a letter to santa

you remind me that i'm lucky
with whatever challenges that come in and out of my small little world, with whatever spikes in stress or emotions that are born from it, with whatever washes of daze or spaciness that lurk just under the surface of my day-to-day, i am constantly reminded about how i have been so blessed with fabulous people in my life. for the girl who often seems so 'together', it is sometimes hard for me to be able to admit that i get lonely or overwhelmed or frustrated with things that seem, on the surface, too simple to even bother with emotion.
on almost a daily basis, i'm reminded that i have connections with people out there who would do anything in their power to let me not ever experience these things. and even though everyone realizes that there really is nothing in their power for it, the intended security means the world to me.

a little privacy, please
i love working at petco. really, i do. but it's just a little weird when you're in the bathroom, minding (doing?) your own business, and all of a sudden a big pair of puppy dog eyes are staring up at you.

literally: a puppy dog. with eyes.

why does that make me self-conscious?

whirlwind
despite the swift and sudden attack of a migraine right smack dab in the middle of the adventure (if i had to pick a place to vomit, the public restroom wouldn't be it, but, eh, what can you do?), my trip to sf was quite lovely, thank you. i've said it before and i stand by it: if sil was a boy, i'd marry her in a heartbeat. We poked about the city a bit, saw the inside of many a' bus, and all in all just hung out and talked and caught up and laughed and that's all we needed. i enjoyed the little peek of dental school life in the big city... complete with some freakshow trying to pawn off his dope on me on the bart-ride back to sfo. he was gettin' on a plane and all, and he thought maybe he couldn't take it with him. good guess, buddy.

i left my heart in san fransilvi


reunion! non-gay san fran boys had better watch out!

wha--? you're kidding.
Hi Britt. My name is Pat, a man for all outdoors, open skies, hanging out in the buff under the stars and making love. If you like a slow hand, an easy touch, and the tingle of soft, roving fingers, here's the man who can make your sleeping bag come alive. I want a fun-loving woman to share my love for the big country, Fishing trips, camping trips, and whatever else comes our way - be it mountain hiking or beach combing.
I'll put the spice back in your life, and you can put the icing on my cake.

on a happier note
it was a weekend of singing: on friday night, shama-lama and i had a lovely evening at java joe's with the very talented trio of saba, pete thurston, and my own personal music-man crush, mister j.turtle. as if that wasn't rockin' enough, some of the crew gathered on saturday night for just under 5 HOURS of karaoke. i have to admit, i love karaoke, but i'm not good at it, and i feel a little embarrassed when i get around people who can actually sing; i swear i'm not mocking you.

and that makes me feel weird
i had my last belly dancing class for this go 'round on saturday, and as i rolled into class a little late, i was pleasantly surprised to see 'Talia' (real name Laura) and not my normal instructor 'Velia' (real name unknown). Laura's an awesome dancer and an awesome instructor, though i didn't necessarily approve of our 8-minute shimmy workout. Ouch. At the end of the class, she let everyone know that Velia wouldn't be returning due to 'an emergency'. Now she could have left it there, but instead she went on to say that Velia's boyfriend was killed. As my heart instantly sent sympathy to Velia, my head instantly sent questions, including 1)he got killed (car accident i'm assuming) and she has to go into hiding?, and 2)wasn't she married?
Oddly enough, Talia/Laura answered these questions without me having to even ask: Her boyfriend, whom she saw on and off, was murdered. And that hit me like a rock, mostly because what do you say to someone in that situation? and why did T/L feel it OK to even share with total strangers who truly aren't invested enough to be privvy to those sort of intimate details. The entire episode just made me feel so strange...

yeah, i have that same "problem" too
as the new girl reached for a packet of lipton green tea, the bitter taste appeared in my mouth like a ghostly reminder of foreign lands once traveled. knowing that the quality of her steeping tea would most likely need help to achieve an imbibable potion, i casually asked her if she had ever tried cricket cola, the surprisingly refreshing fusion of cola and green tea. our effusive chatter magneted a third participant in discussing the myriad of ingredients one could use to spice up their everyday drab cola. i expressed my disdain for the recent trend in adding artificial citrus flavors to cola in a pre-packaged chemical shadow of true taste. in explaining my reluctance to partake in cola unless the unfettered pulp of a wrung out slice of lime or lemon was floating at the brim of my bubbling cola concoction, the new girl earnestly expressed her agreement:

"yeah, i know what you mean! i'm just being able to drink coke now without the rum in it."

for all those worried about my (lack of a) love life...

Hi britt,
Let's face it. You're sexy. You seem interesting. Let's talk. You've got a great way of expressing yourself. Your smile really drew me to you. I appreciate how cute and sweet you are.

From, genoveze

true story
i went dancing with nat last night, which is always a good time. And there we were, shakin' our groove thang to Usher's latest dance-hit "YEAH!" with the usually amusing tag of "take that and rewind it back / lil' john got the rhythm make ya booty go (clap)". suddenly, my right cheek was stinging, and there was a guy in front of me bending over for some pay-back. he's lucky i'm trained to "refrain from impetuous conduct" (ha!) because i was about to plant my pointy-toed shoe deep into his diesels.

especially when i got home and found a ginormous purplish hand-print bruise on my ass.

but at least...
so there's this guy. and a couple of weeks ago we made a plan. it was an easy on-the-fly 'where you at?' kind of plan. a 'call me when you get on the road and we'll meet up' plan. but for some reason, the plan didn't go through. with no explanation. no phone call. no 'sorry, but i... (ran outta gas/had to help my mom/fell into a ditch)'. for 3 weeks, nothing to that effect. and i figured he maybe was still outta gas/helping his mom/in the ditch, and would clarify his no-show. because that's just what's done when there are plans that don't go through.
and then i saw him; a brief but considerable interaction. and no 'sorry, i ran outta gas/had to help my mom/fell into a ditch.' nothing. and i feel weird about that. not angry. just confused. i was waiting. for something. maybe pertaining to a ditch.

but at least i'm having a fabulous hair day.

antici... pation
i keep logging into my electronic worlds (email, blog, etc) today as if i'm expecting something. i'm not, really, but i feel like i should be. like if i ping hotmail just one more time, my inbox will be fat full of news about...((?))

my dad told me this story yesterday about how, back in the day, if he was a little drunk, he could perform great waltzes and jumps in the ice rink (the man and his love of skating). we were talking about the self-confidence that seems to diminish as we get older, and he was relating about how easily he could talk himself out of those great leaps if he was sober. i am going through an epidemic of self-doubt, and wondering why lately i've deflated so much so fast. assimilating the fatherly advice into my own situation (at work, mostly, considering the landscape of responsiblity that i am suddenly lording over), i have decided i can either a) fake it, or b) spike my morning coffee with something other than cocoa and sweet'n'low.

it should go without saying that there were also non-work appropriate costumes...