firsts: cowboy boots

Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a boot of wealth and taste...


Rocketbuster "Cool Arrows." Get it? Get it? Cool... Arrows... c'mon, you get it, right?

Did I mention that my job has many perks? I'm poor as hell, but now own boots that cost more than I've made all summer.

i said goddamn

Here I am thinking I know what's what on True Blood and then this guy walks in. I've been waiting for Alcide since I finished the book in which he first appeared and, dear Alan Ball, you didn't disappoint. I heard he was going to be in the upcoming episode (which aired last night), so I watched just long enough to get a glimpse of Alcide in all his flannel-wearing, southern-accent sporting glory.

Oh how I love the fact that my favorite show is based on a series of books written by a woman and that the show itself was created by/episodes are often written and directed by a gay man. YES! Finally a television show in which the eye candy is predominately male (the hot females always end up dying).

But back to Alcide... apparently tall, dark, and fucking hot handsome walks in and I forget about old Eric Northman. I sound like a sex-crazed fangirl. I AM a loser. That's okay, though. I'm allowed to be obsessed with one show in my lifetime.

orale

here's something i like about san antonio: i can wear earrings that border on ghetto and no one will judge me. that's right, i can look all latina and shit and blend right in with every other 20something (except those in stone oak, though if you're there late enough at night, we take over that side of town, too). that shit don't fly in austin.

here's something i don't like about san antonio: damn near everything else.

i live in austin; i'm better than you! or so everyone assumes. but remember, puto, i'm from san antonio. that's right, i'm not all that cool considering my big escape took me 90 miles away.

shit, in hindsight, 90 miles IS an escape. this city is a fucking black hole that sucks you in and makes you feel as though leaving is completely unnecessary and, hell, even impossible at times. but i still don't want to believe that austin is where i should be, even if i do (secretly) love it there.

seriously, though, i miss austin. i feel guilty for missing it since i know i should value the time i'm spending con mi familia, but this place feels so foreign lately.

mira, "this place." who the hell do i think i am?

one more!

"Talking like a jerk
Except you are an actual jerk
And living proof that sometimes friends are mean."

oh. i got my first speeding ticket today. i'm quite sure that john hughes is somehow behind this (and nearly every other bad thing in my life... can you see me shaking my fist at you, john? i won't give you the honor of having your own tag, john. stop trying.)

to be continued

things i will do this year:

• attend a symphony performance
• attend an opera performance (i was going to wait for madame butterfly, but since watching amadeus i've grown a bit anxious)
• exercise despite my crazy school/work schedule
• finish school books (this is probably the hardest task on this list)
• play by the rules (winkity wink wink)
  

more to come...

but wait, there's more

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): What have you lost in recent months, Libra?
This week begins a phase when you will have the potential to not exactly
recover it, but rather to re-create it on a higher level. Maybe a dream that
seemed to unravel was simply undergoing a reconfiguration, and now
you're primed to give it a new and better form of expression. Maybe a
relationship that went astray was merely dying so it could get
resurrected, with more honesty and flexibility this time around.

Oh, Rob... sometimes I feel as though you really know me.

So anyway, I had this crazy, somewhat depressing dream about Richard last night. Okay, I'm lying. It was incredibly depressing and I probably couldn't tell it out loud. Thank goodness for blogs, right?
So I'm skipping over insignificant details to get to the meat of the story. I'm sitting on the couch in my old house next to Richard. Richard is sitting next to one of my brothers and Anthony is sitting on the old recliner we used to have. We're watching television and someone on the tv says something about the secret of life... this person died and apparently part of the reward of dying was the fact that you learned the secret of life in the afterlife (now of course this secret was revealed in my dream, but I don't remember what it was). So I turned to Richard and whispered "Is that really it?" He looked at me and said "What do you mean?" So I asked again, "Is that really it? Is that really the secret of life?" Naturally I have a huge grin thinking I'm going to learn the secret of life. Then Richard turns to me and says "I don't know. I don't know because I'm stuck here with you. You won't let go so I have to stay here until you do." Then he went back to watching tv and I realized that I was the only person in the room who could actually see him. So obviously I felt pretty guilty knowing he was stuck there for me so I tried to convince myself that I was okay with him leaving. He looked at me as though he knew what I was thinking and gave me this look that said "It's not that easy. I'm still here." So every moment he remained was evidence that I wasn't over it and wasn't ready or willing to let him go. How fucked up is that? He wasn't mad at me, that was clear. He just kept on watching tv, laughing as though nothing were wrong.

What a shitty dream.

you won't understand this unless you know the super secret code

fuck you very much, john hughes.
oh, and RIP.

i'm in love with alan ball.

Exhibit A: Michael C. Hall and Peter Krause as David and Nathaniel Fisher

a word to the wise: don't begin your day by watching reruns of Six Feet Under. despite the fact that two of my favorite men are on this show (see exhibit A), it's still depressing as shit. so yeah, don't do it.
seriously, after finishing the series a couple of months ago, I can't watch a single episode without feeling overwhelmingly depressed. if you've never seen it, though, I urge you to watch it. Yes, urge. it's had such an impact on my life, no exaggeration. you see, i've always had this terrible relationship with death, that is, the death of others; I'm not particularly concerned about my own death. after this show, i felt compelled to establish some sort of new understanding with death. I suppose I'll elaborate on this one day. My point? Watch Six Feet Under. You won't regret it and your life will be incomplete if you choose not to watch.

I should add that I love this show so much that I've decided to name my son (should I have one) Nathaniel. I already love that cheeky bastard Nathaniel Hawthorne, but Mr. Nate Fisher made me love the name even more.

post scriptum

my sincerest apologies to mr. nicholas cage. he was also in peggy sue got married. two good movies.

it could be cool.

yeah, did you know that nic cage actually made a great movie once?