CANNONBALL! into the water

because sometimes you just have to jump and hope you won't get hurt.

Monday, June 26, 2006

speed reading and how it only works for fun books

It seems that every single time a new Harry Potter book comes out I am vacationing in Michigan. And my aunt is there, along with her two kids.

One summer, I arrived, and my aunt was about halfway through the Harry Potter book. We would sit on the beach together, when the kids weren't pulling me away from reading and begging me to swim in the water so cold it can stop your breathing. And we would read.

I tend to be a speed reader when it comes to enjoyable works. As far as reading things like a Chemistry textbook, it takes me a lot longer - like an eternity. This is because in order to read a textbook (much like writing a paper for a college class) one must procrastinate in every way, shape, and form possible. There must be lots of going out with friends, drinking venti latte's from Starbucks, and eating pounds of cheese fries.

When it comes to things like reading Harry Potter, however, I can skip over passages and not lose any information. I can also listen to my iPod, sing along with any of the embarassing music I have on it (like Hit Me Baby One More Time) or any of the cool music I listen to (like bands you've never heard of because that makes me awesome).

I had just begun reading Harry Potter, on the plane ride from Houston to Detroit and then Traverse City for this particular vacation. My aunt had been working on the book for longer and had a lot more read.

Her kids, and my adorable cousins, decided that my aunt and I needed to race through the book, see who was the better reader.

They figured they would help me along as they were betting on me to win.

It ended up that my cousins stopped asking me to play with them until I was done reading. Instead they would tell me to go read while simultaneously stretching my aunt's arms out until she could no longer hold onto the book due to how rubbery her arms were. Then she would head into the water and wait for the coldness to return her arms to their former glory.

I finished first in about two, maybe three, days.

It's so beautiful to see young children learn how to pick a winner and cheat the system.

The next time a Harry Potter book came out, I read it in under 48 hours while playing with my cousins and sleeping a lot.

What can I say? I have talent.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

let down, yet again, by where i live

We received a notice on our door today that read "you have a package!" The excitement I felt was not promimently displayed, but that is because I have done nothing but sleep all day long and feel sick and stare at my very very messy room and enjoy the fact that I skipped class (both classes) and have been irresponsible for the past two days.

I sent Rachel to retrieve the package. It would either be package #1 from my mom that she sent almost a week and a half ago. Or it would be package #2.

Package #1 holds a delightful low-cut shirt I am missing, a skirt my mom hemmed for me (that I am hoping fits better now), and an envelope in which I am to send my garage door opener back to my parents. That is due to the fact that I no longer have a permament residence and my parents need the garage door opener from our former residence so that the new residents of the house I lived in can open and close the garage door from inside of their cars.

Package #2 is cookbooks and books about Michigan.

Unfortnately, the package was nothing more than a bag of candy.

To my apartment complex, I say DO NOT TOY WITH MY EMOTIONS LIKE THIS! And stop putting flyers for the tacky hot bod contest outside my door.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

adventures with awkward situations and peeing in a cup

After a long process of filling out more applications than any one person should have to, I got a new job.

I would like to thank my parents for always believing in me and supporting me still even as I am an adult. I would also like to thank Morgan, my MIA roommate of last year and soon to be roommate next year, for always making me smile and for cuddling on the couch when I am stressed out. When you play with my hair, I feel like I can do anything.

Last, but certainly not least, to my summer group. I would be nothing without you.

Thank you.

Seriously, though, I have a job now. One that will keep me on my toes, I hope.

In order to have this job, I had to go take a drug test.

There is a boy in one of my classes, we'll call him McStudent.

McStudent also got hired yesterday. I know this because I saw him there, not because I am a stalker. I only stalk people I know well and very very pretty people. I promise.

When I saw McStudent in class today, I asked him if he was planning to take his drug test today. He said no, so I said I was going right after class if he wanted to tag along. He did. after a very boring (and dragged out) lecture, I met McStudent at his apartment and we drove to OKC for the drug test, stopping at a Phillips 66 on the way so that our bodies would be filled with liquids and no 'pee anxiety' would happen.

We arrive at the testing center. We begin to fill out paperwork. I discover I left my license somewhere on my bedroom floor but luckily have my trusty OU Student ID. I feel pretty dumb as I was speeding along I-35 instead of going the speed limit. I can just see showing the officer my student ID and hoping he is a Sooners fan so I don't get slammed with a ticket.

McStudent takes his drug test first as he finished filling out the paper work before I did. I wait and twiddle my thumbs and read some of my textbook. He comes back and sits next to me. We wait.

After five to ten (maybe more) minutes, he looks at me. "Did they forget about you?"

"I was wondering the same thing," I said. Though it was more mumbled.

McStudent stands up to find out if theyh forgot me only to discover they are about to call my name. Hooray!

I go and take my drug test. The Diet Dr. Pepper I chugged helps the process be a smooth and quick one.

When I walk back into the lobby, McStudent is gone. I look outside, thinking maybe he is on the cell phone. No luck there. So I go back inside and ask one of the nurses if they know where he is. Maybe the Gatorade he drank is catching up with him again. But they have no clue.

So I wait. I go outside and stand for a few minutes, then go back inside and sit. I am feeling quite dumb as I am ready to go but can not leave McStudent.

He walks in with a Game Stop bag in hand. I stand up and double over with laughter as I exit the wonderful clinic.

"I was hoping you wouldn't go that quickly," he said.

"You bought a video game?" I ask. "That's proof of a true boy. He walks in for a drug test and leaves with a new video game."

Sunday, June 18, 2006

caboooooooooooo here we come

This weekend has been what we call a girls' weekend.

It all began on Friday. Rachel, Brandy, and I met for lunch at Panera Bread thanks to my nifty one-hour lunch break from work. I went back to work, and they soon went to their own respective jobs as we have yet to find sugar daddy's to fund our lives.

After work, Rachel and I were set to take a nap together. A Joey/Ross nap if you will. Instead we played with her brand new cell phone and downloaded ringtones for her new phone and for my phone. This was also when we burned the Summer Girls (coming to a theatre near you on July 26, 2006) soundtrack.

Rachel then took a nap without me while Brandy and I went running. After it was time to shower and make ourselves look presentable for the midnight showing of The Lake House where it proceeded to pour. This resulted in running (well not running really as I had an umbrella and we were in my car so I walked and they got very, very wet while I remained dry) to the car and then barely surviving the drive along I-35 due to Oklahoma's lack of drainage systems anywhere in the state.

Saturday began slowly until Solene, Alode (Rachel and I's two new roommates), and I met Brandy at the mall for some shopping. Rachel was still in her pajamas at 3pm so she didn't get to go.

During this excursion, I acted as the boyfriend. This means I was the one sitting and waiting while everyone tried on clothes and debated over whether or not to buy anything.

Eventually Brandy joined me. She sat on the floor, her back pressed against one of the floor-length mirrors, and I remained in the chair. That's when it happened, when I mentioned the gloriousness of Spring Break and how amazing a trip to Cabo would be for that week.

Brandy agreed. I said (several times) "I really want to go to Cabo". And she responded with a jaw dropping smile and said "Oh we're going to Cabo".

In order to do this, money must be saved. Brandy and I started that yesterday as I spent under $40 at Victoria's Secret and we each only got one drink while out last night at Champion's for dinner.

Then there is the fact that we all (Rachel, Brandy, and I) proceeded to get our hair cut at the mall, and I got mine dyed as well.

Yes. Saving money. We are so good at it.

Still, Cabooooooooooooooo Spring Break '07!

Saturday, June 17, 2006

really we aren't that clique-ish

Rachel: These potatoes really are better than anything we could ever make.
Me: Shh! I hid the evidence so he wouldn't know I hadn't made them from scratch.
Rachel: Oh.
Dean: Hey, if they're made at home, they're homecooked. Food is food.

I knew there was a reason we had him in our summer group which now has rules to it (Rachel and I decided last night as we waited to enter the movie theatre for a midnight showing of The Lake House).

Brandy was talking to someone she knew. As Brandy knows someone everywhere we go.

The rules are simple. No hanging out with anyone outside of the summer group unless other people from the summer group are busy. Then when the majority of the summer group is free, one must stop spending time with other friends in order to see the summer group.

It's nice to have a group for the summer. And we (the girls) even have our own soundtrack. Now all we need is a movie script and we're set to make millions.

Friday, June 16, 2006

boys always get in the way because i allow it

In high school, boys were my life. My dad used to say that I didn't want a boyfriend; I wanted a pet. To an extent, this was true. I often treated boys like pets. Not that I told them what to do, but I pouted a lot and looked for affirmation in them. It wasn't that I needed them to like me or that I needed a boyfriend, but I needed to know I was cared for and that someone could take care of me should I need it.

I got let down doing this. There's one May '02 night that is clearly stamped in my memory bank as a big huge letdown by the boy who was my best friend, had been my best friend for two years. I pulled away from him for this, and I still miss him four years later. He was the boy to drive me around when I was crying so hard I couldn't see. He was the one who would walk to the pool to see me while I was working. And he walked after a 2-3 hour football practice.

There was a new boy my senior year of high school. And then another when I went off to SFASU.

In fact, there were always boys. It's a common theme in the life of many girls. We look to boys for our self-worth and confidence. How can I love myself if he doesn't love me? What can I change about myself to get him to pay attention to me?

And I changed a lot. I was blonde. I stopped eating. I dumbed down. I got to a point where I claimed I couldn't do anything for myself. All in the name of a boy. That's not worth it because I lost myself in the process. At 16, 17, and 18, I didn't know who I was because everything was wrapped up in the hope of a boy.

Now I try not to allow that to happen. It's not always easy because sometimes it seems life would be much simpler if I reverted to my old ways. To partying and allowing anything to happen and being whatever anyone wants me to be. But I refuse to do that.

I don't claim to be indepent all the time. And I won't lie and say I don't like attention from boys because I do. I like attention a lot. But it's different now. I want positive attention. I want more than a boy who snakes his arm around a girl's waist and hisses into her ear to see if he can buy her a drink. I want more than random make-out sessions at bars. It hurts me to see other girls allowing those sorts of things to happen and taking it as affirmation because I am reminded of how I once was and how much it physically hurt me and made me sick. I learned, the hard way, that boys like that tear you down over and over again. And eventually you come to a breaking point where you can't feel any lower.

Plenty of breaking points exist in life. School and what am I going to do with my life in 10 years and how much farther do I have to run tonight and I can't possibly work any longer or harder than I already am. Added breaking from boys is not unneccessary.
Never make someone your everything 'cause when they leave, you're left with nothing.

That's how I feel about the random drunk boys, the ones whose attention I wanted. I wanted to be the girl who walked into the bar and made every head turn. But I gave bits of my heart away by doing that, almost to the point that I had nothing left to give- not even anything for myself.

And so I am learning to depend more on myself than on boys. I am collecting the pieces of my heart and putting them back together. It won't ever be perfect, and I may never finish the puzzle. But I am making an effort.

I am also allowing myself to grow closer to the girls in my life and to make sure friendships with these girls last. It is so easy to allow petty things to get in the way. And I have done that many more times than I care to admit. But I am fighting for friendships this time.

The only real way to appreciate something is to lose it. At least that is what the cliche statement is. How true can this be? Can we really only love if we have lost it once and then fought to get it back?

I don't want to spend my life fighting. I don't want to always strive to keep my head above water. I want to enjoy. I want to float along and then swim when I need to; I don't want to be constantly treading water.

And I treaded water when I was younger. Sometimes I still do. I revert back to my old self where I put the boy, any boy, first before my friends. I hate it; I deny it. But I do. And I catch myself in the process and feel guilty later. After all what has this boy done for me that is so much better than what my girl friends do for me, other than be born male?

I think it's a girl thing. We crave being taken care of and the thrill of pursuit. How wonderful is it to receive flowers? Or to know that he is going to call you, that you don't have to call him.

Of course as a girl I tend to sometimes think things are more than what they are. Or I used to. Now I just wait. And I enjoy. Moments of pure bliss occur, and sometimes those moments are with boys. But more often they are with my girl friends who make me laugh so hard that my stomach hurts the next day and my eyes are red from the happy tears I cried.

So I guess it comes down to knowing yourself. That's what I am focusing on. I need to know myself, to realize that I am strong and can take care of myself. Yes, I want someone else to do the manual labor, but really I am capable of doing it myself.

I just like to call someone else to change the lightbulbs and paint the walls. And cook. But I do my own laundry and clean my bathroom and occassionally take the trash out.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

i just can't wait for my ten year reunion.. only i can

Summer is a favorite season of mine. In fact, I think 75% of the world claims summer as the favorite season. The reasons for this are endless. Sunny skies, swimming in the pool, blossoming flowers, little tank tops, short shorts, flip-flops, stuffing sweater in the back of the closet, and etc.

I love all these things. But this summer I find myself appreciating the season for a new reason.

Since I am taking classes through the end of July (and actively searching for a third job or some source of extra income), I don't get a real summer vacation. There is no break from real life.

I am taking the classes in Oklahoma. In Norman to be exact. I never realized how much of a college town Norman truly is. I stayed here over Winter Break, but the town was stilll busy. It's why it took us fifteen minutes to find parking at the Sooner Fashion Mall.

By taking classes here, I experience a whole new college life. It is a life in which I don't have a million different people to see or hundreds of names to remember and just as many people to facebook. Instead, I have a group of people I see on a daily basis. The group this summer consists of Rachel, Brandy, Dean, and myself.

Over Winter Break, the group was Keith, Rachel, Lance, and I. Now those boys are off wherever they are, so Rachel and I have adopted new people. And so far it's turned out wonderfully.

I love this summer for the late night conversations, the daily workout sessions. Of course I don't like the daily workout sessions right now because my abs are killing and all I want to do is sleep. I love the Bacardi drinking, Lion King watching memories. I really love the late night, homecooked dinners. And we're hoping for a few random, extremely miniature road trips through Oklahoma whenever there is free time to be found. There is also the current diet that Brandy and I have decided to go on. No ice cream and one or two soda's a day. And drinking lots of FIJI water.

Last night, after studying on campus for almost two hours, Brandy and I went to Wal-Mart. It was empty. That's another reason I love Norman in the summer. You can go to Wal-Mart at midnight and not wait in-line. It is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I grabbed two six-packs of FIJI water off the shelf. One of the stockers at Wal-Mart looked down at me and laughed. "Is that water really worth it?"

I looked at him as did Brandy. We nodded. "Yes."

"But is it $6 worth it?" Another stocker asked.

My jaw dropped as I placesd the second six-pack in the cart. "We're poor college students. And we're willing to pay for $6 water. Yes, it is worth it! It's amazing."

Saturday, June 10, 2006

the question lingers and will continue to linger because an answer does not exist

Sometimes I wonder why I attend the University of Oklahoma. I love the town, the college, and the people. Still my family has no affiliation to it. The only affiliation my family has to any large university is to the University of Michigan and, I think, Michigan State from when my aunt and uncle attended college. Other than that, my parents both went to Albion College in Albion, Michigan. It's a small private school that I wanted to go to after visiting with my dad during my junior year of high school. The only reason being it was in Michigan, a good two day's drive away from everything Texas represented at that time.

That didn't happen, obviously. When I left home for college and a higher education the first time, I went to Stephen F. Austin State University. A part of my heart and my life continues to linger there in Nacogdoches, Texas. I have friends there who I miss. And I often wish I had been able to experience more of the Eastern Texas life. But I left after an extremely hard year and moved home for a semester to work in retail.

I decided on OU for a variety of reasons. One being that is was an 8 hour drive from Katy. Now that drive is 7 hours; I have mastered I-35 S and learned to love 290 and TX-6. The other being that they had an excellent English program. I had this idea in my head that I would take nothing but writing classes, that all of my professors would flatter me with words that reaffirmed what I already knew: at the age of 19, I was the next great American novelist and Oprah Winfrey was anxiously waiting to be my best friend.

Much like Joey Potter in Dawson's Creek, who gets her first C, I found out how wrong I was. And I got puched more than I could remember. There were compliments, mixed with true criticism that strengthened me. I still pull out copies with handwritten remarks in hopes of learning something new about how to write.

Now I am a journalism major. While in Austin, I was told that I should go to UT because they have a great journalism program. Of course this was said by a graduate of Texas. And if you know anything about large schools, you know that UT and OU hate each other to the point of having to hold the football game in Dallas so that everyone can come and tailgate, even if they aren't going to the game.

But OU has a great journalism college. I am determined to make this major stick, to get out of school and take the obligatory picture with my diploma and smiling parents who are thinking "our bank account is actually going to have money in it again".

The question remains still of why OU. When I transferred to OU, I was given the chance to go anywhere I wanted. Pretty much. I looked into going to school in Arizona and in Alabama. I even entertained the thought of moving out to California or up to Michigan, though I knew my parents would freak out if that happened. But the truth is that I am happy here.

When I say that I don;t mean I am content or okay with being here. I mean that I am actually happy. And glad to be here and feel like I am meant to be right where I am. Because I found myself in Oklahoma. I learned how to be comfortable with who I am as a person. I found people like me, which never hapened in Texas.

And for the next two years, I can ready myself for moving to NYC or San Fran or somewhere in Michigan or Seattle where I will find even more of myself, where I will learn that I'm not so different, I'm really more of a carbon copy of a lot of people and hey that's okay.

Friday, June 09, 2006

the only reason i am not pulling my hair out or stomping in anger is because i am laughing

Tourist girl [standing in middle of busy sidewalk]: Oh, excuse me! [spins around] Oh! [turns around] Omigod! Like, I just ran into like four people and I'm not even walking!
City guy: Try walking.
Tourist girl: What?
City guy [reluctantly drawn in]: Look, in New York most people aboveground get where they're going by walking. The sidewalks are the main roads in the city.
Tourist girl: [blank stare]
City guy [getting frustrated]: If you were driving on a busy road, you wouldn't just stop or take random turns in traffic without checking your mirrors or signaling, right?
Tourist girl: How do I signal?
--43rd & Broadway

Tourist chick: Know what would be awesome? If we could manage to not sound like assholes for like 10 minutes.
Tourist guy: We're from Ohio.
--PATH train

Well, Christy works with three people who are getting sex changes.
Guy: Yeah, but she works at a vegan restaurant.
--Ave A & St. Mark's Place

Teen girl #1: Hey, can I borrow your Nirvana CD to burn? My iPod erased my mp3s.
Teen girl #2: I wish I had it! I like, traded it away for a pack of cigarettes.
Teen girl #1: Woah... that's so, Kurt Cobain of you!
Teen girl #2: Hello. Totally why I did it.
--6 train

Overheard in New York

i love a lot of things (at the moment); in a few days i may hate everything

Customer service: Is your desktop on the screen of your laptop?
Customer: Yes.
Customer service: Okay, go ahead and close all windows.
Customer: My apartment does not have any windows

Right now, I love: being cooked for, singing Disney songs, the techno version of Kiss the Girl, talking until 3am, tee-shirts from The Dizzy Rooster as well as from The Chuggin Monkey, sleep, coffee with creme brulee creamer, wearing sweatpants, crafts, starting book clubs with friends, the most random phone calls, not sleeping, knowing that I can write leads for my journalism class, actually seeing the sun during the day, tanning beds, laughing so hard it physically hurts and you simply can not stop, and birthday cake ice cream.

Oh and I love The Hills. It's pretty amazing.

I also love that I only have 55 days before I will be in New York City for four days, three nights with my anazingly cool and awesome roomie, Morgan, and a beloved friend who makes me squeal with excitement, Susan. Good times will ensue.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

life back in texas

Hi sweetie,
This packing, sorting and planning on so short a schedule is making things nuts (or me nuts) around here, however, Dad and I are going to Moody Gardens this weekend with Marine Max. That's because we need a break, I hope I don't regret it.
Love YOU Lots and Lots,

I can actually hear my mom's voice when I read this email. Specifically the end. When she says 'we', my mom actually means 'dad wants to go so we are and I have no say'. Perhaps I know this from the conversation I had with her on the phone earlier today, but I would like to believe I am aware of the 411 because I know how she works, how my dad works, how their relationship works.

As far as the packing, sorting, and planning is concerned, well, there is a lot of work to be done and only a small amount of time to do it in. You see, as soon as my brother graduated from high school, my parents decided to get the heck out of Katy. Which is a common occurence now as so many kids have graduated and so many parents have realized their children come back only when forced to or when presents/money is involved. With this in mind, my parents decided to buy a house, a house that was supposed to be smaller than the house they currently live in but a house with enough room for my brother and I to each have a bedroom.

Instead, my parents are building a new house that is just a bit smaller than the house I spent 16 years claiming as my permament address. It was home for 13 of those years; then I went to college.

I am pleased for them. There's no reason to remain in Katy when they spend so much time in Clear Lake, which is where the new house is being built. But I was prepared for them to move in, say, late August or early September. I barely went through my things while home in May as I was going to pick what I wanted to keep and toss all the leftover stuffed animals and grotesquely out of style shoes then. Now, I just have to trust my mom to not throw out anything important and I have to prepare myself for spending a few days in an apartment when I sleep in Houston before and after my NYC trip with Morgan.

I'm not sad that they are moving. I am excited; I've wanted to live somewhere other than Katy for years. I didn't exactly have the best time living there. Things within the family were fine; it was the rest of the Katy world I had a hard time dealing with. High school will do that to you. But, according to my writing professor, awful high school experiences breed wonderful authors. Hopefully that turns out to be true.

And, besides, when they move I can go to the Yacht Club and have a drink by the pool knowing the drive home is only a short one. And I can hang out at Kemah at night, sulking about the lack of a boyfriend to win me stuffed animals at the rigged carnival games. Or maybe I'll just enjoy some good ole seafood.

i want conversations like this

Visiting salesgirl: Hi, I'm here to see Carrie Bradshaw.
Receptionist: Do you mean Carrie Schwartz?
Visiting salesgirl: No, I'm pretty sure her name was Carrie Bradshaw.
Receptionist: We don't have a Carrie Bradshaw. Carrie Bradshaw is from Sex and the City.

thank you,

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

nighttime photography

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

sometimes nights are made for quoting

"We're like a bunch of guys sitting around, drinking beer, and watching movies."
"Except we're girls. And we're drinking Scmirnoff."
"And Bacardi."
"And we're watching The Lion King."


"Good movie. I watch it all the time with my kids."
"Did he say he watches it with his kids?"
"Not a good way to pick up chicks, Mr. Pizza Delivery Guy Man."


"I'm so over it."
"I love how she says she is over it and over him, like, fifteen times."
"I am."
"Uh huh."
"Okay. I really really want to be over it."
"Wait for it, wait for it."
"I'm so over him."

Monday, June 05, 2006

still recovering from a hangover of a weekend

I wore heels this weekend. Up and down 6th Street during Biker Rally Weekend, I wore heels. It was bearable on Friday night as they were brand new, absolutely adorable shoes I purchased from Nordstrom's. We had spent a few hours laying out near Barton Springs and detoxing in the spring, the water re-hydrating our constant state of "I-need-water-now-and-sweating-is-making-it-worse". And I was as red as a lobster, so I bought cute brown heels to offset my redness.

And I danced in these heels, fell on my ass in these heels while dancing, waiting in line to use the restroom at The Chuggin Monkey. But the next night, wearing white sandals with a much larger heel from Target, I was in pain.

At least the wedding was in the Austin Children's Museum. So there was carpet, and I went barefoot like the true Southern girl I am. I called myself white trash, as that label made some sort of sense as I held a margarite in one hand and the shoes in the other hand. Of course I complained and complained as we walked two or so blocks to the Ginger Man. Then I went back and forth between wearing shoes and not wearing shoes while there. It was emptier than 6th Street, thankfully, so I felt safe enough to not always wear my heels the entire way. If that doesn't prove that I am from the south, I don't know what else to tell you.

And The Hostel we stayed at worked out quite well. It was a cheap cab ride away from Austin's thriving nightlife and safe enough for our tastes. Of course I appreciate the hotels I've stayed in even more, but I could hardly afford the Econolodge we got in Kansas so there was no way I would be able to pay for a hotel in Austin of all places.

Coming back into Oklahoma yesterday, I got to stop and see my best friend from high school! She and I met up at the Bass Pro Shop right near DFW. I told my dad that, and he laughed. I might be from the south, but I don't really enjoy Bass Pro Shop, other than the kicking aquarium there and all the Jeff Foxworthy things they have. Because I love Jeff Foxworthy and discovering that I fit the framework he has set up of what a redneck is.

So she and I ate chips + queso. I nursed a Bloody Mary for my hangover, and she downed a beer. It was a beautiful little set-up. And it has been so amazing to see her as often as I have. Too much time went by without even short phone conversations, so the quality time has been needed.

I appreciate Oklahoma more now. Yes, I loved Austin. In fact I could see myself moving there and enjoying the city, the real city as in the city I saw while at The Ginger Man and resting by Barton Springs (because how awesome would it be to swim laps and work out at Barton Springs). But for now, I am glad to be in Norman, even if I was told repeatedly that Oklahoma sucks.

Plus. I don't spend my weekends hungover until it is time to go out again while in Oklahoma. I mean I am sure I could used to it, especially if I stole the margarita machine from the wedding. But for now, I'll stick to nursing lots of diet dr. pepper's and wearing the tee-shirts I just ordered that will let everyone know I was in Austin during Biker Rally Weekend.