The Guinness Book of Texas

Before I left California, I never really thought of states in the US as separate entities. I knew they had their own birds, flowers and flags. I knew they all had a thing or two they were particularly proud of, but generally I just thought since we're all in the same country....whats there to be so competitive about?

Plenty (apparently).

Since moving to Houston, and I must say this may be the the MOST annoying thing about living in this city, I have encountered so many people with the worst state-pride version of Big Man's Complex I've ever seen. Did you know that if there was a Guinness Book of US records, Texas would be at the top of every list? Ask anyone here, they'll tell you. If they don't have the worst roads or the craziest drivers they have the largest malls or the best Christmas light show.

A little perspective is in order here. Sure, Houston is a very big city...big as in footage...BIG city. Texas is a big state. So 9 out of 10 times that I ever bring up my own home state in either a positive or negative light...I am slammed with some chart topping fact..."Well Houston has a huge amount of homeless people..." I mean what's to gain in telling someone that seeing a few homeless people gathered under a bridge or at the freeway entrance asking for change is nothing compared to the hoards of homeless in San Francisco, Portland, DC or Manhattan? How can I explain to someone who has never been to Santa Monica or San Diego that there are nicer beaches than Kema or Galveston?

I've been holding this little rant in for a while, because the sheer concept of being annoyed by this is so....annoying. The fact that I could be irritated by this meaningless verbal competition Houstonians are so obsessed with makes my skin crawl a little. Their "little" big city is full of itself and for no apparent reason. I'll tell you what they've got on the rest of the country; Fat muther fuckers, Huge cockroaches, Fashion that's at least a season behind and Absolutely no natural skyline. There...you want a trophy?

The Fearless Freaks

A favorite band of mine, The Flaming Lips. A friend of theirs put out a doc film about the bands unlikely story of success and failures. Any Lips fans, or fans of unique rock might appreciate...

Courage, the Cowardly Lion

Never wait for courage. It's an illusion that courage comes before the leap. Courage is what comes after we realize we survived the leap. Step up to the water, let your toes hug the edge, hold your breath, close your eyes and jump while your still scared shitless.

A Giant Cock...

Short story, won't take long:

I woke up this morning feeling pretty refreshed. I had a nice long 8 hours, and before that an awesome dinner consisting of all my favorite vegetables and a new kind of lemon tofu I was trying out. I already knew what I was going to wear; the whisper blue slacks I hadn't worn in months and my favorite puff sleeve black sweater (its cold in my office). All was right with the world.

I walked into my bathroom and turned on the shower. As I waited for the water to turn hot, I pulled out my new clay face wash and mask that I'd gotten from Organics and smeared it all over my cheeks laughing at my crisp white face in the mirror. Ahhhhh, Wednesdays, I thought to myself.

I turned to step into the shower when all of the sudden a giant cockroach the size of two conjoined black olives scattered from the drain pipe and started bolting up the tile in my shower.

Blood curdling screech.

More screeching.

Running out of the bathroom screeching.

Then into the kitchen, clutching my boobs as if they could save me.

There was not a man in sight. All I had in my defense was an extra large can of Ant & Roach spray that I bought when D accidentally brought me over a baby roach infested bag of rice (which I forced him to drive all the way back and dispose of).

I held that can of Raid as if it were my only hope of infinite life in the face of Armageddon. I doused the criminal with the Raid and screeched as it fell to it's doom in the half water-filled tub. I watched as it struggled and twitched in the water, then gave up and let death rescue him from his misery. I was triumphant.

"You know roaches can hold their breath under water." Tim said this morning after I replayed my horrific bathroom battle to him while we stepped into the elevator.

"I know.....
........like....for how long?"

Love Him While He Sleeps...

Tell your self you love a man while he's sleeping. While his defences are down and he's not being his confident super self. While he's given himself to slumber, and his eyes are swollen shut. Tell yourself then, that you love him. Don't be so misguided by what men can convince us they are. All the answers to our car questions, the infinite knowledge of how to build everything and hook every electrical item in your house up. Far stronger than you, last..if ever to cry. Who squashes bugs and laughs at you when your being a "silly woman". Instead, love him when he's quiet and far away and dreaming and out of control over it all.

Vacuuming My Dirty Carpet...

Today my superpower is CLEAN SWEEPER!! I have the ability to handle un-finished business...clip loose ends...severe dangling ties.

I 've been holding back some choice words for a few choice people and today in one fell swoop I dispensed with the courtesies and let loose on every one's ignorant ass.

HOLY GOOD INTENTIONS, CLEAN SWEEPER!!!

I kindly told my fat, bacon-hoarding, old room mate that....well she is a fat bacon-hoarding little room mate. I told the other old room mate that not only is she lacking self confidence but she's the biggest poser I've met since high school and she should get used to the reality that she's also excruciatingly boring and useless as a woman and human being. I even told my ex-best friend that her lack of keeping-in-touch ability is no longer cute and that she should grow up and learn to write down a phone number like a big girl.

YES...no one is exempt from my lightning-bolt zingers. PIKAHH!!! Run you, tiny imbecilic minions!!!! I vanish you from my Blackberry and here after from my life.....

Who wants next?

Say

Silence is twisted

And you know this

Drives me

Crazy

But you remain

Still with your selfish motives

Knowing every second is like miles

Every inch of distance is like hours

Taken from us

Expiration all around us

Wasteful silence

Twisted mind game

Go ahead and say you couldn't help it

Liar

Decision:

I've decided that in light of recent events, I will never, ever, ever....look out for anyone else but myself.

I consider other people way too much.

The Deafening Sound of Muted Silence...

Nothing scares the shit out of me more than serenity. In fact, those who wonder why my best friend and I share such an unshakable bond don't realize that this was the very first item we bonded over. The deconstructors, we called ourselves. We are the stompers of sandcastles, the nail polish pickers. Up until my 22th birthday, my go-to excuse was age. I was young. I was inexperienced. I was searching. Of course I realize I'm still young. But I've definitely passed the point where decisions made no longer have the power to curtly nullify your progress in life. I've made decisions over the past 3 years that caused permanent scars. I've made them in slow motion. I've processed thinkable thoughts while purposely not thinking about it. While closing my eyes to the light and choosing to float above myself. I am the preferer of out-of-body experiences.

So, you can imagine my surprise as of late, while I begin to realize that all of my decisions, or at least 90% of them are made to ensure permanence. Stability, even. My mother and I chatted the other day, and as usual she spoke the words that had barely yet caused my mouth to part. "I don't know," I said, "I just feel like for the last few years, I've been....like doing things for the wrong reason...like so much change...because...I mean...I..." Calmly she interrupts, "You feel like all you do is react." She said. ((Exactly))

No matter what, the places I end up will always be a product of how I feel. I found much needed silence in New York (ironically) and then silence became too loud here with D. So again I'm changing and again I welcome it. Saturday, after all the boxes are moved and I'm in my own place again, I'll breathe. After room mates and D and being who he needed and who I thought I should have been...looking into an empty room will feel like bathing. I haven't lived on my own since I was 21 years old. Even longer if you count the ghosts.

**Note to Reader: I am aware that I have "manufactured" a few words and phrases within this post, and I appreciate your assumed acceptance of said terms in advance.

My Brain Has More Than Farted....

There are times in (my) life when one has to allow themselves the luxury of letting all of the millions of thoughts stream through their mind like one of those endless streams of spit that fall out of babies mouths. That thing never breaks or wavers, it goes on forever...and like so many babies spit strings, so are my thoughts today. Here...I'll share them, in random order.

Truck. Highlighter.Mom. Plane ticket.Checking Account. WaMu is Chase. CH-ase. Shase. Cheese. Lunch. Hungry....shit I'm hungry. Fat. Gym. Did I pay them? Hair.Cut. Chop. Sad. Shave? Dare I? Ugh...phone, who is it? T-Mobile. Did I pay them?? Uhaul...rip-off. Carroll street. AJ. Clean up. Plane ticket. Damn...that was a lot of money to spend on a few days. Apartment. Furniture. Car. I need a fucking car. I hate cars. I hate car notes. I want a Beetle. Ugh...bugs. Stick. I should really learn to drive a stick. Cheaper car. Ugh...cars. Ugh..gas. Gas. Damn....set up utilities. Electric. Why are there so many electric companies. Lol...The Electric Company. TV. Cable. Hell no, no cable. TV sucks. Movies don't. I need a TV for movies. Damn. Another thing to buy. Damn, another thing to move. Move. School. Ugh. Junior. Ugh transfer. Applications. California? Grandma. Comedian. My grandmother wants to be a comedian. She is pretty funny. I should write about her. Writing. Ugh...writers block. 2735 words. Painful. 15 more pages. Please complete "About". About to pass out from all the words. The Right Word. The Written Word. How many dictionaries does one writer need? Need. Shit. I need groceries. And plates. And forks. I have forks. Forks are in Brooklyn. Can you take forks on a plane? Plane...shit. I need a ride to the airport. D? Maybe not. Work. Too much work. Oz works so much. I could never be that way. Must breathe. Must be able to smell the roses. Must have time to write. Time to pray. Time to cook exploratory dishes. Dishes...ugh.