Lame

Sums up my feeling about this whole, rotten city.

Mary, Cheer the fuck up.
WE LOVE LIFE!

Hey DC! I'm headed your way! Let the lovefest commence. I want to see you and you and you and you and you and you and you and all of you.

Twenty-four hours of driving

Ryan: "Did you blog your trip?"
Me: "Maybe if I'd had computer access while it was all happening. As of now, I wouldn't know where to begin. It will probably come out in spurts once the dust settles."

Dear Readers,

I have returned from Hurricane Rita evacuations and Austin City Limits 2005. Let's just say it was a really long weekend. I took a few pictures, but not many, available on flickr. I met some great people, became intimately acquainted with highway 290, rode out the 105 degree heat all weekend, and am very happy to return to normality. Well, as normal as things get around here.

Yours,
Mary

Huff and puff and...

Build your houses out of bricks, children, and board up the windows and stock up on water a week in advance.

Lots of big bad wolves around this year.

And for fck's sake: if ever offered the opportunity to move away from your family and community in what has been labelled one of the most highly-educated cities in the country where the policy and government jobs live in exchange for a hot and stinky swampland that doesn't have any place to put its water--JUST SAY NO.

Hotshots

On first glance, I thought the business card said, "Insured, uninformed drivers."

And my mind instantly spiraled to all the secret, deviant packages that people might need to transport in plain brown packaging. International secrets. Orphan trafficking. Sure, we could TELL YOU what's in the package, but then we'd have to kill you.

Really, it just says "uniformed."

Far less exciting.

Ambitious Goal

Ok, here's my ACL lineup, contingent of course on the people I'm going with:

Friday:
Kasabian
Mates of State
Lucinda Williams
Spoon
Lyle Lovett
Black Crowes

Saturday:
Tegan and Sarah
Built to Spill
Death Cab for Cutie
Walkmen
Jets
Bloc Party
Oasis

Sunday:
M83
The Doves (sorry Rilo Kiley...)
Arcade Fire
Decemberists
Wilco/Franz Ferdinand (could go either way)
Tortoise
Coldplay

Recommended by reliable sources:
Eisley
Kaiser Chiefs
Robert Randolph
Mike Doughty

Yes, I know it's early, but a girl needs something to look forward to. I open the floor for your comments.

GO HOME.

What does it mean when you've been working all day like a horse and it's 7pm and you're STILL NOT DONE?

Change your systems; change your life.

And you thought the 9-5 life would be breezy...

Aw, hell.

Every year, my amazing father asks for nothing more on his birthday than a card in the mail. That is all. Not once have I been able to manage a timely card, but I swore that this year would be different; I would act like an adult and stay on top of the mail. I am SO FIRED!

Anyway. Happy birthday dad. Check your inbox.

Love.

Short

Today felt like a week.
We're awfully busy at work, lately.
Here's why.
Plus, like eight million other things.
I can SEE again!
Interesting tidbit:
Me: "Doc, can you tell from the machines if my eyes actually change, or if I'm just being fickle? Because sometimes you ask me to choose 'A' or 'B' and it's a total coin toss."
Doc: "It really only matters when I'm consulting someone for Lasik. Then we do the test five or six different times to check for consistency."

Dear friends, I need a dose of you this weekend.
We can play with my new keychain breathalizer.
And go to museums, and swim in pools, and that other thing.. and.. and...
Mary, go to bed.