It's always been sunny in.....Austin.

To reiterate my point, I AM NOT GOOD AT BLOGGING. But, at least I remembered today! The SMF (special man friend) and I went a-walkin last night. On 6th street. Don't ask why but we did. I got yelled at by a homeless crackhead lady (Stay out of my fuckin' business!!!! is what she said) and a zerbert blown at me. For those who don't know, zerberts are when you stick your tongue out and blow "zeeeerrrrrrrrrrrbbbbbbbeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrtttttttttt!!!" I thought it was just a one time thing but again, today, I got spoken to in an unfavorable tone. What is it? Do I look funny, smell bad, have a weird face? Maybe people just hate the way I look? Who knows.

SO, on a completely unrelated note, I got farted on today. That's right, a kid was sitting on my lap and farted on me. Why would someone do that? Even at 6, I like to believe that I knew better than to pass gas on someone's lap. Especially a nice lady teacher. But sure enough, I heard it. And smelled it later. Gross!

Um, sorry.....?

So, sorry I haven't written for a while. Few things been happening here:
1. LP is back! Hooray! We are having fun!!!! He's my lovely man slave-no car (so he can't leave), does things around the house (that I don't want to do) and hookin' up! Woo-mutha-f-in-hoo!

2. Got clocked in the face today. By a 4 year old. It was awesome. He then told me that he loved me, even though he hit me. Sounds like an abusive hubby to me.....I may have to lay the smack down. But I love him so much....sigh.....HA!

3. I'm broke. As a joke!

4. Not much else going on, try to write more later but not tomorrow- PROJECT RUNWAY, suckas!!!!

Big changes a-coming

LP is on his way back Thursday. It's sure to bring a few changes in my world. We will have to see........

In other news, I had a relaxing and interesting weekend. I went to a lecture on Friday. That's right, like the dork I am, Friday evening from 6:30-9:30 I was rockin it at a lecture on one of the new "methods" to help autism. It was.....interesting...? The lady's name is Soma something or another and she's been all over the news, local and national, so it was informative. But also....interesting......

Saturday I had a really productive morning, ended by a call from a drunk friend at 11. In the morning. That's right, still drunk. What does any good friend do? Go over, take the drink out of his hand and put him to bed. I also had a run in with Time Warner on behalf of Eric. I yelled at a poor girl named Kristin and unfortunately, she got the raw end of the deal. Those who know me will attest to my sometimes sarcastic nature and that's waht she got. Bad me! I need to control my temper, especially since the whole thing had NOTHING to do with me! I mean, it wasn't my cable or anything but did that stop me from going all batshit crazy on this poor girl? Oh no. In fact, Eric eventually called her back and apologized for his "wife" (HAHAHAHA!) because he heard the tail end of it.
ME: So, when are you coming?
Kristin: He'll be there in about 30-45 minutes because he's stuck in traffic because of the game.
ME: Well KRIS-tin, what time do you have?
K: About 5 til 5.
ME: That's funny because I do too. So if I add 45 minutes to that, it would be about 5:45 and didn't you guys say you'd be here at 5?
K: Well ma'am, he's stuck in traffic.
ME: That's funny KRIS-tin, because if it were me and I knew there was a game with a kickoff at 6, I think I would make sure that I had all the south people taken care of first. SO I DIDN'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH TRAFFIC!!!!!!

It went on for a while, me being bitchy and her sound exasperated with me. Not my finest moment. Maybe one day I will learn to control this little bit of temper I have. I mean, it would be nice to be able to have a civilized discussion with people of power instead of being all sarcastic and rude.

It looked like spilled milk. Or ringworm.

I had a lovely morning yesterday- you know, the kind where you hit the snooze button too many times and jump up thinking of all the things that need to be done while stressing about how late you are? That's the kind. As I am drying my hair (with a quickness) I always hold it while it's on between my knees instead of turning it on and off and on and off and on and off and yada yada yada. I go to jam it between the knees and it instead goes directly onto my thigh. Yes, my sweet little thigh who does so much for me everyday, carrying me around, running faster, climbing stairs was subjected to the most intese heat of it's life. On the end of the hairdryer the nozzle has a metal grid-looking thing, which heats up REALLY hot when it's on. When this connected with my poor thigh, it burned it. And it hurt. But I didn't really see anything so I thought I got lucky and it would be ok. When I got in the car, my leg was still hurting. I lift my dress and - ta da! - there is a lovely burn. In the shape of the nozzle. Which is a circle. So what does it look like? Um-hm, ringworm. With some horizontal lines around the circle. I am a dummy.

Exhausted

I'm so flippin exhausted right now. School is back in action and that means that I am once again totally wiped out. I will give you just a brief timeline of my first few days.
Monday:
6:45 I arrive at school (early, right?)
7:25 kids come in
7:45 bell rings
7:46 kiddo runs out the door
7:50 I catch him
7:51 he kicks me
8:02 walk with the itty bitty kiddies to breakfast
8:04 one throws up
8:15 back to class
8:17 outside time ("push me on the swing" "chase me" "slide down the slide with me" "come look at the leaves with me" "let me throw dirt in your hair")
9:00 potty time, how it takes 8 3-5 year olds 30 minutes to pee is beyond me but it does
9:35 utter chaos, aka "free centers" - this is where they proceed to pull every toy off the shelf, spread them all around and run around the room
9:45 the second group arrives so for 2 hours there is twice as many children
9:48 little girl runs around the room as I try to grab her, she's on the table, she's in the bathroom, she's pulling the paper off the bulletin board, she's coloring ON the easel (sans paper), she's on the chair, she's pulling someone's hair, she's throwing a toy, SHE IS EVERYWHERE!!
10:00 I want to eat my arm off and then collapse, unfortunately I have to play "baby" where a child feeds me fake food
10:30 clean up time
11:00 circle/music time
11:01 I jump up to get that same girl as she bolts out of the circle
11:02 I wrap my legs around girl and bribe her to stay with chips
11:45 some kids go home (thank you, Jesus)
11:46 lunch time
I have no idea what happens next because I go into a coma

And so it goes, the rest of the day, for god only knows how many weeks. Someone may need to come rescue me from my couch in the following weekends. If you don't, I may just sit here, staring into space, drooling from the exhaustion.

Olympic musings

As the Olympics come to an end, I will finally get my life back. It's a little bittersweet (I mean, what will I watch without badmiton and diving?????) but as the end draws near, I have been thinking about these Olympics and thought you guys may want to know what I think about them:
1. Michael Phelps- no brainer, I wouldn't mention it but duh! He WAS Beijing.
2. Those Chinese gymnasts- geez, they're tiny. Although, I think that if our girls hadn't been 2nd, we wouldn't have given a flying flip if they were 10 or 20. Plenty of gymnasts have admitted to being underage in the Olympics and we never cared. Because they lost and we won.
3. Decathalon- ok, now I was definitely not understanding this event. I thought it was for people who were just kind of good in a bunch of track events but not good enough to do one really well and that it was one event a day (so 10 days). Uh, wrong. 2 days to do 10 events? What the frecnh toast???? That doesn't even seem possible. How does your body do that? These guys are badass.
4. Lolo- that hurdler girl? She's hot. I'm so jealous and have made her my secret friend.
5. Bolt- fast. The end.
6. The marathon- could any event wear me out any more? God, I get worn out just watching these people. And I'm surprised at how much coverage it gets. Does anyone really want to watch girls/dudes run - FOR HOURS?!?!? B-O-R-I-N-G.
7. Diving- nothing makes me more nervous. Everytime they jump off I'm so afraid they will hit their little heads and get knocked out. My stomach hurts from it and I've chewed off my nails because of it. Damn you, diving!! Oh, and are they all gay?
8. The number 8- I never knew it was a significant number until this year. Thank you China for making me aware of the number 8.

So tomorrow will be a bit of a withdrawl for me with no Olympic sports to watch, but I suppose I'll make it through. At least I'll have my Intervention.

It's batty!

I'm slightly psychotic at times about working out. This has led to many nicknames-gym bunny, gym tranny, crazy, meathead, etc. I get it, I get it, I'm a bit overzealous about hitting the weights and pounding the pavement but in my defense, it keeps me sane. So anyway, I'm a fitness psycho and got up at 4:45 to work out the other morning. I live in a building where I park in a parking garage. Nice. I step into the parking garage and something swoops past my head. Wha? Huh? I'm thinking- wow, it's early and there must be a crazy bird following me, why is it in here, why is it so feisty this early, etc. I start walking and -WHOOSH- again something swoops past. Ok, what the hell? Seriously, I know that the birds and I have a mutual hate relationship but this is getting a little out of hand. Nothings should be swooping past my head this early. So I stop and take a look. WHOOSH. Something flies past but this time I get a good look at it and it's a BAT! Ahhhhh!!! A little brown baby bat! What the heck is a bat doing in my building's garage, swooping around, frightening little workout freaks? Well this thing just keeps swooping, back and forth, back and forth and of course it's doing this in the path of my car. I'm thinking up plans of how to get to my car without this freaking bat swooping on me, flying into my hair, sucking my blood (ok, that's a little overdramatic but you know you'd be thinking that!). What is the option I come up with? Run, screaming and covering my ears all the way to my car. Where I dropped the keys. If someone would have seen me, they would have died laughing. I mean, I don't think it's funny but I could definitely see how someone screaming and running through a parking garage would be a little funny.

My thought for the week

So as every living person in the US knows, the Olympics are on. All the time. Keeping me up too late, making me anxious about things I would normally never care about (ahem, men's swimming relay) and basically running my life. And like everyone else, I've heard ALL about Michael Phelps and his world record-breaking times and all the gold medals, blah, blah, blah. But last night, I started feeling bad for all those other swimmers. I mean, you go to the Olympics, which is a MAJOR big deal, and you win this medal. Maybe not a gold, but jeez! Silver or bronze is awesome. You're one of the top 3 people in the world to do this certain event! So you get off your podium and go talk to Bob Costas or Rowdy Gaines or Matt Lauer (love you, Matt) and what do they want to talk to you about? Michael flippin Phelps. These poor guys just won a medal! This may be the only time they get a medal (you never know!) and what do they get? Someone else's 15 minutes of fame. I mean, I get it- this is a really big deal and it's amazing that he's already won but come on. Not only do I feel bad for the swimmers but I kind of feel bad for every single Olympian (is that a word?) who is there. They are all overshadowed by this. And the ones who win the announcers kind of make it sound like, eh- now back to Michael's next race! I don't know. I'm sure people will disagree with me on this, and I completely recognize the enormity of what Michael Phelps is trying to do, so don't get me worng. But I just feel bad for the other kids!

Fat tummy

I have been the biggest freakin bum lately. Like, sitting on the couch, watching tons of movies, too tired to move, drinking anything I can get my hands on tired. Why? The only thing I can think of is the heat. Or malaria. I'm secretly hoping it's malaria. I've always had this secret fear/hope that I got a really bad kind of sick that wouldn't necessarily kill me but would just make everyone feel sorry for me. Kind of sick, huh? There may be something wrong with my head. I made cookies today. And ate them. It made my tummy so full, I'm sitting here burping it all up.

My biggest news is that LP is coming back. Soon. It should be no surprise then to figure that he'll be living with me for a while. In my large apartment. This should provide LOADS of entertaining stories. The last time he lived with me for about a month, the hilarity started the day he moved in. It was Eric's birthday and LP happened to be moving in at the same time. The unfortunate thing about this was that I only had one elevator key, which we both needed at the same time. I (being the patient, rational person I am) kind of freaked out on him for a little bit and yelled and bitched at him for no real reason. He (being quite aware of my tendency for dramatics at time) smiled and asked me what I would like to do and that he would be more than willing to take care of it all and would join us later. I met up with the friends and immediately felt like a be-yotch. So, later that evening I apologized profusely for snapping at him and told him how mean I was. At this point he smiles and asks me to get a box in the closet. It was a present for me, you know, the bitchy girl who snapped at him. He thought it was hilarious that I was so mean and he had gotten me a present (it was a really awesome glazed bowl from Clarksville Pottery to put my keys and stuff in that I had wanted). And this is what living with me is like-kind of dramatically bipolar crazy. But never boring!

Project Runway

I'm having a real problem this season of Project Runway: I don't really like any of the people on the show (except my dearest Tim). I honestly enjoy this show, even though it's a "reality competition" show (which isn't really my cup of tea). I mean, these people have all really been trying to design clothes. You can't just up and decide that you want to be on PR and go try out. You actually have to know how to design and sew, have a portfolio, and most important, have some creativity. Here's a rundown of the people I can remember on the show, which isn't all of them, and what I know about them that I care about.

Blaine- ugh, if I have to hear one more word that he puts "licious" on the end of, I swear I am may have to start cutting myself to numb my anger. He's so obviously trying to be the young, funny, gay guy that people love. Well, let me know how that goes for you because I personally want to take your thread and needles and sew your flipping mouth shut.

Suede- anyone who talks in third person has some things they need to figure out. Moreso, the blue hair thing weirds me out a little bit. He looks like he popped out of 1996 and should be listening to Alice in Chains.

Keith: I just realized this guy was on the show last night. What's up with his hair? Is that a rat-tail at the bottom? Wha? I haven't seen that since I was in 5th grade and this kid had a really long one that he used to braid and I would always wish he would let me braid it for him. Also, the bandana thing he tries to rock is weird. I feel like he should be painting a house, not designing clothes.

Stella- leather, leather, leather, leather, leather. How boring. Do the judges really think she's gonna pop some awesomely interesting ideas out IN LEATHER?!?!?! she needs to go.

Kenley- I think that's her name. You know, the conceited, 40's inspired girl? that's all I know about her. I do like her bangs though.

Terri- kind of scary girl looking clothes. But I kind of like them. Her? I know nothing about.

And that's it. I know there are other people on the show but I couldn't tell you their names or anything about them. It's so disappointing. I don't watch many tv shows (I'm more of a movie person) so the ones I do watch, I get really excited about. So, boo to you Project Runway, with your changing networks and give up attitude. I am flipping you the bird. From my couch.

This would be why I'm so bad at having a blog

So, it's been a while. Sorry! I don't really have much going on though. I got a new car. For those who didn't know. When I get in, the screen on the dash says "Welcome to Camry" which led me to add "land" to the end. So, I call my new car Camryland. Like a magical place. Only, it's a car. It has a fun auxiallary cord for my iPod so the sound comes through clear, like a cd. Waaayyyy better than the old thing that plugs in to the cigarette lighter. Also, it came with Bluetooth. This has led me to call EVERYONE when I'm in the car. It's so perfect for me. I absolutely hate having a phone on my ear (which is why you're much more likely to get a text from me) but I don't want to text in the car. This sucker comes through my speakers and I talk. No phone on my ear, no button pushing. It is great.

Heading to a concert tonight. Hopefully, it'll be awesome. I'll have to let you know about all that.

Save the best for last

So, I saved my best stories from my trip for last. These are the ones that I will bring out when I have nothing to say to someone I've just met. They're similar to my Prague story (where I threw up on myself on in the cab and then yelled at him).



1. We looked for some music to go see while I was there. I love going to see live shows and I love traveling- why not do both? There's a great paper in London called Time Out that lists all the entertainment type stuff that's going on around the city. So we find this listing for an 80's hair band cover thingy that's going on. Um, awesome? LP calls some of his friends, they're down, so we decide to head there. Now, I don't know if anyone else feels the same about that lovely time period in the 80's where the boys wore makeup and used more hairspray than I did to get my bangs to stay up, but I lovelovelove it. I mean, who can argue that Axl Rose was a force to be reckoned with when he screeched through "Welcome to the Jungle?" Yeah, so step off. Anyway, we get to this place (which is called Barden's Boudoir-how hilarious!) and we walk down the stairs. Yes, this place is in a basement. I'm sure that's shocking considering it's name. When I walk in, I see an extremely tall man spinning around, dancing, long hair flowing from under a trucker hat. He's just rocking out- arms up, turning around, bouncing on the floor. He's also the only person on the dance floor. As the song starts to wind down, he heads over to the DJ table. Because he's the DJ. Interesting how the only person dancing is the DJ. In fact, almost every song that this guy played, he would try to stay behind the table and you could see him just bouncing and then boom, he's off to the dance floor. As I'm sitting and laughing in my head at this guy, the band starts setting up. Now, when I think 80's hair metal, I think Poison, Guns n Roses, Whitesnake. This band was a cover band. For Aerosmith. That's right, I said Aerosmith. We're a little pissed because I mean, Aerosmith? Blech. We're thinking of all the later stuff they put out that's utter crap. What was not taken into consideration was that the lead singer was British and trying to fake an American accent while singing and talking to the crowd (not very well!) and that he was wearing a full, one-piece, black sequined jumpsuit. And he brought Axl Rose with him. These guys really got into the part. I was hoping to hear them or see them just regular for a bit but no way. They were not breaking character for a second. It was possibly the best Aerosmith show I've ever seen. And the only.

2. LP and I rented a car in Dublin so we could drive down the coast and take in the sights. While we were in London, we tried to plan our trip. By that, I mean that LP tried to plan some and I stood in front of the mirror picking my face and saying "Uh-huh, that sounds great. Whatever you want." After about an hour and a half of this (while we were hungover) LP looks over and says something groany about not wanting to do it. I absolutely HATE planning trips. Hate it. I love going somewhere and seeing anything but I do not want to be in charge of figuring it all out. So when he says this, my immediate response is "Don't do it. Leave it alone." This leads to us deciding to just not plan anything. (Reality was more like LP decided to hold off planning, I decided I wouldn't plan at all and that led to us just not doing it.) We set off driving on the left from Dublin and I get to be navigator. I absolutely love being a passenger and I had my map and snacks and I was ready to go. I mapped out for us to head southwest from Dublin, down the coast and stop in a small town called Wexford for the night. We get there and find a bed and breakfast (those assholes are obsessed with B & B's. Me? Not so much but they are cheaper than anything else, so there we were.). After driving all day we were ready for a drink so we walked to a place we saw on the way in. It sucked so we decided to head out and find another place. After about 15 minutes of wandering, we decide on a place that had a sign that said "Beer Garden! Covered and Heated!" Which would be why we decided on it. After having a few drinks, the place starts to crowd up and become kind of lively so we decide we'll stay for a while. I go to the bathroom at one point and think I hear a pipe falling on the floor and the sound of a lighter clicking. Like someone is smoking crack. I go out and this chick with messed up teeth and bleach blonde hair assaults me and wants to be my friend. I won't lie. I'm completely frightened of her. She looks like she would go nuts on me if I didn't do what she wanted. I follow her and make LP come with me to her table where her sister is. They start telling me all these crazy stories involving knives, abuse, drinking, just utter craziness. The first girl I met told me about how she was so upset about her sister that she cut her arms. Then she showed me. Most people would get the hell out of there. I began to lecture her on why it is a bad idea to cut yourself and gave her other options to do instead of cutting yourself. Luckily, I still smoked back then and that gave us the perfect excuse to get the f outta there. We then stumble onto these great young guys and we sit with them for a while, chatted and they eventually invite us to their house. We get some drinks for the road (that's right, you get roadies) and stumble to their house where we all get more drinks and sit around talking. I drink 2 glasses of wine and then find some Pringles and eat them all, only to decide that since it was 3 I should take a nap if LP wanted to hang out more. I lay down and am woken up later to LP shaking me. "We have to go." I ask why. The answer. He had thrown up on these guys floor. And then wiped it up. My response? "How much was it?" We get outta there with a quickness, stumble home, think we're locked out and realize that we have the wrong set of keys so we find the right ones. 4 days later: LP gets his house keys out of his pocket and I ask if he got them from my bag because I saw them there the other day. He says they've been in his pocket so I dig these mysterious keys out and show them to him. They belonged to the poor guy who let us in his house. LP is sending them back this week.

Oh, and check this out

I was talking with LP and he introduced me to this website that I am now in love with. Seriously. If you like to bash on celeb fashion, you'll love this. And I will admit it- I love celebrity bashing. I hate that I even talk about them, but I do. It's my favorite brainless activity. On the plane, I had 3 books - Love In The Time of Cholera, When You Burst Into Flames and In Cold Blood- and 2 celebrity gossip magazines. Not because I think they have great articles. I understand that one of my "kids" (you all know they type of kids I work with) could breeze through this magazine and sum it up for me and I would probably learn more from them than reading this myself, but that's kind of the point. I love stimulating my mind or whatever, but sometimes my brain is tired and it needs an easy score. These magazines are it. Anyway, here's the website:

http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/

Ok, this may be a first

2 days in a row! I have some more stories.

1. The reason I like big cities is that they always have really weird and/or interesting things going on. We went to the Hayward Gallery and they had an exhibit called Psycho Buildings. These were different artists perspectives on architecture. 2 of them were really cool. The first was this huge bubble. Like, the kind of bubble that the boy in bubble would be in, only a thousand times bigger. And people could go in it or on top of it. Now, the weird thing is that when we went, not many people were there. Anyone could go in the bubble, but they made you reach in this bag and pull out a colored ball. If you got the multi-colored ball you got to go on top. I drew a blue one. Now, I understand that if there were a ton of people then you wouldn't want everyone there, climbing on top of this huge bubble thing and possibly popping it but we were the ONLY 2 PEOPLE at this exhibit at the time. Why couldn't we just go up there? Because I had to go and draw a stupid blue ball (ha ha, I go the blue ball). The other exhibit was on the rood in this sunken garden they had. The artists had cleared out the garden and filled it with water. They had also made tiny wooden rowboats and put them in the water. Then, we got to go in the rowboats and row around the roof! So there I was, rowing around a roof, looking at London. Well, I suppose that technically I wasn't rowing, just kind of sitting but whatever.

2. So, one night we decide to go and have some drinks with some of his friends. Now, there are lots of cool areas in London and we were staying in this awesome little part where a lot of interesting people hung out - hipsters, trendy people, hippies, trannies. There they were, all mixed together and hanging out. Now, this crowd also had the tendency (as many interesting people do) to make me feel weird and out of place even though I don't think they're any better than me. Anyway, we go to this bar. It's tiny and dark and there are about 3 booths and a tiny bar. It's pretty much awesome. So, this girl starts dj'ing (I had no idea how to spell that, seeing that I don't use the word "dj" or any form of it very often) and these cool people are all singing and dancing and what do you think she was 'spinning' (is that right?)? Johnny-freakin-Cash. So I start feeling better because, I mean, hello! I'm from the land of country music. So, they should feel awkward and uncomfortable, not me. Boo-ya! After listening to the seriously awesome music she was playing (I have to admit it, really she was playing some great old music) we decide to go to this place called Cargo. To get there, you go down an alley and through a tiny door and there you are. Listening to a great 70's soul band. About this time is when we are all wasted, taking the most expensive shots ever (they weren't an expensive liquor, everything's just expensive there) and we decide that we are going to go to this place called the Russian Bar. When we go into the Russian Bar, my ears are assaulted by the worst Eurotrash techno ever. Thankfully, we were going downstairs. Where there was a stripper pole and even worse music than upstairs. Hooray! As I am sitting there, a huge black man walks out of the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror, wipes his nose and then faux-punches himself in the mirror. That is the type I was at. It was great. Seriously. When will I ever see things like this? Keep Austin Weird? No no, keep London weird.

That didn't work out so well....

Sorry! My attempt to post a blog while I travel did NOT work out. Ya know, it's really hard to see a bunch of stuff AND have time to write about it. I barely had time to take pictures of what we did, much less get on a computer and tell everyone about it. On that note, I will now try to give you some highlights and thoughts on my trip.

1. On overseas flights, you get a few meals. I get really excited about it (why? who knows. it's like hospital food, which i also like. i'm gross. ). Sometimes there's a cute little sandwich, sometimes it's a weird congealed mess of "chicken" and "sauce" and sometimes you get a warm croissant. Those are the best. Anyway, when you buy your ticket AND AGAIN when you check in, you can indicate if you have any special dietary needs that need to be addressed. I take this to mean a nut allergy or diabetes but it also apparently includes vegetarians. Fine. Everytime I take these flights though, there is a person in my row or the row ahead or somewhere close to me who makes a HUGE deal about how they signed up for a veggie meal and they don't eat meat and they need someone to get them the vegetarian meal so they can eat because they paid for it. It irritates the SHIT out of me. First, uh, yeah lady. I'm sure that all the other people who requested it got it, except you. The airlines are only after you (not all of us, just you) and they way they wanted to get you was not giving you some vegetables. Second, why are we catering to someone's choice? I mean, we ALL get the same stuff except you. Because you CHOSE to be a vegetarian. I get the serious needs but these ladies have struck me as the vegetarian-by-choice kind of gals. Third, why even get pissed? We are over an ocean. The food has already been put on the plane. What would you like the poor flight crew to do? Plants some carrots, grow them and give them to you? They have nothing to give you! Nothing! So please don't yell at them and make us all uncomfortable when you're dumb ass should have at least brought some snacks for our 8 hour flight. I did.

2. I booked a few hotels, you know, so I had a place to sleep. I did this all in the same day thinking that I would be less likely to screw it up if I had the timeline laid out, booked the hotels in order and planned it that way. Well, I was wrong. The last night, we were going to stay close to Paddington Station so that we could mess around in the morning and then LP would just throw me on the train and I'd be there. So when did I book this hotel for? The first night. Which I had also booked a hotel. I did not realize this until Friday though, which means that I paid for a hotel that I never stayed in. To punish myself, I stayed with LP instead of getting another hotel. In his tiny little room.

3. I don't know if you guys knew that I was getting a surprise, but I was. On Tuesday at 1 I had a surprise coming to me. I guessed all kinds of things: a haircut, an audition for a musical, a hot air balloon ride, meeting the Queen. It was not any of these things, but something much better. A Duck Tour!!! You know, those things that go on land AND in the water. So it went all around Westminster and Trafalgar Square and then into the Thames. In my book, that spells F-U-N! LP had always said that he would never go on this in Austin (his logic- he knows what's in Austin so why go on a tour? because it goes on land and in the water!!) so I was so amazed that he would plan this. It was awesome. And really sweet of him to plan it and go on it.

I'm tired of writing, but I'll give you more special little stories from my trip because I haven't even broken the surface.

I'm leavin', on a jet plane....

Hey guys! I'm gonna try to blog about my trip so that I can write it and you can check it if ya want! Obviously, I've had this thing for a while and I'm a terrible blogger because my posts are months and years apart! Bad blogger!!

What to do, what to do

I understand that my head and heart DO NOT match. Like most people, I want the unattainable, the things I can't have, the unreachables. My head is in one corner, screaming at me about what a moron I am. It tells me not to pick up that phone, not dial those numbers, not to wait as the phone rings and definitely not to leave that message. My smart little brain rationalizes every action that is a mistake and tells me why it is a mistake. It replays all the things I have done wrong in that previous moment and lets me know that I should definitely not do that again. Unfortunately, my heart is a weak piece of shit. As my brain tells me not to pick up the phone, my heart tells me that picking up the phone won't hurt anything, dialing the numbers is actually a good idea, waiting for that phone to ring is a great idea and leaving that message us actually smart because it will remind him that I still care. For every action that my brain tells me is a mistake and why, my heart will debate with great fury and passion, telling me how wrong that silly brain is. After replaying each event and the mistakes made, my heart will turn it around and fantasize it to a completely different chain of events. Events that eventually lead to attaining the unattainable.