Pages

random quarter

May 4, 2010

one. you know those cardboard dumps you see in bookstores? the ones that hold newly released paperbacks in a box divided into sixths or eighths, propped on flimsy easels and topped with flimsier images which are partially obstructed by the book's title and author information? my cd/dvd racks are in storage, at the back of a ten-by-fifteen unit which is crammed full of my shit or my parents'. way at the back. crammed FULL, i tell you. so i won't be braving the chaos to get three little measly racks, i thought (years ago...because it's been years since i've had my own place), when one of those cardboard boxes would work just fine. there are now seven of them -- three black, two brown, one royal blue and one this incredibly, ridiculously bright red. my cds and dvds are in these boxes which line the beautifully painted walls of my room. perhaps if my room didn't have this hobo feel to it, i might be inclined to keep it less chaotically.

two. for the superbowl, as i was rooting for the saints, i wore a black mini skirt, a black tee-shirt and a kickass black and gold jacket. (i had to work, otherwise, it would've been blue jeans and the black tee-shirt). it's not my usual flavor, this jacket. it's a style that i would normally classify as a little too girly, a little too rich and pomp and circumstance and ornate for my tastes. right now, it's hanging on the back of the chair in front of my desk. right now, i'm looking at it, and i'm thinking it looks like really bad wallpaper. but the thing's built like a pirate coat, so the gold of the print loses the lameness when you put it on. and the coat makes me look like i have more shoulders than i really do....

three. i'm really self-conscious about my shoulders.

four. probably because i have such horrible posture, and they roll forward quite a bit.

five. and because i swam breaststroke.

six. and i got picked on a lot as a kid, and kind of curled myself inward or something.

seven. and probably because i sleep on my side, curled up in a ball, with my arms all contorted.

eight. and because i always had to have my coach's help when it came time to doing the bench press when we did weights before swim practice. (i literally began my freshman year benching less than ten, folks. that's how much of a pansy i was.) :]

nine. ...anyway, the thing's been hanging on that chair since ... what? january? february? this is how good a housekeeper i am.

ten. i don't keep up with my tivo as well as i should. today, for example, i burned four episodes -- three of white collar (one of which had been on there since the last week in february...and i'm pretty sure it got killed, and i can understand why...every episode seems to be a regurgitation of the previous...but i'd saved them for my mommy) and one of life unexpected (which i have a really bad feeling it got cancelled, and i'm kind of bummed about that). the white collar episodes i'd not watched yet. but they were taking up valuable space. i kept losing shows because tivo would kill them before i'd had a chance to watch them. (of course, given that i'm less and less impressed with private practice and grey's anatomy, there are two that might not be on season pass for too much longer, which would be cool. then maybe i could go back to watching the mentalist and bones, assuming they don't come on at the same time...my luck they probably do).

eleven. i find myself supremely irritated when people confuse there, their and they're and your and you're (that one bothers me so much more the others), and yet, i catch myself making this mistake more and more frequently.

twelve. i have about a dozen baseball caps, most of which were given by family members. the only one i wear is my aggie cap.

thirteen. when i wear a baseball cap, i feel small and frumpy. so i really only wear it in the fall at the games.

fourteen. i got season tickets to kyle field. i am SO excited! (three months to football season! WHOOP!)

fifteen. i almost always feel like i've failed at everything. it makes it hard to pick myself up and dust myself off and try again. i don't always see the point in it cause the picking myself up again seems to be inevitable. (and yeah, i know. prolly cause i jinx myself.)

sixteen. i wish i could wear my boots all year long.

seventeen. i wish they weren't falling apart.

eighteen. i wish jessica simpson still made them.

nineteen. i'm somewhat embarrassed to say i own anything that jessica simpson made, but these, these are kickass boots. i get tons and tons of compliments on them, even in their fallingapartness.

twenty. i love that i can hear the cars passing on the freeway from my house.

twenty-one. i love that when you're in my front yard, it doesn't feel like the freeway's so close.

twenty-two. ceiling fans make my eyeballs dry out.

twenty-three. but without them, i get crazy, crazy hot when i sleep.

twenty-four. red oak trees are my favorites, then post oaks, then magnolias, then sweet gums, then dogwoods (but dogwoods don't like the climate down here so much, i guess.)

twenty-five. i hate those web advertisements that make noise. i'm all in deep concentration and there's congratulations! you've won! i don't give a shit. shut up.

this week's wisdom

my brethren, count it all joy when you fall
into various trials, knowing that the testing of
your faith produces patience. but let patience
have its perfect work, that you may be perfect
and complete, lacking nothing. if any of you
lacks wisdom, let him ask of god, who gives to
all liberally and without reproach, and it will
be given to him (james 1:2-5).

two things. i tweet now. i know. you're thrilled. yay. look for criticalcrass.

picky has lost the blogspot part of its web address. so for those (few...one of my friends is jonesing for three hundred. i'd be happy with thirty) of you following, you might need to make adjustments: smartassdirect.com. doesn't that sound better? do i really care if you think so? (this is where c.c. shakes her head.)

this week's wisdom

April 28, 2010

he who is of a proud heart stirs up strife,
but he who trusts in the lord will be prospered.

he who trusts in his own heart is a fool,
but whoever walks wisely will be delivered
(proverbs 28:25-26).

random quarter

April 24, 2010


one. i am allergic to animal dander and lanolin. i once spent thirty minutes copping a squat on the floor of heb's woodlands market trying to find a lotion that did not have lanolin in it (although i don't have the problem of finding a good lotion now, because bath and body works has its true blue spa products, which i love).

two. eventually, i would like to have seven dogs (but they would have to be outside dogs, because of that allergy, and i would not only have to be able to afford the seven, but the house with the big enough yard to accommodate them) -- two french mastiffs (nazareth and galilee), two akitas (chew and bacca), one lab (george), one rottweiler (henry) and one boxer (ocee).

three. one of my nicknames at a former place of employment was kooky. when i became a supervisor, it became superkook.

four. if i'm overwhelmingly troubled by something, and i've got the time and the gas, i'll drive to galveston and sit on the seawall until i figure out how to fix it (or until it's too late to be sitting on the seawall by myself).

five. if i really like a movie, book or song, i'll watch, read or listen to it until i get sick of it. like the latest star trek film. i watched that one in the theaters twenty times, three in one day, back to back. and yes, i paid for every show.

six. i drove a friend of mine from san antonio to dallas and back in one day so he could see about a girl.

seven. i've yet to be able to watch all of the star wars films in one day.

eight. i don't feel comfortable asking people to spend time with me.

nine. i took a semester of spanish after having taken four years of german. i got a d.

ten. my least favorite color is barbie doll pink.

eleven. pearl jam played a free concert at kansas university in spring of ninety-two. the college i attended bused girls to the show. i didn't go because i'd never heard of them.

twelve. i've got a pretty good voice, but i'm terrified of the stage.

thirteen. i hate to cook, but i love buying things for the kitchen. they're more decorative than anything else.

fourteen. i cannot stand it when people paint wood furniture, including cabinetry. all that beautiful grain, covered up. painting on it in small doses -- accents, like flowers and stuff, that's okay, but painting it top to bottom, side to side, is inexcusable.

fifteen. my favorite piece of furniture is the antique icebox my great uncle refurbished and my great aunt painted (small doses).

sixteen. my room is in perpetual chaos.

seventeen. the more i watch the film the proposal, the more i like it.

eighteen. i have lived in nine different cities (some of them more than once). it's rare that i stay in one place for more than two years (which could be why i feel compelled to get the hell out of dodge right now).

nineteen. i have buzz-cut my hair twice -- once because i got mad it because it kept getting in my face and once because i'd bleached it and then dyed it black a month later. i loved not having to mess with it. i hated being called sir.

twenty. my three favorite characters from books and films are george doren (at least, i think that's his last name...i don't remember, and i'm too lazy to invest any more than the five seconds i invested trying to look it up) from the novel right before your eyes, henry roth from the film dedication and han solo from the star wars saga.

twenty-one. if memory serves, i've only walked out of a movie in the theater three times: mad love, meet the fockers and minority report. i should've stayed with minority report. that one's back half was much. much better than its front.

twenty-two. i don't have any depth perception. so things like three-dimensional movies...they don't do a thing for me, but i still have to wear the glasses to watch them.

twenty-three. i don't like diamonds. they're pretty enough to look at, but i like colored jewels better.

twenty-four. i don't like white walls, either.

twenty-five. every now and then, i sleep with my teddy bear.

n is for neapolitan

April 21, 2010

so i used to go to school in missouri. one of the (many) things i didn't like about being in school out of state was that i had to eat inferior--and it is inferior... all of it, even your silly ben and jerry's--ice cream.

i'm a texan, boys and girls. i might rant about the stupid pollen and the hurricanes and the flatness of it, but when it comes down to it, i was born here, and i'll die here.

because as much as i hate that blasted pollen and the stupid hurricanes and the flatness, there are three really, really great things about this place:

the abundance of trees.

the beauty of the hill country.

and the bliss that is blue bell ice cream.

that one, sometimes, i missed more than any other. even my mommy. when you've grown up with this stuff, when it's the only ice cream that's graced your freezer, you start to take it for granted.

i hated having ice cream cravings at college because i always had to settle for the cheap stuff.

my roomies and i were watching television one afternoon when a blue bell advertisement came on the tube. i jumped up, all excited, exclaiming how awesome it was. but my friends blew me off like i was nuts for getting all crazy about some ice cream.

oh, but it's not any ice cream. it's the best tasting ice cream in the country.

we used to cart the stuff up to the monastery. mom would call her brothers and take requests, and we'd go to the grocery store and buy six half gallons, and then to get the dry ice and the boxes. we'd pack it up with our luggage and head for the airport. the boxes and the suitcases were dropped on the conveyor belt for the baggage handlers, and we'd board, eager for cooler climates and better scenery (because as much as i love texas, utah's rather pretty in the summer and a heck of a lot more comfortable).

there, my relatives would argue about which flavor was the best. these debates were ongoing for the entirety of our stay. and every time another half gallon was sampled, votes would change.

this is how good the stuff is, folks.

last summer, one of my college friends who lives in oregon put some status up on her facebook page about how she'd done yardwork all day, and now she was going to sit on one of her lawn chairs with a bowl of ice cream and enjoy the fruits of her labor.

i'd commented that it was too bad she couldn't have blue bell.

one of her friends who lived in new york saw that and got all excited. she loved blue bell! she'd been trying to find a natural vanilla bean that was as good.

it's just not possible. i told her she could have some shipped. (for those of you contemplating this, it's not cheap.)

this is how good the stuff is, folks.

everything else is pathetic.

so imagine my surprise when i could not find a flavor to satisfy my palette.

i brought home mocha madness. coffee ice cream, roasted pecans, chocolate chips and caramel sauce. nope. not enough chocolate.

i brought home cake and ice cream. vanilla ice cream, chocolate sprinkles, chocolate coated cake and chocolate icing. not enough chocolate. i know, right? you'd think i would've loved it (and, of course, i do, but it did not appease my craving in the slightest.)

groom's cake is my absolute favorite, but alas, it must be one of those seasonal flavors that i won't see for another month or two. it is chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake, strawberry hearts, strawberry sauce and chocolate icing. it is divine. the. best. ice. cream. ever. EVER.

i went to the store today to get some smarties for a project i'm doing for a friend. i debated getting ice cream but thought better of it. the last two times, amazingly enough, had been a bust.

and yet, for some strange reason, i found myself standing before the freezers that held my beloved blue bell (which were shockingly empty...it's coming on summer already, and we can't handle heat very well, because it's blistering, sopping, sticky, boiling, sweaty, nasty, stinky, burning, my-god-i-hate-this-place kind of heat... or maybe it's because the summer flavors are coming! one can only hope). i stood there, debating...

neapolitan? no. too boring. i used to have that one all the time. mint chocolate chip? no. too minty. banana split? no. my dad had let me have a bit of his the other day, and while it is scrumptious...not enough chocolate. strawberries and vanilla? no. did you not hear me? chocolate! then yes. i snatch it up, turn and take a few steps. then no. i want chocolate!

so i go back and grab the neapolitan.

and. oh. my. gosh. i'd forgotten how much i love this stuff. it's not exactly what i'd been craving. but it's darned close.

and you, you who don't live in the red zones:


you're probably wishing you had some in your freezer.

hah! sucks to be you.

this was a matlock project. learn about that here.

this week's wisdom

April 19, 2010

rest in the lord, and wait patiently for him;
do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.
cease from anger, and forsake wrath;
do not fret -- it only causes harm.

the lord knows the days of the upright,
and their inheritance shall be forever (psalm 37:7-8, 18).

and then there's this:

this is your journey
breathe it in
experience what it feels like to be you in this exact moment (stolen from a friend's facebook page).

home

April 17, 2010

m is for monastery

April 15, 2010

so one of my favorite things about the holidays -- christmas and easter and whatnot -- is the phone call we get from my great uncle, a trappist monk at a monastery in huntsville, utah, outside of salt lake city. his birth name was clarence, but upon entering the monastery he became brother nicholas, or nick.

he'll call at around eight a.m. -- we are one of many families to receive the pleasure of his company via phone conversation, as he is an incredibly popular dude ... relatives from all across the country clamor for his attention, and i like to think he calls our house first, though there's this part of me that knows that's probably not the case ... still, i delude myself, and happily.

it's an hour earlier there. he's been up for probably four hours (crazy!). my family's been up for maybe one. we're sleepy and groggy and not always so happy to be up that early. but we'll wait, patiently, considering, for our turn to the talk to the man.

that image you have of a cowboy, my uncle fits it to a t. he wears chambray button down shirts and wrangler blue jeans and dirty, ole boots and a cowboy hat. he's quiet and slow and unbelievably patient. he's got this dopey grin, a contagious one. he gives the best hugs ever.

he's in his eighties now. you might think the strength of that hug might wane with age, but it's just as strong and warm and comforting -- just as bearish -- as it had been when i was three. and it's like that, regardless of how long it's been since you've seen him. the hug he gives you when he greets you at the guest house the moment you get there is the same as the one he'd give you days later when he's come back from his afternoon nap.

he was a navy boy and a pool shark. before this, he and two of his brothers (the three of them were inseparable) caused all kinds of hell, like the time one of them (the oldest of the three -- joe) stood in front of their house and put his hands up to his cheeks and wiggled his fingers and stuck out his tongue. and there's nick, standing before him, but a few feet away, armed with a giant watermelon. he hurled it. he missed. it flew through the stained glass window. great grandma was not pleased. great grandma wore a cord of rope around her waist for moments like this, and i'm sure the three of them got swatted with it often.

he's jolly. he observant. he's sensitive (in a good way). and his faith astounds me. he's awesome. so incredibly awesome.

this man is the closest thing i have to a grandfather. my mom's dad died when i was three. and even if he hadn't, he wasn't the coolest of dudes. my dad's dad died when i was in junior high.

so those phone calls we get from him make my day.
and the weekly summer trips we take to his monastery to spend time with him and his other brothers, the monks ... those are my favorite vacations -- hands down.

i don't get to go this summer, though. i'm going to europe with my cousins, which should be awesome, and i'm very excited about it, but because i'm going on this trip, i can't go see him. i'm pretty bummed. majorly bummed, actually. these summer trips have been a tradition long before i was born. my mother and her brothers and their families have a miniature family reunion at his place.
we fly to salt lake, rent a car, meet up with the others at the guest house, which is just inside the monastery's property, in a valley near ogden. it's about an hour north of salt lake. it's glorious, even in the winter. it's the epitome of peaceful. it's in the perfect place. and for a week, during the day, we help the monk out with his chores. and at night, we make g and t's and mojitos. the women cook dinner, and the boys smoke cigars, and we sit out on the hill (which is hidden by all that wonderful shade) beside the house and reminisce about all those times we made mischief.

good times.

and, oh my heavens, you should see the stars at night in this place. it's magical.

the last time i talked to him, i had to tell him i couldn't come to see him this summer. that was not a fun conversation.

maybe i can see him this fall. that would be nice. i think the monk would like that. i know i would.

you wanna see more of it? go here.

it's mentioned in a book! read it.

this was a matlock project. learn about that here.

this week's wisdom

April 14, 2010

consider the work of god;
for who can make straight what he has
made crooked?
in the day of prosperity be joyful,
but in the day of adversity consider:
surely god has appointed the one as well as
the other,
so that man can find out nothing that will
come after him (ecclesiastes 7:13-14).

and last week's

now it shall come to pass, if you diligently
obey the voice of the lord your god, to
observe carefully all his commandments
which i command you today, that the lord
your god will set you high above all nations of
the earth. and all these blessings shall come
upon you and overtake you, because you obey
the voice of the lord your god:

blessed shall you be in the city, and blessed
shall you be in the country.

blessed shall be the fruit of your body, the
produce of your ground and the increase of
your herds, the increase of your cattle and the
offspring of your flocks.

blessed shall be your basket and your
kneading bowl.

blessed shall you be when you come in,
and blessed shall you be when you go out
(deuteromy 28:1-6).

this week's wisdom

April 1, 2010

but take careful heed to do the commandment
and the law which moses the servant of
the lord commanded you, to love the lord
your god, to walk in all his ways, to keep his
commandments, to hold fast to him, and to
and to serve him with all your heart and with all your
soul (joshua 22:5).

past weeks' wisdom

March 23, 2010

let love be without hypocrisy. abhor
what is evil. cling to what is good. be kindly
affectionate to one another with brotherly love,
in honor giving preference to one another; not
lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the
lord; rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation,
continuing steadfastly in prayer (romans 12:9-12).

cease from anger, and forsake wrath;
do not fret--it only causes harm.
for evildoers shall be cut off;
but those who wait on the lord,
they shall inherit the earth (psalm 37:8-9).

being confident of this very thing, that he
who has begun a good work in you will
complete it until the day of jesus christ (phillippians 1:6).

my kabuki

March 12, 2010

today's tunes are brought to you by the eagles, third eye blind, three doors down, hootie and the blowfish and garth brooks.

mama says this one reminds her of you.

desperado
these things that are pleasing you
can hurt you somehow...
now it seems to me some fine things

have been layed upon your table
but you only want the ones
that you can't get...
your prison is walking
through this world all alone
don't your feet get cold in the wintertime
the sky won't snow, and the sun won't shine
it's hard to tell the nighttime from the day...
come down from your fences
let somebody love you
before it's too late

it was a four-hour drive from my apartment to the folks' house. this was on repeat the whole way home.

the god of wine
there's another chip you haven't spent
and you're cashing them all in...
the alchohol, it permeates
and soon the cells give way
and cancels out the day...
every glamourous sunrise
throws the planets out of line
a star sign out of whack
a fraudulent zodiac...
you let me down

and since you've left us, every time i hear here without you, i think of you. i heard it at one this morning. as if i needed the reminder.

at three a.m. when the cops were calling mom and dad, i was in my apartment cleaning out my cds and came across this one.

not even the trees
someone please talk to me
cause i feel you cry
and you're sitting with him
and i know i'll never see you again...
and i wanna know if it's true
when he looks at me, won't you tell me
does he realize the pain i'm in
he took you too soon
and now my days are short
and my nights are long...
and it makes me wonder
as i sit and stare
will i see your face again
tell me, do you care...
and right now i just can't see
cause i'm feeling weak
and my soul begins to bleed
and no one's listening to me
not even the trees

mama says this one makes her think of you, too. it makes me think of her thinking of you.

wolves
i spent the morning thinking
about the ones the wolves pulled down...
lord, please shine a light of hope
on those of us who fall behind
and when we stumble...
could you help us up while there's still time...
i don't mean to be complaining, lord
you always see me through
and i know you've got your reasons
for each and everything you do
but tonight outside my window
there's a lonesome mournful sound
and i just can't keep from thinking
about the ones the wolves pull down

prayer for those in need of respect

March 6, 2010

most merciful god,
there are many in this city
who hate themselves
who consider their lives worthless
who have not known the healing of love
touch them with the wonder
and the power of your transforming love
that their lives may be may whole
that they find fulfillment in life
that they my rejoice in your blessing (vienna cobb anderson).

this week's wisdom

March 3, 2010

therefore strengthen the hands which hang
down, and the feeble knees (hebrews 12:12).

and last week's

but we urge you brethren...that you also
aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own
business, and to work with your own hands, as
we commanded you, that you may walk
properly toward those who are outside, and
that you may lack nothing (1 thessalonians 4:10-12).