this is why i have sooner friends... or good bull hunting, indeed

an aggie made that. but a sooner brought it to my attention. because apparently, i've been slacking when it comes to surfing the aggie web.

but i found this lovely site, good bull hunting.

it sucks that we didn't get to beat up on those stupid bulls this past year. but i'm so glad to see so many other teams had the chance. yall did such fine jobs, boys. thanks.

ten. things that make me happy

my friend, tina, over at life is good tagged me in a post. i'm supposed to talk about five things that make me happy. the things that make her happy are here.

 

 

it's tuesday, though, with a new round of topics at lauren's blog--life, love, lauren--and tiffany at the austin family diary. and they want to know about ten things.

one. the phone call from one of my former managers, the woman who gave me my job application and my informal interview--you know the one, the preliminary three-second one they do when you turn in your application to determine whether they should bother calling you in for the formal one. the manager that i liked the best. but she got moved to the houston store, a promotion of sorts. only she's not very happy there. and so she called our store tonight because she was bored and missed us. and it was so good to hear her voice. so good that she sounded pleased to talk to lil ole me.

 

two. love stories. at the moment, i'm obsessed with the tale of kensi and deeks from ncis: los angeles. no, it's not epic. nothing grand. but this video? i've watched it a shit ton of times since i found it six days ago. i bought the full episode off itunes. i've watched it quite a bit, too. i eagerly await the arrival of the dvd's for the second and third seasons of this show. i'd spent the better part of the past week trying to figure out how i was gonna find the money to buy the third season when i remembered that i had a forty-three dollar store credit to best buy. so i got to get them both! YEE!

 

this is gonna be hard to believe,

but i'm not exactly following the kensi logic train.

apparently it doesn't make stops in my neighborhood.

 

you smell like sunshine!

and gun powder.

two of my favorite things.
--deeks

 

three. coca-cola.

 

four. when my characters finally play well with me. that scene i posted the other day? i've tweaked it a bit since then, added some more dialogue, and oh, it's getting good, folks. makes me excited to write when i see things so clearly. makes tolerating this stupid depression a bit better, too, knowing that good things will come of it.

one of the bartenders who'd helped me make it a little better said that what she liked about reese and isabel's conversations is that they were like little land mines. it doesn't sound like a compliment, but i think it is. i like thinking that these two sort of tip-toe around each other, that their words have so much power, even when they seem so ordinary.

 

five. kindness.

 

six. laughter. especially that of a toddler's delight. if i'm at work and my day hasn't been pleasant but there's a small kid in the store squealing with joy, that always makes my heart smile.

 

seven. sunset on a clear day, on a good country road. preferably one i can have to myself for a while.

 

eight. aggie football.

nine. huntsville, utah. in two weeks, i will exchange the chaos of a metropolis for the quiet of that glorious, lush valley, a much cooler climate and the pleasure of my favorite great uncle's company.

 

ten. sleep. beneath a good duvet. preferably between flannel sheets, but it's a little hot for that right now.



you get what you give

this moment here, this is probably the thirtieth attempt i've made in the past three days to write something. i'm not kidding. i've started and stopped and started and stopped... either because i didn't want to write it or because i didn't want anyone to read it.

i got caught up on the voice this morning. amber carrington sang a martina mcbride song, i'm gonna love you through it. josiah hawley sang about the man who can't be moved.

i've got thirty pounds on me that ought not be there. probably because i've had about thirty martinis in the past two months that i ought not to've had. and thirty loaves of pappadeaux's bread. and spent much too much of my time on the couch getting caught up on my shows.

i care that the weight's there, but not enough apparently to do anything about it. i care that i can't seem to care, but not enough apparently to do anything about that either.

it's not like me to be quite so apathetic.

my brother was over yesterday with his family. i always make a point if i leave before they do to round the room and hug everyone goodbye, especially his kids. when i left for work, my father sat with my brother and his wife, talking and watching television and my mother played with the babies (they're not babies anymore, but i can't seem to stop calling them that) in the pool. i came downstairs, put my shoes on and said goodbye as i closed the door behind me. i didn't look at any of them. went to work, where the only emotion i could seem to muster was annoyance--at the customer who called complaining her daughter (who's like one, i think) hadn't received her ten percent off one item birthday coupon so her mother could buy her a foam chair. i spent the better part of an hour resolving her issue. and at the customer who called at a quarter past six (after we'd closed), wanting to place an order for a thirty-dollar hamper for her daughter.

we're in the middle of closing duties, ma'am. may i take your name and number and have one of my associates call you tomorrow?

 

i'll be in dallas tomorrow.

that means no, of course. that means i get to stop what i'm doing and process an order for an item that we don't carry. i'm halfway through ordering the thing--

and you've got the discount for the registry completion, right?

 

oh! no, ma'am. i smile. let me put you on hold while i fix that.

 

no. no ma'am, i don't have your three dollar discount figured. let me put you on hold--again--while i kill this screen and start over.

 

and then i go to barnes and noble to purchase a tea refill and a multi-grain bagel with cream cheese. the barrista, who's looking at me with a great amount of disdain, asks if i want it toasted. yes, please, but not all the way, i say. and in my head i think because sometimes yall burn it. then she looks at her coworker and tells him, with much more visible disdain and mockery that it's to be lightly toasted.

 

the difference between her and me is that i rarely, if ever, show displeasure to a customer. i'll complain to a coworker till the cows come home about the demands of a guest, but my business is to sell and satisfy. and i will bend over backward to make sure that an issue, no matter how trivial it may be--like that ten percent off one item or that after-hours phone call--is properly addressed. i do my damnedest not to make my guest feel ridiculous.

 

the trouble is, i've a hard time tamping down that annoyance for very long. and when i've punched out and am looking forward to sitting in a cafe and reading for a bit while snacking on some (more) carbohydrates and drinking some (more) iced tea, i don't want to be treated poorly. not when i've been talked down to by customers for five hours.

 

i'm tired. i'm horribly depressed. and lonely. oh, my god, i'm lonely. the thing is, right this very second, i'm also very antisocial. i don't want to be around people. i don't want to talk to them anymore than i have to. i just want my bagel and my beverage and my book.

 

i don't want the people i have to encounter acting all superior, though.

 

you, ms. barrista, are no better than me, ms. sales associate.

 

so i look at her, and whatever kindness i may have felt, whatever civility i may have mustered is totally gone now.

 

what's your problem?

 

ms. barrista looks at me with still--amazingly so--greater disdain.

 

i don't have a problem.

 

uh, yes, you do.

 

there are two, and only two, comfortable reading chairs in the cafe. they are filthy, nasty, ugly, pea-green, suede-covered wingbacks. they are the only two comfortable chairs in the entire store. one is empty. i go over, ask the woman seated in the other if she minds that i sit there. no, she says. i reach for the magazines that are on my side of the table, inquire as to whether they are hers. she says no, but she stands and takes them from me to put them away. i feel bad for having made her get up. i try to take them back, to tell her that i was just gonna set them over there (there being the faux-marble-topped trash recepticle. but she won't give them up, says they go right here, points to the mag rack and admits that they were hers.

 

so now i feel bad for having distracted her from her reading. i apologize and move to another table. only this one's right in front of the judgy barrista, so i move again.

 

i eat my bagel. i drink some of my tea. i try to read. but i just want to cry. so eventually, i rise, put my book back, throw my trash away and walk to my car. but i'm so frustrated, so miserable that i just want to break shit. only i don't have anything to break.

 

just my tea. so i face the wall to my right, take a few steps back and hurl the plastic.

 

it doesn't help. it's wasted. like so much of my life.

 

i walk to my car. these are my options:

 

go home. hang out with my family.

see if a friend's available.

go to pappadeaux's and drink till i'm calmer.

 

i choose the second one. she's not.

 

so then i choose the third. and i picked the barstaff's brains, fished for compliments because at the moment, my psyche is trapped in a house of mirrors, and the list of virtues i keep looking at seems pretty pithy.

 

it's a lot longer now. and last night before i went to bed, as i sat here surfing through my pinterest boards to determine my ten favorites (because that was a post i'd thought briefly of doing), i reacquainted myself with this:

 

but that list, that quote, they only help for a little while.

i am no better than that barrista. my thoughts are just as ugly has her attitude.

i'm not broke... i'm just a broken-hearted girl. i move too easily when i should stand my ground. i can't make myself move when movement's needed.

and the only person who can really love me through this is me.