On one side, she’s my sister’s best friend. A rebellious gal in her early 20’s who is finding her way at Southwest Texas. I mean, Texas State (the school has a new PR firm). She’s my other little sister in case the first one doesn’t work out. Just kidding Em. She speeds up the tempo of life filling bland moments with sarcastic comments and times you’ll never forget. Just from being close to her life is better and your step is lighter. She’s a delight and a true gem.

There’s a bad side – a storm of emotion that comes to the surface when her heart is broken or she’s stressed at finals. Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde during a peak performance. However, the dark and vengeful side is nothing like her – even while she’s sitting in the dark. Negative thoughts of such treachery would never cross her mind.
Her mother would kill her.

The other Katrina is much more feisty. Upon first learning she was approaching the Gulf, a sense of giddiness spread through my office. We questioned if we would be released from work….if or when she came our way. She changed directions and headed inland. My guess is she was afraid of the cowboys. However, she flexed her muscles at the good ol’ boys hitting the oil industry. We will all feel the effects of their loss.

An open letter

Dear Katrina,

You swirled onto land looking for blood, death, and destruction. You left no path for escape jamming 1-10 and other escape routes. What made you so angry? Mother Nature teamed with you? The anger and spite. Of what? I don’t know. You smacked towns in the face flattening structures and erasing cities. Is this normal? Does not play well with others. Yeah, we got that.

Some were able to find refuge in towns near by , others were stuck on the interstate pulling over and simply slept in their cars. You ruined towns and shook them at their foundations. Then, you tapped New Orleans and albeit showed pity.

You manipulative bitch.

You were contemptuous with your gale force winds shaking the levees and shattering their strength. They broke like you knew they would. And now, the city is underwater.

Rescuers are passing bodies to save the living.

Today, while waiting in line for my Fourbucks, I felt guilty while talking to a mother and her 8 year old daughter. Guilty only because while they were fleeing for their life, I was picking out shoes. Shoes! What the? Seems rather trivial now doesn’t it? She saw their house floating down the street on the news. At least she thinks it was their house. The child clutched her teddy bear while her mother and I discussed the neighbors that concerned her. Were they still..? We both hoped they are okay.

The disaster you left will take years to clean up. There is loss of human life, possessions, and memories. Even now, my anger turns to tears. But I can’t help to state again

Katrina. You BITCH!

I woke up with two feet the size of a palm in my face. For once it wasn’t from a drunken night, but it had been a wild night. The previous night we were jitterbug drunk on high fructose juice, home made pizza, and chocolate chip mint ice cream.

After a long week at work, I had relaxed my dress for a Friday and dialed my sister in law in hopes I could borrow my nieces for the night. After promising I wouldn’t sell them or make them become vegetarians, plans were made for a sleepover.

The clock began to tick at a slower pace as people phased in and out of the office. I answered calls and returned emails until, I had enough. Grabbing my bag I hit the light switch, and told the boss to have a good weekend for proper measure. On the drive, I gathered the bare essentials. Snacks (the ones loaded with ingredients to make your skin glow in the dark), puzzles, and coloring books.

I picked them up shortly after 4:00 p.m. and made the “long” drive back. We stopped to paint pottery, went to the grocery store, and hit up Blockbuster. We then settled down for an evening of dancing with the music up a smidge to loud, snacking, and a movie extravaganza. Our bellies were full as we whimpered huddled together in my over sized chair and shared a box of tissues. I had forgot how sad My Girl is.

Saturday morning they bounded out of bed insisting upon swimming. I was out numbered. Splashing around and jumping off the sides we moved from pool to pool performing cannon ball dives. I played with them like I was the one who was 5.

“Aunt Jess, catch me.”

I tried to catch M. while pulling S. around the pool pretending to be a motor boat. I caught her and quickly catapulted her to the other side of the pool. M. bobbed to the surface spitting out water while swimming to S. and I.

“Aunt Jess, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Forever and ever?”
“And ever. And ever.”

I sat on hold listening to radio music while the receptionist tended to other callers. Dave Matthews “American Baby” came to an end as the next song qued up.
“ I’m not a perfect person
There’s many things I wish I didn’t do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you “The Reason” by Hoobastank

For the moment, I forgot where I was. I felt heavier and nailed down to what, I didn’t know. Maybe my medulla oblongata was refusing to take the crap I sent up my cerebrum. That had to be it. No, no, no. The reconstruction started long ago and this had been over for quite some time. Why then was I allowing a song I have listened to numerous times to bother me so? My knees began to shake as I fought the urge to hang up the phone
.
“I’m sorry who are you waiting for?”
“Dr. XXXXX”
“She’s seeing patients can I take a message”

Hastily I left a message and tried pulling myself together.
‘Okay, okay enough already’, said a little voice inside my head. How did you get here? How did you get to feeling as though you want to crawl under your desk by hearing a song? A SONG? I got here by making the best out of a former relationship and a series of choices.

I forced myself to snap out of the hypnotic glaze and focus on the starched corporate environment. I had to get out of my office if even for a moment. Grabbing a pen and paper I sauntered down the corridor into the Ring Leaders office. I muttered something about copying the design from his white board.

“You okay? Your face is all red.”
“I’m sick” I did have a sinus infection so it wasn’t a total lie.
“Your eyes are all red. Is anything bothering you?” His way of ensuring he had a healthy employee on his hands. Sell Sell Sell
“No. Nothing is bothering me”

I thought about that no. It sounded like the “no” of a kid playing touch football who just had the three biggest kids in school tag her by knocking her down and sitting on her. They asked me if I was hurt. I said no. I was lying. “Let me rephrase that. It’s personal; I’ll keep it at that.” He didn’t need to know and did not care to.

I retold Kristina the story of hearing a song at the office and feeling like I had been bound, gagged, and shackled to a distant memory. I’ve loved, lost, and dismissed men. I’ve poured my heart and soul into romance and flings never wanting to let go, not then anyway. Human touch and connection seems so simple. I told her of the amazing men I have dated and the one’s I never gave a chance to because I was in a bad place or it was not convenient for me. I can rationalize almost anything. K’s on vacation and looking out at the ocean as she dreamily responds,

“When it’s true love, nothing will get in the way. When you know, it won’t matter where you are. It will be worth fighting for.”

Sometimes you don’t know. The circumstances surrounding can be complicated leaving both parties in a state of turmoil. The intensity of highs, lows, and empty promises whispered over a bottle of wine. Plans change with moods like a hyper color shirt. We’re a nation of need, want, and immediate satisfaction. We stand in front of the microwave wanting it all now and speeding things along. We lack patience to understand the meaning of a promise and certainty of a handshake. The nuclear family is no longer the norm but one of divorce and prenups. Society has disillusioned the 20 and 30 somethings that happily ever after is peaches and roses. I wonder if it was easier for other generations? Even though, we try our best and exhaust the relationship trying to force love’s rebirth. A promise was lost or perhaps never should have been spoken.

In this day and age when styles change at the flick of a button. Gay is the new straight and straight is the new gay. Wait - that fad is over the scruffy man is coming back in style (thank-goodness). We evolve in our careers, goals, and future outlooks. Constant change. We long for the tandem growth, but let’s face it, it’s easier to dismiss someone than to love them.

I don’t know if this makes me happy or sad, having never worn others shoes. I do know that in the end you realize, if you have a quarter inch of something, if even for a brief moment, you have a better chance of holding on to something real that’s worth fighting for.

You don’t want to hear about the rocks my temples have turned into from a sinus infection. Or how I am stressed at work and have bit my tongue more than once today. So I have compiled a list of things that put me at ease when my face turns the color of my hair at this circus clown job.

Laughing so hard your face hurts.
A hot shower. The first sip of coffee.
Taking a drive on a shaded road.
Hearing your favorite song on the radio and singing in the car. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside on a Sunday morning. Knowing my nieces and nephews will envelope me with hugs the moment I walk in the door.

*Random emails from a good friend b/c we haven’t talked in TWO days.

Finally purchasing my tickets for The Texans.
The smell of fresh baked bread.
A bubble bath and a glass of wine.
Giggling with my nieces and nephews.
Talking to an old friend.
Talking to my siblings or sharing childhood memories.
Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
Laughing at yourself (I do this daily).
Midnight phone calls that last for hours, not the drunken kind. Running through sprinklers.
Sideways glances.
Corny jokes
Silly Pictures
Laughing at an inside joke.
LOVE & FRIENDSHIP
Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep (like this morning when I woke from a nightmare at 3:30am).
Making eye contact with a cute stranger, hubba hubba.
A good book
Having your friend pass you a warm chocolate chip cookie during the movie during Broken Flowers. Thanks Angelique.
Watching the sunrise then later savoring the sunset.
Knowing that somebody misses you and I cross their mind as much as they cross mine.
Feeling as though I am bigger than my size and yes, I can conquer all.

I’m taking stress down for the count.

Now back to your regularly scheduled program

Had I not been feeling the burn from a pinched nerve and the week not have gone quite as awry, I would have put on my best Matilda with two snaps up and a circle. However, a 4:30 email from Erin questioning my plans for the evening extracted such reply, “Nada – but I could sure use a margarita. Now.” And so the story begins.

In true 227 style, calls were made as the team of neighbors assembled. New TexMex restaurant next door is becoming quite handy. Two margaritas and several hours later my arm had been twisted turning happy hour into a night my liver would regret.

Note to self: Work on drunken filter or hail down wagon for a sobering ride.

Not because this is Texas, because it was the largest vehicle we could find. All piled in to a truck heading to the latest and greatest bar of choice. Upon arriving, I ran into a friend I would end up cursing, even now. Three shots of Patrone and I have branded him evil. Evil.

The usual bar antics of smiling and flirtatious sideways glances occur when I run into S.

“Come on I want you to meet some guys. The Killers are here.”

E. walks buy in a stream of blonde streaks as I grab her arm,
“Come with us.”

They are normal average looking guys of the not comfortable in their own skin famous. I stand to the side making new Greek friend as E. approaches the crowd. She steps right up interjecting at the appropriate moment.

“Hi, I’m Erin.”
The girl to the guitarists left turned to E. and with one swift movement of the tongue she laid down her protective law.
“Who the fkcu cares? He’s with me.”
E. turned on her heel leaving the negative behind. Minutes later I would find myself outside searching for E and suffering from foot in mouth disease.

BLAH
BLAH
BLAH

UGH! Can’t believe I said that. Humiliating

There are things I love about this city and things that are growing on me. But I will never get tired of the Mr. Rogers “won’t you be my neighbor” tone. This city is not one for attitude or bitchy remarks. Houstonians pour cherries on the negative and acknowledge the positive. It’s not sugar coating or painted on personalities, friendliness is the vibe and beat of the city. E. was being hospitable and not after your man. Take the ‘tude’ somewhere else savage rat.

Meow.

2 Do Before I Die

Originally uploaded by private idaho.

I’m okay with not being to terribly impressive, but when I received news of THIS I was pretty darn happy.

She’s been planting flowers and turning over rocks in hopes of finding me the last few weeks. Where have you been? Under a rock? What’s his name?

These are the questions I have been avoiding like a kid dodging a ball in gym class. Directly hurling words and waiting for their impact.

“You’re recoiling,” Erin said as we tasted wines on a Monday evening in Uptown Park. “It happens to me every few months.”
“Does the recoiling come with a blue print?”

Long days of temperatures rising as I allow my straps to fall exposing my bare shoulders. Tis enough to lead one of sound body and mind to wave a flag. Not to give up, ever. A holding pattern of sorts while I wait in the starting blocks for the gun to go off and start a new ….

Headed back to the drawing board to make plans and tear up my violated To Do lists. Too often we float and allow time to move us along the path. No goal or slot in life, only automatic. We squeeze things in and jam friends into time slots. Pulling out our day planners to schedule a time to “hang out”. Weeks, months, and occasional years pass by sometimes with out a call, text, or email. When tired and the day has beat us down we’ll reach for IGNORE then shove the phone back in the bag. Feelings may be hurt and emotions stifled. The caller is making an effort in hopes to say, “I’m okay. You Okay?” This was not the case last night.
“It’s a wine tasting, I think French. It it will be fun”
Hesitantly I agreed then quickly called to cancel. The third time I called she was tired of me until I said six words she was excited to hear.

“I just turned my car around”

My plans of hauling sassy ass to the gym were canceled. Was the best decision I had made all day.

We plotted, planned, and pulled out our calenders to nail down dates for future events. How did we get to be so busy? In that moment you you realize that’s not what it’s about. It’s planning a date with your friends and enjoying the experience with them. Arm in arm - and knowing I want them in my pictures for a long time.

Later that night I would whisper good night, through my ear piece, to Soleil as I pulled into my parking garage. She held true to our pact, even promised my mother last Christmas, she’ll always be there for me. Day or night.

Thanks for answering your phone late last night and talking me down.

NO. NO. NO. It was not supposed to happen like this. We practiced breaking up over and over but t’was all at my request. Not his. I want to stomp my foot and bang the ground. Throw a temper tantrum on the tile square standing in the middle of the kitchen. Right now. The band aide was laid over the wound week after week. He ripped it off stinging my core as the hair was pulled out from the root. It wasn’t supposed to end like this

(**Sting like a bee and am ready to fly like a bird. Done that. Must turn over new leaf.**)

She was telling me this after a long evening of wine and celebration of her 27th year.

“He tried to cheat but he couldn’t even follow through”

“Would you want to be with someone who can start things but can’t finish? Imagine what sex would be like ten years from now.”

She began to laugh as we moved from the kitchen to her living room. The party had ended hours before but much conversation to be had of love, like, and temporary satisfaction. Space fillers. Really. That’s all they’ve been. For that we must be grateful for feelings of depth and lack there of.

There’s things I know and things I will never understand. Try as I may, I continue to guess and grasp looking for the answers.
Do you ever really know? We got into this conversation Friday night in the middle of the most inappropriate place. Half naked gals were gallivanting around with men offering to buy drinks in hopes of not waking up alone.

“No, you don’t. Everything just seems right. I still want to jump his bones when I look at him. And his name’s not Andrew. “
“You think it’s more of a initial attraction and meeting of the minds? A feeling of settled? You seem ….so happy as are so many I know. You found love so young.”

Dreamily she replies, “Yeah” but we have our days I finish for her as she turns to look for him. With out a doubt, he hears it all standing at a safe protective distance to her right.

It’s a topic that comes to the surface like scum on a pond and grilled cheese sandwiches. When you’ve been cheated on because the timing wasn’t right for you or him all respect was lost. It’s then you realize the respect never was or what we deemed a “good thing” was thrown away in two seconds when his lips met hers. He wasn’t ready for Respect. Perhaps you weren’t either. It’s a matter of timing and a feeling of “settled” with yourself before you can be open to respecting yourself and another.

Picky some may say and question why she’s still single. It’s a mix of ingredients and licking the cake batter before the eggs are added.
Timing
Respect
Equality
Jaded or Dreamer? We wear them well and can’t deny the past makes our today. “I don’t want to be anyone other that I’m trying to be lately” We are the past with hopes for the future

I’ve lost my wallet, again. I looked in the usual places. I searched my car, under the couch, my freezer (found my car keys there once), my office desk, and under Jo’s bed. Nowhere. While I am busy canceling and reordering my life enjoy John’s guest entry.

***
It is 7:00 PM on a Thursday evening and I have yet to take a shower today. Some people can forgo a shower without attracting much attention, although I don’t encourage it as a regular practice. It was a conscious decision this morning, although not planned.

After wandering around in boxer shorts until 8:40 this morning, I had an “oh sh*t” moment. I realized I had a 9:00 AM meeting, and unlike other meetings for which I am regularly tardy, this one was important. This would not be a problem except for the fact I still had 20-minute commute, and as I mentioned earlier, I was in boxers. This is about the time when you start assessing the grooming routines that are important, and those that are optional.

I had decided brushing my teeth was indeed important, as was washing my face and running some water through my hair. One minute gone. I pulled clothes out of the closet, grabbed my shoes, and yes, got a pair of new boxers. Another minute passed. It had been three minutes since my epiphany, and I was now starting my car.

Out of control and bearing outbound down I-10, I thought I just might be able to make it on time. Traffic was light, although I usually take Memorial Drive into the office, so I was not sure what to expect. I could not believe it - I was making record time. This is about this time that I realized someone decided to pull a switcheroo on my exit ramp.
The exit was now in the far left lane instead of the far right lane were it was just a week before. I missed the exit, sealing my fate. I was going be late.

Ten minutes after 9:00, I finally got to the office, and found the meeting room. Nobody was there. Apparently I never received the update on my calendar. The meeting had been rescheduled.

It has been over ten hours since I started my day at a torrid pace. As I get set to leave the office for the evening, I plan on taking my time driving home. I have had enough of going nowhere fast

Writing has its own sense of rhythm like the sound of a trumpet or the clicking of a heel on a sidewalk. There are countless days when the essence of my thoughts float freely from mind to fingertips in fluid lucidity. And there are days such as today when my thoughts are tangled in my head like a knotted cob web. So,I emailed John, “I don’t want to do it today. Want to do it for me?”

His response, “All day team training (personality assessments) today. Turns out I’m complicated and schizophrenic. (always the joker that John) I can throw something together when I get out”

With listless patience
Sass