Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Life in Yankee Land

Had a whirlwind of a weekend in CT, lunch parties (at a house with a 13 car garage), dinner parties, wedding parties, and boat parties. I already have a date (with the son of the dude that owns the amazing cars), a bake-off (to see who is the better cook), and invites to Cape Cod, Nantucket, & Boston, as well as to more parties.

This is the way life should be.

Oh, and work is fun, too.

Sunday, June 27, 2004

Goodbye, Texas

Friday evening, Farouche drove up from Austin, and Red drove over from Dallas, so that we could all meet up in Cowntown. They picked me up, we used my new handicap sticker, and we went for Blue Margaritas. Yum! After staying past our welcome at the Restaurant, we headed back to my shack. All three of us piled on my bed and chilled. Talked, laughed... and when it was getting late, they left.

Saturday, I got up at 4:30 to catch a 7am flight. I got to fly first class the whole way because I'm a cripple and I can't make it to the back of the plane with the cattle.

Also, I was carted around the airport in a wheelchair. So, when I got off the plane, there I was in a wheen chair, with 4 old ladies, also in wheelchairs. I felt old.

In CT, now.

Staying with my dad's girlfriend up here who is trying to marry me off... ugh.

Thursday, June 24, 2004


My uncle (I really wanted to show y'all his picture. He looks like he just stepped off a Western Set: 10 gallon cowboy hat, bandana, jeans tucked into his knee-high cowboy boots. He's really a Texan-- born & raised on a ranch, and still rides his horse every day)... anyway, my uncle and his wife (she is #3 of Who's Who of Women shooters of the 20th cent) got me a pistol for my graduation gift. I am totally stoked. It's a replica of the old Colt, used back in the wars with the Indians. Ironically, it was called "The Peacemaker." Here is a picture, but mine has a longer barrel, 7 inch.

I've already gotten the CT & NY Alcohol, Tabacco & Firearms Bureau and they are mailing me me info to get my permit. Who-hooo!

Just call me Oakley.

And don't break into my house in the middle of the night. I might not have a semi-automatic, but it only takes one shot...

...and I don't miss.

Single Cell

So for all of you that know who Single Cell is... (and for those of you that don't read here, towards the bottom. He is called "Single Cell" because he is so stupid he only has one brain cell)...

...anyways, Farouche saw Single Cell at the gym yesterday.


He *actually* is real person.

And yes, he is buff.

And hot...

...and so very, very stupid.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

George Jones

Last night, Friday, I went to see George Jones in concert at the amazing Bass Hall. Many of you probably don't even know who George Jones is, but ask your parents (or probably your grandparents) and they'll know who is he is. (Read his bio here, it's actually quite amazing.) He's a contempory of Johnny Cash, etc. I grew up listening to his kind of music, so I was stoked when my dad got me tickets. I knew ALL the songs. (I know I'm a nerd).

After the concert, I got a text message from Scotland, Hey sexy. You're missing a good time in Santa Fe. Stop missing me for 5 minutes.

What a cutie.

Thursday, June 17, 2004


Today, after a session with my (hot) physical therapist, Red came over to visit. She picked me up, and decided we should have Margaritas. We went to happy hour and after two extra-large 'ritas & some appetizers, I was good and drunk... joy oh joy. Needed to walk our buzz off so I drug Kate to Victoria's Secret (I bought a new bra) then to Express. I managed to not kill myself, but from now will try to refrain from drinking when on crutches.

After happy hour, Red drove me home and I passed out. My dad came home and thought I was sick. Hehe, it'll be our little secret.

On a sadder note, my (hot) physical therapist went to Alaska today to run a marathon. Will only see him once before I leave town. Saddness.

I will walk again, sans crutches!

It's getting close to three am and since I can't sleep, at might as well be productive since tomorrow I'll be busy being felt up by my hot physical therapist.

This morning (Wed) I went to see my knee doctor and he told me I am doing well. I finally figured out what all the cuts and holes on my knee and leg were for. And I finally figured out just exactly what he did to me (opened up knee, drilled holes in various bones and drilled hole through knee cap, passed new ligament through holes, screwed it in (screws will eventually dissolve-- how cool is that?) then closed me back up. I will never look at a power drill the same way again). He told me my knee is doing well and I'm ahead of schedule. Yippee. Then I went straight to the physical therapist because I have to get on a schedule to get my flabby leg muscles back on track, before I move to The City next Sat. And yes, I was wearing a skirt. But thankfully, I had remembered to throw on some underwear (full converage, not thongs, don't know where I found them). The (hot) physical therapist made sure I had something on under my skirt before he started me on my excersises. But since I flashed the whole world my undies, I was put into a small room all alone. Saddness. I was told to wear shorts when I go back tomorrow. Haha. I just might "forget" again.

My only concern was that my doc told me not to walk without crutches for another two weeks. I was apalled. I have little pain and am ready to GO! The (hot) physical therapist told me that my new ligament doesn't have its own blood supply yet so it doesn't have nerves, and therefore doesn't register pain. So, while simply walking, or making a wrong move, I could snap the new piece and not even FEEL it. I might hear a pop (ew!) but not feel it. The crutches look good, really good.

Oh, and my dad is taking me to get a pedicure & manicure tomorrow, and he's taking me by the mall so I can go shopping at Victoria's Secret sale. He's the best.

And Ireland, thanks for coming over tonight. Really enjoyed the company!

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Only I would...

Only I would go to Physical Therapy in a SKIRT.


PS. I think this list could probably be extended, hehe

Does he have me pegged?

Background: Scotland told me that he thinks all women are heartless bitches, and I was arguing that I am not... [I've only known him for a couple of months].

F: if you think I am heartless just because i am a girl, well, that's
a fallacy
Scotland: actually here's how I think of you
Scotland: i think you've got a tough shell
Scotland: not sure why, not sure what the history is
Scotland: but I think you're actually a very geniune person
Scotland: and probably quite emotional inside, but you protect your
weakness well
Scotland: so you're definitely not heartless
Scotland: but you have to crack the shell first
Scotland: that about right?

What does the jury think?

I am on a roll here

Back to my superstar self... Cap was so nice to say some lovely things about me on his blog, such as, he likes my blog (or me?) because I am, "Well traveled and with a razor wit." He also told me to, "Shine on you crazy diamond!"

Read the post here, about me being his Blog Muse.

I've plugged Cap's blog before, but he's changed it since then, so check it out again. Harrison's Clock by Cap

Cap, keep reading and send some of your crew my way!

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Rock Bottom

You know you've reached Rock Bottom when:

1. You're up in time for Saturday Morning Cartoons.

2. You actually watch them.

Friday, June 11, 2004


I am a superstaaaahh (will not put my hands in my arm pits and smell them because I haven't showered in two days... too difficult in my condition).

Check out Jeff's Blog, especially this post because it's dedicated to me!

Update: added 11:38pm, Just got another spotlight mention of my blog, this time on my devious Machiavellian flirting. Check it out here.

The funeral

Since I am stuck in bed, I am watching Reagan's Funeral. And it's interesting.

But I've decided that I am a sick person: I am watching Reagan's funeral, and all I can think is how hot all the military guys look in their sharp uniforms... All those big guns... I need help.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

I love text messages

Just got a text message from a boy,

Did I mention that I love you? But I have to find other girls since you're not here.

Growing up in Italy, I'm used to text messaging, and I love it, but few of my friends use it to its full advantage. Scotland does, thank goodness ;)

Oh, and I wrote back,

I guess you're confusing love with lust!

Animal Husbandry

My dad, talking to a Friend, "F will be working with a pychiatrist. Good thing she got that degree in Animal Husbandry!" (chuckle, chuckle)

Friend, "That's allright, men are dogs anyway!"

Hehe, my dad has some funny friends.

Diaries of a Gimp

Sitting on the sofa bed, thinking about the past ten days since my knee surgery...

...joined Netflix
...watched Season 1,2 & 3 of The Sopranos, and Season 4 & 5 of Sex & the City
...taken one sponge bath, and two "showers" with the aid of a water pitcher (because I still can't get my knee wet)
...trying to trace down an inmate in Huntsville prison for my father so that he (my dad) can get a pair of boots made by an inmate. More info here.
...taken off my bloody Ace bandage once, only see inches and inches of incisions and blood
...took the the morphine pump out of my own leg (disturbing)
...gimping around on crutches because can't put any weight on my leg for a long time
...still wearing the hospital gown (that I refused to take off after the surgery)-- and I have washed it
...taken lots of drugs
...went to see my doctor at his home, while he was eating his breakfast, because I was worried about something oozing out of my leg (yeah, to family friends)
...left the house one other time to eat dinner, but it exhausted me, so I haven't left again
...lost a crutch brother called me from the bookstore to ask if I wanted any magazines, and he came back with Redbook (hehe), Italian Vogue, and the UK version of Cosmo (no wonder he bitched that the mags cost him 25$)
...always being hungry. How is it possible that I've not moved my gimp ass from the bed, and yet I am always famished? My dad said it's because my body needs the energy to fix itself. I say, meh. from my law firm in Austin, calls from my buddies in Italy,
...and naughty text messages from boys in Texas...

I'm spent. Time for a nap...

Saturday, June 05, 2004

Giving a helping hand

Now that I'll be working for psychiatrist who specializes, among other things, in eating disorers, I can help a certain friend get over her binge & purge problems. Maybe I can send her some sample meds, for free, to help her with her bulimia... Hearing her run the water in the bathroom while she pukes really gets old after a while...

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Where have all my friends gone?

Here I am, alone & in bed, with a morphine pump attached to my knee, puking ever half hour, and not a single one of my friends had called to see if I am alive.

The only people who have called me are my dad's girlfriend, and a friend here in Fort Worth whom I have not spoken to in 3 months. And I got one email, from Scotland.

Thanks folks.

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