I was an ugly newborn. Pink, vaguely mole-rat-looking, splotchy, just ugly. So when I see really cute babies, I swoon. And, let's be real: African American babies are the cutest of all. Right around 3 years old is best. Right when they're really chatting and they still have chunky baby features.
We went to a friend's graduation party this weekend and I met and fell in love with Dallas. He had a foam sword that he carried around and tried to slay everyone with. He found me and tried to kill me and then I chased him for about an hour. I taught him the acting skill of fake dying. That was amusing. Then we went to leave.
Me: Dallas, do you want to come live with us?
Him: No!
Me: Please?
Him: OK
Then we were talking to his mom:
Me: Your son is adorable. I asked him if he'd come with me but he said no.
Mom: Dallas, do you want to go home with them?
Him: Yes. I'm brining my sword.
Mom: OK
Him: Where's my jacket???
Be careful what you wish for! Like a teen mom, I hadn't thought of what life with a 3-year-old might be like so I'm glad his mom decided to keep him. I felt like I had to sneak out, betraying the little fella.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Behold: The Cryptic Reconnect
As Nicole says, I get all the good stuff.
It used to be every Christmas or so during college when old boyfriends, realizing they were back home, alone, would feel compelled to contact me. "Hey....it's been so long....what are you up to?" (Read: Are you seeing anyone??). I say this with no ego, it just used to happen.
And now, with the advent of facebook, the trend continues. Now that I'm older it's more with old friends. Remember the girl I FORCED to go to the health center to get a pregnancy test after unprotected sex with her boyfriend who refused to speak to me after that? Well, we're facebook friends now!
So today, when I checked facebook and had the most cryptic message from someone with 2 friends, no photo and a fake name, I was freaked out. I at first thought it was spam but then the details of the message were so clear and real that I was left in a "do I know you?" moment.
Message from: FAKE NAME
Title: My name is not FAKE NAME
Message text: I do recall however, enjoying a film with you and "I haaaaaaate it" one, Punch Drunk Love, and then being assaulted by an angry woman Bible. See if that jogs the old noodle! Dana Point representin!
.....
What the what?
So I just wrote back: Am I supposed to guess who you are?
Of course, it turned out to be a friend I didn't mind reconnecting with who does amazing charity work and lives on the other side of the planet. No implied creepy booty call.
It's funny how reconnects like this take you back. The night he was talking about, my BFF and another girl I'd been trying to befriend went to his house to watch that movie. The other girl was a nutty Holy Roller and used to be SO MAD if anything was said that was anything but Christly. That night we drove home and she refused to speak to Nicole and I. She ended up dating the best friend of my old boyfriend who was a real jerk, karma rules.
Todd told me: You know too many people. When you only know 4 people, you can be certain that crap is spam.
Nicole, of course, guessed the mystery person on the first try.
In sum, if you want to be my friend, just call me or email me. I am actually quite nice.
It used to be every Christmas or so during college when old boyfriends, realizing they were back home, alone, would feel compelled to contact me. "Hey....it's been so long....what are you up to?" (Read: Are you seeing anyone??). I say this with no ego, it just used to happen.
And now, with the advent of facebook, the trend continues. Now that I'm older it's more with old friends. Remember the girl I FORCED to go to the health center to get a pregnancy test after unprotected sex with her boyfriend who refused to speak to me after that? Well, we're facebook friends now!
So today, when I checked facebook and had the most cryptic message from someone with 2 friends, no photo and a fake name, I was freaked out. I at first thought it was spam but then the details of the message were so clear and real that I was left in a "do I know you?" moment.
Message from: FAKE NAME
Title: My name is not FAKE NAME
Message text: I do recall however, enjoying a film with you and "I haaaaaaate it" one, Punch Drunk Love, and then being assaulted by an angry woman Bible. See if that jogs the old noodle! Dana Point representin!
.....
What the what?
So I just wrote back: Am I supposed to guess who you are?
Of course, it turned out to be a friend I didn't mind reconnecting with who does amazing charity work and lives on the other side of the planet. No implied creepy booty call.
It's funny how reconnects like this take you back. The night he was talking about, my BFF and another girl I'd been trying to befriend went to his house to watch that movie. The other girl was a nutty Holy Roller and used to be SO MAD if anything was said that was anything but Christly. That night we drove home and she refused to speak to Nicole and I. She ended up dating the best friend of my old boyfriend who was a real jerk, karma rules.
Todd told me: You know too many people. When you only know 4 people, you can be certain that crap is spam.
Nicole, of course, guessed the mystery person on the first try.
In sum, if you want to be my friend, just call me or email me. I am actually quite nice.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
oh dear Jesus
So. Bloody. Overwhelmed.
I spent a good hour last night sobbing about how overwhelmed I feel. There's really nothing more pathetic than a grown woman driving and crying. I obviously knew these two weeks would be difficult, but I don't think I planned for how awful I'd actually feel.
I feel like I'm not doing anything well. I keep skipping out on my exercise plan, the apartment is a horror film mess, I'm behind in reading for one class and have a giant paper looming, I thought I was on the right track in the other class and turns out my paper is terrible and nowhere near completion, I'd tried to finish something early so the professor could look at that but we didn't get to it because of how awful my other assignment was, I haven't gotten anything together for mother's day, I haven't paid any of the bills, it's just a sad state of affairs over here.
I'll get through it, I always do but it's more painful than usual. Thank god for Todd. And for the cats. Buggy just sat next to me and told me a million stories while I pet her. Last night, during the pathetic crying jag, Todd took my shoes off while I lay face down on the bed sobbing like a child and helped me into some pajamas. What a mess.
As a pallate cleanser, please enjoy the following article from my favorite author about his view on education. I have a brain crush on Dave Eggers and wish I was running 836 Valencia. DREAM Job.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/
I spent a good hour last night sobbing about how overwhelmed I feel. There's really nothing more pathetic than a grown woman driving and crying. I obviously knew these two weeks would be difficult, but I don't think I planned for how awful I'd actually feel.
I feel like I'm not doing anything well. I keep skipping out on my exercise plan, the apartment is a horror film mess, I'm behind in reading for one class and have a giant paper looming, I thought I was on the right track in the other class and turns out my paper is terrible and nowhere near completion, I'd tried to finish something early so the professor could look at that but we didn't get to it because of how awful my other assignment was, I haven't gotten anything together for mother's day, I haven't paid any of the bills, it's just a sad state of affairs over here.
I'll get through it, I always do but it's more painful than usual. Thank god for Todd. And for the cats. Buggy just sat next to me and told me a million stories while I pet her. Last night, during the pathetic crying jag, Todd took my shoes off while I lay face down on the bed sobbing like a child and helped me into some pajamas. What a mess.
As a pallate cleanser, please enjoy the following article from my favorite author about his view on education. I have a brain crush on Dave Eggers and wish I was running 836 Valencia. DREAM Job.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/
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