In Tamarindo, after snorkeling and monkey-peeping in Paquera. Beautiful. Sandy. Tired. I'm the latter two. This country is the former.
CorinaLand en la Red
I want someone who can flatten me w/ a kiss that hits like a fist...
|...or a sentence that stops me like a brick wall.|
|Jan. 16th, 2005 @ 06:43 pm Ultimo Update|
In Tamarindo, after snorkeling and monkey-peeping in Paquera. Beautiful. Sandy. Tired. I'm the latter two. This country is the former.
|Jan. 1st, 2005 @ 02:40 pm LOST DOG|
If anyone sees a chocolate (w/ white markings on chest and feet) Pitt Bull/ English Bull Dog, please call 512.589.5021.
Her name is Lola.
She's 40 lbs, stocky w/ a thick green collar. She got away from 50th & Duval (hopped a fence, afraid of fireworks).
She has a growth on one of her nipples. Sounds grosser than it is.
|Jul. 15th, 2004 @ 01:38 pm Personality Test, Shmersonality Test|
I saw someone posted her results on my friends page, so I thought I'd give it a go. During the quiz, I felt SO great about myself. I thought some screen would pop up going, "No worries, you're fine!" No such screen appeared. Instead, I got this shit:
Luckily, my guy doesn't read my lj. HA! Caught you reading! j/k... I'm really only as crazy as you already know I am.
|Jul. 15th, 2004 @ 01:16 pm Pizza and Pondering|
Current Music: Simon & Garfunkel, "Richard Cory"
After gorging myself at Mr. Gatti's buffet (a/k/a, My Happy Place) with some friends, I pretty much vegged out at home. Got the back room almost totally in order, with the help of my roommate, and it's *so* adorable. The Pan-Asian room is almost completely complete.
Found an old Braves jersey from an ex (Bwandon) that I stashed away when I lived with a boyF. He can be 50 years old with 11 children, and he'll always be Bwandon to me... So, donning the jersey, I blasted Madonna and David Sedaris (odd combo, I know) while decorating and cleaning.
Getting loads of work done today, and I was actually early for work *GASP*. I even had 15 minutes to spare to play with the dogs in the yard before work. It was a really, really fun start to the day.
This morning I IMed with a friend I haven't had an interactive conversation with in 3 years, which is far too long. It's amazing to look at the connections you have with people -- some, based literally on weeks or months of interaction, are stronger than others that have been growing for years. Of the ppl I love, almost all have been nearly instantaneous connections, and maybe two or three have been a "grow together" sort of situation. I've been criticized for that, recently, but it was by someone who was too insecure and too much of a liar to really offer himself to someone, honestly, and see if there's a match. I'm glad I can do that, and that I have, so many times. I was lucky enough to find a lot of ppl when I was younger, especially, who were similarly available and unaware of how dangerous vulnerability is.
An ex once said that no one will ever be as in love as they were for the first time. He placed the blame on hormones and pubescent excitement. I think it's the opposite. I haven't been in hard, perfect love in a long, long time, and now that I've finally had an unpleasant, unhealthy relationship, I think I'll appreciate it so much more when it does happen. When I let myself fall for someone completely again, it'll be all the more precious, because I don't take it for granted at all anymore.
Where the fuck did that come from? Jesus. Only I can segue in one paragraph from a pizza buffet to appreciation of love. Moving right along...
|Jul. 13th, 2004 @ 09:26 am Thwarted Plans|
Yesterday after work, I put my thinking cap on, a soft chant repeating: "No Oprah today, No Oprah today."
I watch far too much Oprah.
So, in the hopes of doing something productive with my afternoon, I loaded up the dogs (and all of their necessary shit) and went to Caroline's to lay poolside until she got home. Water, check. Oil, check. Magazine, check. Sunglasses, check. Towel, check. Deliciously buttery Ritz Crisps, check. Halfway down the stairs, what did I see but the guy I stood up, his shaved head gleaming in the the 5 pm sun, playing volleyball. He didn't see me. I popped a 180 and booked it up the stairs, Jackie Joyner-style.
What a tangled web we weave when we're going through relationship confusion and have a slight cold, so we don't want to deal with calling someone back. Wait, that's not what Momma always said...
So, the first part of my plans thwarted, I relegated myself to my normal activity -- IM and playing with the dogs. Caroline and I picked out a recipe for tuna steak with a Shitake Mushroom/Cream/Lime sauce. After discovering that, objectively, Randall's totally sucks (What grocery store doesn't have ginger root and fresh shitakes, really?), we made our way to HEB. We managed to buy $0.02 of ginger root, which was twice as much as we needed. Damn big spender, Caroline! It took us about three times longer to get the food than it took to cook it. Dinner was excellent and we had a nice night of making fun of reality shows.
So, in summation, it wasn't a bust.
|Jul. 13th, 2004 @ 09:17 am Something I was told on Sunday finally sunk in...|
One of my best friends called me distraught about a month ago b/c a cunt waitress was really, really rude to her at dinner with her friend. My friend's more on the passive side, so we decided I'm going to be the one to talk to her/flip out on her/dish it out, see if she can take it. This isn't going to be pleasant.
I just found out this weekend that the roommate of said Bitch is a close friend of Nightmare Ex. Ironically, the roommate, the friend of Nightmare Ex, seems from all accounts to be a really cool, sweet person. It's a shame she associates with such total dicks. I know the downtown scene is small, but this is fucking random.
|Jul. 8th, 2004 @ 09:03 am I'm sick|
...in a lot of ways, really, but most tangibly, my throat is killing me, my ears feel off, and my neck feels like it's in a vise. Yet, I cancelled my doctor's appointment yesterday after leaving work before 11:00 a.m. I spent the morning laying poolside and after my sunbath, got some pretty shocking news from someone close to me, so I cancelled. Just like that. And today I feel even worse. Good call, Kellam.
I've been in a lot of situations in my life where ppl assumed things about me that were way off base, anticipating my reaction to something, and being so afraid of that reaction that certain topics were avoided altogether and one night (or day) something about a person I thought I was so close to would just spill out, explode. (I'm picturing a bullet passing through a milk carton, a shitty scene from a Morgan Freeman movie that's always stayed with me.) 50% of the time, the ppl I'm dealing w/ are correct, if they had been upfront from the beginning, I prolly wouldn't have wanted anything to do with them -- I would've walked away, but by the point of honesty, I'm too involved. The most frustrating thing is that the other 50% of the time, I would have been totally understanding and accepting. Regardless, it sucks to find yourself at a point with someone you care about and look back on time spent together, knowing they were (by omission) lying.
AND is there such a thing as a fresh start? Is that even possible? After going through drama, a shit-storm, whatever you want to call it, is it feasible to forget the things the other person did to hurt you, and vice versa, or is it best to just walk away and try to salvage a friendship?
I've had multiple ppl tell me they think I work so hard to stay friends with exes as a defense mechanism, to make break-ups and moving along after break-ups easier, b/c I can always tell myself, "Hey, they'll be a great friend, still," when, in reality, very few have actually turned out to be friends. In that capacity, the women have shown themselves much more adaptable. Most of the guys wear the "friend" mask, until I get a few drinks in me, then they turn into horny, pathetic, typical men. And I continue to be disappointed, but I continue to surround myself with these ppl. Is it that I'm so starved for attention that, despite not wanting to hook up with them, I crave the attempts?
Well, this turned out to be a sprawling entry. To sum up: Give me a lozenge, tell me the truth and (exes) don't try to hook up -- not gonna happen.
|Jul. 7th, 2004 @ 09:32 am In times like these, it is helpful to know that there have always been times like these.|
Current Music: STP, Interstate Love Song
I've been wading through a swamp of shit for the past few days, and it's finally hardening. I was in a situation where I had to decide between two completely conflicting accounts, each person swearing on his family's life that he was telling the truth. In the end, I went with my gut and a little bit of logic. I've never been in a situation where I'm 100% positive that someone is lying to me, and it was infinitely frustrating to not know which person that was.
I said to a friend yesterday that I didn't know who to trust, and he said something to the effect of "none of us do." I've never been cheated on (to my knowledge) so when I've gotten into relationships with ppl, I never understood why some were so cautious, so guarded. Now, I can understand. Knowing that someone has looked me in my face and completely lied shakes me and my confidence in recognizing quality.
But, I'm here because of decisions I made, and I'm not going to keep kicking myself for my choices. I can't have a healthy relationship if I constantly question whether I'm right. I look at ppl I know who have been cheated on consistently for years. One of my friends has been cheated on by every boyfriend (maybe 5) for the past couple of years, and she continues to trust the next one who comes along. I would get mad at her, saying she needs to take a step back, look at what she's seeking in a mate, and figure out which traits are atracting her to cheaters. This experience, though, flips that script and makes me wonder if I've either been lucky or not invasive enough to know if someone was cheating.
Well, this was a pleasant entry. Now, in my best superhero tone, "Onward!"
|Jul. 7th, 2004 @ 12:32 am Tum, Tum-Tum, Tum|
So, I was at a pretty low point an hour ago when I headed to HEB for some throat lozenges, throat spray and soup (take a wild guess how I'm feeling today). While touring the isles, I caught myself being drawn to the most unhealthy, gross foods and silently chastised myself. I plucked down all healthy food (mostly low-carb, even) and stocked up on veggies. I was not a happy camper. I was, in fact, almost in tears as I started to check out. What have I been doing to my body with all of this junk food and yo-yo dieting? How much irreversible damage have I done in the past 8 years as a result of a lack of willpower and association of food with comfort? Why am I such a fucking loser that I express my feelings most directly through food?
Then, as David the elderly cashier swiped my 15 Lean Gourmets, a man pushed his cart to a stop behind me, his cart filled halfway to the top (not a basket, a cart) with assorted varieties of Tums and a bicycle helmet in the kiddie chair. He twitched and mumbled to himself as I punched in my pin number.
And all the sudden, I felt like a winner.
|Jul. 6th, 2004 @ 09:31 am Volleyball Goddess|
Apparently, somehow a major skill I must've been harboring for some time remained hidden until yesterday. I am a Volleyball Goddess. To be more specific, a Pool Volleyball Serving Goddess. Caroline can verify. I was SO good that I was given a third of the bounty: my own can of potted meat. That's right -- I said potted meat. Who's Monday beats that?!?
To give some context, I had a pretty active weekend, for a change. Lots of sun, lots of water, resulting in lots of conflicting tan lines.
Friday was, in fact, my birthday, as my big sis pointed out in a comment. The day was a bit of a roller coaster of emotions, but ended well, w/ me going to a party a friend of Steven's had. Woke up with boys crashed out all around the room and grabbed a chili cheese burger as soon as we got up. In my opinion, that's not too shabby of a time.
Mike was in from out of town, as was his roomie, Shane, and a bunch of us went out on Saturday. Sunday, the boys and I went to Barton Springs Spillway, which is very close to a really beautiful oasis of soft grass and cool, silky water, but is exactly the opposite, replete w/ dripping dogs and hard cement ground. It was fun, though, and watching my boys hit on make-up-laden girls was entertainment enough.
For the first time in my life, I didn't see fireworks. I was napping, preparing myself for a long night. Star Seeds, a greasy all-night diner, filled our bellies and, again, my new roommate came in the next morning to find far too many people in my bedroom just waking up at 3 pm. I bet she thinks I'm a total hooch. Little does she know, I'm just a fan of slumber parties.
We shook the sleep off and headed to Caroline's pool, where we had a total blast. We had floaties. Mike had an insatiable appetite for flipping said floating, tossing us like rag dolls, and cannonballing our oily asses. Then, volleyball ensued. At one point I was referred to as "magic." Got a date for tonight, which I didn't want at all, but it was easier to say "sure" than, "I don't have a type, but you're not it." He's smarmy, but I'm a wuss. So, if anything happens to me tonight, a beefy guy named Darren who works at Dell is to blame. Unless I grow some balls in the meantime.