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Last night at Bible Study, Suz talked me into giving up sweets with her for Lent.  I tried to talk her out of it, stating that her bachelorette party at the ranch was coming up and Sash would for sure have an army’s supply of baked goods.  We talked for a while about something else she could give up.  Alcohol?  No way, Jose.  Coffee?  That’s no fun.  Basically, we couldn’t think of anything else, so dessert it was.  And since I wasn’t able to come up with anything, I had no choice but to be a team player and say no to sweets for the next 40 days.

However, we did make a couple of amendments.  Jello shots are allowed with the reasoning that Jello is not really a dessert because it’s given to sick people in the hospital.  And also gum is ok… because, well, the dentist recommends it.  It’s going to be a real struggle to avoid the baked goods in a couple of weekends, along with the cake toppings that will be used for cake decorating.  I’m just relieved that I’ll be able to drink.  I just hope drinking doesn’t lower my Lent willpower inhibitions.

This all reminds me of when Jamila went on the Daniel Fast and couldn’t eat anything but vegetables, fruits and whole grains for 40 days.  Was that a struggle.  Of course, she somehow validated that Fritos and tortilla chips were whole grains because they were made from corn.  Ok.  She also drank smoothies because they were all fruit, right?  At least she made it through the end of the fast unlike her friend, Emeka (whom I called Tribecca) who gave into his cravings in the drive-thru line at KFC on day 31. 

On a side note, the reason for the subject line is that I woke up this morning with Hall & Oats in my head. 

Yeah, I– I’ll do anything
that you want me to do, yeah
And I’ll do almost anything,
that you want me too, yeah,

But I can’t go for that, (No, no can do)


Mary and I exchange emails almost on a daily basis, and ever since she has moved into her new apartment, she’s been paranoid for some reason that she’s going to be murdered there.  It’s not that she lives in the ghetto, because her apartment complex is cute and charming, so I don’t really know why all of a sudden she’s become concerned about someone wanting to take her out.

When we lived together in 2622, she used to spy on the neighbors all the time.  In fact, many afternoons while I was slaving over my accounting books, she would take many breaks from building her “junk box” to peer out of her blinds and see what was going on in our “neighborhood”.  She kept tabs on the Mustang that would be parked outside our apartment for weeks at a time.  She kept tabs on when the girlfriend of a neighbor across the street would visit, who we referred to as “Nooner”, no explanation needed.  She kept tabs on Mr. Brewer, the Project Family and last, but not least, J9 and her daughter “Abbie”.  Which reminds me of the stray cat, Elvis, she would let in our apartment… “Is the kitty in there”?

My point in all of this, is that Mary is like a little spy.  A detective.  A Nancy Drew.  She sent me an email this morning detailing the events of last night, when she thought she was really going to be taken out, and the way she writes not only sounds like a detective (see words highlighted in bold), but also makes me laugh.  So I had to share…

So last night I woke up to the sound of a man’s voice saying “Is it upstairs or downstairs”? Um… do you know how much I thought I was about to get robbed/kidnapped/violated by people outside plotting at 2:30 a.m.????????? I hopped out of bed, put on my spectacles, and peered out the window all the while thinking how quickly I could get dressed (and what I should wear) and what kind of weapon I could quickly grab. Turns out, it was Medstar coming for the little old man below me! Stretcher and all. I heard them mentioning chest pains, so I don’t think it was anything too serious… they weren’t moving fast and he was completely coherent. I side-stepped my first murder attempt, it appears.

Two things… grams, if you are going to get murdered/raped, does it really matter what you are wearing?  Also, chest pains could be serious, I hope the little old man is okay.  Have you named him yet?

UPDATE: After I responded to Mary’s email telling her I found this situation entertaining, she wrote back…

Grams.  I was so serious last night.  I even thought so far as to: take cell phone (after calling 911)… then I debated about car keys because I would want to get away.  But then I thought it might be hard to do if they were blocking the doorway.  THEN I realized I could not leave Mazie behind!  Thank goodness this was not the situation; I would have needed to pack and do too many things in a critical time!

It just keeps gettin’ better!

One weekend highlight I forgot to mention, was the viewing of Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.  I think it’s safe to say this was my favorite movie as a child.  It’s too bad I am 27 and just now got the inside joke in this dialogue…

[after Pee Wee passes out at the rodeo]
Texan: What’s your name?
Pee-wee: I don’t remember.
Texan: Where are you from?
Pee-wee: I don’t remember.
Texan: Do you remember anything?
Pee-wee: I remember… the Alamo.
[Texans cheer]

Gotta love Texas and Pee Wee Herman.

There is a gentleman at Bally’s who has the most annoying treadmill routine.  He runs for about a minute, jumps off, towels his head, looks around, then jumps back on and keeps going.  I’ve witnessed his weird antics many times before, and he just pisses me off everytime. 

I’m on the treadmill, doing my thing, feeling a good momentum from my steady pace.  Then this clown gets on the treadmill next to me, which he always gets on the treadmill next to me, and starts ruining my flow.  Today, I decided to let the joke be on him and count the number of times he jumped off and then blog about how rididuclous he is.  In the last 15 minutes of my run, he stopped to towel off his head 11 times.  Either run hard for 10 minutes and call it a workout, or just walk and not run.  He braces himself on the treadmill while he is running so it’s not like he’s even getting that great of a workout.  I came really close to yelling at him this morning, but I decided to just look at him everytime he stopped running and give him a look.  Which, of course, didn’t seem to phase him.

This morning’s episode reminded me of the “Woo Woo” YouTube video we used to watch at Nortel.  I’ve posted it here for your enjoyment.  It’s only for decoration, man, it’s only for decoration (…yeah I got ’em on my car)…

They think it’s a fad and it’s going away.  It’s not a fad, it’s not going away.  And it is driving me nuts.  I run on the treadmill… I can’t concentrate.

Let me start off by saying that it’s Monday at 10:45am and I am at home, watching Chelsea Lately.  Still drinking my morning coffee.  Happy Birthday, George Washington.  This cup’s for you.

I had no idea a Valentine’s Day could be so entertaining.  Saturday morning, after the coffee-spilling debacle at the vet’s office, I went to LA Fitness for my personal training session.  FYI I am definitely under the 30 sessions left mark.  Phew.  I was running on the treadmill, doing my thing, when all of a sudden I hear a loud thug and out of the corner of the eye, see my next door neighbor, fall out of sight.  I quickly turned to see what happened to him and he was just rounding out his backwards summer sault off the back of the treadmill.  At first I was worried he might be seriously injured, given that he had landed on his neck, but within a couple of seconds he was moving around.  By this time, his girlfriend, who was on the treadmill to his right, had jumped off to come to the rescue.  Now, I know this probably hurt, a lot, which I know from first hand experience, but it took all I had not to be laughing.  I had to look straight ahead to mask the expression on my face so I wouldn’t get gang banged by the duo.  It also didn’t help that I was envisioning what Mary’s reaction would be when I told her. And just as I thought… the story made her day.

That night, we all went to a dinner in honor of Suz and Jay at the coolest house I’ve ever seen.  Ever.  We had drinks and Mexican food as we sat around and socialized.  There was lots of laughter, the unfortunate mentioning of the word v*ginal, which was totally inappropriate, and Erin got slapped over the back of the head with a bag of M&M’s.  What could be funnier?  Oh, how about the fact that the bedroom used to store coats was amazing, complete with a fire place and all, and when Robyn and I decided to take a picture of ourselves, setting my camera up on a timer, a lady comes walking out of the bathroom, only to see us posing and my camera blinking, blinking, blinking, flash!  Luckily, she didn’t notice the camera and said to us, “ohhhh, you guys look like you’re getting warm”!  We also decided to take a picture in the awesome bathroom that had the largest tub ever, which had it’s own TV.  Awesome.


I think I am going to send a thank you note to the owners and mention that if they ever need anything, or just want to hang, that I am available.

I’m not sure what I was thinking a couple weeks ago when I booked a vet appointment for Rocky at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.  I have my trainer at 11:30, so I suppose I was playing it safe and allowing extra time.  Good for me.

At 8:15 we rolled out of bed, got dressed (just me) and got in the car.  I figured a Starbucks coffee was in order.  When I got there, they told me my coffee was on the house because they were in the process of brewing a fresh pot.  Awesome.  I can wait 30 seconds to save two bucks.  Sure.  We then got to the vet and as I was waiting in the lobby for our room to be ready, Rocky tugged on the leash, which I was holding in the same hand as my coffee, and in slow motion…. there… went…. my…. fresh…. cup…. of…. free…. coffee…. everywhere.

The funny thing is that I debated the whole drive from Starbucks to City Vet on whether or not I should leave the coffee in the car in fear of spilling it in the vet’s office.  

Aside from that disappointment, I was informed that Rocky needs to lose weight.  2 whole pounds!!!  Poor guy, I guess he won’t be indulging on any Valentine’s Day treats today.  Big fat bummer!

However, the rough start to today was quickly redeemed with another cup of coffee and the package of fresh cookies and milk that were delivered right when I walked in the door!  Happy Valentine’s Day!

As most of you know, I’ve been toying a lot lately with the idea of jumping ship from Accounting.  I’ve been researching different ideas from teaching to physical therapy and I feel like my head is in a constant tailspin of information, deadlines and timelines. 

Luckily, I went to an info session on physical therapy this week and have safely crossed that idea off the list.  From the million science prerequisites I’d have to take, to the bandaging of wounds, to the 40 in 400 applications that get accepted to the program… I’ve decided it’s not worth the chance and it’s probably not for me.  Which sent me back to the drawing board.

But, today, TODAY, I had an epiphany.  I’m a believer in thinking that I was put on this Earth to do something in the health and fitness field.  But, I also do enjoy “business” and think I want to continue to do something related to that.  I’ve looked at graduate programs all over lately, all involving health and a lot of science.  Except, there’s one program at UT that isn’t straight science.  Sports Management.  The best of both worlds.  What do you do with that kind of degree?  Who knows.  But, the opportunities are limitless.  And what a great school to get that kind of education!  UT has a fantastic athletic department. 

I could still apply for Fall by sending in all my stuff by May 1.  And this may sound crazy, but I am think I am gonna go through the application motions full throttle.  I need to take the GRE.  I need to get 3 letters of recommendation.  I need to fill out my application.  And I need to write one heckuva personal statement.

All of which I think I can do relatively quickly and relatively well.

Today is one of those days.  I do not like my job.  And this makes me not like anything else. MJ and I had a long talk about this yesterday at lunch.  We both aren’t happy at work.  And, unfortunately, that makes us not happy in life.  The fact that either one of us would snap or get angry at our perfect four-legged friends just because they are happy to see us, is a pretty good example.

Ever since the NKOTB concert when I sent a “Selena por vida” text message to some random number in order to get my text to flash upon the screen amidst all the “WE LOVE YOU JOEY” messages fans were sending, I have gotten a random text on Friday afternoons asking me to make a prediction on something.  After about a couple months, I decided to store this phone number in my phone as “A$$holes”.  Because that’s what they were. 

Fast forward to today, when I am drowning in a pool of work, frustration is leaking out of my eyes and ears (I’ve flipped the bird to my computer screen three times and counting), I get another prediction text message from the a-holes.  This just about sets me over the edge.  So, I decide to respond to see what will happen.  I want to be unsubscribed from these mass texts, so I reply “QUIT F*CKING TEXTING ME”. 

Simple as that.  Two seconds later I get a response, “You have been unsubscribed from Predicto”.

Finally, a break.

I don’t know if it’s all the Tylenol PM I’ve been taking lately to aid in getting over this cold or what, but I’ve been having some interesting dreams.  I’m not going to complain, they have been pretty cool dreams…

On Sunday night, I dreamt that I was able to go upstairs at Graceland to see Elvis’ and Lisa Marie’s bedrooms.  I remember being surprised at how small and normal they were.  In fact, LM’s bedroom still had a crib in it which doesn’t make sense because she was 6 or 7 when Elvis died.  Who knows, maybe she really liked it.

Wednesday night ,I dreamt that I was able to do pull-ups.  Ever since I got my chin up bar about a year ago, I have had regular dreams where I am able to do pull-ups.  Which is something I am definitely not able to do in real life.  But, in my dreams they are so easy and I always laugh at why I didn’t think I was able to do them before.  This dream was different in that I was in the movie “Slumdog Millionaire” and it was during the train scene.  I was on the train doing pull-ups to the weird “Paper Planes” song with the gunshots.  The two little boys were there with me, cheering me on.  Interesting.

Last night, I dreamt that Suz told me to quit my job.  

Only one of those dreams is possible 🙂

About a month ago my Mom received this email:

Hi Michaela,

My name is Liz Hoffmaster. We bought your house at 3200 Bryker Dr in 1997. Last year we remodeled and found this sweet note that Emily Clark wrote on the sheetrock in the closet. The workers cut it out and we still have it. We thought Emily might smile to see it so if you have an address for her we could sent it to, I would like to do that.

Many thanks and happy holidays,

I had completely forgotten about that note until I saw this email.  And then the memory of drafting this letter on a note pad and then squeezing into my tiny closet to write it on the wall all came back to me.  I couldn’t remember what I had said and had no idea that I had said so much, until I saw the actual sheetrock.  When my parents decided to sell that house I was so upset… we had lived there from the time I was 4 to the time I was 15 and so I had a million and one memories.  It was a great neighborhood, my BFF lived two houses down, and the house was just cool. 

When I was in Austin a couple weekends ago, we stopped by to see the house now and pick up my letter.  It looks totally different, except for the mantel in the living room.  They did a wonderful job remodeling and I definitely want to buy this house from them they day they are ready to sell!  Of course, I’ll need mucho dinero for that to happen. 

Here is the sheetrock… I put a running shoe next to it so you can see how long it is.  And yes, that is my freshman basketball picture I taped up there with masking tape… it held together well!


Dear 3200 Bryker Dr.

Oh how the years have passed us,
We were together for only 12 short years.
All the memories we share, will never be forgotten.
I can only pray that we will be together again, though I cannot promise.
You shared my laughter and eased my pain.
We tried to make you better, but found out that you were already perfect.
I grew up here with you and I shall take everything with me, as I must venture on in life.
I wish I didn’t have to, but you must know, that was out of my control.
I did everything in my power to stay,  but it didn’t work out the way I planned.
Believe me, it breaks my heart to leave you.
I hope that your future owners take good care of you.
As I write you this poem, I leave a part of me here with you, and
I hope your new owners don’t cover it up or anything like that.
I wish you the best of luck with your future, and I can tell you,
Mine won’t be the same without you.
You have all my love, 3200 Bryker Dr.
I shall always love and remember, don’t forget, miss you.
I end saying this prayer for the both of us:

Dear Lord,
Please let us be together again, meanwhile protect us from evil.



Emily Clark
June 8, 1997 

I think I was the most sentimental 15 year old in the history of all teenagers!  Last night I went through my grandma’s photo album to pull out some pictures of the house…

My favorite tree.  I loved to climb up there and lookout.  img1

Said BFF, Ross, and I cracking egg cascarones over each other.

There was a bamboo wall of sorta to the left of our house.  Bamboo just rocks.

And let’s not forget the coolest birthday party that neighborhood will ever see.  Yes, this was the beginning of my ugly boy haircut.

One of a handful of times I wore a dress.  And the mantel that still remains!img_0008

The front porch.  img_0005

I couldn’t have asked for a cooler house to grow up in.  Maybe one day my kids will say the same thing!