted to know that they were LISTENING to me. I wanted to know that I still got under their skin and that they cared enough about my presence to respond to my desperate attempts at keeping myself on their radar. Sometimes, it would work. But one particular time, it didn’t, and I was never more pissed off.

So, the secret is: If you want a childish someone who’s provoking you to react and blatantly lying about you to leave you be—don’t respond to them. And that will drive them batty for a while, until they finally get the hint that you’ve moved on, and then they do so themselves (one would hope).

I understand fully how hard this is to do, and not everyone will have an ally in their corner coaching them, calming them down and keeping things straight, as I did . But it will be most beneficial in the end to put this into practice.

I believe I am a much better person for this decision to rise above the immaturity, but could not have reached it on my own. I am thankful for the people in my life that keep me grounded, sane, and unbelievably happy!

Bah. I'm sick. And it hurts. But I'm in a wonderful mood.
Working full-time definitely has it's advantages. The accumulation of sick days affords you the opportunity to call in whenever you're under the weather, as I did today. They also allow you the opportunity to spend that one extra day with a certain out-of-town visitor if you don't have enough personal and vacation days saved up. But I do, so we're good to go.

Because I was sick today, I got the chance to spend some quality time with my D. We had some wonderful conversations, laughed a great deal, and did a bit of December planning. He made me feel better than any medications I was prescribed.

I know I have to go back to work tomorrow, but I'm extremely thankful for the day I had today. Even if it was at the expense of my poor body.


Question: What's everyone doing for Halloween? And do you have any good costume suggestions for me?

I just changed the format of my blog...ALL BY MYSELF!! Who's proud of me? C'mon, who's proud?

Added me some links and threw a few of y'all on my sidebars as well (hope you're not minding).

And I did this all on a sleepy pill (my body decided to go ahead and break on me, so I'm not sleeping well tonight without it).

Sidenote: As Darling pointed out before, the fantastic thing about BlogPatrol is that you can see everyone who visits your blog on a daily (hell, hourly) basis, in addition to how many times on those particular days these people frequent your blog. Just thought I would throw this friendly reminder and kindly ask that YOU* stop reading.

*YOU know who you are.

I had been stumped as to what to write next in this here blog. But, upon composing an unnecessarily long email to my Darling, I found the subject: The blissful event that is A Wedding.

I love weddings. I know a good handful of you would groan at the sight of a frilly invitation sneaking its way into your mailbox (or "post", for you over there), but I go against the norm when it comes to this.

Flashback to 2003. What a busy year. Not only was I graduating from undergrad, I was also involved in two weddings a mere week apart from each other. First was my sister and brother in law's, the second was a childhood best friend's a week later. The hustle and bustle of buying bridesmaids dresses, having them altered, getting my incredibly long hair tortured and up-doed (because of which, I now have a hatred of bobby pins), creating extraordinay pew decorations, and calming my sissy down, I hadn't the time to just ENJOY the events. Some 5 months later, I found myself in my cousin's wedding somehow (I think it had to do with the fact that there were more groomsmen than bridesmaids at the time, and my cousin wanted to "keep it in the family" so POOF, there I was. Whatever, I still got to wear a pretty dress... ).

Cut to March of 2005. I'm at my cousin's wedding. Now, there's something to be said of this marriage, as it was a milestone in MY life as well (and we all know that the universe does, in fact, revolve around me). See, I thought my cousin, Chris, and I had an understanding. I thought we had this unspoken agreement between us that went something like this: YOU WILL NOT GET MARRIED UNTIL I AM AT LEAST ENGAGED. He broke that accord (okay, so maybe it was just something I created, but still...he's my favorite cousin, he should have KNOWN this stuff).

So, I knew what was to come. It's the customary, rote dialog that is spewed at me: clockwork.

Drunken Relative: "So, another one gone, eh, Lanette?"

Bitter Me: "Looks that way, Uncle _______."

DR: "So..."

BM: [cringing in wait]

DR: "When are we gonna be seeing YOU walking down that aisle?"

BM: [feigning polite laughter] "Oh, you know...I guess I'd first have to get a boyfriend."

DR: "Now, how does a pretty girl like you NOT have a boyfriend?" [Generic attempt to boost
my self esteem].

BM: "Gee, Uncle _______, I guess I just haven't found the right guy yet."

DR: "Well, no one's gonna be good enough for OUR baby." [Gives sloppy, half-drunk kiss on cheek]

BM: "I suppose not!"

DR: "Well, I'll tell you this, if I were 20 years younger..."

BM: [Nervous laughter] "HahahaaaaOkay, say, I'm gonng go get a drink now"

DR: "Mmm, a drink'll hit the spot!" [stumbles off to Open Bar]

And thus, you have the conversation I face at EVERY relative's wedding. Now, I know my family means well, but there's only SO MANY times you can hear this spiel before you die a little inside. At least, with my last cousin's wedding done, I won't be subjected to this torture for a while. Now, if my 13 year old second cousin passes me up, I'm going to have to change my views of weddings.

Despite all this, I have remained unjaded, and still find a wedding an exciting event. Tomorrow I am going to a wedding for 2 people I don't even know. One of the girls from work's brother is getting married, and she wants friends there she knows, so me and Nic(orina) will be crashing it. Complete with our flashy (but well concealed) flasks of liquor (as it's not an open bar). I have a very gorgeous dress to wear (compliments of this friend), and I'm excited to get all DOed up and have a fun time with great friends. We've even contemplated the idea of calling a cab to take us to and from the wedding and reception, so we can get properly boozed (although not so much to warrant a hangover the next morning) and still be safe.

I remember The Actress telling me once about how her and Significant Other of the Actress attended a wedding together. Now, I don't remember if they didn't know the people well or if there were other circumstances that kept them cuddled up in a corner table together, but I recall her telling me what a fun time they had. They would make fun of people, talk about those around them, Significant Other would practice his best "Tom Anderson" (Tom?) impression, and they would just sit back and have long conversations about nothing and everything at once.

Upon hearing this story at the time, I envisioned myself in the same situation, with my unknown significant other. I imagined how wonderful it would be to play the event off as our own (cheap) date. You know...both of us getting dressed nicely, him picking me up, both of us attending the wedding (me secretly planning ours at the same time: "I would have pink roses instead of red ones up there at the alter", etc.). Afterwards, driving to the reception talking about how nice the wedding was, but did YOU think it a bit strange when the bride sang to her groom, or did you notice the ring bearer picking his nose and later tasting the sample he'd collected?

At the reception, we nervously hold hands, searching for SOME familiar face, but upon finding none, we retreat to a lesser known table in the corner, where thankfully, no one bothers to sit with us. Over a good meal and even better free drinks, we proceed to get happily buzzed and strike up humorous conversation, with long glances shared here and there that have such a romantic air about them that they make both our hearts stop beating for a split-second.

A song is put on by the DJ of a slower nature, and due to our tipsy state, we brave the public stares and make our way to the dancefloor. In time, we are simultaneously swaying to the beat, wrapped up in each others arms, a stolen kiss here and there. Once our romantic urges are satisfied, we saunter off hand-in-hand back to our secluded table for cake and conversation.

All dancing and drinking done, we head home, quite at times and staring out the windows at the night sky. At home, well...that's for my imagination only.

And so that's how I see it played out. A bit over the top and beyond reality? Maybe, but I'd like to think not.

I hope that one day I get to share this experience with someone I truly love, because I think it would be one of those times we could both look back on and say, "I fell in love with you a little more that night."

Sidenote: A visit to the previous post would explain how I daydream in such detail.

Debi recently posted something that was most heartwarming. Read the 2 part story to find something that satiates the cravings of a true hopeless romantic.

I'm not quite sure how I became this Hopeless Romantic. I have no idea how I developed to be a lover of sappy girly movies, someone who can picture her future with her husband by listening to a single maudlin song, or a girl who will watch a movie repeatedly, just because it reminds her of her love so far away.

I mean, my parents were "normal" (although, in Psychology, they teach you that "normal" is a relative term). They weren't super affectionate with each other, and have even spent the last several years on a very rocky path, teetering between tolerating and hating each other. And my sissy? Well, she was so scarred from underdeveloped social skills from the shoddy town we grew up in that she didn't even date until her Junior year of college.

I guess it all began with Anthony Pruske. Ah, my first love. You know, he was that guy that made me hurt in my heart because I truly wanted to be with him. It was 6th grade, yeah, but you never forget your first love. (Although later, he found out I liked him, asked me out for a joke [kept secret from me], then had his best friend call my answering machine 4 days later to break up with me. Our "relationship" ended with my whole family hearing the message before I did. Yep, gave him all kind of crap for that a few years later, when he expressed interest in me...)

Anyway, I suppose from then on I was hooked on this magical mystery called LOVE. I may have gone through a time when I was a bit pessimistic and cynical about romance, but I never fully renounced it (hmm...kinda like my faith in God). And it was worth it. Let me tell you, it was well worth it.

In conclusion: as long as there are writers that keep creating mushy romantic comedies, as long as there are singers that croon about unrequited love, and as long as there's a certain boy that fuels my *profound* thoughts all day long, I will remain a lifelong member of the Hopeless Romantic faction.


Sidenote: I saw an episode of In Living Color tonight. Wow, I used to LOVE that show. I've seen it offered on DVD, y'know, the box sets? Thinking of buying them, riiiight after I purchase The O.C. (season 1 and 2). Someday... they will be mine.

So, that's it.

Darling has bought his ticket to the Lone Star State. I can't wait until he arrives. Then, and only then, will you see me the happiest I have ever been, and could ever be.

Now it's really, really real. It's really going to happen. How did I get to be this lucky? Maybe it's not luck. Maybe I'm just blessed.

Mmmkay.

So I thought I wanted colder weather. I mean, it was October 5th for Heaven's sake, and we were at 90 degrees still! But all I wanted was a bit of a chill in the air. Not a complete 180 to Winter. But alas, we have no Fall or Autumn here in the Lone Star State...just mild and spicy hot. Today, however, marks the first day of me not blasting the air conditioning in my apartment or sweating on my way home from work, and the first day I rummaged around in my closet for something long-sleeved. You know what this means, though, don't you? Colder air = Darling Visit Time getting closer!

Things have just been off the wall crazy. I spoke too soon about no longer being the Data Entry Girl, as that's ALL I did today, from 8:30 to 4:30 helping out on an asthma intervention project. Because of 8 solid hours of nothing but Excel and really poor handwriting, I had a massive headache that only increased in strength when I couldn't find my car in the parking garage (does anyone else get SUPER confused by those things...levels and whatnot?). All I wanted to do was come home and relax, talk to my Darling, watch some t.v....unfortunately, this was not going to happen for 2 reasons:

1.) My friend Ximena has recently gotten engaged but failed to tell anyone at work because her fiance does not have her ring yet. As I found this out today, she also informed me that they were going out to dinner with her parents so her fiance could tell her father (yes...weird for 2 reasons. A.) Shouldn't he have asked first and B.) Shouldn't he STILL ask and not TELL the dad? Like my sub-categories?). She asked me to go over and do her hair, which, how could I say no on an important day like this? So, despite my utmost unwant to go anywhere, I pulled off the job rather nicely. I can always rely on being a hair stylist.

2.) Nic's brother was in town. She convinced him to come here after his attempts to nurse a broken heart had failed. There's nothing like a bit 'o Nic and Laney to get him back on his feet. He's a good, funny kid, he'll be back in no time. So we had dinner. After that, I bought 3 DVDs for $20. I seriously think I have a DVD purchasing obsession.

So, after a very long day, I have finally come home to relax in my bed and catch up on shows I've taped throughout the week. Some idiot scheduled a brunch tomorrow at Madhatter's Tea House and Cafe at 10:30AM...on a Saturday? Who could have...oh wait, it was ME! But, who's going to deny Disappearing Bennies?

The rest of my weekend will consist of a visit to the parents, playing with Noie, time with my D, and catching up on sleep! I thought I was supposed to be this busy when I was 18 and still had the stamina for it!

For your viewing pleasure*, here are more pictures my Darling took for me today when he was...ahem...out and about. Enjoy!


Isn't this just beautiful? Even on a dreary day, it's still the place I most want to be right now.






And here's the London Eye. This is one of the places I'm most looking foward to visiting with D. You just don't really see anything like that here. Or maybe I just don't get out much.




A view behind Waterloo Bridge: apparently, that's the dome of St. Paul's, and you can just see, in the distance, the reason why that there building is nicknamed "The Erotic Gherkin" by Londoners.





This photo was taken from the south bank of the Thames. Or so I'm told. Big Ben is in the background. I love how it all looks so majestic. The buildings there look marvelous. Someday I shall see for myself.







*Special thanks to my D for sending these lovely snapshots!

I have never been one to have complete confidence in myself. I know that, when put to the test on any given project, I will pull through with a great deal of success...but would I have thought that before the project was laid in my lap? Absolutely not.

I have inherited the very pesky gene of "perfectionism" from my mother. Now, mine is scaled down quite a bit (thankfully), but it's there nonetheless. So, when I feel I am not able to do a project in a perfect manner, I will gladly pass it up. I can't deal with failure. That's why I was okay with my initial position at work.

I've been working at my job at this particular Health Science Center since June of 2003. It saw me through 3 very bad breakups, a death in the family, and a very stubborn toe fungus. This job is where I have met my best friends, and has actually provided me with a life OUTSIDE of work, as ironic as that is. However, for so long, I was "the Data Entry Girl".

You know her. You have her in your office. She's the quickest fingers on the 10 key this side of [enter your state here]. She can flip through paperwork without Tacky Finger and be not papercut. She can almost predict the numbers that will appear on the endless stacks of surveys before her. Numbers are her life.

This was me until June 1st, 2005. I was promoted to Social Science Research Associate II, a position which bumped me up from Data Entry Girl to Project Coordinator. It's a much esteemed position with more pressing responsibilities, such as database management and statistical analyses. Yes, I make more money. But what about my roots, my origins...what about the data entry?

I need not worry. Part of my SSRA II responsibilities include data entry, so I don't stray too far from where I began. I can still have my comfort zone. I don't want that corporate "big head" that so many other "big wigs" have. Nope, not me. I stay grounded, focused, and aware of my humble beginnings.

However, today was a milestone in my HSC career. I attended my first "Project Coordinators" meeting. Now, it's true that I have been a coordinator since June, but I've never felt it was my place to attend their meetings or participate in their activities. After all, wasn't I JUST the "data entry girl"?

But today, my boss (who happens to be the Principal Investigator for project I am the Project Coordinator on; it's a hierarchy thing) explained to me that yes, I should be in attendance because yes, I WAS the coordinator. So, I stepped into the conference room, as well as into some rather large shoes I must now fill. I have now acknowledged that I am an integral part of this company, and that my place here IS valued. Sure, it was before because, without the Data Entry Girl, you can't very well get your data entered. But that takes the skills of a high schooler. To be a Coordinator...well, that's a horse of a different color. So today, I *finally* began to feel valued at my work, simply because I now realized that yes, I DO have an important role!

Somewhat of a bland entry, but it was a profound* thought I had today.

Well, that thought, along with the horrific dream I had last night, and a very real email sent to me from my Darling, that seemed to have caused me to like him even more because it showed that he trusts me.

*Profound: Not in the way you're thinking, D.

***********************************
In relation to my previous post, my Darling brought to my attention another location we MUST visit when I'm over there. It's just about the sweetest thing I've seen!






It's called a "Kissing Gate". The story is, a man may go through the V shape entry way and through the actual gate, but he will demand a kiss from his lady before he will let her through.








It's a very antiquated tradition, I'm sure, but anyone who knows me understands that I'm ALL about tradition. I can just imagine a nice stroll through some countryside, happening upon a Kissing Gate, and sharing a meaningful kiss with my Darling as we continue to walk, hand-in-hand, and enjoy each other all the more.

I can hardly wait!

May 2006 will mark my first overseas adventure. I will be traveling to wonderful Britland (more specifically, London) to spend time with my Darling. Because he is coming here in December, I decided that I would return the traveling favor by joining him during the spring (and, by *pure* chance, be there for my birthday!)

D and I have also discussed a possible trip to beautiful Ireland, one of the top 5 places on my "To Vist Before I Die" list. I'm not too sure what drew me to Ireland, but there has been a longing in my very soul to visit this land. Just look at how beautiful it is!And so you are now clued into my itinerary, as dictated (gladly) by D, who knows so much! I must say, I will have the best tour guide that Jolly Old London has to offer. It's just a perk that he "fancies" me as well!

<--Additionally, I would like to visit here...

...and here as well.

And there you have it. Should anyone have any further suggestions or comments, please, do feel free! As the months pass by, I shall eagerly await my overseas adventure. Despite all the beauty and culture, I find that it may not be those things that prove most significant of my time spent abroad. No, the highlight of my trip will be the company that I keep...that keeps me. Memories to be made and never forgotten.

Now, I just need to get me a passport...

**Much of the text providing histories and descriptions of above landmarks are credited to D. I only changed words like "the" or "and". I'm THAT good.

Received this email from a friend. Had to share.

Dear Tech Support,

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a slow down in the overall performance, particularly in the flower and jewelry applications that had operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0. In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5, but installed undesirable programs such as NFL 5.0 and NHL 3.0. And now Conversation 8.0 no longer runs and Housecleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I've tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail. What can I do??

Desperate

Dear Desperate,

First keep in mind Boyfriend 5.0 is an entertainment package, while Husband 1.0 is an operation system. Try to enter the command C:/I THOUGHT U LOVED ME and download Tears 6.2 to install Guilt 3.0. If all works as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewelry 2.0 and Flowers 3.5. But remember, overuse can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Beer 6.1. Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will create Snoring Loudly.WAV files. Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-In-Law 1.0 or reinstall another Boyfriend program. These are not support applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have a limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider buying additional software to improve memory and performance. I personally recommend Hot Food 3.0 and Lingerie 6.9 Good luck!

Tech support

Delicious.

Yes, well.

I have recently been turned on to this World of Blogging (WOB, if you will), and have decided that, no, my current LiveJournal just ISN'T as exciting. Ex-Boyfriend turned me onto LiveJounal, as he had one, so I figure that's reason enough to get rid of it.

I just love to see how people that you've never even known existed can comment on these words that you write. Call me crazy, but I *like* knowing what other people have to say about my sometime dramatic, oftentimes boring, and yet completely fulfilling life.

So, goodbye LiveJournal and hello Mr. Blog! I can't promise a novella fit for Lifetime Television, but I CAN promise the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (Or so help me....!)

Some Blog Resolutions (ahem):

• No more boring "this is what I'm going to do today, hour by hour" posts. No, that just won't do.
• A bit of mystery now and again.
• Cut down on the freaking marathon posts I manage to spit out (although, it's not my fault. It's COLLEGE's fault for turning me into the world's best bullshitter)
• Make more Blogger friends (so please, feel free to post)

That being said, I shall tell you a bit about myself (a bit "first date"esque, no?). My name...well, it starts with an "L" and is not too often heard. I hail from Texas (has often been referred to as "The United States of Texas", I guess to hint at our pride for our state. I'm not *that* bad, I just love it here. Sue me.). I graduated from Graduate School and obtained my Master's Degree in Community Counseling, with the hopes of one day finishing out my plans of becoming an LPC (Licensed Professional Counselor). I had to leave my Safe College Bubble, however, when all that was left for me was a PhD, so now you'll find me at my job at our university's Health Science Center (where I've been for nearly 3 years, but always part-time). I thoroughly enjoy going to work for 8 hours, then being FREE for the rest of my day and weekends. No tests, not papers, no projects, no groups with slacking members to pull weight for...just ME time.

Well, ME and my boyfriend time. Yes, I suppose I technically have one (I call him my boyfriend, "Darling" to you anyway). We "met" in an unorthodox manner, but I wouldn't have it any other way. He may make an appearance or two on here.

I have finally, FINALLY proved my independence from the Safety Umbrella I call my parents, and am living on my own in a very quaint apartment. Every sound makes me jump. But...I'm...IndePENdent...so I live with it.

I have only recently found my best friends (they LIE about the fact that you "make your best friends in college". No you don't. Not if you go to a "commuter" college and bury yourself in an unappreciative boyfriend for the majority of your Undergraduate career. Blah.). I find myself actually BUSY and longing for some alone time, which is weird coming from the girl who used to dread weekends because it meant finding out just how alone she was.

Three of my best friends no longer live within walking distance of my home. (I hope he doesn't mind me being a copy cat, but I'm going to steal Boyfriend's idea and give names to all my friends. It's more fun that way. I used to *hate* when people would copy me, though...). So, The Example is currently serving God in Israel, and proving her couraged (sponsered by Mr. Almighty) by stepping on buses that take her to terroritst checkpoints and whatnot. The Actress is currently in Washington, D.C., living a life I have always dreamed of. The Vet is currently following her dream of becoming a veterinarian all the way to St. Kitts in the Caribbean.

So, that's me in a nutshell (cue Austin Powers quote here). Hope y'all enjoy. I know *I* will.

To put a face with a (blog) name, here's me. I'm narcissistic that way.