yellow

Now that I know I'm moving, I can't WAIT to get out of Wilmore. And I'm not even particulatly fond of where I'm moving, either, for reasons that mostly revolve around never ever ever wanting to see an ex-boyfriend who calles Hattiesburg his hometown. Somehow, I always manage to run into him when the odds are majorly stacked against it. For example, the last time I saw him, I was working a job fair on a campus of 18,000 people, and he just happened to come in through the door closest to me.

I was watching "S_X in the City" last night (the clean version on TBS, that's why I took out the "E" in "sex", because they take out all the dirty stuff, so I feel I shouldn't undermine their efforts). Miranda hid from an ex when she saw him on the street.

I can't say I wouldn't do the same. Does this make me a coward?

My colors are Blush and Bashful...I have chose two shades of pink, one is much deeper that the other.

(You need to read this quote with every other word in emphasis to understand how it truly sounds. "My colors are blush and Bashful...etc.")

The title of this blog is a quote from the movie I watched tonight, Steel Magnolias. To many of you, the quote is recognizable. I've seen the movie more times than I can count, but tonight, for the first time in a long time, I actually got a little teary at the end. And I watched it with two people who'd never seen it before (something I can't imagine), so seeing them tear up did it to me, too.

I was almost creamed by a couple of pillows, though. I tend to say the lines along with the actors. I can't help it, there are so many good ones. Some of my favorites:
"Mama! This nail polish is dryin' way to dark! It looks like a stuck pig bled all over my hands!
"Boys! Don't cover your sister's car with condoms! It's tacky!"
"I needed a job in the worst way, and I didn't know if you'd hire someone who may or may not be married to someone who might be a dangerous criminal."
"And at the end they'll be a little piece of immortality with Jackson's good looks and my sense of style."
"The Mayor's wife got hit on the head with a baseball. It was fabulous"
"I don't trust anyone who does their own hair."
"All gay men have track lightin'. All gay men are named Mark, Rick, or Steve."
"Don't think you're going to get me to one of your churches with the Bible Beaters. They'll probably make me eat a live chicken." "Not on your first visit!"

The list goes on.

My colors are Blush and Bashful...I have chose two shades of pink, one is much deeper that the other.

I'll open my mouth, but only if you promise not to poke me in the tooth with the sharp object that causes me much pain.

I spent the morning at the cute dentist's office. (it's the dentist that's cute, not the office, btw.) I have an infection in my sinus cavity that is causing several teeth and my whole right jaw to ache terribly. He gave me antibiotics that should clear it up. However, if I don't start to feel better soon, that means that it's not an infection that's causing me pain, but a deeper problem. Something about a fractured tooth was mentioned, but I can't, for the life of me, figure out how one can break a tooth and not realize it at the time. He numbed up the whole area and told me to come back in a week.

He murmurs, "I'm sorry" every time I flinch. I'm at the point where I don't want him to say "I'm sorry" anymore, I just want him to be done with it. I know he's sorry, he doesn't have to keep repeating it.

On a brighter, less tooth-related note, I went to see "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" with my roommate last night. fabulous. Cried the whole last third of the movie. One of those good, almost hiccupping cries, but I couldn't really let go because Kelly would have given me one of those looks. Those looks are the kind i get when I accidentaly identify a Beatles song as Simon and Garfunkel.

Then we went to Jo-Beth and bough the next two books in the series. Kelly kept wandering around and mumbling "I need to buy something adult, I need to buy something adult."

Creepin' into VA

I went to Abingdon, Virginia this weekend to visit a dear college friend, Rhonda, and her husband, Brent. We rode the Virginia Creeper trail, catching a shuttle up to the top of the mountain and riding 18 miles down. We saw "Singin' in the Rain" at the famous Barter Theater, where Kevin Spacey got his start. We tried to go to church, but I put the kibosh on it when I realized we were thirty minutes late. So we went to lunch early, instead.

Looked at lots of wedding pictures and college pictures, which brounght back a lot of good memories.

And we talked about why it is that some single people retain their married friends and other don't. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, too, since John got married, and I had a revelation hit me last night. But I'm still working on the best way to articulate it, so you'll have to wait.

S-E-X

I guess you have to spell it, even when the book you're buying is actually about CHASTITY.
That's NOT HAVING SEX, people.
Sheesh, all you who only look at the big words on the cover. I don't know what to do wit' ya.
I asked the local Cokesbury to hold their one copy of Lauren WInner's new book for me, because I had a $25 gift certificate, and I'm damn well going to use it, especially after all the money they've charged me for school books, and then won't buy back. Walked in, and found everyone in the store peering over one guy's shoulder as he read it. I said, "I think you're holding that for me." and all I got was a blank look. I guess he couldn't get past the big word on the cover.

Anyway, I got it safely home, though I sheepishly admit that I turned it over while it waited in the car, because I was parked in the college parking lot, and my Kerry sticker alone gets people coming up to me and asking, "Do you know Jesus?"

If you haven't read any of Lauren's stuff (I feel I'm on a first name basis with her, since I read her blog, now.) come over and borrow from me. She's one of those authors that I buy multiple copies of, so I can pass them out to friends.

Plus, she's going to be in Berea at the end of July, and I'm trying my best to get over there and look like an episcopal youth so I can get into the lecture.

Check it out...

My friend Michael has a beautiful post up on his blog about the movie "Garden State' and the way we fell spiritual or emotional pain. His blog is Cathedral Days.

My lap bar seems to be malfunctioning...

I spent Saturday at Paramount Kings Island with friends. We were single-minded; going to ride roller coasters, not spending any more money than was absolutely necessary. We cound't avoid one meal in the park, though, and all had to promise to give them our first-born children in exchange for liquid and bad pizza.

We had a fantastic time, though. Rode about 8 different coasters, some of them twice. I'm paying the price today, though; I feel like I lifted weights for hours and hours, and my voice has disappeared from all the screaming.

Though I ride them willingly, I have issues with coasters. They mainly center around these morbid fantasies I begin to conjure up as soon as I fasten my harness or pull in the lap bar. What if my lap bar doesn't catch properly and comes loose? What if the coaster gets stuck halfway around the loop-the-loop? What if that kid in front of me vomits and it flies back and hits me in the face?
I think a lot of these fantasies stem from the fact that my parents would never let me or my brother ride the Ferris Wheel at the annual Memphis State Fair, and told us horror stories about it coming loose, collapsing into itself, or getting stuck and stranding people at the top for hours and hours. I'm sure they meant well, but hearing these stories usually made me see it as a giant wheel of death istead of just a carnival ride.

Obviously, I've gotten over it. Kinda.

someone give that girl a Xanax.

frenzy
zeal
craze
obsession
glee
enthusiasm
bated breath
keenness

All these words describe the current state of my roommate, who has cooked up a scheme to go to London the first week in July to see the Live 8 festival. One day, filled with U2, Keane, Coldplay, etc.

She is in such a state I thought she was going to implode when she was telling me about it yesterday (and trying to convince me to go with her.)

Never take your eyes off the road...

I'm STILL shvitzing over last week's Season Finale of Alias. I spend time when I should be working browsing through the fan forum sites, trying to figure out what J.J. Abrams is going to do with the show next season. I don't want Michael Vartan to leave, but I could deal with it, as long as they leave cute Weiss on the show.

Friends and I watched as a group, holding our breaths as Vaughn said he wasn't who we all thought he was, and then screamed when the (a little bit predictable) car crash happened. Remember that scene in Meet Joe Black where Brad Pitt gets creamed by the car? And no one ever expects it and everyone who sees it for the first time loses their breath? This was almost that good.