10 February 2007


I am currently scanning my computer for viruses with Symantec. I normally use PC-cillin, and have been enamored with it. It does its job and stays out of my way, which is exactly what you want in a virus protection program, right? I hate it when programs are all, "I'm protecting your computer and you should know about it, because I'm doing my job well and I deserve some respect and admiration. I won't let you do your work until you acknowledge that I'm saving your ass every single day."

Anyway, I'm having to install and run Symantec for the class I'm taking (the link to the website I'm building for it is over on the right). I thought about asking the instructor if I could just skip that step and keep my PC-cillin going, but I decided to run Symantec anyway. If only to prove that PC-cillin's been kicking virus butt all this time.

The Symantec scan isn't pulling up anything so far. If it finds no viruses, I'm uninstalling that bitch and enabling PC-cillin again (sorry about the B word Mom).

Speaking of Mom, I was corrected last night. Concerning this post: my mother told me that growing up, baseball and basketball were a big part of her life. I had known about the baseball; she's told me about when she kept up with the Yankees. That's when they were the good guys, with players like Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. Apparently she also kept up with basketball, because that's when people like Wilt Chamberlain were playing. So this recent surge in basketball watching is nothing new to her. It's just new and wonderful to me.

I like finding things like that out about my parents. I guess it allows me to see more of myself in them than before.

Seventeen minutes in to the scan and nothing found. Looks like PC-cillin's sticking around and Symantec's getting kicked to the curb.

09 February 2007


It bothers me to no end when I see skinny people eating more than one pastry in one sitting. Because we all know they won't gain ONE ounce. I drink some water, and all of a sudden my jeans need to be two sizes bigger.

I imagine that at one time my metabolism did more than just take up space in my body. I'm sure it actually worked, and worked hard, since as a kid I was a decent size for a while. Then I discovered Cheetos. I don't remember when I started to gain weight, but by the time I got my braces and contacts, I was ready to lose some of that "baby fat." That was at the end of elementary school.

Through high school I kept the weight off, and I thought I was going to be one of the lucky many that didn't have to work out every single minute to keep my figure. Then college hit. And the infamous 15 pounds that all freshman seem to be required to gain hit me like a ton of bricks. Right in the thighs.

I haven't been able to shake it since. I've grown to not hate my body. Definitely not loving it, but at least I don't hate it like I used to. I work out as much as I can and I only have fries and extensive amounts of fried food every once in a while. I'm not losing any weight at this moment, but I think my muscle might be on its way to taking up more space than my fat.

Anyway, people with speedy metabolism intrigue and frustrate me at the same time. I'll never know what that feels like again, to eat whatever the hell I want and not gain weight. Then again, it might be better that I'm not able to eat lots of junk at once. I'll just stick with one donut every few months, thanks.

07 February 2007

Ooooohhh Yeahhhhhh!!!!

I've been breathless all morning. I got the official email from the official Astros saying that they're officially giving the email list recipients an early crack at buying OFFICIAL OPENING DAY TICKETS.

On April 2, I will be sitting in a seat at Minute Maid park with an overpriced beer in one hand and a jumbo hot dog in the other. And I will take lots of pictures and maybe even some videos. And I will probably shed a tear when thinking that Jeff won't be playing this game anymore.

It's become a small tradition, going to Opening Day. Two years ago I experienced my first opening day with some friends who happened to have an extra ticket. These boys thought of me when that ticket opened, and that still warms my heart. A year ago we carpooled from Austin to Houston, stopping for greasy food and occasionally singing along to classic rock and Ryan Adams. Another part of the group met us at Minute Maid, and our row was complete. It was great, especially because we got to see them uncover the 2005 National League Champions addition to the left field wall.

This year, I'm expecting a smaller group. I'm not bummed about this in the least, because I know that whenever I'm at a ballpark I feel incredible. It's an amazing feeling that just washes over me when I step into a park and can smell the dirt and grass. I just know that this year, this year's going to be great. And my Astros are going all the way.

06 February 2007

I am speechless

Emmitt, I love you.

By the by

I'm trying to figure out an easier way to archive my posts on the side. Currently, it's by dates only, and that's the default of this template. I don't know enough html to know how to do that, so if you have some advice I'd appreciate it.

I'd really prefer to have it set up so that people can click on what year they want, then what month, then what post. And I'd rather have the post names, not dates. If nothing else, I'd just like to have that; the post names instead of dates.

Any ideas? Would this be a ton of work?


Casey let me know how to do what I wanted to do. In order to do that though, I needed to "upgrade" my blog. Which means that I can't edit my template in html as I know it. Now I have to know how to do widgets, which we all know I won't learn. This is silly. I'm moving to Wordpress soon.

My mother

If you know me, you know how much of a momma's girl I am. Don't get me wrong; I love my father dearly, and wouldn't trade my life with him for the world. My mom, though, has always been my best friend, even when I called others that. Even when I didn't want to talk to anyone (we all know those years), I always wanted to have my mom around for when I felt vulnerable or sick or whatever. Nowadays I realize that I've grown into seeing her as someone who I can talk to about anything. And while she may not like everything I choose to talk about or do, she's always telling me that I should do what I want; whatever makes me happy (my father does too, I shouldn't leave him out of that one).

I'm setting up a story here, but to really make it awesome I need to tell you something else. Growing up, I went to church every Sunday. My mom plays piano for the choir, and when I was a kid she also co-directed the children's choir. I always thought my parents were God fearing, but later in life I learned that my dad actually went through a time of questioning. Which, of course, made me feel better because by that time I was already on my way to leaving religion. I vaguely spoke to my mom about this, but I never got the feeling that she questioned her beliefs. If she did, she never expressed it. So when my parents began NOT going to church every Sunday, I was surprised. But, then again, they've opened my eyes in recent years. First they were world travelers, then RV owners, then Airstream rebuilders and owners, and now, now they're Texas A&M basketball fans. My dad's an Aggie, which of course means that my mom's an Aggie. I grew up around Aggie football, which is where my love of the sport comes from, but there wasn't a lot of Aggie basketball happening in the house.

Cut to this past Saturday. My parents are watching A&M play Kansas. I believe that A&M was ranked #8 and Kansas #6, but don't quote me on that. Suffice it to say that A&M was a bit of an underdog. Apparently it was a really good game, coming down to the wire. My parents are, of course, freaking out, because all of a sudden they're Aggie basketball fans. My dad's pacing (that's where I got it from!), and my mom has her head down on the kitchen table. She's nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she thinks to herself (my MOM!) that if the Aggies win she'll go to church the next day. And they win. And she kept her word, even taking my dad along. These are people who used to get me up every Sunday morning. I think it's hilarious.

Meanwhile, my dear niece, the first baby I held that was related to me (that I can remember), doesn't know who Prince is. She apparently said something like, "Who was that guy in the halftime show?" I wanted to cry. Are kids that out of touch with real musicians these days? Or am I just getting old?