The Milkman's Baby

I come from a family of skinny people. I don't mean thin people or people who have to work at it, I mean bony, skinny people who are annoying. In my extended family, there are normal people. Some thin, some athletic, and some who could stand to lose a couple of pounds. But in this whole, monstrous family, I came from the two freaks. My mother, at 5'10" is on the tall side. She was a runner in high school and weighed about 120lbs until the greatest thing in her entire life happened: me, obviously. Then there is the Daddy. He is all of 5'9", weighing in around a whopping 150lbs, skinny bastard. Nathan, the 22 year old brother waited until college to weigh over 130. He is 5'11" and couldn't gain a pound over 125 until the age of 18. More than frustrating. The boy was on a special high calorie diet. He had to drink chocolate milk for the extra fat. And as far as James goes, we'll just have to see. He's 11, but he is on track to be the tallest. He worries about getting fat, because then what will happen to his six pack. Really? Then he comments about how fat he is. I hate him. I tell him I was skinnier than he was at his age, and he just laughs and laughs. I am by no means fat, but I am not a skinny freak either. At 5'8", I am a shorty. Even though my dad is only a little over an inch taller, he's seems much bigger, because well he's my dad. I am different. And you would think, that as strong as these skinny genes are, I would not have to work so hard. I was the athlete in the family. They all were runners, but I was the swimmer. I am normal. They are not. I did every sport there was to do in middle school. I took all the classes, camps and training my dad, grandma, mom would sign me up for. I ate as much as  I could, or I would fall over. It was great. You see the difference between myself and the men in my life is they don't LOVE food. I love food. SO being in sports was awesome. Waking up every morning to 2 hours of swimming was a great way to not gain weight. Hear I am, 6 years later, missing the grueling workouts that were the bane of my existence. 

But the differences don't stop at body type. They are all brunettes. Granted, I'm no longer a blond, but I was for a longer time than any of them. Then we can move onto the intelligence. Both of my parents are chemical engineers. My brother is now an electrical engineer. James will now doubt be able to take things apart with the greatest of ease. What was my practical sciency major? History. Yes, a liberal arts major. And no, I do not teach. Something about a lack of patience. And the kicker, my family is painfully shy. My parents have learned to be better with age. Now it still takes time to see them as outgoing people, but they can come off a little harsh because they are shy. As far as Nathan is concerned, people don't even know he exists because he is never around, avoiding social engagements like the plague. His voice was unheard for years it seemed. They say a talkative older sibling makes it harder on kids. I just think what I had to say was more interesting, that theory can't possibly be right. James on the other hand is a mix. He can be shy, but once he's comfortable, he gets way to comfortable. Like whoa buddy. Except for the fact that I have the exact same face as my mother and share a hereditary ear anomaly with my father, I would swear I was adopted.

Celebrating Is Hard On The System

The past week has been quite a doozie. There is nothing quite like having a friend force you into over indulgence because they have some thing going on. Be it leaving me, Kate, or coming back to remind me you already left me, G.Mc., there is no way to say no. I even had an engagement party to attend in the middle of all this.

So my weekend started Wednesday, a la college style. Honestly, if this weekend had happened 2 years ago, it might not have even made a blip, but man am I out of practice for the marathons. Started with margaritas, seemed safe enough, but never trust the $1 margaritas, something is always wrong. The plan was to go have a couple brews at my local watering hole, but somehow we got swept up in another awkward and forced CLC reunion. That is until I got absolutely hammered and decided that these people were my actual friends, not just people I passed in the hall for 4 years. But not only was high school discussed, but middle school, because the memories from high school just weren't embarrassing enough. Somehow, Kate in all her infinite wisdom managed to get me to chauffeur her over to Taco C for one last terrible decision (the next morning I got a text informing me that her car is covered in queso, hilarious because it wasn't my fault). We were interrupted my her dear mother, who was then informed by Kate that she was ruining "our moment". Whoa Nelly, not sure what that means. Since the moment was over, I went home, to awaken mere hours later with one of those headaches that makes you stop caring about absolutely anything except how to stop the headache. Great way to go to work on a busy Thursday, so professional.

Without being fully recovered, mentally or physically, a visitor from the north arrived and the revelry continued. Which brings us to bowling. I had the best and worst games of my life. I mean just embarrassingly terrible first game. I played better as we kept going, but I'm not sure i was able to erase the memories of the other players. Terrible. Woke up ready to eat the glory the is a Classic breakfast. Stuffed. Little Woodrow's for day drinking. Random bars for Sunday Funday. It really was just too much. I took Monday off to recover, and yet am still just too tired to work.

I ended the drink fest at Kate's with wine. I can see how that could be confusing because this blog is half about how Kate left me so how could I be at her place. Well The Bachelor was one, and I think I've made i clear that this crap TV show is just entertaining enough to make me watch it if I'm bribed with wine. Donna, the mother, and I watched our weekly dose of b.s. TV. Our routines not going to change just because Kate left, ludicrous, but next week my Momma is coming with me, so the cycle will continue.

I Forgot What Sun Looked Like, Thank You For Bringing It Back

This weekend was a good weekend. I didn't leave the T Cove once, not once, from Friday to Monday morning. And yet, I wasn't bored. Some Saturdays, I wake up and can't wait to find something to do. Last weekend that something was drinking, this weekend, running. Doesn't even sound like the same person, I know.

So after work Friday, I saw Valentines Day. It was cute, funny, everything you would expect it to be. Just a solid movie. Plus, there was popcorn, so I was happy. When I got home, it was impromptu movie night with the ladies. About 8 of my moms friends came over for dinner, dessert wine, and 500 Days of Summer. I love oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Love them. But since everyone of the people there was on one "diet" or another, the plate kept getting pushed from end to end of the table, because people have no self control. Yet somehow, the plate was empty in only a few minutes. Where did the diets go? Needless to say, i was drunk early, watched some Olympics, because I am in fact an American, and then passed out only to awaken to a horrific red wine headache.

Saturday started gross. Gray gray gray. It's been gray for weeks I feel like. Someone up there heard the bitching and the sky opened up. Awesome. I went on a run (on a Saturday?!?) Shocking, I know. What can I say, I'm trying. Sat on the patio for a bit, because, again, it was awesome outside. See for yourself...

Then we went to a neighborhood VDay party. Pink margaritas = greatness, thank you momma. Cindy went and brought her damn cookies, for the second night in a row, so I ate those with some other delectables. Confiscated a bottle of champagne, which was finished by Hallie, Kate and myself. Speaking of Hallie, Congrats on the new house Anne! Movin' on up. So Saturday ended the same way as Friday, drunk and well fed.

Sunday was more of the same. Running, drinking, eating, movie. This time it was "The Invention of Lying". Good movie. When I left for work on Monday, I realized I hadn't ventured out in over 48 hours. Weird how full a weekend can seem when you actually did a whole lotta nothing.

Smörgåsbord

I have a lot of half-blogs running through my head, so I will join them to create one giant monster blog. Well, we'll see, maybe it won't be "giant".

Thoughts from Tuesday's possible blog. The Bachelor is crap. I watch it, but it is crap. One of the reasons to indulge is the next day chit chatting that ensues. I always find it fun to rehash and bitch about the previous episode. But c'mon Jake, Vienna? Really? Super gross.

The weather. I know that rainy weather makes us thankful for warm, sunny days. I don't care. I hate it. One or the other, weather gods, one or the other. Nice, sunny, bright, cold as fuck days, totally doable. Warm thunderstorms that make 2pm look like 8pm, cozy. Sleet, the bane of my existence. I have only been running for a month now, and half the time, it has been crap crap crap. I think god just likes me out of shape. That must be what it is. Some of you I'm sure are saying, just go to a gym. Well a gym costs money my friends, money I don't have.

The weekend. My brother and father are heading up to New England to ski with the cousins. I have never skied in the east, only in west, and was quite displeased when I found out like 2 days ago I wasn't included in this trip. The purse strings are tightening. I of course am referring to my mother.

But with them gone, that means the house will be half empty, sweet. As I am writing this, I am realizing that maybe I haven't made it perfectly clear that I live "at home". I'm sure you could figure it out, but maybe I haven't stated it. It is not something that defines me, I just happen to find it more appealing than working in hell (read Boca). Moving on. Momma has proposed a movie night to the women of Timber Cove, so we'll see what happens, and if I decide to go.

Almost lastly,  Julie I am jealous of your Mardi Gras, truly. As far as cameras go. One of ours was actually dropped into a glass of water, basically placed there by the owner. Very nice. But cameras are needed, or else your whole trip will be lost. The likelihood of you remembering the night 12-15 hours in is doubtful. At least it was for us. Think, "The Hangover" camera montage.

Lastly, how is "a lot", not one word. Stupid. Oh, and people using their instead of they're. I'm channeling Ross at the moment. Red Ross.

Done.

My Amazing Powers of Persuasion... If Only I Could Use Them On Someone Besides Myself.

Per my previous post, I am running this year. I'm not saying something ridiculous, like run a marathon. My goal is to run 5k's, emphasis on the "s", as in multiple. If I went out and ran, I could run the 3.1 miles it took to fulfill this goal. But the reason for the "s" is that I believe that if I am in good enough shape to run 5k's, I am in good enough shape. And contrary to popular belief, I like working out. I understand the concept of endorphins. It makes me feel better. Physically and mentally. Now, with all these reasons, it would take quite a professional manipulator to convince me I would be better served sitting on the couch. Enter, me.

I have been running now for 3 weeks, no big thing. But seeing as how once you workout for a couple of weeks, you get addicted, I am in crucial "keep at it" phase. The first 2 weeks went by easy. Ran my mandatory 3 times the first week. For the second week, I got out there 4 times. I knew the cold weather was coming, so I wanted to front load my week so I wouldn't miss workouts. Cold weather you say? If I am speaking to yankees, you will not understand. For the first 2 weeks, I was running in the upper 60's. It was glorious. The last 6 days have been in the low 50's. I do understand the 50 is not cold, but coupled with darkness and rain, it's just not going to happen. Nope.

Monday. I have all week. We'll wait till it warms up a bit.

On Tuesday, I decided, fuck it, I can do it. But then I remembered that only 5 minutes earlier I had decided to wash my running clothes, because I wasn't running that night. Very tricky on my part. 

Wednesday. Enough is enough. I don't car how cold it is, I'm running. On the drive home, the rain started. At first it was just spitting, I decided I was gonna be real tough. But by the time I got home, pouring. Not gonna do it.

Which brings us to Thursday. Make or break time. My phone was dead, so I had to charge it, for music purposes. Run without music? What is this, the '90s? So while that was happening, I turned on the TV, got wrapped up in a show, so I had to finish that. You can feel where this is going right. Master manipulator at work, the later I wait the colder and nastier it gets. There's only one thing that can bring a person back after such an enticing argument: a snide comment from The Mother.

Yes, she was there, in all her glory to ask the obvious question, " so, how was the run?". I'm going, geez.

So I went. I ran. I'm home. Where's the remote?

On Thanksgiving Day, All Over America, Families Sit Down To Dinner At The Same Moment - Halftime.

I love Thanksgiving. Not just the food, but everything. It's like Christmas with lower stress levels. Granted there are no gifts, but there is also no church. That sounds bad, I realize, but church is just one of those things that you have to work into your schedule. Stress. People come home for Thanksgiving too, which is nice. And when you're in school you get this nice break. Maybe I enjoy it because I haven't had one in 4 years. Last year, I was in Hell, or Florida for those not in the know, so I was working. It was the worst. At least when I worked in Austin, the 2 previous years, I could grab a bite of turkey, then head to work. In Florida, I was stuck, alone, in a place that doesn't respect tradition. Gross. I was also harassed via text messages. Nice little reminders that I wasn't sprawled on a couch watching The Game.

But all that is behind me now. This year, dinner is at our house, so more cooking falls to me. Generally I make one dish, but this year, I'm making one dish, then assisting with all the other ones. I have also been taken off green beans and given the dressing. The dressing is much more time consuming, so my busy aunt took the easier recipe. Only one problem. When I make the green beans, which I've been doing for years, I don't follow the recipe exactly. I had a couple of different secret ingredients. I also add some not so secret ingredients. Double the fried onions. Sounds simple, but it makes all the difference. Also, it sounds fat, but I'm telling you that the amount that is called for is way too little. So maybe not double, but extra.

Football should be good this year too. Last year I sat in an empty hotel room and watched the victory, but it was not the same being alone. Nathan will be at the game this year, so I will not be able to taunt him, so the Momma will be receiving most of it. Lucky her. I'm predicting a nap at one point, or at least a comatose state on the couch. Yup, that's the plan. To you and yours, Happy Thanksgiving!

Back To The Issue At Hand...

End of a four day week, and I'm just thankful it was only four days. Something about knowing it was short made me unable to cope with work at all. I mean, it was still short, but I was ready for it to be over Wednesday afternoon.


I went to the TCGC meeting/party last night. Now for those not in the know, that stands for Timber Cove Garden Club. The garden club is in charge of throwing the annual parties. I mean, we have parties every week it seems like, but there are a few parties that have been happening for decades. The meetings are during the day, so sad I'll miss them because of work. That just leaves the parties and dinners, it's like I planned it. So I am officially the youngest member ever, and my mother and I are the only two "ladies" who share an address. I mean, we aren't the first mother-daughter pair, but most of the daughters have moved out of the nest. Oh well, first time for everything.

Tonight is one of those non-annual parties. Missy G is leaving for Spain in a week so tonight is her goodbye party, should be good. Tapas, awesome. Mine will be a fusion Texas/Mexican/Spanish thing. Gotta nail down the details. I'm sure it'll all work out. So that's the pre-party plan. Then maybe we'll hit up the local brew house, because sometimes, 4 hours of drinking isn't enough.

But I have to be careful, because tomorrow is another day of college football, and we all know, the fact that you drank heavily on Friday, is no excuse when it comes to being a puss while watching football. And then Sunday, oh Sunday. NFL, all day long. I mean, last night was good and all, but one game? Not nearly enough. I'm sure like all my other planned weekends, this one will end up being totally different than expected., but as long as I end up hungover on Sunday, I'll chalk it up as a win*.

* Let me clarify, hangovers are not a win. I'm just assuming that what got me to that hungover state will have been fun and drunken. Ok, just wanted to clear that up.

We've Been Coming To The Same Party For Twelve Years Now, And In No Way Is That Depressing, or, Labor Day Weekend: Part 1

As a person new to this whole 9-5, Monday through Friday thing, 3 day weekends are definitely NOT taken for granted. When I returned from the office after lunch, the lights were off, the door was locked. It was 1:30, and everyone was gone. Done. Nice way to start the weekend. I stayed a bit, checked me email and such, and awaited H1. She was supposed to be arriving around 4:00, so I had a bit of time. Went and got my haircut. It was just a trim but everyone I saw commented on it. Now, this kind of reaction would make sense if it was now blue or boy-short, but no. I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna have to start putting more effort into my hair. But then again, I am extremely lazy, so we'll see. Hayley arrived. Went shopping for Vegas. Started drinking about 5:00. Started drinking heavily around 7:30. Went to the pool, First Friday and all. Tried to keep up with the adults and then ditched the party 45 seconds before clean up began. After party at the Chateau Stansfield, shots of JD are NOT a good idea, btw. James came in and asked to play Apples to Apples. For those who are unaware, James is 11, and it was 1:00am. To me this sounded like a great idea. I think James one, he always does. Passed the eff out, woke up to Hayley having to leave. I proceeded to sleep until 11:55. As I walked into the kitchen, my father commented that I was getting up to early, I mean what 23 year old gets up before noon, he think he's hilarious. As I started the search for fellow football watchers, A sinking suspicion that I was the only person left in the Greater Houston area fell over me. Between Possum Kingdom, Fort Worth, a Cruise, Nashville, College Station(don't really understand that one), and Austin(totally understand that one), I had some how managed to not solidify my football watching plans. Shame on me I know. So what do I do, I get crackin' on the phone calls. I lucked out however. First phone call, JR Foley. Jackpot. Me: "Hey, so I'm gonna come to Austin, but I don't have a ticket to the game". Foley:"It just so happens that I have an extra, get your ass to Austin". I love him. 30 minutes after I got up, I was in the car with my momma going to Austin for opening day, things sure can turn around quickly. To be continued...

I Know You're Interested

I mean. It will not stopping raining at the office. Everyday after lunch, I come back, it rains. I'm already primed for nap time. Big lunch, lowered productivity, and then rain? I have no chance. So, to stay productive(?), I will write an entry. It is a Tuesday, so I have no drunken debauchery stories to tell. Of course, some Tuesdays I will, but not since this whole "no drinking during the week" thing. On that subject, I had 2 beers last night. We decided that one was OK, with dinner and all. But once I start down that road, I mean, whats 2 gonna do. Oh well, better luck next time.

On to good news, Football. College, NFL, whatever, its about to dominate my life and I couldn't be happier about it. Maybe this year, the BCS will get their heads out of their asses, and stop screwing us over. One can dream. And maybe, just maybe, the Texans will end up with a truly winning season. We've ended up with 8-8 before, but can we finally get a 9 out there in front, that would be sweet. And then there is the all day drinking on Saturday at the bar, and then waking up hungover and watching football from the couch all day Sunday(only way to recover). Then there is fantasy, so all the shit talking can happen, even when not together. Glorious.

One last thing: my dear momma. There is a "Ranch Weekend" this weekend where members of the family go to the ranch and do some sort of manual labor. Be it clearing, building, or cleaning. I generally am "busy", so I never make it. In my defense, it is hot as blazes and you'd have to be flipping crazy, but whatever. So this year, I am an adult and able to go. My cousin needs a driving partner to fight off the boredom. My parents are throwing a birthday party for the bro, so I'm the only Stansfield who can attend. Before I say yes to this hell, I make sure not much is expected of me. As Michael Topping would say, I'm dainty. In this family, saying you're a girl doesn't get you out of much. I'm told it shouldn't be too bad. I say OK. Enter "The Momma". She writes an email to the entire family letting them know I am the Stansfield Representative and that they should make sure I pull my own wait and give me a lot to do. What the hell did I ever do to her??? Rude. Threw me right under the bus. I of course will help, and do what is asked of me, but did she really have to remind them of it. Now, I'll be right there, an easy victim. It's really too bad, maybe I'll come down with swine flu or something else realistic to get me on the DL.

A Silly Girl, Left To Her Own Devices

I don't know what it is about weekends and bad decisions. Well maybe not bad, just slightly more embarrassing than usual. And yet, I wouldn't change a thing. So, all in all, a good weekend.

Friday was easy enough. Walk to the pool, have a couple of beers with the neighbors. They of course tried to keep me hostage, but I prevailed and made the drive into town. Met up with the cousin and his male life partner, neither of which are gay. Went to Porch Swing. Then some genius had the bright idea of tequila shots. Yes it was me, but it wasn't my idea to order too many. So of course, I get stuck with extra shots, which bodes well for a gooood night. I know we left, went to a second bar, then late nighted at the house. My cousin grilled sausage, awesome. We played Buzz, I won, big surprise there. Woke up at 8:00 with a truly ridiculous headache. Popped some aleve, moved off the coach, and passed out for 3 more hours. woke up to this text from my mom: "John(cousin) and Caitlin need to wake up and not be good for nuthin triflin outfits, from mom and mom and grandma". Sweet really. Good for nuthing triflin outfits?? Who says that. Whatever, they think they're funny.

So at one point I drive my cousin to pick up his car. Apparently, when left in the sun, my car gets stupid hot. The cousin was a giant baby and bitched the whole 15 minutes, which is just about when it started to cool off. Then I get a call to go to a party with some old high school friends, and friends is a term I use loosely. I went, trying to expand my horizons, meet new people, yadda yadda yadda. Got there, was a pool party, I was not informed of such things. So I waited until I was almost to drunk to make it home, went home and got my suit. Came back, played beer pong, not well surprisingly. Spent too much time in the pool and stayed up way to late. Drove home at 8:30, told my mom "all" about my night, and as the rest of the family got up to go to church, I went and passed out. My mother made some snide comment about me being an adult. Whatever, adults drink and then get hangovers, so ya, I'm an adult. Ended the weekend with a couple of beers on the boat and went on the jetski, where a 14 year old smartass threw me off a couple of times. I am now at work and it is becoming apparent that today will not be my most productive.

Maybe I'll take a nap...