wait for it....

Large picture blog post coming tomorrow. Try to hold back the excitement.

so much to do...

This week has sucked tremendously. To say the least. Going into it, I already knew that I was going to have to prioritize and haul ass in order to finish the last (and hardest) garment for my last class at school after redoing the whole pattern and having to make another sample. It's Maria's bachelorette party in Vegas this weekend and the last week of class is next week. Meaning I had only this week to sew. Hard to manage, but doable with my anal nature and shark-like inability to stop moving for even a second.

Last week, my dad went into the hospital several times complaining of stomach pains. After going back and forth, he was finally admitted Saturday morning. Upsetting, yes, but I thought everything would be fine once he started getting the antibiotic IV drip for the infection they said he had. I was in and out of the hospital all weekend, so I didn't get to work on my projects as planned. Then Monday everything went to shit. Daddy's intestines exploded, apparently, and he had to be rushed into surgery. Now let me help put you in my frame of mind as I get this tasty piece of news at 9AM at the start of an already stress-filled week:

imagine, if you will, a rabbit. This rabbit lives on, oh, let's say a balcony of a third floor apartment. The rabbit is relatively exposed to the elements but away from most predators being that he's so high up in the air. Now, if you know anything about rabbits, you will know that they are very high strung animals and the smallest things can upset them. So this rabbit is living his life, playing with his tube, eating, and crapping like usual. And then someone tells him that he has a total of 8 hours to design and execute an incredibly complicated coat before he takes off for a 3.5 day boozefest in Vegas during which he may or may not return impregnated, and his father has just had something burst in his body with unknown immediate and long-term effects, but he has to just sit tight and wait for more news while the hormones from his monthly menses course like freight trains throughout his veins. Oh, how that rabbit cried.

I have come to the terms with the fact that this jacket is not getting done. The hormones have subsided, and my dad looks a lot better than he did earlier in the week. So now I am left with the last thing: Vegas. I have created a list of things I need to get done before we leave tomorrow at 4:45PM.

-go to bank (pull out momma's spendin' cash)
-go to Hancock's Fabrics (for tulle)
-go to Target (larger memory card for camera and birthday card for Hector)
-do nails (gotta keep up appearances)
-laundry (this ones a question mark since it's not urgent)
-pack (bring bag for dirties, bathing suit/towel, phone charger, food, pills)
-pick up dad's mail
-go to Safeway (need vodka, jam, utensils, peanut butter)
-take out garbage (to prevent fruit flies)
-turn on Shelly (ever the responsible mother)

I have one hour to take care of the things that need to be done during business hours. I have max 4 hours to take care of the rest.



but at least I'm not that guy.

cuteness!

Courtesy of Laura, for some reason I find this adorable.


I'm feeling lazy right now so I won't write about the weekend. Rest assured, there was plenty of eating, drinking, and crawling around an old fort pretending to be attacked by the Japanese. I got to see Frances thrown into a pool, I got to sleep in, and I got to float in and out of a drunken haze for three whole days. Oh, and there was pulled pork. Best Labor Day weekend ever. Thank you to Berta and also to Brian's parents for hosting separate 2007 Labor Day BBQ extravaganzas, they were both very delightful and damaging to both my liver and intestines. I love it!

It's hard to be back at work, but luckily this next couple of weeks is sandwiched nicely between the Labor Day extended weekend and the Maria's bachelorette drink-till-we-can't-find-our-way-back-to-the-hotel-room party in Vegas. Can't wait!

beer bongs at the office and a song in my heart

I had planned on staying just for a little bit today at work, and commencing the drinking at or before the drive home. But when my boss called in to say we could leave at noon, all of a sudden all pretense of work stopped. I just watched the two guys I work with take a beer bong apiece at 11AM. I'll stick to my beer in a cup, thank you, like a CIVILIZED employee. The idea of wrapping my lips around a stale rubber tube that two guys I have reason to believe have oral herpes (at the very least) have just finished using does not fill me with happiness. But yeah...the idea in itself is pretty awesome and it's a moral principle I can really get behind.

I am leaving to begin my three and a half day weekend in 15 minutes. I have a two week old brownie and a slice of unrefrigerated (24 hours and counting) pizza to look forward to, and no, my weekend can't get any better from here. I hope everyone has fun celebrating Labor Day in all ways you see fit. See you Tuesday!

the lord works in mysterious ways

I just found ten dollars in my wallet that I didn't know I had. Jesus wants me to have Vietnamese food with Laura instead of going to the gym.

Me: But Jesus, I had planned on working out my killer calf muscles this afternoon!

Jesus: Bam! Here's a crisp ten dollar bill.Go stuff yourself with rice noodles.

Who am I to refuse the almighty?

I TOLD you, my baby beat me up

I have been saying for a while now that my jetsetting lifestyle was going to catch up to me and I was headed for a fiery crash into reality sooner or later. This weekend was my fiery crash. I think up till now I have been handling pretty well the schedule of work, school, and more work that keeps me going nonstop between the hours of 7AM and 11PM, but usually I at least have the weekends to relax and unwind a little. Add to that an apartment move and wedding planning assistance and apparently you throw me over the edge and into the sobbing mass of bruised flesh I have become.

I've been slowly moving my stuff out of my old place over the last week, and this weekend I had hired movers to take all my heavy furniture from Sunnyvale to San Jose. I didn't want any of my friends and family to have to move crap down one two two flights of stairs and up two flights of stairs, since they've all been through it before. So I figured $140 was a small price to pay for not breaking anyone's backs. Saturday morning I got up at 7:30 to get ready and go get Mark's truck to move the little stuff while the movers took the big stuff. I had Luis to help for that, but since it was only going to be little items, I had refused everyone else's offers of help to spare them. I rushed back home because I was late, only to find that the movers had not arrived by 9:05. No big deal, they were only five minutes late. By 9:15 I began to worry that the "Professional Moving Service" I had found at bargain rates on Craigslist might have been a poor choice. And not calling to confirm they were coming the day before might have been a second bad move. So I called the number on the ad and was greeted on the fifth ring by an incredibly homosexual-sounding male voice that might have just been roused from sleep, or interrupted during fellation. The guy could barely speak English and I couldn't really make him understand that I was calling because I wanted my furniture moved and no one had come to do it. He said he would call me back and hung up on me without getting my number. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him, but instead, Luis called him back and was able to communicate what had happened and what was going to happen. Turns out the man I had spoken to the week before took my number down wrong and was unable to reach me when he called to confirm, therefore he just sent no one. They offered to reschedule for the next weekend, and said they would call me back to see if it was at all possible to do the move later that Saturday. I don't handle setbacks well and was in the midst of a full on tantrum when Luis said we should just move the stuff ourselves since we had a truck. I did not want to do this, but there wasn't much else we could do unless I just moved everything back a week. I called Laura and she brought over another truck and we began lifting and moving like our lives depended on it.

Hours and hours and numerous scrapes and bruises later, we had taken the last load of furniture over to the new place. From this experience I have learned many things: ALWAYS call to confirm when you are scheduling movers. Three people does not constitute a moving team. Bungee drawers on your dressers. Don't trust someone with a TV on his back to lower it carefully into your waiting arms. Sofa beds are very heavy. If you tell your friends who have been kind enough to help you move your worldly possessions up and down several flights of stairs that you accidentally left the elevator key in your car when you exchanged vehicles to move, don't let them in on the fact that your key was in your purse the whole time when you find it after the very last item is carried up to the third floor. They get mad.

Now all I have left are some small things at home which I have been moving stealthily in the night. I still have a ton of shit to unpack, but after barely being able to lift my arms to hang up the 6 garbage bags full of clothes I brought up yesterday, I think I deserve a break. My legs look like someone took a tiny baseball bat to them and took out years of aggression in the form of repeated assaults, and my arms are covered with lumps and angry purple bruises. Laura and Luis suffered the same injuries, and I feel horrible that I subjected them to that. But I am extremely grateful because I could never have done it on my own, and I have promised to repay both of them with dinners and homemade desserts. And hopefully, I won't have to do this all over again in a couple months. But if I do, you can bet your ass that this time I will just be renting a Uhaul and going down to the Home Depot with a case of beer and a fistful of twenties.

there are two kinds of girls in this world...

...those who do THIS to their phones:




and those who don't.

I could tell you immediately everything about this girl, and the guy lucky enough to date her. Thank you, Swarovski, for finally making a clear determinator to split the gender.