Friday, April 30, 2004

So, I took this test. Yes I was that bored. Posted results below because they are TOO FUNNY.

I am:

The Stiletto
Deliberate Brutal Sex Master (DBSMf)

† † Edgy. Physical. Devastating. You are The Stiletto, of all types, the most likely to be a dominatrix and the least likely to apologize.

† † Sex is your object, and you have a LOT of it. Doubtless, you've figured out how easy it is for a dominant, assertive woman to have as many and whichever partners as she chooses. You're in control, you know what you want, and you get it, right there. It's highly likely you have a nice body, and it's even more likely we're getting all turned on right now writing this.

Your exact opposite:
The Window Shopper: Random Gentle Love Dreamer

† † You're generally careful with your actions and words, but your test answers indicate you've hurt some people, drawn some blood. This means one of two things. Either you're calculating, and pain is just part of your game plan, or hurting the occasional guy is just the unfortunate, but natural, byproduct of your liberated sexual existence.

Our tendency is to believe the latter: you're willing to engage men on a basic sexual level, and clearly they're attracted to you. It's understandable that a few might get overly attached, and sometimes harshness is the only way for you to escape: you've got to cut your way out. After all, it's not emotional bondage you're looking for right now.

ALWAYS AVOID: The Slow Dancer, The Manchild
CONSIDER: The 5-Night Stand, The Bachelor

Hehe. It's fun. Take the test and lemme know what you're results are. I'm curious.

Booty Call


The mexican called me last night at 2:26.
Mexican, "Are you downtown?"
Me, "Uhh, no"
Mexican, "Everyone's downtown"
Me, "Uhhh, okay"
Me, "Just call me when you ge home"

I crawl back in bed to take a 10 min nap,but two minutes later, my phone rings again.
Mexican, "Can you help me?"
Me, "Whaddya need?"
Mexican, "Well, I'm on 6th & San Jacinto..." [pause]
Me, "Yeah, I'll come pick you up, I'll call in a minute."

Find some decently clean clothes from the floor (I'm worse than a guy sometimes), phone rings again. "Uh, I'm at 7th & San Jac"
Me, "I'm on my way"

As I'm looking for my car keys (always a feat to find in a rush), phone rings AGAIN. I answer it, "WHAT?"
Mexican, "Uhh, I'm at 8th & San Jac."
Me, "Okaaaaay"

I get in my car and the phone rings AGAIN!! Me, "WHAT NOW??"
Mexican, "I'm at 8th & San Jac. Just didn't want you to miss me. I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

By the time I found him, (he was in fact, hugging a light pole at 8th & San Jac), it was drizzling, and I was vastly annoyed. I was mean to him the car, and he was getting upset like a little girl. He gave me strange directions to his house (even though I know where he lives) and we unded up waaay East of I-35 in the ghetto. I was even more annoyed.

We get to his apartment, and I contemplate dropping him off and going home. But then I remember I'd been wanting to hook up with him for a long time. So I follow him upstairs. Usually, we are at each other like animals, but last night I made him work for it, hehe. And I must have worn him out early (that, or he was reallllly drunk) cause he fell asleep pretty early in the game. I snuck out.

Looking down at my legs, I could have used a shaved. Having surgery and not going out = not taking care of oneself. Haha, good thing he was drunk.

But yeah, he did make it worth my while.

Monday, April 26, 2004

What the F***?

I found two more pieces of candied corn in my purse today. Where is it coming from???

Sunday, April 25, 2004


This seems PAINFUL! Thank goodness I don't have a penis!!!

Another Weekend in Drunken Stupor

This is the first amazing weekend in a looong time. Kinda hard to go out, party, and get drunk when you're on crutches.

Last night, Farouche & I went downtown [drink at home before I headed out]. Met up with Panda, an old friend of mine. As soon as he started dancing, I told him needed to call 1-900-JOIN-A-BOY-BAND. [drink] I was drancing with Panda & Friends, I turned around to see Farouche making out with Buddha Boy from a few weeks ago. I pulled her away and shoo-ed him off. [drink] He is annoying and I don't think she would have done it if it hadn't been drinking.

We met a dude who looked like Mozart on Acid, who had a bruised eye. When I asked him what happened, he said a mime had socked him in the face. [drink] Mime boy & Farouche were talking to each other right behind my back and I turned around and caught them kissing. Wow, Farouche had a lucky night. [drink] The only thing I was makin' out with was my pizza later on that night.

We were talking to a witty dude from Seattle [shot: Sex with an Alligator] when I got shoved from behind really hard. I turned around, of course, & shoved back. [drink] Three guys were yelling at each other and shoving each other, so I stepped in the middle of them to try to get them to stop. I had their attention and was ready to implement my plan (which involved us doing shots naked-- that would get guys to stop fighting) but dumbass Seattle boy grabbed my arm and PULLED me away.. which Pissed. Me. Off. The fight broke out, tables turned over, drinks were sent flying [not mine], until the bouncers had the dudes on the ground, cowering and crying. Quite a sight to see. [drink]

Post-partied at Mr. Humane's house [drink].

Today, Farouche & I had dim sum lunch [no drink] and spent waaay too much money shopping.

Oh, and can I say that now that I have seen the final Lord of the Rings (twice), I still have the hots for most of the leading men in that movie. What is it about me and guys who can A), wield weapons, B) kill, kill, kill, and C) well, is there a need for C? (NB- I do not like Orlando Bloom in any other movie, just in LoR).

Time to write conclusion of thesis. Here is what my prof suggested I write about, "think about yourself and what you mean when you say that you've changed. You are very good at looking outward, observing what you experience, and describing it. But I think you should openly ask (and try to answer) some deeper questions: why did you travel alone? why did you go where you went? what dangers did you seek and confront (whether physical or psychic)? what did you learn (not only about exotic places but about yourself)? how are you different now from what you were at the beginning? what to you intend to do next? why? That sort of thing -- more of a personal voice, less of a travelogue recorded by a camera-like observer. Does that make sense?"

Mmmm, yeah... but where to start.

This sucks. It's 3:53pm, and I think it's time for a [drink]...

Saturday, April 24, 2004

How Many Drunk Girls Does it Take to ...

Last night, Farouche, Red, & I decide to have a quiet night, so we head to 4th street, to Fado. There always seems to be trouble at Fado since the crowd is older and, as a general rule, the guys can afford to buy us drinks (compared to the broke-ass college kids on 6th).

We get our drinks and head to the patio for our quiet night- not quiet for long. Ran into a group of British firefighters who are in TX for special task force training (learning about structure fires because they are expecting a hit like we had 9/11). Compared to London, Ausitn is really cheap. So they started buying us anything we wanted. I was trying to be hospitable, so I wanted our Brits to sample all of our American shots-- they were laughing at the funny names: Sex With an Alligator, Irish Car Bomb, Buttery Nipples, etc. So any shot with a funny name...well, naturally we did one. This results in us getting pretty toasty, and Red getting slammed!

At some point, I was yelling "GIIIIMP" to a dude on crutches. [His friend came and talked to me and bought me a drink]. Then, I was charging toll for guys to pass my way. [Which resulted in me & Farouche getting $20 stuck down our shirts and more rounds of free drinks]. One of the Brits told me that I was the best dressed Texan he'd seen- I told him I cheated, I wasn't all Texan, and the clothes (and me) came from Italy. "That explains it," he replied.

Towards the end of the evening, Farouche & I were going strong, still double fisting, but Red wanted to go home. Just as she was trying to get us to go home, Farouche- the dear- spotted my rugby boy. I walked by him twice looking for him, and he didn't recognize me. Said I looked really hot. I told him it was because Farouche did my make up and hair (without her-- well, let's just say that I don't own a brush). The rugby boys loved Farouche, so while I was flirting away, she was sandwhiched between two of them. Literally, like a scene from Night at the Roxy. Red had to leave, so I was cockblocked dammit.

I hadn't peed ALL NIGHT LONG, so on the way home, I make Farouch pull over and i peed on the side of the road. Oh, well.

Post-partied at Mr. Humane's house, got home 'roud 5.

Not bad for a gimp.

Friday, April 23, 2004

Ex-Boyfriends... always a problem...

My ex emails me today, "Here's a heads up for you. My sister might be contacting you soon. She is going to be in Europe for this summer and wants to know if you're going to be around."

"A heads up"?!?!?!? Mmmmmmm....

(FYI, for those of you that don't know, I grew up in Italy, and my mother and co live there).

So... what? Ex's Little Sis is going to email me to see if I'm in Rome? I won't be... so, then what? There is no way I'm asking my mother if Ex's Little Sister can stay at her house. Yeah right.

So, the emails will go like this:

Ex's Little Sis, "Hey, F. Am backpacking across Europe this summer. Will you be in Rome?"

Me, "No, I'm sorry. I won't. Bummer. Have a good time, though."

She'll email something back, & I'll ignore it.

Why do people think they can hit me up this way? People I don't really know. If say (Thailand, Keg, Farouche, Linds, Phil, etc) wanted a place to crash in Rome-- hey, no problem, done deal! And if they had a little sister who wanted a place to crash, I'd think about it, but probably no problem at all. [my mother has a thing about tacky American kids who invade her house and wear shorts and flip flops and stumble around drunk].

This is reason 213 section A of "Why I Don't Believe in Boyfriends."

I am the biggest bitch ever. I should want to help everyone, unconditionally.


Thursday, April 22, 2004

Things I shouldn't have done that I actually did today:

(not in order of "badness" level, just random)

1- Flirt with an anonymous married man from a blog, namely Cheating Spouse X Blog.

The flirting went as follows, from the comments section of one of his entries:

hey cheatsp, stumbled upon your blog, and read it all. i haven't ever cheated on a significant other -- yet. I am not adverse to it, mind you. But i think that if I caught my hypothetical husband cheating on me, I'd shoot him (I'm Texan, and I own guns). No where deadly, of course, but somewhere painful...

Am enjoying reading your blog, keep it up!
Thanks, F.

Well...nothing hotter than a chick with a long as it is pointed at the other guy.

Given your Texan roots, F., I am sure your the one to teach the CS proper form in "pulling the trigger." I cant wait
How did you know? I hold the gun & I like to be in charge... grew up in Italy, so I have that Italian temper. Mix that with the Texan bit and the guns... well, am not really sure what you get.

Either way, enjoy reading your blog, so go out and cheat!

Italian temper and Texan attitude. Cant get any more flavor than that...

Thanks again for your comments.
If you're in Texas, I'll buy you a mojito*...
* He had mentioned in a previous blog how much he loved mojitos.
Italian background, Texan attitude and a Cuban cocktail...and I didnt think it could get better. Sign me up...


2- Flirt with a kid. He's not exactly a kid, but he can't drink legally. Don't have the IM conversation, but I sent him that kama sutra link and made fun of him going to "dinner" when he had to run. He, he.

[In an IM convesation with Keg:
keg: omg
keg: get off the internet
keg: you are flirting with underage boy and married man]

3- Go to Pekiti Tirsia Kali, aka, a Filipino Stick & Knife fighting class FIVE days after knee surgery, but I LOVED it. Loved the fact that there eight guys in the class with big sticks, and I was the only girl. I loved it even better when they sparred and one got beat in the face and bled. Yes, I have bloodlust. And yes, I will keep going to Kali. My next Dr appoitment for the knee is on Wednesay, which means I can catch Mondays' class before my Dr KILLS me! Also, the intimidating thing about Kali class is that most of the guys that I worked out with are my instructors in my kickboxing class. Kinda strange being their "peer" of sorts.

4- Eat cookies for dinner after working out.No explanation needed there.

5- Go shopping. Did I really need all five of those shirts, a new brush, and a new swimsuit? Hmmm

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Planning in Advance

I know what all y'all are getting for Christmas next year!!!

Today: Good or Bad

Today is a good day because:

1- I found a piece of candied corn in my purse. Am not really sure where it came from, but it tasted good nonetheless.

2- I manged to sleep past 6 am for the first time in weeks, since my knee injury.

3- I turned in my thesis rough draft into my advisor, who said it was perfect; he didn't even correct a comma. Today, I turned in a copy to my second reader.

4- I'm reading 'Angela's Ashes' for the third time, and lovin' it.

5- I'm gonna get some this weekend, and the anticipation alone makes today a good day.

6- My bloody bandages wrapped around my leg get to come off tomorrow. Yippee!

7- Because my kickboxing instructor (and the whole class) sent me a Get Well Card (it's where I hurt my knee), and it makes me happy to see it. Plus, today I'm learning Kali, a martial art that I can practice from sitting down (so I won't strain my knee).

8- Oh, and because I'm sure that somewhere there is a squirrel humping a turtle, and that makes me happy.

9- Additionally, Keg sent me this site, which is already giving me lustful thoughts. But am not sure how the Curving Knot would work, and the Stag position makes little sense to me, but hey! who am I to criticize a centuries-old art? Anyways, this site made me happy. Will bone up (hehe) on material in hopes of an interesting weekend.

Today is bad because:

1- Pap smears. 'Nuff said.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

New Tires and pple are weird

Woke up this morning, incisions giving me a bit of trouble. mmm... oh well.

Tire is flat. Call AAA, they inflate. I go to a service station, "Ma'am you need new tires, the steel is poking through." It was indeed. Drive to NTB. Tell the dude I need to front tires, then I call my dad and let Dude talk to my Dad. I can hear my dad talking to Dude, "No French tires!!" LOL.

New Tires and Alignment set me back less than $300, lots less than Keg spent on hers!

The Dude at the NTB was funny. He refs wrestling matches, freaky ones. Last week, he refed a match between Lizard Man and Leopard Man. Both FREAKS that are tatooed from head to toe. They should keep blogs, wow, talk about interesting. (Freaks).

While I'm waiting in the lounge, reading Angela's Ashes (great book!) and watching VH1, "The Fab Life of Pam Anderson," other NTB dude kept walking in mumbling about his hang over, "Mah gurl left me, mah dog bit me, what can go wrong now?"

Last night, for the first night in weeks, I had relatively little knee pain, so i fell asleep like a baby.... to be awakened by a drunken call. Wishing it was a booty call (which I was in no state to take thanks to my bloody bandaged knee), I was disappointed to find out it was only a very drunken keg. Actually, glad she called. Always good to hear the other half of the world is out partyin' it up!

Monday, April 19, 2004

My Brain?

When I logged into Blogger, I noticed a slogan, "Blogger: your brain on the web."

God, I hope not!! More like lack thereof.

Right now, in bed, on Vicodin (not cause I'm in pain, but taking it just to piss my father off --behind his back mind you-- b/c he wanted me to throw away all my unused vicodin pills. 30 of 'em. Yeah right. I have a whooooole bottle. Keepin' that shit just in case), I do solemnly swear to get into trouble this weekend. Major trouble. I can take my bandages off on Thursday, so Thursday night I am placing a much-needed booty call. Maybe South of the Border, maybe into Yankee Land. Usual dilemma. But somethin' is gonna happen.

Oh, and check this blog out, Cheating Spouse.

i'm boring

I am bored. Bum knee, dont have to go to work this week=me being bored. So I read some of my old blog entries, DAMN I've been boring lately. VEeeery boring. And I apoligize.

Now that I'm back on my feet again, hopefully I'll start getting into trouble... we can only hope...

Saturday, April 17, 2004

Interesting day for a cripple

Last night, Ireland came over and shot the shit with me. My dad cooked dinner, and my brother brought ice cream and cokes. We were set. Had a great time knitting together and catching up.

Today, I accompanied my father to Paris... Paris, Texas, that is. He bought a ranch out there and he wanted me to see it. So I sat in the car, drugged up on Vicodin, and slept. The ranch is beautiful. Green, green, green. The Red River is the far side of the border (right up against Oklahoma).

For lunch-- The Catfish King. Yum!

Then-- the day's hardest challenge. Cleaning myself. Am not allowed to take bandages off for a week. The bandage starts at my ankle and ends around my upper thigh. I cannot get this thing wet. So I keep my leg poking out of the bathtub to bathe myself and wash my hair. What a feat. And the phone rang in the middle of all this. And, of course, I had to get up and see who it was (thankfully, I did, cause it was my brother wanting to know what takeout Chinese I wanted. Side note- living in third world countries has taught me to not be grossed out by puke, cause in China & India... maaaan, I was puking all the time! So yesterday, my dad baked some cornbread. He put cheese, and corn, and hatch chilies it it. It smelled so so so good! So I asked for a piece. I promptly puked up the one bite I ate. I settled onto the couch again, and tried another bite. Puked that up too, oops. Then I tried a third bite. That one didn't stay down either. The cornbread beat me. So I sent my dad to the store for Sprite and Jello, the two things I know I could keep down in those circumstances). So back to my bath... my hair wasn't rinsing off properly in the bathtub water-- just made everything soapier. So, drained the water, and ran my head directly under the spigot. Needless to bother you with more details of my exciting life. Shower is taken. I am clean (yippee). Am trying to return to Austin on Sunday. We'll see how that goes tomorrow.

Friday, April 16, 2004


I'm aliiiiiive.

Surgery went well. I can finally straighten my knee out the whole way.

A bit loopy and drugged up...

Thursday, April 15, 2004

The Po-Po

I was already in a shitty mood as I was leaving Austin today (missing boat parties, lake parties, house parties, rugby parties, etc) and when I was pulled over, it only made my day worse. I knew I was going over 81 mph.

Cop: You know what I pulled you over for?
Me: Uhh, probably speeding.
Cop: Yeah, I clocked you at 81 (in a 65). Drivers license and insurance, please.
Me-- hand him my license (cracked and falling apart-- praying he didn't know why it's so ruined)... look for insurance, look for insurance, pray that I have it... finally find it.
Cop: This is expired by three months. Please tell me you have insurance.
Me: I do, I do (I know I do, it's the ONE thing my dad still pay for, and he's anal about these things).
Cop: You still live on TG Street?
Me: Yes, sir.
Cop: You a student?
Me: Yessir.
Cop: Yeah, only a student would live on TG Street (WTF? What did he mean by that?!?) When did you get your last ticket?
Me: Actually, officer, I can't remember (what he doesn't have to know is that I have a stack of warnings).
Cop: Wow. Good for you.
We went through that whole, "where are you going and why routine, bla bla."
Cop's radio comes on.
Cop: Weeeell, since you're a student, I know you can't afford this, so I'm going to let you go. I have to run to a wreck anyway.


I called my dad-- who gets tickets all the time. His one comment, "F, life really isn't this way."

For ME it IS!!

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

One More Rant

Speaking of things I've lost... dammit, now that I can't find that earring, I'm thinking about all the things I've lost in my life (lots), but recently... my favorite leopard thong underwear. DAMMIT. When I snuck out of the Mexican's house in the middle of the night I couldn't find them, then when I asked him about them, he acted like I was making shit up, that he couldn't find them. DAMMIT! I want them BACK.

Also-- 'member that fucking HUGE pearl earring that I lost to the gods of good sex last summer? Well, I want my sacrifce back. The Gods did not reward me. I am TIRED of loosing earrings. Period. I've changed my mind: the good sex (er... great sex) was NOT worth it, neither is the funny story. I WANNT MY EARRINGS BACK!

Thank god I can't misplace my Prada breifcase.



I lost a gold earring today. An expenisve gold earring. An expensive gold earring from Italy.

I called the Dr's office, called Central Mkt, called the florest, looked in my car, at work, in my house, and I even went back to campus and retraced my steps (a feat in the gimpy state I'm in, lemme tell ya). No where to be found.

SO SAD! :(

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Oh. My. God.

Easter bunny whipped at church service

One step behind

I should have created this blog. Wow.

Crutch Free or Not?

This past weekend, I took my crutches with me when I went to Connecticut because I thought I'd have an easier time at the airport if I was considered a gimp. I was right (which I usually am :)). Got to cut through lines, be driven around the airport in a car, use the restriced elevators, board the plane first, sit up front, and often people even carried my stuff. Joy, oh joy. I think I might invest in a pair on crutches to have with me whenever I travel. The only problem is that I don't use/own/believe in backpacks so whatever I carried kept on falling off my shoulder and hitting me in the chest and was generally a pain in the ass.

The downside of the crutches is that EVERYONE HAS AN INJURY story and they want to share it with you. Like I GIVE a shit! Everyone has had knee surgery, ankle surgery, broken leg issues, pins in their fingers, and one dude even sold tools to doctors for knee surgery. Ahhhh! It was a never ending discussion, in which I had to participate. After a while, I started making up fanstastical situations on how I hurt my knee: I resuced a baby from a burning building and fell and hurt it on my way down the stairs; bowling tournament; hiking glaciers in Patagonia last week I slipped, oops; having wild sex, I hit it against the wall and popped the meniscus out; bird watching- fell out of a tree... and lots more, some even worse to believe. But people ate them up. I was selling crazy, and people were buyin'.

Other than that, CT was great. A bit cold for my taste, and the people are snobby, but it was nice. The women are DECKED OUT- between their Hermes bags worth $10K, their 4 Carat diamonds and their clothes, each outfit I saw must have been worth at last $40-50K. Ridiculous. And the high school kids were worse, shopping for graduation outfits (worth over $3K) at Ralph Lauren that they were going to use once and throw away. I didn't see single shitty car, not even something in the mid-range was anywere to be seen. Only Beemers, MB's, Jag's, etc (not that I am complaining, I got to drive the Beemer around all weekend-- crusing speed: 105 mph. I was praying to get pulled over so that I could use my "stupid TX girl routine" that I had all worked out).

Back in Austin for a couple of days, till Thursday afternoon- at which point, joy oh joy, I'm going BACK to exciting Fort Worth for my stupid knee surgery on Friday. Hopefully I'll be able to drive back on Saturday, but I doubt it. I wanna get the fuck out of FtW so I'll hurry back.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

Interesting (or not) conversation

NB: if you are grossed out by girls talking about gross shit (no pun intended) then do NOT NOT NOT read below.

Chick 1: oh man...that sushi is doing a number on my digestive tract
Chick 2: ME TOO
1: i'm glad we left the bar cause I started to feel it then
1: was something in the sushi a diuretic?
2: yeah, i've alreday hit the shitter, too!!!
1: haha
1: same here
1: just got back
2: aren't we gross
1: ehh
2: i just might post this conversataion on my blog
1: whatever everyone craps
1: hahaa
1: that would be hilarious
2: i know
2: us and our crap talk
1: well...gotta talk about something
1: might as well be about something everyone knows a little something about

How nasty are we, on a scale from 1-10? And if you wanna know who the mystery chick is, just ask!!!

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

No skiing

If I decide to have ACL surgery this summer, the ski trip is off. The one thing I was looking foward to... oh well. Keg, you still wanna go to Central America? How long you wanna go for? What about Brazil? I have relatives there that can hook us up...

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

April 16th.

For those of you I haven't told yet, here are my MRI results. Pretty grim.

ACL-- torn. Initially they thought it was 100% severed, but no, the bastard is hanging on by a thread (literally). My knee is so loose that the dr was amazed that I had been walking on it for the past 6 months (and even more so that I had been skiing and kickboxing on it, too).

Medial Meniscus-- ?? Where is it? It wasn't in the MRI. It has popped out of joint. That's why I can't straighten my knee. The Dr wants to go in and fix my ACL, but he can't operate until I can fully extend my knee, which I can't do because the meniscus is in the way, blocking my knee extension. I have to pop my meniscus back in to joint. WTF???? Talk about PAIN!! I have been trying to straighten my knee all day, to no avail.

Surgery scheduled for Friday, April 16th. In a WEEK. The Dr said he's gonna pop the meniscus back in for me (unless I can do it before then) and "clean up me knee." CLEAN UP MY KNEE?!?. My knee isn't a fucking kitchen!!!! Arg! And I have to be back on my feet for school on the following Tuesday. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT.

Conclusion. After this first "minor" surgery (why do they call it minor? is any surgery "minor???) I have to work on my knee's mobility, and when it's back to 100%, they're gonna go BACK in and fix my ACL. A much less "minor" surgery. Life is gonna be one fucking party for me in the next few months.

On a lighter note, at least I got my honors cords today, even though I skipped the boring ceremony. Being on crutches does have its advantages.

Friday, April 02, 2004

Out of the house for the first time in a week

Had a lovely yesterday at Hula Hut with Broken Neck Boy, his old girlfriend, and her friend. It was strange. Me & Broken neck boy sat on one side of the table talking about all the scandals I've caused in New Mexico and about our common friends, while the 30-something people sat on the other side talking about their 50th high school reunion (hehe). The Girlfriend hated me because I told Broken Neck Boy that I could never seriously be with a guy unless he could ski or snowboard WELL, and by that I mean better or as good as me. I couldn't respect a guy that couldn't. Period. And Broken Neck Boy agreed with me, he said he could never be with a girl who couldn't ski well. The Girlfriend then gave me an evil glare (I've seen her ski- not so hot, not so hot, at all!). I just kept sucking down my piÒa colada. Yum!

After lunch, tried to nap, but the whole world decided to call me. Made an appointment for an MRI in Fort Worth for Monday morning. Ugh.

Party time: Spain got to town. We headed to the Tejas house for Bob Pease Party: white clothes, gin & tonics, croquet, and crawfish boil. After eating my weight in crawfish, Red, Farouche, and I headed downtown. I got lots of free sympathy drinks (yeah, me).

Got home, and tried to sleep, but people kept on calling me --till past 3. Last night was my first night not on Vicodin, so I needed sleep. Oh well, I'll sleep when I'm dead, I guess.

From the Gimp's Bed

First off, Boy with a broken neck is in Austin. He called me last night. He's here seeing a girl. Whatever. Hehe. I am his "hot chocolate." (see the above url for info about that).

Also, yesterday Farouche, the best friend ever, drove my gimp ass to happy hour at The Ditch. Met up with a couple of other girls, and when I informed them I wasn't drinking, the look of disappointment on their face upset me. So I helped them down two pitchers of margaritas. Yum!

Lemme tell ya, though. Me, drunk on crutches with a veeery injured knee= not a good idea!

Then we had an impromptu party at Farouche's. Broken neck boy and his girl came over, too, as well as Farouche's little sister and her friends. Full house!

Then click here to create your very own Pimp Name.

My favorites for me so far:

Ice Master F Sweetness
Macktastic F. Sneed
White Chocolate F. Rockefeller
Fadeproof F Smooth
Funk Master F Wicked

And best of all is Tricktickler F. Sneed

Post your best Pimp Names in my comments!

Thursday, April 01, 2004

Too Much Bounce

The worst part about my knee problems is not that I have to use crutches (although that sucks), it's not that I can't drive my own ass around, nor that I can't drink booze while I'm on vicodin. The worst part is that I have a wear a sports bra anywhere I go! As many of you know, I don't like wearing bras, so most of the time, I don't. But since now I am constantly hopping on one foot and hobbling around, my boobs have started to hurt. Ugh! Hence the sports bra. What also sucks is that I look like I'm on drugs: black bags under my eyes, blooshot eyes, and lots of groaning when I move my knee the wrong way.

The good thing from all this: it's been nice to see all my friends come through for me. From offering to shower me (which I managed to do alone yesterday, yipee!) to driving my gimp ass around for drugs, food, and ice cream. Y'all rock!

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