Another weekend down--my last weekend before my pilgrimage to Minnesota this weekend. In preparation for my upcoming jaunt, this weekend was filled with a large amount of consumption (of alcohol, that is).

Friday was the new Friday on Friday. I went to see IS2 and the great metro of Killeen was hopping--literally every restaurant (and there are quite a few) had a 1 hour wait. Not the Quizno's, though!

Friday evening was spent watching Top Gun, everyone's favorite homoerotic Navy movie and quoting appropriate lines when necessary ("Goose, you big stud!"). Can you ever get enough Top Gun?

Saturday IS2 and IS1 went to see Miami Vice which was only worthwhile because of the offshore boating scene. My new current obsession is offshore boating/offshore fishing. I wish I was a millionaire just so I could buy a fast boat and haul butt across the ocean and do some fishing. Apparently I'm not the only one.

Some guys have everything.
After watching MV, IS2 decided his new obsession would become mojitos, which are discussed briefly in the movie. So we went and purchased the ingredients requied for a mojito (namely rum, mint, club soda, sugar, and limes). I also managed to find actual real sugar cane in the Kileen HEB, which I was pretty impressed by.

I tried my hand at "winging it" with the mojito recipe, however IS2 decided to veto my mojito and he started over with a recipe in hand. His were a lot better--the key apparently is mucho jugo de limon. We also tried putting a shot of KillaPete's Bacardi Raz rum in there, and it turned out pretty good--kind of a fruitier mojito (not that there's anything wrong with that). We then watched the rest of the episode of What Not To Wear that we had DVR'ed from earlier. It was this girl who was 22 years old but looked like she was about 45. Fascinating.

Yesterday I headed back to the A and met up with my Girl Sunday, aka Christina, aka Beautiful Girl B. We went to the mall in what I like to refer to as my "temporary reinvention," in readiness for my trip to MSP. We found some daecent "mature yet innocent" clothes and I only ran into 2 people from my high school while we were there. Interestingly enough, one of them had broken OFF her engagement from the last time I ran into her--also at the mall--and the other one had gotten engaged since the last time I ran into her--also at the mall.

The original plan had been to hit up Barton Springs post-mall, but after exhausting myself mentally and physically with trying on clothes, shoes and alter-egos, we decided that we ought to blow off BS and head straight to Margaritaville--aka, Baby A's.

For those of you who don't know, Baby Acapulco's is yet another Austin tradition that offers good margaritas and queso, along with a great central location (it actually happens to be on Barton Springs Road, just down the street from Barton Springs the pool). They are famous (or infamous) for their purple margaritas, which you are only allowed to have two of because of their high alcohol content. We did not partake in the purple margs--however, somehow we still managed to have a good time.

When we got there, we noticed a man sitting on the edge of the outdoor patio wearing headphones and looking rather drunk. Then the waitress brought a margarita over to him, and I wondered how he was going to drink it. Turns out, he spilled more margaritas on himself than he actually drank from that point on.

A band called Blue Midnight started playing, doing mostly covers of obscure classic rock songs with little crowd reaction, until Chrissy and I would shout out requests (Brown Eyed Girl, My Girl, Joker, etc.). Then the crowd would actually get into their music, and we spent a short while telling them that they should let us write their set list from now on. Meanwhile the drunk guy moved over to the table to our left, directly in front of the band. He would start shouting, mid-song, "One-two-three-four!" and waving his hands, to which Kim, the bass guitarist, would respond "Five-six-seven-eight!" This didn't really help things at all. The manager came over and talked with the drunk guy for a while, then they started bringing him which I guess are the "perks" of being an unruly drunk in a restaurant--a "to-go" cup of water, a free taco, etc. He eventually was escorted out and placed in a cab --but not before I got a good picture.

Spam? Or Rib Eye?
Below is an email I got in my spam folder from "Nanny Castillo," with a subject titled "unwittingly."
Aside from some HTML ads about stockbrokers that I chose not to allow, was this body of text (which I actually read--and somewhat enjoyed!!):

He had trained it, probably bythe use of the milk which we saw, to return to him when summoned. I shall come down in a carriage to meet you. Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. I have a confused memory, too, of havingbeen lifted and conveyed somewhere. I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by thetable. I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful theywould be to me. It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one,Mr. Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. I wasconscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into thegarden below. But now, thanks to thislucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough. I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful theywould be to me. There is atrain from Paddington which would bring you there at about11:15. Isimply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine whichhas got out of gear. Thesame porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when Iarrived. I should like, however, tounderstand a little more clearly what it is that you wish me todo. I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered hisroom. The lampstill stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examiningthe trough. Perhaps you willhave the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can setit right. This has been done, said I, examining the wound, by a veryheavy and sharp instrument. Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. As I descended, myold ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the doortightly behind him. I dashed some brandy into the water,and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks. Here is a very fashionable epistle, I remarked as he entered. Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, whichhe unlocked. I was fortunate enough todiscover that there was a deposit of fullers-earth in one of myfields. Ihave lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and whathave I gained? said he carelessly, we have our own process. I know that clerks aresometimes curious as to their masters affairs. Becher a German, verythin, with a long, sharp nose? I have a confused memory, too, of havingbeen lifted and conveyed somewhere. said he carelessly, we have our own process. Butto my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither housenor garden were to be seen. He was plainly but neatlydressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty thanthirty. Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work,said the inspector. My guide stopped and looked abouther like one who is at her wits end. I am for west, remarked the plain-clothes man.

I'm almost afraid to change the subject, as I've had such great activity going on from my Mean(ingful) Advice column.

However, this link was certainly worth posting.

Aside from having mad skills like doing the grapevine and drinking copious amounts of Gatorade, I also freelance as an advice columnist. I encourage my loyal readers to send me your most hairy debacles and let me explain how to shave, wax or (maybe!) even grow your way out of trouble.

Read on...


-----Original Message-----
From: That Girl
Sent: Mon 7/24/06 1:45 PM
To: That Guy
Subject: Putting it all out there...

...because that's just what I do, for better or for worse.

1. I cannot force you to like me any more than I can force you to date
someone you work with.

2. I respect the fact that you do not date at work. I guess I just took
it personally and hoped you could make an exception for me. If only you
didn't have a 'wee little' brain. I hate to think that I am being
punished for your past that I had nothing to do with.

3. I'm sorry I slightly over-reacted last night. Uncalled for. The PMS
on top of the 2 margaritas didn't help break the news that you were
ending things before they even started. And you saying that while
leaning on me with your hands on me didn't help either. Again, it's the
hang up I have with the whole mixed signal thing. I let my emotions get
the best of me, again, for better or for worse.

4. I rarely meet 'good' guys. You are one of them. I'm just sorry you
won't give it a chance.

5. My two cents: Learn from your past, but do not let it dictate your
future. Take it for what it's worth. the whole two cents.

6. Another two cents: It's better to regret doing something than
regret not doing anything at all. Ok so there's four.

7. I would like to lower the little bit of pride I have left and maybe
be friends. Who knows, you might just change your mind about me ;)

8. I still think you are adorable and delightful.

I hope that helps clear the air. I'm not very good at this whole
dating-game stuff, I usually just tell it like it is. Have a great time
in LA.

That Girl

P.S We barely know each other, I'm sorry for jumping the gun. Let's
lighten this up a bit and try the friendship thing again, with clearer
expectations.
Please do not count the number of times I say 'again' and 'I'm sorry'.


-----Original Message-----
From: That Girl
Sent: Tuesday, July 25, 2006 9:10 AM
To: Mean Rachel
Subject: FW: Putting it all out there...

Dearest Mean Rachel,

In your analysis of these e-mails (read below), do you think he is
saying that there is 'no' chance we could ever date due to the work
thing? Or do you think he's saying he'd feel more comfortable getting to
know me, no expectations, and then maybe seeing where things went.

I would appreciate your well thought out analysis of the below
communications ;)

-That Girl

-----Original Message-----
From: That Guy
Sent: Monday, July 24, 2006 8:40 PM
To: That Girl
Subject: RE: Putting it all out there...

Hi.
Yes. It's true. I'm sorry, but I DO in fact have a wee little brain and
I just don't "get into" these situations very quickly. You're right in
that we don't know each other all that well, and the work thing
definitely gives me pause, too. It's something that I try not to get
myself into--but I never wanted you to think that you were being
"punished" for the way my brain works...i promise it's not at all
because of anything bad about you. it's just my own, (arguably,
irrational) hang ups that I've gotta learn to sort out. Sorry it's at
the expense of a cool chick. (that's you, by the way.) And very sorry
about the mixed signals thing...I'm sorta naive about the way I am
around girls sometimes. That doesn't excuse me...but maybe that
"explains" me? I'm horrible at the dating thing, too, which is why it
doesn't happen very often. Who knows. I'm rambling now.

BUT I am thinking that the "PS" part of your email is a great place to
be. Let's do that. Let's lighten this up a bit. This isn't Dawson's
Creek, 7pm Wednesdays on the WB, right? We don't need the well-scripted
drama. Let's do friends. Clear air. Clear expectations. Clear liquor and
tonic with a lime in the future.

-That Guy

p.s. I won't count your "agains" if you don't count my "sorries".

have a good week down in austin texas.

That Girl,

I think this is very promising. Not promising in the sense that you
will be playing smoochy-face with him tomorrow, but I do think that his
email speaks volumes about:

1. How he feels about you. The fact that he responded so soon and
didn't write back some one-liner about "it's not you, it's me" is pretty
encouraging. He obviously respects you, enjoys your company and sees
you as someone he can expose his flaws to.

2. How he feels about dating. He sounds like he hasn't dated
much--which is not a bad thing. This might even mean that he's a little
intimidated by you. If as many people know about your "history" as you
say they do, and if you put the whole RT thing out there to begin with,
he may be concerned not so much with having a big, crazy office romance
but more with not being enough "Pacey" to your "Joey" if you get my
drift. (Sorry, I couldn't stand to not continue on the DC storyline)
Seriously, though--you need to take it easy with this guy. He made a
reference to not dating much, which is huge--you need to pretty much
assume that this guy is the proverbial (perhaps not literal) virgin
territory until he proves it otherwise.

3. How he feels about himself. This ties in with number two--he
doesn't sound like a huge player, which I know you've already alluded
to. And that's great!! However, you cannot PLAY someone who is not a
player. You are actually going to have to step back and just let him be
your friend.
Let him come to you, let the chips fall where they may, etc. If you
continue to pursue him with "relationship" on your brain (even if it's
waaaaay in the back of your mind), you will end up scaring him off.

He has tackled the trifecta of a relationship in that email: you, him, and everything in between that would need to happen for you two to get
involved.
He has answered a lot of questions that more people should ponder before
leaping into a relationship.

There ya go. That'll be $175.

Mean Rachel

--
Dear Mean Rachel,

Thank you for your prospectus. I really appreciate your two cents...or
$175 (how bout I buy you a few drinks ;). It makes things much clearer,
and I almost feel better knowing this is all out in the open, no
guessing games. And you crack me up by the way, love you to pieces!!

Ok I'll cool off, I guess I was just hoping for some 'smoochy-face'
sooner rather than later, but if it's friends he wants, friends is what
he gets. He's a good guy, and well worth the wait to see if his
'wee-little' brain could handle something further with me. But it would
be silly to throw away what could be a good friendship just because he
won't kiss me. I will do my best to throw any notion of a relationship
out the window and focus on just getting to know him, I most certainly
do not want to scare him off. There are too few good guys left to
dismiss one of them based on a few hang-ups.

I didn't think to be flattered by the fact that he felt comfortable
enough to express his flaws to, as opposed to shutting down and blowing
me off. I will take that as a compliment to the kind of friend I can be
to him.

For now, I will focus my time and energy on me. How to relax, chill,
not get so caught up in what could/would/should be. I have a pretty good
life, with pretty damn good friends. Let's just all be merry, and pray
for Peace on Earth.

I love you! Thank you so much for your insight. You have truly
brightened my day.

That Girl

Yet another weekend leaves us, although this one felt satisfactorily-long, rather than zipping by as weekends sometimes tend to do.

I guess I should work my way backwards from today, starting with the fact that I am trying not to lose my cool with the Camden management team. Granted, they are currently providing "free" cable + HBO, which for some reason gives me a $10 discount on my cable bill, so I probably should try not to whine too much. However, I am getting frsutrated with the new automatic gate system they put into place. For the longest time, the "security" gate was open 24/7, even though we all had clickers that could open the gate if it happened to be closed (which it never was). I don't know if it was the timing that was off or if the clickers were just for show and they just kept the gate open all of the time, but the new management decided to put in a "proximity card" system where we wave a magnetic card by the box outside the gate on our way in.

Now, the gate is closed more than it is open and this creates a huge problem. Mainly because no one carries cards around with them, so even people like myself who may actually have a card, don't have it on them when they are with a friend. Chrissy brought me home from the lake today and we literally almost hit 2 cars and a person on our way in. First we sat there trying to dial an operator to let us in, but apparently that's an after-hours only thing. So I suggested she just go "in" the "out" gate when someone came out. Big mistake. First we almost got hit by someone backing out of the mail area, so that slowed down our drive through the gate. Because of this pause, we had to punch her Jetta through the gate as it started to close, and in the process nearly hit a pedestrian. When I say "nearly hit" I really just mean it made a lot of noise, squealing tires and the like, and the man literally JUMPED out of the way. It still probably could have been tried in court against us had we hit him, but I digress. We (or rather I) then realized the other peril of driving in the out--you are on a one-way street on a blind turn going the wrong way. This resutled in a beige Honda honking at us angrily--to which I couldn't help but wonder if the guy we nearly hit was freaking out at that sound.

Chrissy was bringing me back from our afternoon on Lake Austin. I hadn't been out there since I nearly drove Claire's ski boat into the cliffside when my 30-second tutorial on boat driving did not hold up to my 30-second reality of trying to actually drive the boat. We went out with our mutual friend (I'll explain in a moment) Josh Pells (warning: link to a tragically cliche bio page--with tragically cliche head-shot) and his cronies. Pells is this dude that we met on accident one night years back when Chrissy abandoned me in her illegaly-parked car in the middle of 4th Street outside Gingerman. I was lolling in the passenger's seat minding my own business, watching the 2 AM exodus leaving the bars. Suddenly! someone was pounding on my window.
This random dude's pickup line was "I've got a six-pack and my friend is Josh Pells." Now--it just so happens that he picked probably the one 20 year old in Austin who actually knew who Josh Pells was, at which point I started grilling him saying "I don't believe you." Sure enough, out of nowhere appears Josh Pells and a few other guys. Well, Christina returns from her pilgrimage to tell off the doorman at the Gingerman, and suddenly we got stuck talking to this random group of men.
Somehow Christina continued a friendship with Pells yet thankfully today's venture did not include any of the original dudes from the first time I met Pells. The lake was nice--not freezing cold and not too busy, strangely enough.
We then hitched a ride back to the County Line on 2222, which is where we got on the boat, from a family of (I'm not exaggerating) seven from Australia. I talked up my job, spoke the gospel, and Chrissy giggled the whole time about the situation.

Yesterday, IS2 cooked up some kebobs on the grill, with the grill-lighting help of Killa/Sleazy Pete (depending on whom you are talking to). I proposed that we prepare corn on the cob to go along with the meal, and used their book How To Grill as a guide for how to grill the corn. The author, Steven Raichlen, suggested pulling the husks back and tying them with butcher's string to use as a handle fo holding the corn. When I pointed this out to IS2, he replied in typical IS2 fashion, "What a pretentious prick." So I went ahead and completely shucked the corn and prepared garlic butter--IS2 used the garlic press I bought for him after watching him nearly slice off his finger while cutting up garlic last time. I doused the corn in the butter and when the grill was ready Killa/Sleazy Pete said "Just throw 'em on."
So we THREW the 5 cobs onto the far right burner and immediately, the whole house nearly went up in flames. At one point Killa Pete said "I think we're making popcorn." So we turned off the burner and once the cobs stopped being on fire, we pulled them off. However, apparently the garlic butter did the trick because it was unanimously agreed that I had finally achieved the right taste and consistency in grilling the corn. So it will from now on be known as "Rachel's 30-Second Corn."

That's right--Rachel Ray may have 30-Minute Meals but I have 30-Second Sides.

A few Wikipedia and Limewire searches later, IS2 and I put in a DVD of The Deer Hunter and settled in for a nice, depressing evening of Nam nostalgia.

Wow. I had never seen that movie before ("Is that a movie? Then I haven't seen it.") and frankly, it put all of the other Nam movies I have seen--and I've seen a few--to shame. The first hour is dedicated to DeNiro and Walken's characters and their lives as steel-mill workers in PA. At first it's a little bit tedious--I remember thinking that it wasn't a very powerful film and in fact considered suggesting we give up on the movie. However it takes a pretty bad movie for me to walk out (Freddie Got Fingered, anyone?), and I figured I could at least continue to eyeball Walken a little bit longer.

There is a lot of talk during the "back-home" scenes, when they're attending a huge wedding and out hunting, of the threesome's impending tour. However, once it's time for them to leave, there is no segue. One moment we're in a wet, dirty basketball court with DeNiro and Walken waxing poetically on America, and then suddenly we cut to Vietnam.
My first thoughts at that poor transition were that it was badly edited. The movie delivered a sharp slap in the face--we're suddenly watching a Vietcong pepper a woman and her infant with bullets--without any warning. There was no "we're in the Army now" scene of men getting their uniforms and buzz cuts, nor was there really any long, expansive shot of Vietnamese countryside. However, I imagine now that Cimino did this on purpose--really, how can you prepare anyone for a scene like that? In reality, how can you prepare yourself for war? There isn't really a smooth transition in there.

Then we have the Russian Roulette scenes. I have been trying to figure out when in my lifetime I have seen a movie that filled me with such tension. My heart was pounding. The pace of the first roulette scene is incredible--the empty pop of the bulletless chamber, the guard slapping the prisoner while screaming "Now!", the whimpering of John Savage's character Steven, the camera angles shot up through the slats above the prisoners in the cages below, the horrifying faces of death--there really was a seamless quality about it, an unpredictableness of what was going to happen next even though it was a planned scene.

Without spoiling the ending for anyone who might not have seen this movie, it's an incredibly disturbing film. From the second hour on (it's 3 hours long), my jaw was dropped in awe. Partially because of the acting but mainly because of the atrocities that are picked up even in the tiniest moments--Meryl Streep holding up a sweater against DeNiro that she knitted for Walken, DeNiro crouching in the corner of his hotel room, a baby crying in a brothel in Saigon.
Amazingly awful stuff.

Okay so I'm sure you're wondering what this is and want to wax poetic about it but:
I am exhausted.
So I will get back to this. Maybe even after the weekend.

At any rate - all I have the energy for right now is to exclaim that I actually touched my toes today for the first time in over 6 years.
LIZ deserves an award or something.

PEACE!!

So again--not much to report. I think the fact that I now spend a lot of time in front of the computer, I feel like I am typed-out when I get home.
The good side of that is that I actually have the energy and desire to go and work out when I get home. I feel like I should at least work up a sweat somehow if I'm not going to be outside busting my ass all day. I rode 16 miles in 60 minutes today on the stationary bike on level 6. Will someone who knows how to work stationary bikes tell me if that is good/fair/bad?
I wanted to mention that unfortunately on Monday night I was not able to go to the Chris Bell Happy Hour at Mother Egan's but I sent my PolySci cousin Will to scope it out and he informed me today that Chris Bell had finally earned enough dinero to do some TV ads. According to Will it is "critically important" that he do that, as he is in "desperate need of name ID...in a big state like Texas."
True dat. I'm not sure if I have sung Bell's praises on here--I think I did a long time ago but don't have the patience to go through the archives--but let me say, this guy knows his stuff. He lost to DeLay due to the redistricting fiasco and was the one that filed the ethics complaint on DeLay. In other words, he got the proverbial ball rolling. I saw him speak the first time right after he announced he would be running for Governor. I was so impressed with his very down-to-earth, calm demeanor combined with a logical, no-nonsense political agenda: education and ethics.
At any rate, I suggest that anyone who is registered to vote in TX check out the link to the right and learn more about him. I'm all for Kinky as a comic, but I'm not too excited about him as a gub'ner.
We already have one yay-hoo we produced and look at where that got us.

I don't have much to say. Unbelieveable I know but it's true.

Interesting Notes:

We are moving a famous UT football player's 2 dogs from AUS to ORD on Friday. Do the math.

I still like the Paris Hilton song.

Apparently swordfish on board shorts can be stylish, especially when worn with aviators.

People still write hand-written thank-you cards.

Space shuttles are safe again...?

When the president starts saying "sh*t," I start saying "Adios Mofo." Oh. Wait. I was already saying that.

On a similar topic, I really enjoyed this link from BBC. Newsweek meets People.

"Do you know what a yellow-dog democrat is?"

Hewn is a word that you see written in Nathaniel Hawthorne novels but rarely say out loud. Try it. It's good for you--like milk.

James Blunt actually has a more peppy song. It's called Alright Tonight. If you can forgive him for You're Beautiful, I suggest you listen to it, if only to get the latter out of your head.

On the record: I like my dance class. And my teacher.

Off the record: I still suck and giggle uncontrollably when we do pelvic thrusts to My Goodies.

I kind of want to go to the horse races in Selma after hearing a woman won $25k on a ten-cent superfecta bet. Anyone? Anyone?

Monday went by fast. Here's hoping the rest of the week follows suit.

The funny thing about a day off in the middle of the week (i.e. Tuesday, July 4) is that it totally throws the rest of the week off. I've been calling Monday Friday all week and today Tuesday.

Where to even begin...let's see if my memory can remember back to last Friday, the beginning of all things Fourth.
Irishsetter 2 grilled coreander and cayenne chicken fajitas served with Coronas con limes. The fajitas were awesome, so tasty in fact that we completely forgot to even eat the fruit salad he had slaved away on. As per our prior agreement, after dinner we watched Sleepless in Seattle (I am not even kidding). Let me try to explain.
A few nights before I had been watching Sex and the City (the one where Carrie and Big break up when he goes to Paris, I know you know what I'm talking about) and immediately following it (surprise!) SiS came on. It is virtually impossible for any red-blooded woman to watch even the opening credits without getting hooked into watching that movie for the one billionth time. So I forced IS2 to watch it with me for about ten minutes until the part where Meg Ryan sings "Horses, horses, horses, horses" to Jingle Bells, as that has always been my favorite part of the movie and one of my mantras ever since. Then we set up the Time Warner DVR to record the rest of it, IS2 promising to watch it with me later.
Let me just say that it is only fitting that now we have DVR and somehow my shows still don't get taped correctly. I always remember setting up the VCR as a kid to record season finales of ER or something and it cutting off halfway. Sure enough, when watching SiS on Friday, the recording got all the way to the scene where Meg Ryan comes up into the Empire State building on the elevator and then cuts off. Killer. I had to paraphrase the rest of the story for IS2.
Interesting thing I noticed --rather, never knew about-- in that movie is that one dinner scene between Ryan and her fiancee is filmed in the Windows to the World in the Twin Towers. Let's roll.
Saturday IS2 and I contemplated buying a carpet cleaner machine just to see if it would work and then went and saw Superman Returns. Better than I thought it would be and yet somewhat of a let down. Perhaps it had something to do with the little boy who kept hitting me in the head the whole time. IS2 and I moved around FOUR (and I'm not kidding) times before the movie started trying to avoid sitting next to little talkative children (girls included). Let me just say (and I'm going to be crude here), trying to avoid children in a Killeen movie theatre is equivalent to trying to avoid fat people in a buffet line.
Nevertheless, the movie itself had some great FX. I liked the way they showed Superman's X-ray vision and his super hearing powers.
We also caught an episode of MTV's Made, filmed here in our own back yard at Lake Travis High School. This cute girl Joan was trying to "made" into a wakeboarder. Amazingly, she actually was pretty good. Hella better than I have ever been in my wakeboarding attempts (make that singular, attempt). However: More extradorinary, this girl that was in my middle school year book staff Monique was on the show. Like, as one of the coaches. Insanity. I am posting her Myspace profile here because, you know what, if you get onto MTV and weren't a total asshole in school (she was actually a nice girl), you get mad props. And a shoutout on my blog.
Sunday, my aunt from San Diego moved to Austin and moved in. With my dad. Who is living alone. At our house. However, my dad was in St. Croix helping his buddy fix up the Serena, so I was the designated helper. I met up with her, my aunt Debbie and uncle Billy from Mississippi, and my cousin Jerry who lives in Caldwell. They were driving all of her stuff down here on Billy's flatbed + F250. We had some Rudy's before the big move-in and then I took Debbie to Garden Ridge where she bought some outdoor lighting. She loves Garden Ridge. Then we moved in, quickly, and finished off the rest of the 12-pack of Bud Lights my uncle had iced down in his truck for the occasion.
Monday was work...I went to work, that is. It was a really slow day since not many people work at work. I got some good stuff done that I needed to work on, shipped 2 dogs from Fort Lauderdale to Rancho Santa Fe and called it a day. Monday night, IS2 and I met up with my aunt Stella again and her friend, along with my mom, in Stella's annual pilgrimage to Papadeux's, where she worked when she went to UT in Houston many years ago (well not that many). After some good seafood, IS2 and I took Stella and her friend down to the Ivory Cats and listened to some piano jams up their alley (no pun intended! hahaha). Then we made an obligatory stop at the Blind Pig and strolled through the Driskill to give Stella's friend Jenny a good dose of Texas memorabilia.
July 4th was an odd day. It marked the first time in 5 years I have been in Austin for July 4th. Shall we?
2001 - Lake Belton TX - back when my dad serviced AAFES with his video games and I was a youngin'. We went to Lake Belton/Fort Hood (I know, ironic) for an appreciation picnic.
2002 - San Diego - Fireworks over Hotel del Coronado. 'Nuff said.
2003 - Virgin Islands - floating in the dark, watching spectacular black-market fireworks explode over tiny islands while the water lapped at the boat, this was a peaceful, reflective 4th which I have since realized its importance.
2004 - Dallas - hanging out with The Landscaper and fireworks over Lake Lewisville
2005 - San Francisco - watched Sex and the City all day and saw some fireworks over the Pacific ocean yet again, this time with my sister.

IS2 and I stopped at Barnes & Noble and he picked up Tiger Force. We spent the rest of the day strolling around and making various stops in attempts to find an Indian food restaurant that was open as IS2 had a hankering for Indian grub. Apparently they celebrate July 4th too or figure that people only eat American food on 7/4. Hm. The chicken or the egg...
So after a stop at an Americanized BBQ and after much talk of Chicago subway routes, we heade back home and spent the rest of the night finishing our books. The rain really set in then, and it was hard to tell the boom and flash of the thunder and lightning from the fireworks. I read about the statue of Saddam falling in Baghdad while IS2 read about war crimes in Vietnam, all the while another war was being remembered.

Since then, I have seen The Devil Wears Prada (poorly done but speaks to 20-something girls everywhere trying to land good jobs and good boyfriends while still trying to care about the world) and worked out a grand total of once.

Tomorrow is Friday.
I love my Fridays.


P.S. I don't care what anyone says, I like the Paris Hilton song. So there.