post card from the edge, vol. 7, or how i came home

"We die to each other daily.
What we know of other people
Is only our memory of the moments
During which we knew them.
And they have changed since then.
To pretend that they and we are the same
Is a useful and convenient social convention
Which must sometimes broken.
We must also remember
That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger." --ts eliot

i am coming home. in 26 hours, i will be finished with this job. it has been the hardest job of my life. and in the final analysis, i think i am most proud of this job. i can honestly say that i have nothing left to give of myself--not any more emotion, or thought, or effort. i am empty. and it feels good to know that. there has been room made for something else to fill me up. i have no idea what that something is, but i think for the first time in a long time, and maybe ever, i am ready to move onto something new. this experience closes a chapter in my life that has been a long time coming. blessed be.

i feel like i've sloughed off something of the old me, and i can't put my finger on it. i feel like i'm more confindent and more dependent and more vulnerable and stronger and more gentle than i have been in years. i feel like this is the real me, like maybe a lot of things before today and tomorrow and the next day were just practice. like now i'm ready to do real work, to be a real person, to really invest and jump into whatever my life is becoming, and stop holding back. it feels so good to just say that. to know that there is a point at which i can just jump, and know that i will be held, caught, and celebrated.

sometimes, when beauty and encouragment and knowledge and wisdom are right in front of you, you just miss it. so, mommy and momma cat and aunt nea and uncle ed, granny, papaw, seth, monica, will, esteban, caro, moo, and all the rest of you who love me and have been beating these lessons into my head for years-- i finally got it. this is life out loud. and i am turning the volume up. thanks be to God. i can't wait to see your faces, all your faces.

mil besos--rmg

post card from the edge, vol. 6

it's been a long hot week at camp crazy. in fact, it's so hot that the snakes are crawling into the oddest of places to find refuge. i had to close our river front today. kind of made me a little sad to know that the river is closed for the rest of the summer, even though that's only 8 more days. 8 more days, friends and neighbors, and then i come home to do whatever it is that i'm supposed to do next. i'm so excited and nervous, and a little sad that the last three months have just flown by.

let me break this week down for you in the simplest of terms. i'll just do what my 7th grade history teacher called "hit the high spots".

1) my staff and i beat the hell out of the girl scouts, who have a camp down the road from us and were dumb enough to challenge us to a flag football game. we skunked them, proving once again that jesus saves, and girl scout cookies just make you fat. it was glorious. and my mom and grammy showed up to cheer us on, which i was particularly happy about. i just stopped being sore all over my body from where the scary girls hit me, over and over and over, because cheating was the only way they were going to win. ha ha. it was amazing.

2) two of my kitchen staff boys were stupid enough to put a roasted pig head in my toilet. upon discovering it, i screamed like a little girl, and utterly queened out. my friend jackie had to get it out for me, because i started gagging, and sarah made fun of me for screaming like a girl. it was awful.

3) in retribution for the pig head, i completed the greatest prank of my life, so far. i made jello in their toilet, and covered their bathroom floor in shaving cream. i had help, but it was my idea about the jello. this cannot be overstated. i made real, congealed jello in the toilet. i am so freaking proud of this. i might not be as proud of my child, if i have one, as i am of this prank, because it was genius. and i got to use dry ice. this proves, once again, that revenge is a dish best served cold. and 18 year olds were made to be stupid, and i've already assumed that i am going to be re-pranked, and have hatched a plan for my re-prank, as well. i'll keep you posted. it'll be hard to beat the jello, though.

4) i have convinced several small children of the existance of bulligators, a carry over from my childhood. my poppy convinced me that a bulligator lived in the ill-fated basement in the house i grew up in. a bulligator is a cross between a bulldog and an alligator, and it will bite your face off. it keeps them out of scary places. they love it. i heard someone talking about their pet bulligator today, and i rubbed my hands together, content that my plan to take over the universe is, in fact, working.

life is good. pray for rain.

mil besos--rmg

post card from the edge, vol. 5

it's 9:40pm, tony bennett is on the cd player. if i had a glass of scotch in my hand, fresh from a bath, i'd never know i was at camp. i know that i will desperately miss this place when i am gone. i'm kind of ready for that feeling, right now. it's wednesday. this camp session isn't over until sunday at 10am (hint, hint for those of you who need some church and some face time with me), and i am just tired. today, i really felt tired, for the first time this whole summer. tired in my bones, like if i had to manage one more crisis, band-aid one more bruised ego, faciliate one more staff meeting, dry one more homesick tear, do one more load of sandy, wet clothing, i might just fall to pieces. that is not a luxury in which i am capable of indulging. so, i'm relishing every moment of this early evening, enjoying what has just become a nat king cole track (i got a classic ballads cd on my last break...), and thinking about folding clean laundry, so i can sleep on my bed tonight.

everything really is alright. this is not an s.o.s. this is just me being honest. i adore camp. this summer has made me remember more things that i can begin to list, learn more things than i imagined, and forced me to ask hard questions, the likes of which i am often breathless simply contemplating, much less actually confronting. i knew that this summer would do one of two things--it would either answer some questions or drag up new ones. i can honestly say that i have exactly two answers to questions i had at the beginning of the summer. and i can honestly tell you that i have about a million more questions than i did when i got here. and that's pretty amazing.

jim valvano was a coach for villanova when they won their first ncaa basketball championship. it was a cinderella story to end all cinderella stories. he was a hero of mine for a long, long time. before he died, he was on the espy awards, and talked about what it meant to live every day. he said that to really live every day, you had to laughed, cry, and think. i have lived more days out here this summer than i have in the past year. that one fact makes all the ego juggling, immaturity, maddening schedules, fussy parents, non-compliant teenagers, humidity, ant infestations, pool vacuums and rules, being rolled in the volleyball sand, eating the same meals week after week, getting grass in my hair, etc. absolutlely and totally 100% worth it. this is life, this is my day to day. whatever happens after august 14th, i will be grateful for this time in my life, come what may. i will never get this time back, and God helping me, i am trying to live, really live, every day, at camp or not. this is too amazing to allow it to stop when i go home and find out what life is outside of this place, again. i'm a little afraid, a little excited, but mostly just content to see what comes next, whenever it pokes it's head around the corner.

mil besos--rmg

by the numbers...

12--the number of toilets i have plunged so far this summer

2--the number of people i have had to send home from camp for being stupid

1--the number of toilets i have had to snake out. and yes, i do know how to snake a toilet. aren't you proud?

1 million--the number of egos i have stroked and cajoled in the pursuit of a better camping experience for my campers.

21--the number of days until i go home and sleep in a real bed and eat food that doesn't come from sysco.

21--the number of days until i have a bathroom that only belongs to me.

10--the number of years i have progressively aged and then regressed at camp, depending on the day and the situation.

9--the number of verbal smackdowns i have had to issue to people who have gotten too big for their britches.

25--the number of verbal smackdowns i WISH i had issued to people who have gotten too big for their britches

875-- the number of times i have explained why we do things a certain way, justified a postion, or gently told someone to butt the heck out of something over which they have no say.

20--the average age of my staff

27--how old i am

2--the average amount of letters i get in a week

5--the average amount of letters i mail in a week

3--the number of cd's i bought at target on my last break

12--the number of kayaks i have to unrack and rerack everyday, except for today, because God loves me enough to make it rain

15--the number of pounds i have sweated off this summer, racking and reracking kayaks

3--the number of razor blades i have gone through this summer

2--the number of sticks of deodorant i have gone through this summer

6--the average number of times i get thrown into the pool or river every week

2--the average number of loads of laundry i have to do every week, assuming that the average number of times i get pushed in the pool does not exceed 6

7--predicted number of crying girls at the dance tonight

10--predicted number of crying boys after they get the smack down for being disrespectful to women at the pool today during their devotionals tonight.

1--the number of summers i will spend doing this job. ever. seriously. i love it, but once is enough.

20--number of times a day i wish i didn't have to be the grown up.

1 million--the number of times i am grateful that i have an incredibly family and friend network that have made me the person i am today.


i know you all have real jobs, but if you're interested in spending four days at camp, helping run a session for inner-city, under priviledged children, from august 8-13th, i can definately put you to work. let me know if you're insane enough to join the freak show for a couple of days.

i love you freaks.

mil besos--rmg

post card from the edge, vol 4

i don't know when i've had a worse time at the beach. it rained. i only got to go swimming three times, and it was cloudy and overcast, so my tan isn't what i wanted it to be, at the moment. however, since i get to be head lifeguard this whole freaking week, since we are understaffed and overcommitted, i will be able to make up for lost sun by pulling kayaks in and out of the river, and making sure small children don't end at the bottom of the guad.

there are days here that seem like months. i can't remember being this homesick, even when i was a camper. my cousin jeane used to go to a camp for special children, and when she would come home from a week away, she would run to her room, turn on the tv, radio, record player, and anything else she could get her hands on, and lay across her bed, just happy to be home. i would move heaven and earth to be able to go home for six hours right now, and just see my family and sit down at my table and talk to my momma. i don't even give a crap about sleeping in my own bed. and that's a stretch, because i'm kind of over sleeping in a twin bed, without my good sheets and feather pillow top.

i love my job. i love my job, everyday. i get to be outside, i get to hang out with amazing people who are asking amazing questions about God and the universe, and are learning to find good answers to those questions. i get to talk about how i feel, what i think, what i want out of life. i get to pray every day. i get to sing every day. i get to laugh and cry and think every day, and be utterly unashamed about all of those things. for the first time in a long time, i feel like i am really alive, and i am bursting with that feeling. sometimes, it's almost too much to hold inside, too much to keep to myself, and i wonder what took me so long to allow myself to feel this, to get out of the way, and just be. i feel like a can opener has been turned on inside of me, and everything i thought i could never feel or be is pouring out. and i thank God for that, even though sometimes it's intense and a little scary.

there have been days and situations lately that i know i am not big enough, or smart enough, or creative enough, or brave enough to handle. but i have. and i have no explanation other than God as to how those days and situations got handled. i am consistently caught off guard by what comes out of my mouth, by conversations i'm allowed to have, by decisions i have to make, because i know that in a very real sense, i'm definately not the one doing the real work. i just feel open in a new way to letting God do the work that needs to be done through me. now, you can think i've gone off my rocker, flipped my lid, and take a bit of a crazy cracker. but there's no other way i can explain the things that have been happening over the summer. i know i'm not this smart, or this good. i mean, i'm freaking smart, and i am good, but this is far above and beyond what i am capable of doing. and i love knowing that and living into that. getting out of the way is the hardest thing i have to do everyday. because the minute i start doing this job, and stop letting God do it through me, things will go to hell awfully fast. and i don't want that, because too many good things will be lost, not the least of which is this time i get to spend with God, every day, doing this thing.

i am tired. i will be tired tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably the day after that, too. and the easy days are harder than i imagined the hardest days would be. and that's ok. this yoke is much easier than i imagined. the burden is light in a way i never imagined, because i can rest in the knowledge that, in a very real sense, i am just along for the ride, just the jar that holds the water.

it's midnight, and i'm probably not making a lot of sense. so many things seem to bubble up before i go to sleep. there are letters to write, phone calls that will have to wait for tomorrow, evaluations i need to finish, chapters in the book to edit and email out, and work emails i need to return. there are questions about my future that i'm not ready to ask, or answer, and that's ok. i can feel the changes coming, the way you can feel a storm about to blow in, when the air feels and smells heavy with rain, somewhere between a caress and a punch, somewhere between excitement and anxiety. all things shall be well. life sits on a spiral. blessed be.

mil besos--rmg

this is from when i fell out of the kayak during staff wee and hit my leg on a low water bridge. it was pretty incredible. it looks much better, now. it was lovingly referred to as my "leg herp" by my staff.  

small consolation...

i'm hiding in my room before my next round of meetings. ryan adams is on repeat. i just ate some chinese food that was less than stellar, and managed to get 9 hours of sleep last night, wash all my laundry, and treat the gigantic zit that formed on my upper lip during the marathon beach retreat from hell. and in spite of all of that, i still love the fact that i'm at camp. i'm excited and terrified about what may or may not happen when i leave this place. i walk a tight rope everyday. and i like that. but i'm a little tired right now, and i wish like anything that i had more than 24 hours between finishing one thing and starting the next one. there are so many things to say, so much i want to write, but there's just not enough time to put it all down. i will try and do a big post tonight, full of rambling, just like i know you like it. mil besos--rmg

post card from the edge, vol. 2

"when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro"--hunter s. thompson, by way of corywill...

oh, my sweet people. it's been a long week and a half. right now, i'd like to stare down a bottle of something you have to be 21 to buy, and sleep for 36 hours straight. in the last three weeks, i've made a cps call, put an employee on probation, and fired two people for smoking pot behind the cabins where small children sleep. i'm kind of over being in charge, for the moment. i'm about to run to chapel, and listen to the primary campers talk to God. that is amazing, and that is why i'm glad i am here. because, in the long run, it's not about the drama. it's not about people who won't act right, no matter how many incentives or threats i throw at their feet. at the end of the day, it's about those little kids, who sing and learn, and grown up to be us, and do the same thing for other little kids that we've done for them. case in point, a counselor who was on summer staff when i was 11 or 12 sent his baby girl to us this week, so we could do for her what he did for us. life is a wheel.

congrats to john james derkits III, who became a deacon on saturday. and congrats to laura jane for being the best seminary wife in the world.

i'm using my teaching time this week to catch up on correspondence, so be looking in your mailbox for a little something from camp crazy. life is good, and beautiful, even when it's hard and confusing. i remember that when i watch the sun set, and the stars come up, and it seems easier to remember it here.

i saw three shooting stars the other night. and with that, i'm going to go steal some adderall from a third grader.

mil besos--rmg

the (amazing and ) fabulous adventures of cat girl and swamp ass (her brother)

oh friends and neighbors, it's been a long week. i'm talking years long. last week was like a first date, and i had no idea what to expect. this week has been worse than my last date, which if you've forgotten, was three years ago, featured a creepy pony-tail man, and ended with me fleeing one of my favorite watering holes in austin in utter shame and terror.

so last week, i was reunited with an individual i never expected to see, again. cat girl was in my cabin for a weekend retreat when she was in third or fourth grade. i remember her because she talked incessantly about her cats and how much she missed them. this is not unusual for primary campers, since it's one of their first times away from home for any length of time. what was weird was just this camper. and, i'm embarassed to say, much to my chagrin, she was not only cat girl, she was smelly cat girl, all my gentle pleadings with the whole cabin to bathe and not return home smelling like a foot. i tried to bond with this child, and learned the lesson that not ever camper will be your favorite, and you will not be the favorite of every camper. oh cat girl, the wisdom you imparted...and literally changed my life. you freak me out a little bit, still, but i do love you.

imagine my suprise when i was doing registration last week, looked up and saw the face of cat girl, only this time, she was all grown up. she was also still unmistakenly cat girl. i was terrified that she was going to get eaten alive by the trampy girls, the popular girls, the scary girls, and the jocks. she thrived, proving my father's adage that it does, in fact "take all kinds". cat girl was asked to dance by the cutest boy on kitchen staff, in front of her cat girl entourage (because even though she was cat girl, she had a whole following...grace IS amazing), on his knees. and even though it was hard to watch her struggle through what may have been her first boy/girl dance, and because i kept tearing up everytime i looked at her little face, adoring this boy, and knowing that for just a moment, she was the girl every other girl wanted to be, i was happy for her, i was happy to know her, happy that she had been my little cat girl, and had come back to teach me another lesson about life. it was pretty cool.

she came back this week. i almost died (again) at registration. only this time, she brought her brother, swamp ass. he's this really tall kid who looks like he's been put together with paper clips and rubber bands, and pretty much lives in jeans, hiking boots, and graphic t's. he looks kind of like a napolean dynamite, minus the curly hair and glasses. now, you may think that we are cold-hearted individuals, when we make up names for people, but be honest with yourself--you do it, too. and when you have 110 kids in a camp session, certain attributes of certain children are much more recognizable than their name tags. it is a fact that this kid wears jeans every where he goes. and if it were a monetary issue, i would die before i ever made that a point of reference. it's not. i think he just really likes his jeans. it's also FREAKING HOT outside, and we play every day, for an hour. now, when one plays for an hour in shorts, one can work up quite the sweat, when one plays in jeans for an hour, one can work up a good case of what we like to refer to as swamp ass. i'll let you use your imagination. all i can say is that i hope the young man brought some gold bond with him, or can borrow some from his cabin counselor. in any event, he achieved a level of swamp ass at which everyone could marvel, much to our disbelief and horror. but that kid plays like no other. it might not be pretty, and it might look like he's actually having a grande mal seizure when he plays any and every game, but he has the best time playing, whether it's frisbee or dodgeball or counselor hunt. swamp ass plays his guts out. and i find it more and more probable that God's sense of humor trumps all, because when i found out that cat girl and swamp ass were brother and sister, i accidentally peed in the pool. it was just all too perfect. and i love them, in the midst of their weirdness and akwardness. and i wonder if God feels that way about us, too. it was an amazing moment on many levels.

so, cat girl and swamp ass, this post is for you. you were the face of Christ to me, this week. thanks be to God.

mil besos, and a long hot shower--rmg

postcard from the edge, vol. 1

" when true simplicity is gained, to bow and bend, we shan't be ashamed, and turn, turn will be our delight til we end up in the place that's right..." so goes the first week of camp with the campers in tow. the last three weeks have been so full of so many things. i think i've laughed and cried a little bit everyday. oh, and i had to get a tetanus shot today. i got a real beauty of a scrape all down my right shin when i fell out of my kayak, and since the guadalupe just isn't as clean as she used to be, nurse katy thought i needed to get a stick. my arm hurts, now, as well. but at least i won't be getting lock jaw anytime in the next ten years. or diptheria. it's good to have my bases covered. camp is a hoot. i saw a kid try to stick a whole water bottle in his mouth tonight. i have had to ask campers to put on more clothes, to stop touching each other, and to get off their cell phones. granted, i've had to ask that from a couple of my staff members, too, so i'm just thankful no one is pregnant, yet. what is it about freaking church camp that makes people want to do smootching around in the bushes? someone should bottle and sell that--they'd make a mint. i got to take one of my staffers to the er in kerrville, today. it was large. he's a funny kid. he actually leaned over at one point while we were waiting for the doc to read his x-rays, and (this was unprovoked, totally, i swear, because contrary to popular myth, i don't really talk about farting with anyone outside of close family and friends...) and farted ON me. not at me, not in my general direction, but ON me. oddly enough, we've been working on a nature trail on camp property and laying down cedar posts, which is exactly what this fart smelled like. and i told him so. he agreed. oh, and tonight, i had my first serenade. this is a very big deal at camp. my guys' staff came over and sang me a song before i went to bed. they sang me "drive on" by jack ingram. great song. i cried while they were singing, because i am a total push over for nice things. and they said they loved me when they left. it's good to be loved. my return key is stuck again, so i'll shut this day down. life is good. i'm glad i'm here. it's time for some advil for my arm. tomorrow is dance night, which translates into a huge dose of birthcontrol for yours truly. how any of us managed to become modrately functional adults after the horrors of adolescense is beyond me...i can already smell the old spice and the hormones, and the dance is still almost 20 hours away. geeze, oh man. oh, and congrats to esteban, who finished his first marathon on sunday. i love you! and happy late birthday to beano. i owe you a phone call. and you too, anna. and you too, moo-moo. mil besos--rmg

for poppy...

my gramps died last night. he was taking out the trash, after a long, fun weekend, walked out of his back door and into the arms of a loving and merciful God. i've been running in a fog since five this morning, and i really just want some sleep. but i wanted to talk about my poppy, first. some of you knew him, some of you don't, but it's my blog, so here we go...

poppy was my own personal super hero. there was no one bigger, stronger, better, kinder, gentler, wiser, tougher, or more amazing than my poppy. from the time i could crawl into the cab of his pickup until i had to start nursery school, i went everywhere he did. even to construction jobs. he never talked down to me, never made me think i couldn't do just what i set out to do, never let me give up or give in. he taught me the value of a day's work, and the value of a day's pay. he taught me that if you have a job to do, do it right and be proud of your work. he taught me to treat people fairly, regardless of what color their skin was, what kind of education they had, or how much money they had in their pockets. family always came first, and even though it sometimes meant that he had to drive 80 miles one way to provide for his family, he did it. giving of your time and your resources was big for poppy. he went on two vet trips to honduras, gave away countless gobs of candy to hungry children, and brightened up the lives of everyone he visited with.

poppy could have cared less about fancy theology. God was real, Jesus was real, and both had bailed his butt out of many a pot of hot water. faith drove him, and you could feel that in his presence. poppy prayed for a list of people every morning, our family, his friends, neighbors, people from church, etc. what his prayers may have lacked in eloquence, they made up for in love and sincerity. poppy always reminded me to pray, reminded me that God was good, all the time, even when things weren't fair or ok. reminded me that the rain falls on the just and the unjust, and that the bitter comes with the sweet.

poppy always had time for a story, or a cuddle, or a word of wisdom. he was never too busy, or too tired, or too grown up to play or laugh or chat. poppy's advice was simple, direct, and never sugar-coated. he taught me to hunt and fish, how to drive, and how to tell a good story. he had beautiful blue eyes that had seen a million miles, a million plumb lines, a million pounds of concrete, the pyramids in egypt, the wailing wall in jerusalem, the beaches of mexico, and the horror of war in korea, but they still managed to laugh and twinkle everytime we sat around the table together. i think i will miss that most of all.

so, sweet poppy, enjoy your first night home. hunt big, tell my daddy i said hello. we'll all be home soon, so keep the light on, and know we love you.

mil besos--rmg

charmed life

so, in the past, oh 15 days, i have seen three famous people who's work i adore.

i took my mom to see merle haggard and bob dylan. it was an incredible show. i like merle haggard, don't get me wrong. but bob dylan sits high in my pantheon. seeing him in real life was amazing. from the minute he launched into "maggie's farm" until the last bit of reverb of "all along the watchtower", i was enthralled, entranced, fixated, mesmerized, etc. the whole rest of the world outside could have gone to hell, and i wouldn't have known a thing about it. some of you know my deep love for mr. dylan, so you can imagine that when he started singing "don't think twice, it's alright", that i cried a little bit. i love that song. it's one of those songs that speaks to me, and says something different every time. the harmonica solos were enough to send me into low orbit. and his lap steel player may well have ascended some kind of existencial plane and become a little more than a man and a little less than a god, that night--and he played a mean banjo, too. "like a rolling stone" was part of the second encore, and it was as tight and solid, light, and lovely as anything i've heard on an album, but better, because i was right there. i would have paid twice what i did to be there with my mom. it was amazing to see bob dylan, but it was twice as nice to see him with mom.

and then we saw dennis quaid. not only saw him play with his band, but saw him at gruene hall, and TOUCHED him (on the hand, and in a totally appropriate way, because he's remarried, now). that is one hot dad. and he plays a good show. and represents very well in real life. and he played "gloria" and "great balls of fire", two of my favorite songs, ever, in the whole world.

it's been a nice little run of good music, lately. the laundry monster demands to be appeased. and i have about 80 million things to do. c'est la vie, non?

mil besos--rmg

april, and everything after...

it seems that may is close upon my heels. and while april hasn't been the cruelest month, it has surely flown by in the blink of an eye. camp is looming, and i'm wavering between being scared and excited. mostly, i'm excited, and can't wait to start being there. we set the orientation schedule on tuesday, and i think it's going to be a great set up to start the staff off right. i have to say that i'm mostly excited about the crawfish boil we've got set up. i mean, the other stuff is fun and enriching and all that crap, but what's not to like about crawfish? FREE crawfish, even.

sweet caroline married her beloved mr. christman last week, and it was a lovely time. nothing could be finer than watching someone you love love someone enough to commit the rest of their lives to that person. i was humbled and blessed to have been a part of their special day. the best thing that i can say about this marriage, in particular, is that it gives me hope. now i know i have the tendency to get all mushy, but indulge me, the varsity letterman bridesmaid, to mush away.

sweet caroline, moo, and i have been in the trenches together, as only sister-friends can be. we have like scum bag boys who have broken our hearts. we have liked boys who were not good for us, or good too us, or just bad fits. moo is the one who keeps our faith, reminds us of the promises that have been made that we won't be alone forever. caro is the one who reminds us that we have to listen to our heads and our hearts, because too much or too little of either one makes for a poor experience. and i like to prentend that i'm the one who watches from the corner, taking in all the information, and processing it into something like a book report, for further digestion and reflection. but my sweet caroline had all but thrown in the towel. and then came mr. christman, on something like a modern day white horse, and swept our girl off her feet in short order, and put her firmly back in the game. he put a light behind her eyes that i had seen flicker, but he had something inside of him that made it glow like a spotlight. and for that, regardless of all my threats to kill him if he put a foot wrong, i will love him, too. and my pride and wonder in sweet caroline having the guts and the courage and the wonderment to gamble on love makes me wonder and hope that i can have the will to do the same, one day.

life is good. never doubt it for a minute.

mil besos--rmg

this was not the most bizarre thing i saw on bourbon street. but it was a close second. 

pat o'briens in the french quarter on bachelorette party night. need i say more? moo and i put on our most alluring faces and went on a husband hunt. ok, not really, but we had a great time.  

the bride wore white...and lucious curls. caro has perfect hair. and she's married. i want to be caro when i grow up. 

bridesmaids' running amok. cigars were as close to mayhem as we got...we were sternly warned about the use of adult bevs prior to nuptials. but the ladies have gots to have some fun...and the fun was had. 

southern bridesmaid hair--it's all about the poof, people. it's all about the poof. and the little black dress helps, too. and some industrial strenght hair glue never hurts... 

ugh...

i hate to be a downer, but seriously...this takes the cake. i need a vacation from my subconscious. the wedding was wonderful, beautiful, glorious, and everything a wedding should be. and then i drove for 8 hours thinking about weddings, people in love, etc. it seriously jacked with my head, and i had bizarre and disturbing, and very lucid dreams for the better part of three hours this morning. it's never fun to wake up and want to cry. major, major blah.

in other news, related to my trip, new orleans looked better than i expected, but not as good as i hoped. i saw an alligator crossing the highway, a turtle crossing the highway, and some hateful woman outside houston took a huge dump and stopped up a toilet that i desperately needed to use. so, i plunged my first and (PLEASE TO GOD) hopefully last gas station toilet. and to add insult to injury, it was the kind of gas station that makes you buy something to use their bathroom. considering that i performed maintenence, i think i should have gotten a pass on the obligatory purchase. my only complaint, other than that, was that there was no graffitti in said bathroom, and now i have to invent someway to get the plunging story into my book. thoughts?

it's almost going-home time. i'm vacillating between stopping to work out, or just going home and going straight to bed, not passing go, and not collecting two hundred dollars. maybe i'll flip for it. or, i may be trapped in the computer room, because stinky j just stuck his hands down his pants and then proceeded to rub down the doorknob. i love this child, but he is a walking advertisement for strict and potent birthcontrol.

mil besos, and dreamless sleep--rmg

long time coming

ok, so i will admit that blogging hasn't been on my to do list of late. but it has been on my mind. the truth of the matter is that i've been swamped with work, work, and a little bit more work. and when i do get a minute to myself, i've been trying to make myself run or go to curves, which seems to be the salvation of chubby housewives everywhere, and me, single, chubby, 27 me. lucky for me, today the soundtrack at curves was 80's girl rock. did i mention that in addition to working at my old summer camp, i also get to be a lifeguard? hence with all the running and self-improvement. oh, and i actulaly joined a tanning salon. you can pick youselves off the floor now. i even suprise myself, once in a while. the rest of the time, when i'm not working, or sleeping, or working off the 30 odd pounds of taco bell i packed onto myself in college, i'm trying like the dickens not to be so irritated by mundane crap. i'll let you in on a little secret: despite the charming personality i let you people see, i'm really quite easily irritated. and since my friend tpon told me once that me actually admitting my irritations made me "more edgy and less like pollyana always blowing rays of sunshine up people's posteriors", i'll let you in on the short list.

1. i am highly irritated and grossed out by the mucinex commercials. there's nothing more insulting and gross than talking and dancing snot wads in a conga line. in fact, it makes me want to just suffer through my allergy attacks than buy their stupid dancing snot wad product.

2. i am highly irritated and insulted that abc has commissioned a remake of the Ten Commandments. charlton heston IS moses, and the parting of the red sea is supposed to look like jello, crappily filmed on a sound stage. that's the way it happened, as far as i'm concerned. this is a travesty. and i will watch the new one, just so i can complain that it's not as good as the first one. btw, we had to watch the 1st version in my 6th grade social studies class when we studied ancient egypt. that would never happen anywhere else in the world, i guarantee it.

3. i hate that i watch 24 like a fiend. same goes for lost. i am cracked out on both of these shows. for someone who barely watched cable tv, or any tv, for the better part of four years, this is like eating a whole chocolate cake after months of doing adkins. not that i'd know anything about that...the shows are ridiculous to the point of being, well, ridiculous. smell the fart acting, implausible story lines, and crazy background music that makes my heart beat fast all combine to make my monday and wednesday nights complete. i'm really irritated that invasion is now on hiatus. that show sucks, too, but i have to watch it. it's like a compulsion. like how i have to have the closet door shut when i sleep, or can't stand to have open cabinet doors in the bathroom or the kitchen. i hate how much i like these shows.

4. sean hannity irritates me to the point of no return. i even like rush limbaugh better than i like sean hannity, and that's a hard thing for me to say. talk radio, since i'm now a part time office girl, has become a big part of my day. i can grin and bear it through rush, but sean hannity makes me want to listen to nails grating on a chalk board rather than his pedantic nattering. sorry, i mean his sanctimonious pedantic nattering. i hate it when i leave that part out. he's a hack. that's right, a hack. it's one thing to disagree with politics, it's another to just bully people and shout them down. i hope he's secretly a nice person at home, because he's a butthole at his job. that's right, a butthole. and i think he and bill o'reilly should be marooned on an island together, and have to figure out how to turn their egos into food and water. if they did that, we could solve the hunger issue immediately. imagine what we could do if we could turn their egos into petroleum products...the possibilities are endless.

5. i'm irritated by politics. that's all i'll say about that, because as the reigning raging liberal in my family, most of whom read this blog, i'd like to keep the peace, and still be invited to eat and visit, and live with them.

6. i'm irritated that you can't use airline miles whenever you want to. i know the reasons, i just don't like them.

7. i'm irritated that coke zero has aspertame in it. why can't they make it with splenda?

8. i'm irritated that i don't always trust my emotions enough to act on them. i'm irritated that i buffer my feelings and thoughts to be pleasing, accomodating, and nice. secretly, i hate being nice. there's a short list of people who i'd like to call out, yell at, tell how it is, etc. but i won't do that, probably ever, because the fall out just wouldn't be worth it. i'm irritated by people who continually crap away potential, hold on to things of which they should let go, don't keep up with current events, don't keep up with each other, and who wonder who's mad at them for not doing those things. i'm irritated that i censor those feelings, and don't say that to the people who need that said to them. it's just as bad as pretending everything is fine, when everyone knows it's not.

9. i'm irritated that i can only walk out of starbucks without a cd every other time i go in there. they have the best music. and i always get the most random stuff. it's worse than when i go to target, and come out with crap i don't need. or when i actually get to go to waterloo records, and buy music i've never heard of, listen to for a month, and then put away and don't listen to for another six months. madness!!

there. that's all. now you get why i'm not blogging lately. aren't you glad i ran out of energy and funny things (ok, mostly funny) things to say at number 9? taking the long view, i will say that things are well, for the most part. i'm healthy, my family is healthy. my nephew is cutting teeth, which is amazing to me. i've gotten the job i've wanted since i was 12, and even though it's just for the summer, i look forward to that time, in that place, with those people. things are moving forward for a great summer at camp. it's springtime, and the days are lovely.

mil besos--rmg