I have the hardest time deciding when there are so many choices.  Poor me.  I am supposed to tell Ben’s mom which one I want:

I’m leaning towards one of the Texas ones because I want to display where I’m from on a huge pendant in the middle of my chest, but I like the setting of some of the others better.School’s out for Thanksgiving, but I still have my finals to work out.  We bought all of the food we need for Thursday and I can’t wait to cook it up.  It’s raining outside and I am not about to sit in front of this computer for 8 hours, so I think I’ll clean the apartment now.  =/

When it’s been a long time since I’ve written, I feel like my next post needs to be monumental.  Unfortunately, this one won’t be.  My last post suddenly turned up blank, which is disheartening.  Next week is Thanksgiving break and then I have two more weeks of the Fall semester.  I registered my classes for next semester and managed to get everything that I wanted, which is rare.  I didn’t get the exact schedule I wanted, but at least I got the classes.  I’m taking Calligraphy as my Drawing II class so if anyone plans to get married, I’ll be your official calligrapher.  I think we may even design a wedding invitation as an assignment.  Calligraphy reminds me of playing with my mom’s amazing calligraphy set when I was a kid.  I probably owe any artistic inclinations I have to her.

Ben and I are making our first official Thanksgiving dinner….if we can find a Turkey small enough for the two of us.  Trader Joe’s has huge turkey’s, but one of my instructor’s (Evelyn, love her.)  suggested Stop N Shop, a place I’d always assumed was a convenience store but it’s really a gocery store.  We’re having a pie war.  I want pumpkin, he wants pecan.  I may also make my gram’s stuffing and pretend it’s his mom’s recipe….ok not really….I’ll make two damn batches.  I wonder how long it takes for a new family to start to develop their own traditions and recipes.  A million years down the road, I’d like to include a dish from every aspect of our heritage (and something Norwegian).  By the way, Mom and Ben, I’m not cooking a chicken or hen on Thanksgiving.  I don’t care if we have leftovers for months or if the turkey doesn’t fit in the stove.

I’m growing tired now.  I’m coming home for Christmas and can’t wait to see everyone.  It’s fffffreezing here.  I know we’ve felt the 30’s in Houston, but that usually only happens at night when we’re inside our toasty houses (except for this past insane new year’s when we all went to….the…ice house, and then ended up with a mound of frozen people at our house), well it’s 30 outside at noon with the sun shining its heart out, and then 20 at night.  It hurts my face, but it’s not unbearable.  It’s refreshing at this point.  I’ll report back later in the season.

This week, starting yesterday, will prove to be a test of our Adulthood, or lack of. I’m rebelling against turning into grumbling bill opening fuddy-duddies, and aiming for tennis shoe donning youngsters in need of haircuts. I slipped up yesterday though. Here’s the short story.

Sometime last week, before the sun had made it up and coffee had clicked on Ben’s brain, he comes up the stairs whimpering and repeating, “I”m in trouble, I did something bad.” My own brain couldn’t begin to comprehend what he could’ve gotten himself into in the 15 minutes he’d been awake. Had he broken my favorite coffee mug? Stepped on Cooper and then scolded her? Started a war? Worse. He agreed that we would join our neighbors for cocktails on Sunday evening. Not just any neighbors, ours are zombies. One day they say hello and seem to like us, the next meander around us avoiding all eye contact without even a mutter to acknowledge our presence. We’ve never been able to figure any of them out. And the one that roped Ben into this didn’t even have a real name as far as we knew. He was always something that started with an A, but we couldn’t remember. Armando, Antonio, Arturo? Any neighbor we had seen on the street was of an older sort. No youngsters here. Sunday rolls around and 5 p.m. creeps closer. I go through the motions of getting a headache, grumbling, asking if we really have to go, and finally conceding. I put on my black skinny jeans and a silk shirt that I’d worn once in the two years of owning it and would never allow my peers to see. But I’m stuck when I try to figure out how fancy this shindig is going to be. I had to re-grill Ben on exactly the exchange that went on between him and Aguilar and the word that keeps pinging around in my head is “cocktail.” Wait a second Ben…I look down at his sneakers and then up at his polo shirt. He can’t remember if Antoine said “Cocktal party” or “Come have some cocktails.” Shit shit shit. The adult in me is redressing him and ranting about how we have to look out for these key words because cocktail party means little black dresses and slacks and heels and shit shit shit. The kid in me is thinking we should crash this party in our inappropriate attire and say “What?” The kid in Ben is now saying, “Oh fuck this we’re not going.” I’m still breathing funny, but he agrees to put on his Kenneth Cole fancy shoes with his jeans and polo and this seems acceptable.

The Come Have Some Cocktails Party is two houses down and I pray that it’s been cancelled as we knock on the door, but the door is answered by Carol, the wife of Alejandro and we click on the charm that sometimes fails us. Their house is charming and sort of dingy which puts me at ease…these adults aren’t perfect! I bubble about the massive harp in the entry and ask if she plays. She says she “practices” and I can see the fear in her eye that I might ask her to give it a go for me, but hell no, I’m not asking shit. God forbid the tables are turned and someone asks me to photograph the party! What goes around comes around, like clockwork in my world.

Moving along, there’s only one other person there so far and he’s wearing shorts with flip flops. There’s also a much welcomed conversation piece named Homer who suddenly charges through the living room and jumps on me. Homer is a dog. It’s not so bad…the chit chatting is easy and unforced. I lunge for the wine and Ben for the beer and we’re off on our adventure. Remarkably young couples start arriving and it’s a big introduction fest. Some of the couples know each other, one girl is absolutely precious and pregnant, another couple is from Australia and Ben and I seem to click well with them. Eventually, about six couples showed up. The only odd thing is that they’re all homeowners and we rent. We hear someone call out “Angelos” and to our amazement the host responds to this name. Score! Carol has cooked some things for us to munch on and has some nice tables set up outside on the neat overgrown deck. After the introductions it’s all a piece of cake. Everyone was rather interesting to talk to and there’s never a lul in conversation…people talk to us, we talk to them. I think of myself as obviously shy and nervous, but when it counts, I come through. I initiated topics and conversations with ease, and may have even been eager to talk. Holy moly!

I think there may have even been a point to the get-together last night, but we never got around to it. There was so much chatting and laughing that I think no one wanted to interrupt it to bring up the Heights Historical Society tours (that was in fact the point).

In short, we met and liked our neighbors and I should let the kid in me win more often.

This was all just a warm up for the big deal on Thursday. Ben and I will be attending an event at the World Affairs Council of Houston titled The Cloudy Future of Pakistan. Oh my god.

Happy birthday Mom!!!!  You’re still 42 in my head!!!
Tonight we were supposed to have chilli and milk at my house, but I think we’re all too beat to have a good time.  I say we buy discount pumpkins and carve them this weekend.  We can rent a movie and get stuffed with chilli…hopefully it gets a little colder out.  82 degrees on halloween is nuts, but so very common here.

So, discount pumpkin carving sound good Mom?

Two days ago on the way to work I was in my car wearing a slight pout and being a bit Eeyore about things.  I looked out at the dreary gray sky with a sigh and what did I see?  Another rainbow! One end of a rainbow.  A minute later I looked to my left and saw…another rainbow!  It turned out to be the other end of the first rainbow which had arched from one side of the city to the other.  I bounced in my car and looked around to see if anyone else saw and was having the same reaction, but all I saw were other dismal faces that had mimiced my own from a few minutes earlier.  I decided it was my own personal rainbow.  I also dreamt about rainbows last night.

I need to do a bunch of stuff for my school application, but everytime I start to do something, there’s a snag.  Today I’m trying to get my SAT scores sent to me, but the official website is horendous and doesn’t seem to cater to anyone who has already taken the damn things.  I’m not a highschool student who needs to take them!!!!!  I was going to call to find out how to get them, but I don’t have the money to pay for the copies (that’s sad) so it would be pointless for me to call to get them over the phone.  I also need to get slides made, but it’s recommended that they are all done in the same batch and I need to have some of my negatives scanned first, so can’t do that either.  I can’t even start to get the images that I do have scanned prepared yet because they have to be done in a specific way and I don’t know what that way is because I can’t find a freaking company to make the freaking slides.  I wish I was in highschool still.

I’ve been talking to my brother Kris through email quite often lately and I knew at some point he was going to mention the phone.  My enemy, the phone.  I’m so afraid that I’m going to be discovered as a fraud as soon as someone talks to me in person.  I clam up, I’m shy, ridiculous crap comes out of my mouth, I forget simple words, I forget what I’m trying to say half way through it, and I end up sounding like I need to go back to highschool.  That’s how I think I sound anyway.  So I’ve been scared every time the phone rings, but I think Kris is just as nervous to talk to me.  This weekend a number I didn’t recognize called me twice and I ignored it both times because I thought it was him.  As soon as I decided it was him, I freaked out and forgot how to behave like a human.  Immediately following the pressing of the ignore button I felt so guilty.  I put myself on a guilt trip all weekend and even asked Midge for advice today.  Then I looked up the area code and saw that it was Nevada, and most likely Kelly.  I’m so relieved that I didn’t ignore his calls, but that doesn’t change the fact that I would have ignored him had it been him!  But now I feel bad that I ignored Kelly all weekend.  I hate phones!!!!

Yesterday I went to see Elizabeth with my mom and Ben.  The movie was really good, but I was just happy to be doing something with my mom.  It was Ben’s idea to invite her to see it since she has a million books on Elizabeth.  We also ate at Hardrock Cafe…I never thought I’d eat there again since it seems like such a tourist spot, but hell, it was fun!

We’ve been out of coffee for the last couple of days and I’ve purposely not reminded Ben that we need to buy some because we get to go to Starbucks instead. It’s a new season and that means new seasonal lattes!!! I’ll have my Pumpkin Spice lattes until about late November and then I will switch to Gingerbread lattes. Luckily, I only make it to Starbucks about once a month, if that. I can’t stop gaining weight and I hate it. I’m eating right and I’ve pretty much quit drinking beer (my love), but I just keep getting squishier. As soon as I eat all the groceries we just bought, I’m doing the Master Cleanse. I feel all-around gross and want to get all this junk out of my body. I quit some meds recently and I want to start fresh.

Last night Ben and I made Risotto for the first time, while listening to the new Radiohead album “In Rainbows” that came out yesterday. Something dreamy about the night made me aware that we were making memories. In 10 years we’ll reminisce about the first house we lived in together when we were young and hip and our future was unclear as ever, and we liked it that way. In Rainbows was released for download by Radiohead yesterday for fans to “name their price.” I love the idea! The first week of December the deluxe box version will be available which includes a double vinyl disc, a book, eight bonus tracks and two CDs. Ben has hinted at least 5 that he needs this for Christmas. I’m writing this here so that I may remember it in a couple of months. Speaking of rainbows, I saw a huge one going over the freeway on my way home a couple of days ago. There just aren’t enough rainbows in the world. I am going to do some research and find out if there are places in the world that are prone to frequent rainbow attacks.

I want this necklace from Gasoline Glamour.

Since I rarely update, it makes doing so that much harder. I have a million things I’ve been meaning to say, I think. I hate to make promises but I will try to do this daily.

My boss is having his first child any day now. My co-worker asked him if he’d been talking to the baby through his wife’s belly and the look on his face sealed my dislike for this man. He snorted and looked at her like she was a silly little girl and scoffed a “No.” He never talks about the baby, or his wife for that matter. He reminds me of my old narcissistic sociopath boss, and some weird parts of Gus all put together. Maybe he just has Gus’s fake business laugh. Whatever it is, I don’t like him. I can’t wait to be out of here.

Several minutes after pumping out and applying some peach lotion to my hands, two co-workers piped up with complaints of a b.o. and urine smell. I just stared at them wide-eyed trying to decide if I should agree and accuse someone, or offer up my hands for confirmation. I just stared at them wide-eyed.

A few sundays ago Cher and Cliff and Gretchen came over to grill outside, not bbq, but grill. Dad taught me not to call all outside cooking BBQ, because it’s not, ya’ll. Cher is Ben’s sister, Cliff is the husband, Gretchen is the 1.5 year old. The boys grilled and fixed the lawn mower, and the girls played with flowers. I also saved a baby blue bird. Our activities must’ve made the 1940s proud. This stinkin’ blue bird was flopping around in the corner of the yard, making squawks, and trying it’s hardest to get back on the other side of the fence to the tree he came from. But it seems he was only in his first week of flight training and only had the Hop, Flap, Flap down so he got a whopping foot off the ground. I watched him for about 5 minutes before realizing that his skills were not going to improve enough to reach his goal, so I went to pick him up. I held him and fixed things by crying a little and then cried more when I noticed his parents yelling about the whole situation in the tree over there. I asked Ben if I was just supposed to put him on the other side of the fence so that we didn’t have to witness the feathered tragedy, but I risked it and placed him on the actual fence to let him decide his own fate. Phillip, that’s his name, found a branch that was bending low enough to touch the fence and used his hopping skills to get on it. Luckily, this branch belonged to his hometree! Little P has a bright future ahead.

I’d like to start including a picture with each post, so here’s bella drinking

I write partial novels in my head every day and I wish I took the time to get them here. A lot, and nothing, has been happening. I feel like life is standing still until I get that letter in the mail, hopefully stating that I’ve been given a spot at MassArt. I feel fraudulent even telling people about my plans, since nothing is set in stone and I could potentially blow the whole thing.

‘Nuff of that. I feel healthy. Healthy in ways that most people around me don’t even get. The clarity that comes along with it is refreshing and helps me remember that I’m a very happy person in general. Somehow, being happy makes me lose a bit of my tolerance for the sad. I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the amount of work it took to get here, and I just wish other people would do the damn work. Make the effort and stop doing things that are clearly making it harder and worse. I started to feel guilty for pulling back, but I’m still the same understanding Me and I’m probably still here to listen and offer some words. It’s the repetitive behavior that drives me away though.

Life seems perpetually transitional and I’m starting to think it’s not going to slow down. Hell, transition already!

I miss Adrian more than I ever have, but we’re closer than we’ve ever been. Once, I almost came to terms with us parting forever. It felt like death and I knew it wasn’t right. After having some sense knocked back into me, our lives came back together and mixed like there was never a moment skipped. We had to go do some growing up on our own and come back to share our stories and lessons. We are at a strikingly similar point in life, and luckily, we both love wherever the hell that is.

This is not at all where I planned to go with this. Sometime, I’ll write about us, but it’ll be a long book. I’m feeling floaty and sentimental now, which is a good time to put my head down on a pillow.