Ode to Weinerschnitzel.

Oh, how I love thee, dear Weinerschnitzel.

Your dogs dipped in batter are such a joy--
and those fun sized minis are an extra delight.

You serve Pepsi instead of Coke
Then top it off with Tastee-Freeze shakes.

Your chili cheese fries are delicious;
You even wrap then in a tortilla when I feel adventurous.

But most impressively, you defy customs and the law.
"You want a receipt? You were supposed to ask at the speaker,
Didn't you know?"

Oh, how I love thee, dear Weinerschnitzel.
And how you deny me the right to a receipt.

If I was someone else, would this all fall apart?

I've worked my butt off for years to try to make some things work.

I make myself available. I leave my phone on 24/7. It's always charged enough. "Don't hesitate to call...no matter the time!" I'm rarely unplugged.

I give...to the point where I can't give any more. I've drained my resources.

I've drained my energy.

I've drained my heart.

I try. I rationalize for other people. They don't mean to. Such and such got in the way.

You know what, though? I'm tired of making excuses that aren't mine to make.

There is no reason to hide behind all that.

I'm ready for a change.

Lukewarm Sentiment.

I'm tired of lukewarm friendships.

You know the kind.

The ones that are only there when one person wants them to be. The ones that are only there when certain other people aren't in the picture.

The ones where one person is used...abused, even.

I'm tired of getting walked all over.

I'm tired of pouring out my heart for nothing in return.

I'm tired of the pendulum swing.

I am probably just as guilty as others...and I'm tired of that too.

Rock Band: Making People Think They Can Play Instruments Since 2007

Last night, I spent 5 hours playing Rock Band at a friend's house. It was my first time playing this game in any form. I've managed to make it this far without ever even touching a Guitar Hero guitar.

We couldn't get anyone to "sing," so we all took turns between the drums and guitar. By the end of the night, we were on our way to becoming "easy" rock stars.

It is a fun game. It's more involved than Guitar Hero, so more people can amuse themselves at the same time instead of sitting around waiting for someone to hand over the "guitar."

Harmonix did a good job at creating a game that involves several people not trying to kill each other.

But more accurately, they did a marvelous job in convincing people that they should pursue music.

Just because you can match red to red does not make you a drummer.

Just because you can reach your pinky down that "holy" orange button does not make you a guitarist.

Congratulations, Harmonix, on instilling false hope into a new generation looking for their own version of Project Mayhem.

My brother is a Muppet.

I'm convinced of it.

In other news, here are some random facts about me:

1. I am missing a tooth. Partly as a result, I have had braces twice. OY.

2. My teeth are also incredibly small--so much so that I am supposed to be contemplating having gum surgery.

3. Enough with the teeth talk. I eat tic tacs in even numbers. Please don't eat odd numbers in front of me.

4. Ears creep me out.

5. Sometimes I think I was raised in the wrong part of the country (Boston or the South seem more fitting), but I can't really imagine myself anywhere but California right now.

6. My dog is one of the best things in my world. There is no denying that she is a member of our family. She shares characteristics with all of us.

7. I can't really picture myself doing anything but being in school for the rest of my life.

Cleaning out my closet.

Today I started cleaning my room. It's one of those things that headed into summer, I was oh-so-excited to do. Then once summer got here and the Southern California heat set into my brick house, I convinced myself it was far too hot to attempt such things.

However, last week, I noticed something: a pesky spider web hanging between the chains on my ceiling fan. Uh oh.

To top it all off, one of my good friends from college is coming to visit my hometown in two days. It all adds up to a desperate need to clean.

It started well. I got more done in an hour than I typically do in the first hour of such cleaning. But I have reached a fork in the road.

I don't know what to do with all my crap now.

I have a trash bag. I have a donation bag. I have another trash bag. But, it just doesn't seem to be enough. I have a good sized room...and not enough space for all of this.

See, one of the things I love about living on campus is that it doesn't allow me to clutter very much (I am a genetically predisposed pack-rat). The problem is...what doesn't clutter at school clutters at home.

This brings me to my predicament. I could clean out my closet...get rid of all of the things I don't need anymore. But the time limit is kind of a deterrent. I could spend all day on it tomorrow (minus the hour or so getting my braces off!), but other parts of the house could use a wipe down too.

All of this got me to thinking...what about my metaphorical closet? I'm sure that needs some cleaning out too. All of this clutter is getting dangerous. But in all of my time off, I don't feel like I have the time to deal with it.

But the question is, when will I?

It looks like I'm just gonna have to suck it up and start that deep cleaning.

Just a little something.

This is something I wrote about a year and a half ago. It's one of my favorites.





This afternoon, I stopped by my orthodontist office to pay the bill. As I was pulling in, a woman and her daughter followed me closely, and the mother honked, which I originally thought was directed towards me, but I wasn't really worried about it.

As I got out of my car, and walked toward the entrance, I noticed that this girl insisted on being at least 25 feet ahead of her mother at all times. She insisted on having a hateful demeanor, and looked at me with the thought of "What the **** are you doing here?"

I looked at her mom, and my heart began to ache. I was walking closer to this woman than her own daughter was. At no time, whether my mom and I are on good or bad graces, do I walk that far away from her. I always walk right beside my mom, not one step ahead nor behind.

Of course, one shouldn't expect this girl to hold the door open for either one of us. She walked right in there, closing the door behind her. At this point, I was only 3 feet behind her, and her mom 3 feet behind me. Naturally, I held the door open for this woman.

She smiled, and then apologized to me if I thought that she was honking at me. She was honking at the squirrel in the road. I said I understood and that I wasn't worried about it at all. I told her to have a good afternoon, and went on my way. A smile and a kind word was all it took.

But I still wish that I would have said more. I wanted to apologize:

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the times your daughter has treated you like this. I'm sorry for every time she has denied that you're her mother. I'm sorry for every time she has insisted that she is better than you. I'm sorry for every time she has taken for granted all of the things you provide for her on a daily basis. I'm sorry for every time she has yelled at you simply because you asked how her day was. I'm sorry for all of the things she does behind your back. I'm sorry for everything your daughter does to make you feel inadequate. One day, she'll realize what she did. She'll realize that she was truly blessed to have you as her mother. Until then, stay strong."

But most of all, I am sorry for the things I listed above that I have done. At no time has my mom ever really been a bad mother. She's given me her all and made me her world. And still, in my adolescent ignorance, I insist that I know better than she does.

This girl really gave me perspective today. Thank you, heartless pre-teen.

Blog Rules and Boston.

Alright, so it has been almost 3 months now since I decided to make this thing out of boredom. One would think that when the summer started, I would have come back to it. Apparently I'm not one to do sensible things. I have broken one of the primary blog rules already, and for this, I am sorry. I think this time I'll give it a real shot.

Now it is time to share one of my favorite things in the world.



That's right, the Boston Red Sox.

A fun fact about me:
When I was about 4-6 years old, I had the infamous Boston accent. I had never been, and still have yet to go, to Boston, or anywhere on the east coast for that matter. But I seemed to know I would end up there one day, and eventually, it will happen.

About a year later, at 7, I read about the Curse of the Great Bambino for the first time. And so my longing for the Sox to win the Series began. My obsession has reached new heights in recent years, this year being the worst.

In fact, sometimes, I have to force myself away from the TV (when the games are actually on--it's not easy being a Boston fan on the west coast) to still have a social life.

I am blessed enough to have seen the Sox play ball three times. However, my ultimate dream is...to end up here:




Where is the one place you have dreamed of going?