“There are places i'll remember…

All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends i still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life i've loved them all.” ~The Beatles, In My Life


My apologies for the delay between entries. The delay entailed a spontaneous invite and whirlwind tour of Houston via Rice University and Galveston. All of which were immensely *fucking* awesome. And my tour guide, well he was none other than Sir Lime.

“Galveston is like New Orleans- Light.” Truer words could not be spoken. As soon as you hit Broadway and the first few homes, you are engulfed in its charm. It’s old school without being haughty and small without feeling as if it is trying too hard to be quaint. The vibe is very soothing, yet fun. And maybe the hostess, Limey’s sister, had something to do with it. She was a most gracious hostess with a lust for life. Hanging out with Limey, his sister, and her boyfriend was comfortable and fun.

Houston is a great town. I’ve been there before, thrice, but never was hugely impressed. I know, it’s a little snobby to be a city elitist, but I never felt all that swept up with the city, only this time it was different… I realized that if I were to move to H-Town, I would most certainly thrive but I would miss Austin terribly, just as I miss my hometown, but the heels could be kicked up in H-Town. (Que Conti’s Houston comments…)

Limey took me to meet old friends, one old flame, their new abodes, old hangouts, and most importantly, he shared his love for Houston. Perhaps this nostalgia and connection was what was lacking. How can you NOT at least get a little excited about anything a person you care for is passionate about? You’d have to be channeling inhuman powers, my friend. Or at least, you would not be moved by much. And that’s a sad thought.

My sleepiness deterred intense reaction, but honestly, this little last-minute trip was amazing. Even the former Enron towers received my pity and admiration as we drove under them and I was regaled with tales of a former life.

I’m just going to say it: I am a sentimental sap but I find it hard to share my appreciation and love for the past with many people. It’s the way I was raised and perhaps it is the same with Limey. It honestly didn’t hit me until today that this is the first time since THE Ex that anyone has shared their past with me in such an honest and genuine way. It also occurred to me that I’ve been reticent to share my past with anyone because, quite frankly, I geek the fuck out about it and it has scared a few boys away. Sentimental sap, indeed.

Well, Limey is not scared. And this girl is game for sharing her geeky past because we should be liked for who we are, past included. But there is something that neither of us is willing to share, or at least since this weekend--each other.

I think what I mean to say is, “Oh Holy Crap! I’m officially un-unboyfriendable!”

“Who's tripping down the streets of the city...

Smilin' at everybody she sees;
Who's reachin' out to capture a moment?
Everyone knows it's Windy” ~The Association; Windy



All aboard the “Pineapple Express!”

Weathermen are citing this phenomenon of warm jet stream activity flowing out of Hawaii towards Washington State for the dynamic weather that is plaguing the southern US.

There is rain galore in Washington but windy-ass, f-ing winds here in Texas (whew, thank goodness for commas or that sentence could be vastly different.) And we’re talking winds that are going speeds faster than most of our grandparents drive. Well, those of us that aren’t related to a hotrod granny.

My mom has this theory that when it became windy, it excited the children. I used to think this was a bunch of crap because, “What me, hyper?!” Um yeah… I was always hyper- but according to mom,-even more so when the wind blew hard, fast, and steady as it is today. Mom says it might be the allergies that cause the unrest. Whatever it is, it’s spot-on.

I’m feeling antsy, indecisive, unfocused, and yet I want to relax. It’s so frustrating to be calm, yet feel rushed. It’s almost like having an impending deadline for school- and not having done the prerequisite research. God knows that is my very imp of the perverse and yet, we have full control over how stressed we get over said paper. Yet we push and push until it’s giving that familiar, looming doom. Much the same as how I’m feeling now.

So I’m a 7-year-old once more. Running about the playground, rubbing my nose, unable to sit still in my cubicle; sweeping my piece-y bangs over my brow repeatedly, rubbing my nose, rechecking my forums and blogs over… and over… and over. It’s like me, only times eleventy billion. And one.

This is the wind’s doing. I am convinced of it.

You know you’re over someone...

...when you have the following conversation with one of your friends:


“So, [Lime] and I will be joining you all on Sunday night. It sounds like fun.”

“Okay, now I must make sure I use the right name. Lime. Lime. Lime. Got it!”

“Oh, come on now! I’m not that bad! You don’t even KNOW the name of the other one.”

“Isn’t it [Spoonman]?”

“Dude! [Spoonman] was SO last Spring.”

"Stuck.. like a question unposed...

~ Wilco, She's a Jar.


You ever have one of those days...

When time is moving oh.so.slowly?

Where no matter how thourough you think you are combing through things, you seem to land on a tangle?

When you are incredibly productive, yet not moving ahead?

When you need a hug really, really badly. Not just a hug, a cathartic cuddle session. But you don't feel like infecting anyone else with your craptastic mood?

When you just wish you would have thrown the covers over your head and called in sick to the world?

Yeah. Me too. That's exactly what today has become.



"We could use
A hand full of wheel
And a day off..."

Someone's ears were ringing...

Bomb Pop emailed while I was writing the last post. He admitted he's been in a crazy crunch and we'll talk when he returns from out of town.

Funny. This boy seems to have the strangest timing like this.

Can you deny?...

There's nothing greater, nothing more than
the traveling hands of time? ~ Son Volt, Tear Stained Eye


Perhaps I spoke too soon. One has started to weed himself out whether or not it is on purpose- I don’t know.

Bomb Pop’s frosty goodness has started to melt into a sticky puddle. I’m not exactly sure it is intentional that he is incommunicado seeing as he has school-related functions to prepare for but even then, what does a quick email or phone call entail? The sticky puddle is annoyance, especially when you’ve been nothing but lenient. I don’t ask for much at this point, but communication is not a leash!

What’s funny is that he swooped in just after I met Limey and usurped him by being attentive and doting, yet mysterious. And hot. Now, the descent is just as surprising to me and the friends that thought for sure that he was somehow different and thus, the favorite.

Limey, however, is almost a Dreamcicle in comparison. He now calls just to chat and plans a little for our outings. He is also in school- amazing how he has the time for the little things! It has become important to him that I meet his friends. He always greets me with a smile and a kiss that is always returned. As we talk, we have more in common and more interests me about him.

I mean, there might be butterflies. Maybe. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Unfortunately, there is a little ice splinter in the mix. An ex… THE EX has resurfaced and started his oh-so-timely attempts to re-woo me. Me, the girl he dropped over 2 years ago. Me, the girl he wouldn’t listen to, like… well, EVER. It’s the same spiel about doing whatever it takes but it has been promised before without results. This time, someone else is not listening.

I find myself caring about hurting him but loving myself more. I, for one, certainly can’t deny that there is anything greater than time, especially when it comes to broken hearts.