The Pork Chop Fiasco

It's disheartening when you make someone pork chops, which you don't even like, and suddenly 3 extra people (uninvited) show up for dinner. They don't ask, they don't clear their plates and they ruin the evening - in particular because one is intoxicated and screaming, and the other two want to talk shop. So, I guess you should make something more delicious and quit whining next time.

Can a writer stop writing?

Too lazy?
Too boring?
Too dry for words the sounds nice, sad, sorry; wishing I had that perfect phrase to make the world a different place.
Alas, it's me and the dictionary and we're creating arbitrary alphabetical order, not beauty. Not meaning. Just words without a heart to hold them in place.

I wish the kids I teach could just be the kids I think they are.
I wish they wouldn't do the kinds of horrific things to each other that make me ashamed of them.
I wish they didn't prove others right when they were dispicable.
I wish there was a way for them to see the way they disappoint the people cheering for them.
And I also kind of wish I could slap some of the and send them to their rooms without dinner.
I definitely should not have children, my heart would never recover from the pain of it.

sweet, sweet employment

Okay, so I'm still employed, still a Miss.
Can I admit I was secretly hoping to not have my contract extended so I could bum around Europe, play the jambe and write haikus?
On second thought, I get to continue hanging out with my 8's who, recently, have been talking about staging protests, writing letters, signing petitions. Oh to be a 13-year-old activist. Those were the days. I would miss them terribly if I had to go. I'm thrilled to stay, just always curious as Kim said. I like that. It makes me feel less like the word I usually think: fickle.

voila

Today at Starbucks (where I got a frequent coffee drinker freebie) I was approached by a dark haired stranger who inquired (en francais I might add) if was was francophone.
Non. I replied briefly, tongue suddenly dumb to the foreign language stuck on the roof of my mouth.

Oh, sorry, you looked French.

Ha! Brilliant. Resolution #1 is clearly, en effet, and working out for me. Vogue, I will remind you, means fashionable in French. Bien fais.

As far as the second resolution goes, I'm not sure I even know what I meant. What the hell does a Christian look like? I don't mean religious, I mean really, truly, at the heart level.

I need some work...my heart I mean. But will a stranger inquire (perhaps in tongues?) if I am a Christian while lovingly sipping my extra-hot-half-sweet-earl-grey-tea-misto? I'm not sure how to pose Christ-like. Is this heresy?

feliz neuvo anno

2008 hey?

wow-y.

What better way to ring in the new year than salsa dancing the night away? I feel it's indicative of good things to come - more dancing, more champagne, more Spanish.

In 3 weeks it's possible that I will be thrust back into the world of uncertain employment, which will lead to more waitressing, as my dream job comes to a murky pinnacle. Will it continue into the new year? Will I be, once again, getting rounds and rounds of overpriced drinks in my ugly black skirt and itchy nylons?

Who's to say.

I'm not going to panic. I am a girl of faith this year...uncertainty won't shake this resolve. There's a plan, even if it smells like steak and tastes like minimum wage.

So feliz neuvo anno, frohe Silverster, joyeux neuvelle anne....you know, happy new year. It will indeed be a lovely one - if for no other reason - it begins with health, happiness and a ticket (finally!) for my England!

Deadly.

New years resolutions?

1. Dress more vogue, more consistently glamorous.

2. Quit the hypocrisy and actually become a Christian who lives like a Christian. (so, I guess disregard the first resolve?)

3. Live with faith that adventure beckons.

4. Buy only fair trade coffee.