I would sleep in until about 10-ish. It is the best feeling to wake up next to someone warm and realize you don’t have to get up right away. You can just crawl right back into bed, throw the covers over your shoulders and squeeze yourself up against your bed partner. Then of course, whatever happens… happens. :)
After my lie in, I would get up, take a luxuriously long shower (my third favorite thing to do in the world) and wash my hair and let the warm air dry it rather than spend an hour straightening it. I’d put on my favorite pair of jeans, a t-shirt and head out to breakfast. Lately, my favorite breakfast places are Panera and Mimi’s. This day I’d go to Panera. Of course, to make this a perfect day, I need company. I think I’d have my mom join me for breakfast. We’d have soufflés while we chat about things, and make plans. I’d finish with an iced caramel coffee and she’d probably have a half shot caramel latte.
After breakfast, I’d head off to the downtown library on Park Ave. and since this day is perfect, all the parking would be free. I’d go to the library alone, because what is the point of having company when your at the library. First, I’d peruse the new books just behind the security guard’s desk. Then I’d go browse upstairs through the travel books then art books and finally science fiction before heading downstairs to read a couple copies of Rolling Stone. I’d go by the CD section and pick out a few before heading to the children’s section. I’d run my choices through the fun self-check out thing and be on my way.
My next stop would be the Zoo. Jason would meet me there and we’d get in free (Zoo pass holders as we are). First we’d marvel at the entrance and smile at all the excited children and clueless babies. The first stop would be the bird pond area near the front where we usually hang out on a bench and discuss nature and traveling. Then we’d go to the Great EscApe, my favorite and hang out with the gorillas for a while. I’d sit on the ledge right up against the several inches thick glass and have a silent conversation with a brooding silverback as he picked his toes. We’d make our way around the park and make a special stop at the Aquaticus, my second favorite place at the Zoo. Our conversation would turn to all the amazing alien like creatures that live in the sea and we’d dream of living near the ocean. As we leave, we’d visit the pachyderm house where I always get a sudden, overwhelming sense of my home country. It’d make me a little sad, and inspire me once again to save my money for a visit.
Since I like his company, I’d probably take him to lunch--BBQ, his favorite. We’d go to the place near the Bricktown movie theater so we could catch a movie after lunch. It’s fun to watch him guiltily order something evil, like hot links. He acts like a little kid, looking up slyly at me to see if I noticed the cholesterol content of his order. After lunch we’d stroll around the River Walk a bit as we discussed what movie we’d see. Finally we’d agree to a double feature, one of his, and one of mine. We’d get our favorite seats on the first row—the one with the hand railing we use as a footrest.
After both movies, we’d head over to my mom and dad’s and have a few friends join us by their pool. Someone will have brought their guitar and we’d swim and listen until everyone got tired. Finally, we’d go home and crawl back into bed with the realization, of course, that the next day could be spent doing whatever we wanted again.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
I also have...
Many moons ago, a friend posted an entry in her blog telling her readers about what she has. I really liked that post, since I usually enjoy hearing things about people I like. Since, I don’t have much else to say today, I’ll follow in her footsteps and try to create something similar.
I have long wavy blonde hair
First of all, let me explain that I do not know the difference between the spelling blond, and blonde. With that said, I’ll continue. I was born with wisps of wavy blonde hair. As I grew up it turned to spiral curls and finally back to wavy. Although, my blonde has gotten darker as I’ve gotten older, I am still a true blonde (with a bit of help from my good friend Brooke). My hair has always been one of the few things I enjoy about the way I look—I’ll easily spend unspeakable amounts of money getting it carefully cut or purchasing high-end conditioner. It is my biggest splurge and why shouldn’t it be. Soon, it’ll turn gray and the texture will change—why not enjoy it now?
I have hazel green eyes
Inherited from my mom and she, from her dad (my grandfather). Green eyes of every shade run in my family. In fact, no one has ever been born into my family with brown eyes… ever.
I have freckles
Thank you Grandma, with your red hair and freckly skin, for your contribution to my skin tone. Every descendant of my mom’s family is littered with little freckles. As a kid, I remember hating them—they were on my face, arms, and worst of all, my knees! When I was a cheerleader, I used to try and pull my skirt down whenever I sat, so the people next to me wouldn’t have too much opportunity to see the constellation Leo mapped out on my boney knees. Now, I let them fade by faithfully wearing sun block and blending them in with makeup. I don’t hate them the way I used to, but I don’t think I’ll ever learn to love them either. I remember reading on a stupid placard somewhere that “a face without freckles is like a night without stars.” I remember thinking, “good luck finding a guy who feels that way.” Eventually, I did. He is more freckled than I’ve ever been. Our poor children.
I also have boobs
My friend covered this subject, so since I have a pair, I will too. She was right when she said breasts are part blessing, part curse. They are a blessing because they are fun—why deny it. They make your clothes look better, and they have a way of attracting attention. They are a curse because after they reach a certain size, they can hurt your back and because they can attract unwanted attention. A woman’s journey with her boobs is mostly embarrassing and amusing.
I have two tattoos
I got the first when I was 17 (underage, I know). My sister lied about my age for me at a Ft. Lauderdale tattoo place. We have matching flower tattoos—hers on her back, mine on my right ankle. I got the second at the same time and place as the friend who inspired this post—Austin, Texas, around the end of May, 1997. It is a 3.5 inch Celtic cross on my left ankle based on a necklace I was wearing at the time. I love them both.
I have four visible scars
All of them had stitches at one point and two are related. The first is probably the most visible—it is on my face between my nose and upper lip. I was born with a lateral cleft lip and palette, so the scar actually extends from the base of my nose to the back of my throat. That was a lot of stitches. Yuck. The second is from a gall bladder surgery I didn’t really need, back when I was in college. The third is related to the first and is placed perfectly on the ridge of my left hip. It was created by a talented surgeon who made me both a bone marrow donor and recipient in the same surgery. The last, I received by kneeling down on a piece of broken glass while I was playing when I was about 5. It is on my right shin (tibial area).
That’s all.
I have long wavy blonde hair
First of all, let me explain that I do not know the difference between the spelling blond, and blonde. With that said, I’ll continue. I was born with wisps of wavy blonde hair. As I grew up it turned to spiral curls and finally back to wavy. Although, my blonde has gotten darker as I’ve gotten older, I am still a true blonde (with a bit of help from my good friend Brooke). My hair has always been one of the few things I enjoy about the way I look—I’ll easily spend unspeakable amounts of money getting it carefully cut or purchasing high-end conditioner. It is my biggest splurge and why shouldn’t it be. Soon, it’ll turn gray and the texture will change—why not enjoy it now?
I have hazel green eyes
Inherited from my mom and she, from her dad (my grandfather). Green eyes of every shade run in my family. In fact, no one has ever been born into my family with brown eyes… ever.
I have freckles
Thank you Grandma, with your red hair and freckly skin, for your contribution to my skin tone. Every descendant of my mom’s family is littered with little freckles. As a kid, I remember hating them—they were on my face, arms, and worst of all, my knees! When I was a cheerleader, I used to try and pull my skirt down whenever I sat, so the people next to me wouldn’t have too much opportunity to see the constellation Leo mapped out on my boney knees. Now, I let them fade by faithfully wearing sun block and blending them in with makeup. I don’t hate them the way I used to, but I don’t think I’ll ever learn to love them either. I remember reading on a stupid placard somewhere that “a face without freckles is like a night without stars.” I remember thinking, “good luck finding a guy who feels that way.” Eventually, I did. He is more freckled than I’ve ever been. Our poor children.
I also have boobs
My friend covered this subject, so since I have a pair, I will too. She was right when she said breasts are part blessing, part curse. They are a blessing because they are fun—why deny it. They make your clothes look better, and they have a way of attracting attention. They are a curse because after they reach a certain size, they can hurt your back and because they can attract unwanted attention. A woman’s journey with her boobs is mostly embarrassing and amusing.
I have two tattoos
I got the first when I was 17 (underage, I know). My sister lied about my age for me at a Ft. Lauderdale tattoo place. We have matching flower tattoos—hers on her back, mine on my right ankle. I got the second at the same time and place as the friend who inspired this post—Austin, Texas, around the end of May, 1997. It is a 3.5 inch Celtic cross on my left ankle based on a necklace I was wearing at the time. I love them both.
I have four visible scars
All of them had stitches at one point and two are related. The first is probably the most visible—it is on my face between my nose and upper lip. I was born with a lateral cleft lip and palette, so the scar actually extends from the base of my nose to the back of my throat. That was a lot of stitches. Yuck. The second is from a gall bladder surgery I didn’t really need, back when I was in college. The third is related to the first and is placed perfectly on the ridge of my left hip. It was created by a talented surgeon who made me both a bone marrow donor and recipient in the same surgery. The last, I received by kneeling down on a piece of broken glass while I was playing when I was about 5. It is on my right shin (tibial area).
That’s all.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Thoughts on Aloneness
Today I get off work early, at around 1:00. I usually do on Fridays. What’s funny is how Fridays often turn into the longest feeling day of the week. This particular Friday, however, I’m not especially looking forward to the weekend. Usually I’m aching to get out of here and go get a pedicure or eat lunch with my mom. Today, I want out of work, but I have no particular place to go and no one to do anything with—for the entire weekend. I’m one of those people who don’t have a lot of very close friends with whom I feel comfortable enough to just call up an and invite them to do something. It’s kind of silly really because if some random acquaintance of mine called me up today to go see a movie tonight, that random person would just have totally made my day. So why can’t I do that? Eh.
Normally, I do have company. I’m not a total loner or anything; I just tend to hang out with the same people most of the time. I’m very family oriented, so spending an entire Saturday with my mom sounds like a perfect way to spend a day. That being the case, my mom… and dad are out of town for another week. While I have a fun significant other, Jason, with whom one would assume I could spend all my empty time, he is and has been unavailable on the weekends because of a class. Then there is my best friend, who is always lots of fun no matter what the plans are, but she is most likely getting tired of me. :) She was kind enough to “baby-sit” me the other night, when my roomie/husband was out of town. So I’ve opted not to hit her up to entertain me this weekend. I have a few other close friends, but as the victims of Oklahoma’s mismanaged economy and poor job outlook they all moved away to seek out better fortunes for themselves and their families.
There have been several times in my life where I find myself, not friendless, but lonely. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how many times those periods of time were 99% self-inflicted. I’m contemplative by nature, so not having plans or anyone to answer to often generates a sense of freedom in me. In other words, this alone-ness isn’t totally without its perks, however self-indulgent they might seem.
So, here I am trying to prepare myself for a weekend of relative loneliness. I don’t mean that in a “poor me” sort of way, but in more of a “this is who I am, so this is how it is” sort of way. It’s just kind of an interesting study into what different people will live with based on their personalities. I have no problem hanging out by myself; it just gets old after a few weeks. :(
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