Okay, so this post is long past due and I realize the retirement happened months ago, but the time has come to officially end the blog and say goodbye. I think the Maud Blog had a nice life. I think it lived a glorious year. In fact, there were some copy-cats. In fact, they're still around and if fact, still entertaining us.
I had my say.
I had my time.
It was good. Now it's someone elses turn. You can switch the channel. Try trent. I think you'll like him. (trent.blogspot.com)
Take care ya'll!
"Every step I take reminds me of just how it used to be.
How can I forget the past when there is always something there to remind me?"
When I was younger I would hear this song and think about all the good times with my cousins during summer. I would reminisce about the little chickens and ducks we'd name (Always "Batman") and how we'd walk to catechism on Wednesdays with Cari. After high school, I would think about Senior Circle and passing notes in B-Hall. I'd think about the State Newspaper Championships and taking 2nd place. I'd remember being a Vikette and performing for the Cheer and Drill.
If I wrote a play about college, I'd guess at least one act would take place at The BREW. I'd remember my 22nd birthday and how I fed Meagan popcorn all night. And the time I fell asleep on one of the tables. I'd remember the 1st ever Brew-ha-ha when me and Leslee got to throw t-shirts from the roof. One recruitment I was a Gamma Chi and had to disaffiliate, we all went to the Brew together. In ASNMSU we'd go to Bennigans for SAMBA, but eventually end up back at the BREw. The long-islands were strong but good. The beer was cold and Dave Matthews was always blaring.
The first time me and Les used a fake ID was the brew. The first time Les almost got arrested for using a fake was at the Brew. I shared many-a-pitchers with friends, gave many dirty looks to enemies and waiting countless hours to use the bathroom. When I graduated and started working, I went down for the weekend and ran into my work mentor there. Even she, during her one weekend, was introduced to the glorious site of girls in flip-flops, sweatpants and friendly bartenders. Scott must have poured me at least 500 beers.
During the summer, Amy and I would walk home to Casa Bandera. We tried to walk through the Whataburger a few times. (Usually didn't work though) I went back for homecoming last weekend and something wasn't the same. There were no ex-girlfriends to fight with. No slimy old guys sitting at the bar. No walking home. No drunken mayhem. It almost felt like the Brew died and took our lively hood too. It was a sad, sad day.
Write your own life...
So I do this thing sometimes where I make up stories for peoples lives. It started with my own life when I was really young. I've always lived in this fantasy-type land where my head's in a bubble. As a kid I'd lay in bed pretending it was a boat dock. I was sunbathing and reading "Babysitters Club." Then my mom would yell at me to turn off the light and go to sleep. As I got older, Judy Blume was my story-teller. I'd sit outside my house on Noval Pl. in the back yard. We had nothing but a dirt yard with a shed in the corner, but somehow it became the scenes of Margaret's life. I too asked God if he was there....
So now as an adult I still live life through characters. When Shopacholic tied the knot, I too was there in NY and the UK. Something else I've always done, is create stories for other people. If you ask me, everyone has a story. Sometimes I don't have the guts to ask. sometimes I don't have time. Sometimes I just like my own version.
Last weekend, I flew this atrocious flight to a friends wedding. In the end, it was well worth it, but delay after delay, turbulence and the chatty girls next to my I was pissy and tired. Across the isle, was this liberal-looking 20-something who was obviously European? I was just positive he'd eventually talk to someone. The flight attendant maybe. I sat there waiting. I was just positive, you see, that he would have an accent. After a layover in Denver (also delayed) we loaded back into the United plane and listened (okay I really didn't listen) to the safety features of the airline. So anyhow, by this time, I've also decided that Mr. Euro is some sort of athlete who's training in the US. He's about 6'4, 250 maybe. He has this crazy spiky hair and wearing shorts with sneakers and no socks. I'm also sure he's catching a flight in Dallas that will eventually connect in Chicago before taking off to Ramstein Germany where he will take a train to Munich, then a bus to his final destination... a small town in Germany where his family will be waiting. He's sad, because while in the US he was dating this cute American girl who cheered for his hockey team... (oh, wait... that's another story... never mind... delete that part)... Finally he will get to see his mom and brothers.
So about half-way to dallas, Mr. Euro turns and explains he's feeling a bit ill. Apparently he was drinking Crown on rocks during that layover and never ate. Turns out he was from Oregon and worked as a used car salesman at CarMax. His girlfriend was an ad-rep for a company in Albuquerque and he was visiting Dallas for a bachelor party. After my quick snap to reality our plane landed, my luggage was lost and my subsequent 2 hours of crying would result in my being late to pick up a rental car. It was a quick trip out of dreamland and back to reality.
But the wedding was great. Shopping was so-so. And downtown was fun. There were no trips to the front of the line. No VIP tables waiting for me at Pete's Piano bar. No upgrades to first class. But I did spend time with friends and learn about this random non-European and his friends in Dallas. It was fun. Not perfect, but pretty close in Reality Land.
It's been about a week since I blogged, and my lack of electronic communication has left me feeling alone and neglected. Most likely, my loyal readers are feeling the same way. Alas, I'm back. Now, I'm not promising anything. Unfortunatly, my job says I've gotta work or get fired, but I'm really focusing on less chit-chat, more work which will hopefully equal more blogging.
I've come to realize that I'm real good. REAL GOOD at electronic communication. You know the drill... email, instant messanger, myspace and evites but when it comes to my cellphone, I get an F. Really... an F... like the kind my teacher friend gives her 4th graders when they don't complete an assignment. In fact, I'm a bit like those 4th graders. Maybe even the ones who have to repeat a grade. In terms of cellphones, I'm deficient. You see, for some reason, I can not manage to return phone calls. Even texts are difficult, which doesn't make much sense because with predictive text (BTW: what does t9 stand for? If you can answer that I'll buy you a beer at happy hour and maybe even your own basket of salsas @ si senor)
So, dearly beloved, in all fairness, there's no real excuse for my lack of phone calls. There's no real excuse for my lack of blogging. I've had plently to say. But for what ever reason, just failed to speak my mind. Imagine that?!
For those who feel left out, here's my life update: I'm still chasing stolen cars. The lastest is this moron who's company has a corporate account. He got fired for steeling money, so has apparently decided to hide our car. Good job asshole. Maybe your jobless self can get hired to clean the roads in one of those orange jumpsuits that the other jailbirds wear. You'll be wearing UTEP colors so maybe you can sing the fight song or something. I moved into a new house with Evelyn. Sarah's living on the couch for now. Austin loves that. Last night he was so excited that he peed on her foot. Great job pooch! He's also been learning great things with his cousins, Bently Tibbs, Chloe and Brady (Meagan's children) those tricks include growling and lifting his leg to pee. Most recently he's taken to Evelyn's porch posts, which did not make her happy. But don't fret, Marv saved the day by giving us amonia to spray so he avoids those posts.
What else... spent some time in Cruces, ate too much, drank to much and took lots of naps... What's new?
My taste for tunes
Entertainment Weekly is conducting a survey
to determine the favorite song of 2006. Why do I not know but 5 of them. I think it must be one of two things: It's a joke. I'm uninformed of pop culture. This scares me. Do you remember being a teenager? Like a real teenager, maybe 14 or 16? I do. And I also remember thinking how uncool my mom was. She didn't know any of the popular songs like, "Summertime," by Will Smith, or "Sadness (pt 1)" or anything by Sublime.
Are we becoming our parents? Ask yourself. How many of the songs below do you know. How many would you say are the best of 2006? I know my answer. Zero.
Christina Aguilera, 'Ain't No Other Man'
Beyonce, 'Deja Vu'
Nelly Furtado and Timbaland, 'Promiscuous'
Justin Timberlake, 'SexyBack'
Nick Lachey, 'What's Left of Me'
Jessica Simpson, 'A Public Affair'
Paris Hilton, 'Stars Are Blind'
Pussycat Dolls, 'Buttons'
Fergie, 'London Bridge'
Yung Joc, 'It's Goin' Downn'
Lil Jon, 'Snap Yo Fingers'
Taylor Hicks, 'Do I Make You Proud'
Katharine McPhee, 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'
Gnarls Barkley, 'Crazy'
Corinne Bailey Rae, 'Put Your Records On'
Shakira, 'Hips Don't Lie'
Thought we all could benefit from learning a bit more about our favorite mammal. This link
is courtesy of my co-worker who also knew sloth's were real. (Unlike myself who thought it was a mystical creature like a unicorn or gheko)Scientific classification of a Sloth
Did you know there is a whole website, called sloth-world
, devoted to our slow moving friends? Also noteable, sloths live in trees.
t"There's a story on msnbc
today about Katie Holm's parents boycotting her wedding to Tom Cruise. There are several reasons, but mainly because they're Catholic and disapprove of her marrying in the Scientology Chruch. It made me think about my parents and who'd they'd object to me marrying. Number one on my list was Matt Flick.
If you don't know.... here's the descript.... he was my college, dancer boyfriend who was bipolar, wore mascara and ran away with his best friend's sister (who was married) I never heard from him until a year later when he called to say he'd moved to Dallas and was attending AA.
I guess we all have a Tom Cruise.