long time, no blog

so, it's 1am on a thursday. i've been doing data entry for about 5 hours today, cataloguing state primary candidates. right now, i hate politics with a passion. although, it's incredible there aren't more contested primaries. that's kind of sad to me. although, i am glad to not have as many names to enter into my magical database. all i can say is that the movie "ray" is an excellent movie to type along to. mercy, me.

life is good, nevertheless. i'm still in flux, for those of you keeping score at home, but there is movement on the horizon, possibly.

i'm off to see my nephew this weekend. expect an obnoxious amount of pictures when i get back.

there will be new things to say, soon. i promise.

mil besos--rmg

free minute

i have about fifteen unassigned minutes today, and all i have to say is that neil young's greatest hits just about rocked me out of my car yesterday. i remember the summer before i turned 16 as the summer i discovered neil young and learned how to drive a stick shift. both have had a lot to with how i turned out, i think. harvest was the album, and the rabbit was my car, and the back yard was my entire universe.

if i learned anything from neil young it is this: you don't have to have the world's greatest voice as long as you have something decent and beautiful to say, because at some point, the music just takes over and does what it will. and if you can write a great song and put a great harmonica solo in on top of it, you have written a truly classically kick-you-in-the-teeth-and-butter-your-biscuit great song. from the stick shift, i learned patience and finesse. i could use more stick shift driving in my life, i think. i know for a fact that i could use more neil young.

is it just me, or do harmonica solos just make you want to something crazy, like tear off all your clothes and go run screaming down the middle of the street because they are so freaking sweet? lucky for the rest of the free world that a) i have serious inhibitions and b) harmonica solos that sublime and amazing are few and far between. heart of gold, kids, that song is where it's at for little me, right now. geeze oh man.

i think i may be over-caffinated today. in fact, i'm sure of it. a large coffee drink from the 'bucks, several glasses of tea at lunch with mom and the grand'rents, and a diet coke with splenda made my lack of a nap today hardly noticiable. my plan is working...ah ha ha ha ha.

mil besos--rmg

drive by...

ok, i'm not dead. i haven't given up blogging. i haven't baricaded myself in my room with four packages of double stuff oreos and five gallons of milk to die the perfect fat girl death. i've just been really, really, really, insanely busy. and it is a good feeling.

however, in between cleaning my room, doing laundry, running to kohl's to find cute clothes for my pseudo-business trip this weekend, and planning what is becoming a very busy spring and summer, i thought i'd jot off a little post to the old blog.

for those of you keeping score at home, we can chalk four points up to my side of the board for overall good utility play on last weekend's young adult vocational retreat. it was wonderful. and even though the gulf of mexico was a scorching 56 degrees, you can bet your sweet bippy that i went swimming. it was glorious. additionally, you can chalk another 5 points onto my side of the board for having the intestinal fortitude to drop myspace from my life before it became what we like to call " a real problem". geeze oh man, it was like a high school reunion on crack, and i could feel myself slipping into my desk at the back of the class and wishing to be cool, instead of just being cool. so, sorry to the myspace folk that i miss commenting on, but wow, i had to tear myself away. plus, there is such a thing as knowing too much. in the minus column, you can chalk two points in the stupid man column, regarding the heinous amount of crushing i have been suffering lately. i will be very glad when my hormones remember i am not 12 anymore. until then, my mind and my body will be reminding them on a half-hourly basis. remind me when telling white lies became ok, as long as you didn't mean any harm, because i'd like to get in on that action. seriously, people, seriously.

there is movement on the job front. that is all i am saying about that, because even though i am 27 and should no longer believe in such things, i don't want to jinx this.

the fattest baby in the world is coming to my house this weekend. sadly, i will be in indianapolis, shamelessly angling for a job. and no, it's not as a nascar nasty. indianapolis, apparently, is church conference central. so, i'll be trying to watch my language and act like a lady for 72 hours. i'll let you know how that goes. i think i am going to get the fattest baby in the world a treat, but the jury is still out about what i should get him. his grandmother has forbidden me to bring him back anything to do with nascar, although i'm sure his father would get a big kick out of that.

life is good. i think i still have some sand in my ears.

mil besos--r

four calling birds...

merry fourth day of christmas, kiddies. hope you and yours had a blast. i think i will be sweating off christmas candy fumes until mid-march. life is good, and getting better all the time.

mil besos--r

i wanted to get a picture of mr. will in a christmas stocking, but the little fatty wouldn't fit. guess this shot of him looking perfectly angelic will have to do... 

will and his cita...i'm not sure who likes who more, but these two were just about inseperable.  

will and his great-gramps, my poppy, had a big time on christmas eve. 

will, already a very enterprising young man, is beginning to groom his hair to rival a certain mr. trump. watch out, wall street! 

my little cousin brandon took this picture. he'd had enough sugar to sink a boat, so the only way to get him to be tolerable was to give him the camera. i am a sucker for a 7 year old sugar fiend. 

will and me. this might be the cutest picture EVER. he looks like he knows a secret. 

look at those hog jaws!!  

merry christmas, happy hannukah. why yes, that IS a snotcicle hanging from my nose...

this is ridiculous. for the third christmas season in a row, i am monumentally sick. cedar fever is kicking my ass as we speak. in fact, my doc stopped just short of giving me steroids, so i'm not the total wuss i thought i was. my allergies really are that bad. and i feel horrid. seriously bad. like so bad that i had a meeting in san antonio today, and i didn't even put on make up to go. and i had no idea if there were going to be cute boys there-- and i still didn't feel well enough to put on make up.

i'm sitting in my bed, wrapped up in an old, thick, blue plaid robe that i liberated from my dad when i was 17 or so, cuddled up in my down comforter, listening to leonard cohen singing about the sisters of mercy, and wishing i could quit hacking up wads of god-knows-what. the bright spot-- last night, i wrapped almost all of my christmas presents, and it's almost time for me to have more nose spray. it's really the little things that are getting me by, today.

seriously, this is the worst time of year to be sick. i have such a love/hate relationship with christmas, anyway, this really just adds insult to injury. it was like right at the moment i was really getting into the spirit of christmas, i started feeling like utter poo. what the hell? i love texas, i was born here, and i will die here. but i freaking hate cedar trees with the white hot intensity of 10 thousand suns. seriously, seriously.

ok, it's nose spray time. i'm sure you're grossed out by now, anyway. i know i am.

happy, merry, pleasant, blah blah blah.

happy birthday, jesus. even though you were probably born sometime in september...

imagine

i know it's cliche. but i miss john lennon, even though i didn't know him. what a polarizing figure...i mean, he almost got deported from the US. he had bed-ins. he made art. he wrote songs that are so deeply embedded in my psyche that invariably a lennon song is on my internal soundtrack at least once a day. when i found out i was going to new york for the first time, strawberry fields was on the list of places to see--high up on that list, i might add. i was so intent on finding it, and so turned around in central park that i made esteban ask motorcycle cops for directions.

i wonder what john lennon would have been like as an elder statesman. i'm sure his children wonder the same thing. i guess it's a little safer for me to wonder what john lennon would have been like as an old man that it is for me to wonder the same thing about my own dad. funny how we make conjecture safe, sometimes, isn't it?

in other news, my nephew looks just like me. and apparently, is also terrifically gassy. i'm afraid more and more that my brother and sister-in-law have had my child, and that i will somehow have theirs. it's been known to happen.

i have got to get into the christmas spirit and quit being such a grinch. maybe this weekend's festivities and shopping will turn the trick. either that, or i can just buy a bottle of maker's mark and fake my way through it. i'll keep you posted. i mean, it's not that i don't like christmas, or that i don't love my family, and all that goes with holiday stuff. i just can't get excited right now, about anything. i guess it's realizing that i've been out of my old job for almost 6 months, and all the stuff i thought i would have accomplished in those 6 months is pretty much not done.

granted, i have gotten some sleep, which i desperately needed. i no longer cry at the drop of a hat. i have actually written some of my book, and taken a few pictures. i just figured by the time new year's came around, i'd be ready to shop some treatment chapters around, and i'm increasingly aware that i don't have enough material with which to do that. and i've had a couple of tepid reviews from my peeps, so i'm kind of gun shy at this point about doing anything with it. like maybe writing what i've got was just a really long journal entry, and that's secretly where it belongs. i dunno. it's hard for me to be objective about what i'm trying to make. and try as i might, i am having a hard time divorcing my essays from the pictures i've taken, even though i know i could get by with just captions. i guess i've realized that i do have something to say, i just don't know how loud i need to say it.

life is good, even when it's complicated. i DO have a purpose and a mission--but it's my job to figure that out, and then DO it with gusto. if i can dream it, i can do it.

jingle-jingle.

mil besos--rmg

love is like a coffee mug

i know, weird title for a post, huh? but i've been thinking this thought for the last three days, and didn't know what else to do but "say" it out loud.

love is like a coffee mug. or at least the kind of love i want, is. so i guess maybe i should say that relationship is like a coffee mug. i have a great affinity for coffee mugs. especially the really big kind, like the huge latte cups you get in coffee shops. caro bought me a big one with a sheep on it for christmas one year. i drink out of that one a lot, because it's big-big, and because it's pretty, and because one of my nearest and dearest gave it to me. but i digress.

see, i've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. ones i've had, ones i've wished i had, ones i imagine i will have at some point. and it all sort of comes back to the same thought-- a coffee mug. see, coffee mugs are sturdy, usually made kind of thick, to keep what's inside good and warm, with a good handle, so you can hang on, or pull it to you. coffee mugs contain, they don't keep. you don't put a lid on a coffee mug. coffee mugs can carry lots of different things---sometimes coffee, or tea, sometimes pens or paperclips, or puzzle pieces. coffee mugs can be refilled, reheated, washed out, and even put away, sometimes. coffee mugs aren't bones of contention, because there are enough coffee mugs for everyone to have whichever one they chose. coffee mugs don't actually fix your coffee, or other tasty beverage, they just take what you are willing to pour into them, and offer that same bit back, when you are ready to have it back. coffee mugs don't suddenly decide to be plates one day, either. and everyone knows immediately that the thing in your hand or on your desk is a coffee mug, and not a tea pot. coffee mugs are painfully obvious, but elegantly purposeful. they can deal with a lot of abuse, and with a little elbow grease and a resolve to be a little more careful, can usually be fixed up if they chip in a place or two. and if they shatter altogether, the shards make nice craft fodder, so at least you can be creative, if you can't have your thirst sated, anymore.

at any rate, this thought may have something to do with the fact that i am embarking on a monumental case of cedar fever as we speak, or it's brilliant, and i just don't have the brain power to fully flesh this one out at the moment.

that's what i think, for today, anyway.

mil besos--rmg

lessons learned

i learned today that after i brush baby a's teeth, it's best not to feed him for about a half hour. how did i learn this lesson--he threw up on me. that was a good lesson to learn. i feel bad for him, and bad for my snowflake pajama pants. but mostly, i feel bad for him. he's not feeling very well at the moment, but motrin and a few breathing treatments, and some tlc should put him back to rights.

i also learned today that stinky j shouldn't ever drink two bottles of gatorade if he's going to be around me for a prolonged period of time, and still be allowed to see his 13th birthday. i also learned that the only thing that can be gained from arguing about whether or not padme and queen amidala are the same person with stinky j is a headache and the strong craving for a drink and a smoke. here's the kicker-- he stayed home from school with a stomach complaint, and wore around the tightest pair of boxer shorts i have ever personally seen. when asked why he was wearing those boxers, and only those boxers, he would only gesticulate with his light saber, and threaten me with various forms of the jedi mind trick. oh, friends and neighbors, it is hard to be that kid. don't get me wrong, i love the little guy, but oh wow, do we have some ground to cover...

i learned this weekend that thanksgiving is about family, or rather i re-learned it. poppy was in the hospital over the holiday, and rather than cancel dinner at the house and keep the turkey in the freezer, we had dinner for relatives, anyway. and it was fine. and i still go to see poppy. and i learned how to make dressing. poppy is out of the hospital, now, and is recouperating at home, under the watchful eye of my grammy. hopefully, he'll be back to his old tricks by christmas. on thanksgiving, i was thankful for my crazy family, who always seems to come around when they are most needed, bringing pies and love.

i learned this weekend that 300 miles going to see my nephew is much shorter than 300 miles driving away from him. that kid is going to be a heartbreaker. i am making a short list of tricks to teach him. i'd also like to report that he smiled (ok, it was prolly just gas, but whatever, i got a picture of him) and almost rolled over. he's very advanced. and he has dimples, which means that he's a little bit like me. i like that. his 'cita says that he looks like me when he cries. she should know, since i did nothing but cry until i was 9 monts old. at any rate, will and his parents are doing very well. i will be boring you to death with more pictures soon.

i learned that it's best not to listen to dave matthews or ryan adams while pondering things about your love life, or lack thereof. same goes for the garden state soundtrack. i learned that when you feel like the universe is screwing you on the relationship deal, it's best to just pretend you don't feel that way, and plaster a smile on your face, and keep doing what you're doing, because the universe is a funny thing. so, i'm doing my thing, and saying my prayers to the baby jesus, and hoping this angsty feeling passes, or that something wonderful will come along and grow into something amazing.

i also learned that even though i'm 27 years old, i'd still rather talk to my mom about matters of the heart than just about any one else. she's a keeper, that one. and even though she can't fix any of the issues, she listens and offers her take on things, and even though things are exactly the same as when we started talking, i feel oddly better.

i learned that even after a two year hiatus, i can still make a mean marinara sauce.

i learned that three week olds make very odd noises, and baby gas smells just as bad as grown up gas does. wow.

i learned that i dislike houston and it's proclivity for municipalities and chambers of commerce more that i dislike dallas for that same reason. see, i can say nice things about dallas.


end of lessons, for today.

mil besos--rmg

not necessarily the news

ok, people. not to sound too much like joan rivers, but can we talk? seriously...i was just over at my grandparents' house printing out some lobby stuff, and chatting with them about thanksgiving plans, when i almost had a fit. a certain news agency that is almost constantly on at their house (no names, but i will tell you that at one time the pelt of this animal was used in couture clothing...until peta went on the kool-aide drinking war-path--but that's another rant) was covering a "major news development" complete with ultra-cool music and tight shots from local affiliates. it was a story about a plane with a wonky landing gear. a corporate jet with a wonky landing gear, not a major air-carrier, like last time. let me say that while i feel a measure of sympathy for people in air-planes with mechanical issues, i do not consider every incidence news worthy. more to the point, i feel like the only reason news agencies broadcast this kind of story is in the macabre hope that something goes wrong and they can get more gore and guts on their broadcast than the other guys, or at least get the guts and gore first. this is, to put it mildly, bullshit of the highest order.

in case anyone forgot, there are hard hitting news stories waiting to be picked up on a daily basis. and they aren't all about blood and guts, or which elementary school teacher banged and then married a student. the stories to be reported aren't all about politicians in washington screwing the rest of the country, one way or the other. the stories to be reported aren't all about little old ladies getting mugged by gang bangers. the stories aren't all about bigots, or zealots, or other run-of-the-mill crazies. there are stories about men and women who succeed in the face of insurmountable obstacles, dogs that help epileptic children, schools for at risk youth with 90% graduation statistics, start-up non-profits that change people's lives with everyday items and run on a shoe-string budget, schools in iraq that get opened and DON'T get firebombed, and the list goes on and on. but instead of those stories, we get more blood, more guts, more gore, more half-truths, more deciet, and less hope. and i think that's a travesty.

bobby kennedy said that he wanted not to see the world as it was and ask why, but to see the world as it could be and ask why not. i wish that those of us who dare to feel that way could have a venue of expressing that in the media. for instance, i wonder what it would be like if all the news media in america decided that on every wednesday, during their prime-time slots, they would focus on four incredible things that happened that day. do you think people would watch it? do you think that people would look forward to prime-time on wednesday nights? do you think the newscasters would look forward to bringing not just the news, but good news to their audience? or do you think that people would like it for about a month, and then get bored and call for a return to regular programming? i wonder. i wonder what it would do for media outlets that ambulance chase, dig for blackmailable info, exploit sources, and create drama. i wonder what it would do for a sense of esprit de corps and civitas that seem to be totally lacking in american society today.

i bet we would start to think of the news and newsmakers in a different light. i bet we would start seeing each other differently. i bet what we think of as being newsworthy would get turned on its head, such that when important, sobering things are reported, we would pay better attention to them, because we wouldn't be so numb to another plane crash, or bombing, or school shooting. maybe we could start looking at our neighbors as people who share our space, instead of people who maybe should be viewed with suspicion, because they look different than we do. maybe we could be vigilant about hope, vigilant about nuturing the potential that lies within us and our neighbors. maybe we wouldsee the world through different eyes, and get different results.

i'm not saying that everything on the news is bad, or that we have become a nation of humbugs. i'm just saying that i think we can do better. as for myself, i promise to do better, to try and find four things everyday that are special and good and amazing. and i will try to put them here.

today's four things:
1) a phone call from an old friend, who after two months, remembered my birthday
2) frozen cadbury eggs
3) stinky j's incredibly good mood, in spite of being 12 and moody most of the time
4) beauregard the dog is bouncing back from his arthritic drama this weekend


mil besos--rmg

oh wow, southpark strikes again

stinky j, my 12 year old cousin, dvr's all the episodes of southpark. this is a very good thing for our relationship. one, it gives us some common ground, and two, it gives me another reason not to tie him into a human knot on a daily basis. additionally, even though i'm 27 years old, my mother hates southpark, and doesn't like to let me watch it. i know, i know. some things never change.

ok, so this week's episode is PURE genius, which was totally lost on stinky j. the southpark guys (trey and matt) did what i have wanted to do for weeks-- they went after tom cruise. and it was brilliant. seriously, you should take five minutes to read the wikipedia entry on scientology. if that isn't enough lead you to spend untold hours tracking down info on the church of scientology, a) you just aren't trying hard enough, or b) you have a real job and no desire to read minutae about random religious philosophy. which is fine, just be prepared when i school your butt in trivial pursuit.

you have GOT to get your hands on this episode. it even made the cnn.com front page. freaking tom cruise with his annoying love proclamations (don't even get me started on his manic goofiness...talk about contrived, people), the way he chewed out matt lauer, and called brooke shields a drug addict, and proclaimed adderall a street drug. and then says he knows the "history" of psychology. yeah, sure ya do, tommy boy, sure ya do.

i mean, i get that not every kid with add or adhd needs drugs. and i get that it seems like every month, we discover a new mental issue. i get that. it frustrates me, sometimes. sometimes, i worry that maybe i have a freak mental issue based solely around being mostly, painfully, normal. however, that does not change the fact that mental illness is a real thing. behavior issues do exist, and sometimes need to be medicated. psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors are part of the glue that holds western society together. sure, some of them may be quacks, but they are the exception rather than the rule. we can all do with more talking, more feeling, more direction, and for some people, that is done in a therapy setting. and i have a real problem with someone who says that is not real, or that it's evil, or bad, or counter-productive to self-actualization.

as for the freak out on the opra show, i'd like to point out that it looks like tommy boy ate a great big box of crazy. and i don't mean the love kind. i mean the kind where you can either paint your whole apartment in three hours or shave off all your body hair a la bob geldof. i would shudder to think that THAT little display is what i have in store when i finally fall in love. love can make you do silly things, but getting all goo-goo in front of the entire tv viewing world is pushing the envelope. THAT little display is why some people think adderall is a good idea. THAT little freak out, coupled with his nasty remarks re: mental health have spurred me to boycott future tom cruise projects. i say future because i do adore top gun and a few good men. and born on the fourth of july. and far and away. but that's about it.

end of rant. peace out.

mil besos--rmg

mil besos--rmg

william michael graves--welcome to the world, darlingest boy. i promise to love you my whole life. i promise to listen to your adventures and misadventures with my full attention. i promise to be your friend and take you to the zoo. i promise to get you hopped up on sugar and then take you home to your mom and dad. i promise to remember you birthday, and always send you something random. i promise to think about you everyday, and be grateful to God that i know you. i promise to burn lots of gas coming to see you, and i promise i will never complain about the long drive. i promise i will never be too tired to tell you a story or sing you a song. i promise i will ask your mom and dad before i take you to the movies or let you try a new food or drive my car. i promise to make you watch the sun come up at least one time in our life together. i promise to take pictures of you covered in bluebonnets. i promise to burp you after i give you a bottle. i promise to tell you stories about your daddy when he was a little boy. i promise to get you out of jams, when i can help, and to give you inside info on crazy family members. i promise to hold you as much as i can without being a baby hog. mostly, i just promise to love you every day more than i love you today, better than i love you today. you are the newest in a long line of people i love. i promise to be generous with my love, to tell you how much i love you every time i see you.  

will, while a huge fan of the university of texas, is not a fan of his similac with iron formula. see evidence of both-- on his head, and on his lip. this is still the cutest spit up i have ever seen in my whole life. 

will's 'cita, upon his arrival. this was one happy grandma!