Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?

I am addicted to Dexter. If you've never watched the show, it's about a serial killer. Dexter Morgan works for the police department forensics department as a blood splatter expert. And he's also a serial killer. But Dexter doesn't just randomly kill people, he researches them and kills bad people. Specially people that haven't been caught or got off on a technicality.

It's a great show. I normally don't subscribe to the "all the good girls love the bad boys*" theory (hey, stop laughing. I can be a good girl. I mean, I'm definitely not a serial killer!) but for some reason I have a crush on Dexter. He fakes his way through a regular life, has a job, a girlfriend and some semi-friends. I've read the books the show is based on and they are good, but the plot lines have been changed to make it better for TV.

Anyway, I live a in a no-cable world, but even if I didn't, I wouldn't pay extra for Showtime. Especially now in the wonderful world of TV on DVD! Season 3 came out on DVD last Tuesday and I pretty much stayed up too late watching Dexter every night. The next season is starting soon, but it'll be month before it is released on DVD. It's very tempting to go online and watch them. But it's also probably a bad idea to watch one episode and have to wait a week to start the next one ... in contrast to my Dexter DVD marathons. On the other hand, I might actually go to bed before 2 a.m.


*On a side note, that quote makes me think of the song Bath Water by No Doubt. I like the song, it's very catchy and I like the melody. But if I sit and think about it, it makes me want to throw up. If you are curious, the lyrics are below:

You and your museum of lovers

The precious collection you've housed in your covers

My simpleness threatened by my own admission

And the bags are much too heavy

In my insecure condition

My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again

But I still love to wash in your old bathwater

Love to think that you couldn't love another

I can't help're my kind of man

Wanted and adored by attractive women

Bountiful selection at your discretion

I know I'm diving into my own destruction

So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?

I don't fit in so why do you want me?

And I know I can't tame you...but I just keep trying

'Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater

Love to think that you couldn't love another

I'm on your list with all your other women

But I still love to wash in your old bathwater

You make me feel like I couldn't love another

I can't help're my kind of man

Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?

So I pacify problems with kisses and cuddles

Diligently doubtful through all kinds of trouble

Then I find myself choking on all my contradictions

'Cause I still love to wash in your old bathwater

Love to think that you couldn't love another

Share a're my kind of man

I still love to wash in your old bathwater

Make me feel like I couldn't love another

I can't help're my kind of man

No I can't help myself

I can't help myself

I still love to wash in your old bathwater

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Talkie, Talkie

My mom and I went to watch the Texans play the Saints in an exhibition game. Thank goodness it was exhibition because the Texans defense looked like crap.

But anyway, two guys who looked to be about in their forties sat next to us. And I think during the whole game, they said maybe 10 words to each other. They didn't talk about the weather, their kids or even the game. They've done studies that show women talk three times more a day than men. These guys were doing their best to bring that number down even lower.

I talk a lot. A whole lot. But even if I didn't I can't imagine spending three hours with someone and not talking. It's not like talking would interfere with watching the game. TV timeouts are long. I kind of wonder if those guys rode to the stadium together and sat in silence the whole way to Reliant.

Those are the kinds of things I think about alte at night when I'm trying to sleep.

Friday, August 21, 2009


I have already mentally checked out for the weekend. Next week will be a little crazy around the office. So instead of pretending to work for another two hours, I thought I'd type up some thoughts for you all to read.

I've been in a little bit of a funk lately. I don't feel bad or anything, I'm just not motivated to do much. I really need to start making a to-do list. I have several things that need to be taken care of, at home and at work, and I have just been pushing them further and further back.

My schedule is about to get a little more hectic. It's finally time for football season. The first home pre-season Texans game is tomorrow and then in two weeks, it'll be time for some trips to College Station. Hopefully the Aggies will make it a little more fun this year. If not, I'll be in the parking lot drinking excessively with some of my favorite drunks.

I'm going to Nashville next month with some friends to visit and to see the Texans play the Titans. I've never been and I'm really looking forward to it.

Another set of friends and I are talking about going on a long weekend trip somewhere. Everyone is spread out across the states so we're trying to pick a destination. Their first choice was Nashville and they want to go the weekend following my Nashville trip. Oops! So now we're tossing around some other places.

I printed out some calendars earlier this week and wrote down all the football games and trips and whatnot I have coming up. I have a blackberry with a calendar on it but there were things saved on it, some on my work outlook calendar and others I just had scribbled on a post it note. (I freaking love Post Its by the way) I am a huge fan of computers and technology but sometimes I just need to see it all out in black and white. If I get industrious (unlikely) I might put them all in the blackberry calendar. Someone informed me I can sync my BB with a google calendar. That might be a better idea. But again, that involves me actually doing it instead of talking about it.

Hopefully by tomorrow I'll have something funny to share. I'm meeting a friend for drinks and dinner tonight so maybe that'll improve my mood!

Monday, August 17, 2009


I have always wanted to be one of those people that can lay down and fall asleep in less than five minutes. Night after night I lie awake trying to shut off my mind. My brain is almost as talkative as I am in when I'm surrounded by friends.

People who have never suffered from insomnia always have cures, none of which actually work on insomnia. Warm milk, a dark room, a cool room, only using the bedroom for sleep. They all sound like great ideas to people who occasionally have a little trouble trying to sleep. So, they think those are actual cures for insomnia. Those are the people I kind of want to punch in the face, especially after a night where I slept less than 4 hours (and that was with the aid of an over-the-counter sleep aid). Most people really don't understand that you can be exhausted, physically and mentally, and still be unable to fall asleep.

William Shakespeare suffered from insomnia. He apparently used the time more wisely than I do. I toss and turn and try to force sleep. He wrote plays and sonnets and left behind a legacy of greatness. I'll probably leave behind a legacy of laziness and clutter and dolphin laughs.

Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers. Several of his most famous characters were insomniacs. I guess he could relate. One of my favorite quotes on insomnia is from Henry IV:

O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?
William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I

Tonight I might use the extra hours of awake-ness to spruce up this blog.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

It's a good thing I live alone

I am in the worst mood, and I have no idea why. I was tired all day but I'm not sure that's why my mood is so bad. I think if someone asked me what was wrong, I'd snap. So I think I'll go read Gone With The Wind (which I'm never going to finish apparently; I'm only 500 pages in) and call it a night. I will update you all on the good times I had in Atlanta tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

No ma'am!

It's the first full day of ATL vacation and we're being lazy. It's awesome. Later Jami and I are going to get out and see a movie and hit up Orange Julius. YAY! I know you are all as excited as I am.

We played Wii last night and it turns out, that I'm naturally a pretty good Wii bowler. But I am not good at Wii tennis, baseball, or Mario Kart. I think I can improve my Mario kart tonight. Maybe I need alcohol to drive a cartoon kart. There is a bucket of margaritas in the freezer with my name on it (well, and Jami's name).

The trip here was pretty uneventful. I woke up at 3:20 yesterday because I couldn't sleep. I swung by Shipley and picked up some kolaches for the Georgians. Apparently Georgia hasn't discovered the yumminess of kolaches yet. I was at the airport bright and early by 5:30 for my 7 a.m. flight. Security didn't even notice the pursefull of kolaches. Every time I got something out of it though, my nose filled with the smell of cheese and sausage. drool.

The people watching at the airport is always awesome but the best thing yesterday was a lady on my flight. She had on her "I-am-going-to-Atlanta" pants.

I couldn't take a pic at IAH because it was so quiet at our gate and the Blackberry doesn't have an option to turn the sound off on the camera. (I'm guessing stalkers don't use blackberry camera phones.) Luckily she was right there when I walked off the plane. I give you Atlanta Pants:

The red squares are your standard Coca-Cola logos and the white squares have the vintage saying "it's the real thing" on them. I am guessing she bought them at the World of Coca-Cola on a previous trip (or she's really odd and lives in Atlanta and wasn't being a tourist). I'll be on the lookout tomorrow for any of those pants' cousins.

Today's highlight will be the Orange Julius I'll be drinking later.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Oh, these are the essentials?

I leave for Atlanta in the morning and I'm feeling pretty anxious. Did I pack everything? Do I know where I'm going? Where I'm parking?

I haven't traveled much in my life. I've been on an airplane nine times. I could count because it wasn't very many! For my very first flight, I did a one-way to Phoenix and came back to Houston via the Car Ride From Hell. It wasn't anyone's fault, but I traveled back with my sister, her husband and their two kids. The youngest one (now middle), was about six months old. Every time it was my turn to sleep, she would cry and scream. I don't blame her, I wanted to do the same! Add in the dog and the cat, and it was a VERY long trip back home.

Of all those trips, I only flew alone that first one. That was pre-911 so not only were the security and everything different, but someone dropped me off and picked me up. So, this is my first real adult airport trip. I booked my own ticket, am driving to the airport and parking in the city economy lot and I'll be all alone.

This is one of those times where I feel like I'm a kid wearing an adult suit. I'm 30 years old and kind of freaked out about doing all of this alone. Is 6 a.m. too early to drink in the airport bar? Is the airport bar even open at 6 a.m.? Probably not -- stupid Texas liquor laws. I don't think they can serve until 8.

I've got my bag all packed. I've got a list of things to do in the morning taped to the back of the front door (am I the only one that does that?). I put a pair of underwear in my purse in case my luggage doesn't make it.

I'm about to go to bed at 10 o'clock for the first time in forever. The alarm should be going off .. shit, I didn't set the alarm. What else am I forgetting?

I leave you with one of my favorite clips from Brian Regan (This is the first time I've added a video so you'll have to click the link and watch it until I figure out how to embed them.)

I'll be coming to you live from Atlanta tomorrow. And I didn't proofread this so hopefully it makes sense and I didn't use the wrong homophone anywhere.