Okay, about the beard...

So I've been trying my hand at facial hair. I never really thought I'd be one to have the cool goatee or anything. But a few months ago, during a seemingly innocent chat with a co-worker, that changed.

"You should be like Jason from 'The Hills.'"

So said my friend Kacie when I asked her advice about women. Specifically, she told me to put product in my hair, and start growing some facial hair. At first, it started with the perma-five-o-clock-shadow. Then came the more modest growth. Finally, it turned into the "Grizzly Adams" look you see below.

I kinda dug it, it was a change of pace. But with friends of mine, it wasn't really well received. So I ended up shaving it over the weekend. Friday, I took it down to a goatee. Saturday, I shave the bottom half, leaving only a moustache. I saw how sketchy I looked, so off it came soon after. My mom saw me on Sunday and said, "THIS is my Easter present!" (My Easter basket must have gotten lost in the mail, but I remained silent.)

I wish I could be able to grow one of those long, straight beards. However, the scourge resting upon the top of my head (my curly hair) foils me again on my chin and face. So I guess I won't be Jason from "The Hills."

I can't say I'm too broken up about that...

In case you were wondering, I had a grand Easter.

Friends, family, brisket, babies, cheesecake and cascarones were the order of the day. I know I don't acknowledge this enough here (or offline either). But I love my family.

"You didn't think I'd spend 10 days in Texas without meeting you guys, did you?"

So began a post that set in motion another memorable weekend in Austin.

At about 3:45 pm on Friday, I left work in west San Antonio, thinking that I had enough time to get to downtown Austin to enjoy at least an hour of my first blog meetup. After surviving a 30 minute excursion from downtown to the SA city limits, I figured I was home free.

Unfortunately, a bad accident in San Marcos brought those thoughts to a screeching halt. It took me about an hour to travel all of three or four miles. All the while, I was texting my friend Stephanie (middle, in photo) about my progress...

"Stuck in San Marcos traffic, and I have to pee. I am NOT a happy camper right now..."

"An immigration van just passed me on the shoulder. Might explain the traffic jam."

"Huzzah! Moving at 25mph!"

Part of me was livid at the circumstances that would come between me and a party, but then I saw the sand and oil on the highway at the point of the accident. (Any cars involved were towed out of sight.) Then I had a reality check. (Okay, first I urinated, THEN I had a reality check.)

I was reminded that there are more important things than drinking at a hipster bar. I said a quick prayer after leaving the location of my pitstop, and gave $5 to a homeless woman on the corner of 35 and Riverside as a quickly hatched act of penance. At 7:10 pm, I made my way to the party. I was there only for a little while, but I did get to meet Ms. Whitney Matheson (right, in photo). She gave me a hug when I told her where I drove in from. Stephanie gave me a gin and tonic. I'll let you be the judge of what was better...

After the party, Stephanie and I headed to 6th for some surprisingly good Asian food, then set off to take in the music festival. We ended up at an industrial club called Elysium for Japan Nite. My thoughts about what I saw:

- Detroit 7 is not from Detroit, and they are not seven people. They do rock the house.

- 2 ukuleles + 1 mandolin + 1 fiddle + 1 upright bass + two Japanese girls with high voices + a sing-along of "Que Sera Sera" = AWESOME!

We left the club, and walked back down 6th to get our late-night pizza fix. A few minutes later, a familiar face got the same fix. A guy by the name of Perez Hilton. Him and a buddy got a slice and went on their merry way. A couple of sorority girls tried to get pictures/autographs/felt up, but he just smiled and went on his merry way. Soon after, so did we.

The next morning, Stephanie and I met up for breakfast in her barrio. She said she had work to catch up with, leaving me to explore the conference on my own. I ended up at a free party put on by the Guitar Hero III people (In case you were wondering, I suck at Guitar Hero III.), followed by a free show at Waterloo Park. I caught some stand-up from Janeane Garofolo (sp?), and I can draw one of two conclusions:

1. I'm not as liberal as I thought I was.
2. She's not as funny as I thought she was.

Soon after, I headed back to SA. And wouldn't you know it? My drive back was the usual 90 minute sprint.

Next year, I may just have to block out the week in order to REALLY get my hands dirty with music, film and "interactive."

Two nuggets of wisdom from my blogroll to share with you. One from Sandra, one from Raelyn.

Some food for thought (pardon the pun).

I hate being your friend.

Okay, I'm glad you decided to drive three hours to watch approximately 15 minutes of a basketball game with me. But driving another 90 minutes in the dead of night to visit your ex is something different. I'm not happy with my town becoming known as a way station for booty. (Oh, I'm sorry, all you two did was talk...)

You've got two exes trying to win you back. Congrats. But please stop telling me about it. You told me the ex you visited was jealous of me (something I find preposterous), but now I'm the one getting jealous.

No, I don't think we'd work as a couple. A person that wouldn't vote for a presidential candidate because his name sounds slightly Arabic isn't someone with whom I can hold a conversation. I just hate that you, along with the 79 other female friends of mine, can't see me as anything but a friend. (And people wonder why I drive so far for booty myself...)

Guess I just wanted to get this off my chest. I SO wanted to tell you this when you were here, but I decided to be a nice guy (again), and not add to the situation. Maybe you'll see this, maybe I'll actually say it to you. But I just needed to get it out in the open.

You may remember me telling you about a football movie that made me wonder how much of a Christian I was. Tuesday, a real-life football coach may have helped make me a better one. I share the details with you in the form of an e-mail chain between my friend Michelle and I.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Greg
Date: Nov 28, 2007 1:13 AM
Michelle-
Just wanted to say Thanks. "For what," you ask?

Thanks for believing in my prayer abilities.

You may remember me blogging about how I didn't think I did prayer well.

I just wanted to let you know that I spent the last few minutes praying for different people in my life, and it felt pretty good. I'm not saying I'm an expert yet, but I think it's a decent start.

I figured you might want to hear about that. Hope you and your leg are well.

Greg

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Michelle
Date: Nov 28, 2007 11:07 AM

Wow that's awesome! I'm glad you're sticking to it because I find that prayer can be this amazing experience between you and god. I know that during my whole knee thing, prayer was the one thing that I could do to get through this whole ordeal. Even though at times, I didn't appreciate or understand why this happened to me, prayer allowed me to get out my frustrations. I read somewhere that prayer is not just a one way road... it's not just you talking to God but prayer allows us to be open to being blessed by God, whether it's directly through us or a blessing through someone we've prayed for. Anyways, thanks for keeping me updated on this. Lord knows I'm not the best prayer, but I know it's just important to keep the lines of communication open. :-)

As for my knee, I'm definitely better. Physical therapy still kicks my butt. I'm just happy I can drive now. I'm now working towards walking without a crutch or without limping. Otherwise, the doctor seems really happy about my progress. So going back to prayer, I really see God's blessings during this whole ordeal. Even though God temporarily took away almost everything in my life (work, friends, independence), God really showed me what a great immediate family I have. My sister and parents have been amazing! Also, he has given me an appreciation of the little accomplishments in life. My knee will never bend the way it used to, but I'm happy that it can bend as much as it can now.

Anyways, sorry this letter is so long. You know that I ramble so I'll just stop here. Glad to hear that you're still seeking after God. Just know that he never asks us to be perfect but just to give it a try.

-Michelle

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Greg
Date: Nov 28, 2007 9:07 PM

Hey there.I'm glad my experience got you so jazzed. I'm not sure what caused it would be as celebratory, but I'd like to share it with you.

I ended up playing hooky yesterday and gave myself the day off work. During the morning, I ended up watching ESPN2. They have a show called Mike and Mike in the Morning that's also on the radio. During the show, they were talking about Sean Taylor, the football player who died from a gunshot wound. They had on a guy who played for Joe Gibbs, the current coach of the Redskins, the team Taylor played for. He told a story about having a one-on-one meeting with Coach Gibbs one morning. The coach pointed over to a whiteboard with a list of names of players who were suffering from injuries. The coach said that he would pray for each player by name every day.

Last night, as I was trying to get to sleep, that story came into my head, as well as the memory of my ex telling me she prayed for me after we saw "Bruce Almighty". (I mean she told me that after the movie, she didn't pray after the movie... just want to make sure I'm clear.) I figured I might as well try it. I prayed for a bunch of people. I prayed for the girl I've been dating, I prayed for my friends in my young adults' group. I prayed for Suzanne. I prayed for Sean Taylor's girlfriend and baby. I kept at it for a few minutes, before I got it in my head to tell you about it.

It was all kind of random, but it felt good. I don't know how to build on this, but I figure it's a good start. To be honest, I hadn't been praying (or going to church) much over the last couple of weeks. Now I'm worried about keeping this streak alive, you know?

I kind of worry that my prayers won't be heard, though. Would blessings really be poured out upon the friends I prayed for last night? Should I even worry about that?

Anyway, I think I'm rambling. Just wanted to give you more details. Take care.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Brown Boy,
Greg

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Michelle
Date: Nov 28, 2007 9:13 PM

Maybe it's silly of me to think this but I truly believe that God shows us things to encourage us to act. I think it's one way that God "speaks" to us. So that being said, I completely understand the urge to pray after watching something on T.V. Also, I truly believe that God hears every single prayer we lift up to him. You may not see/hear the answer right away or even the answer you were expecting, but I truly believe that he listens and responds on his time.

For example, I was watching this sermon once, by this fairly famous Dallas pastor (Bishop T.D. Jakes) who said that when you're praying for an answer to why life is going a certain way, sometimes the answer you will only get is: "I'm inconveniencing your life now, in order to bless you later." I wrote this down thinking that it was a nice thing to remember and actually I had lost it almost immediately after scribbling this note down. Anyways, I recently found it and what a blessing it is for me to read NOW because during these past 4-5 months, I've really struggled with why this all happened to me. As I mentioned before, I feel like during this time with my injured knee, God stripped me of everything that seemed important to my life. But even in the "desert place," God still blesses me. This note that I'd forgotten about actually reminded me that there's a purpose to this whole knee thing. And now that I'm at the end of my recovery, I understand in retrospect that my experience with this ordeal was done for a purpose that's just beginning to be realize. Ok so now I'm not sure if I'm making much sense anymore. So anyways, my point is that I think it's understandable (and what a blessing!!!) that this random event happened.

And you know, all you have to do is try to keep up with your prayers. The amazing thing about God is that you can never run out of chances. Even if you stop going to church or stop praying, I know from experience that God will always eventually pull you back. He'll drop reminders through sports stories or forgotten notes that he's there. And you have the choice to either respond or ignore him, but I think even if you ignore him, he'll just keep putting things in your head to remind you he's there.

So anyways, thanks for sharing. I think I really needed to be reminded too. Because I'll admit while I type all this out, it's been a while since I've regularly prayed and even longer since I've been to church. Be happy that you've been blessed with a church as it's now 4 (almost 5) years since I've moved to dallas, and I've yet to find a church home. I have a few that I like to visit regularly but not one that I feel like it's a good fit. Anyways, thanks again.

Michelle

Wanna learn about my breakthrough? Read the following open letter...



Dear Suzanne,



Hey there, stranger. Bet you didn't expect to see me last night, eh? Obviously, I went to your church to promote the lecture series I'm helping put together. I was a bit nervous about seeing you there, but my friend C told me that she hadn't seen you the last few times she's gone, so she told me I shouldn't be worried. Of course, whose face should I see first when I walked into church but yours? Glad to see you and the hubby are still in the choir, by the way. I never even knew he played guitar...

Anyway, I tried my best to play it cool during Mass. During the sign of peace, I tried all I could to throw two fingers your way. All the other people seemed to get in the way.

I hope you weren't too weirded out by the flier I left on your car after Mass. I had thought that maybe you guys wouldn't come to the barbecue afterwards, so I figured it would be my best shot of letting you guys know about the series. Then I saw you two stroll over to the slab.

I'll admit it, I was surprised by how cool I acted in talking to you. It may have been normal conversation on the outside, but inside, the following kept going through my head:

"Ohmigod...ohmigod...ohmigod...ohmigod...ohmigod..."

Honestly, I tried to at least say hi to your spouse, but for whatever reason it didn't happen. Good to hear you're still working, though it took me a while to figure out what you were talking about doing after 2-and-a-half years. (By the way, sorry about the whole "are you pregnant?" thing. Like I told you, six friends of mine are with child; I saw a slightly protruding belly and a stretch skirt, and I drew my own conclusion. My bad.)

Anyway, hope to see you Thursday, maybe we can talk more then (if your hubby ever lets go of your hand)...

Your Friendly Neighborhood Brown Boy,
Greg

SATURDAY

I woke up the next morning at 9:00 am, refreshed and ready for some wedding action.

Actually, it was more like 9:00 am Central (7:00 am Vegas time), and pooped. One bad thing about having a room with a view of the Strip, it also has a view of the sunrise. (It was a pretty good room, though, I gotta say.) After puttering around for a couple of hours, I decided to head downstairs for some buffet action, and some more gambling. After turning $40 into over $100 playing Three Card Poker (not a hard game to learn, and one that some good money can be made), I decided to make my way over to the Wynn for the wedding. The bride asked that I be there at 11 to help her out. I met up with her and the groom's brother's girlfriend (let's refer to her as "GBG,"for short), who was doing the bride's hair, since she works at a salon. I actually got to sit in the chair for a bit as GBG did some work on my unibrow. After working on me for a few minutes with some tweezers and a brow brush (which was not a mascara applicator, she convinced me), I had to admire myself in the mirror for a bit. (As much as one with not the highest self-image can do, anyway...)

After admiring the view in my friend's room and getting dressed, the three of us headed down to the chapel. The bride was nervously texting the groom's brother, making sure he was getting ready, as well as making sure the coast was clear so he wouldn't see him. I decided to send a message of my own to help calm her:

"Love ya, babe. You're gonna do great."

She turned around after reading the message on her PDA and smiled, I offered one in return.

Walking down the hall heading toward the hotel's wedding salons (their term, not mine), I started humming the synth riff to Europe's "The Final Countdown." Why not set some mood music, right?

After getting there, we saw everyone but the groom in their Sunday best. We talked for a bit, then the bride was shown to her dressing room. About two minutes later, I heard, "Greg? The bride is calling for you. Says you're the only one that can help calm her nerves." I walked in, figuring that this was going to be the only time I'd ever be inside a room such as this.

Inside, she was a bit nervous, more about the finality of it all more than anything else.

"Do you love him?" I asked.

I've asked this question only twice before. The first time was during college, when trying to figure out whether a friend's relationship with her boyfriend was the real deal (and hopefully to try and get an in myself in the process). She said yes, but it ended up not working out to a variety of factors. The second time was to my ex. She said yes, and we all remember how that turned out.

"Yes," my friend answered. Happy that she gave me the right answer, I kissed her forehead, and she sat in a chair, trying not to cry. I took some pictures with my old Pentax 35mm camera when the photographer knocked on the door, and began taking pictures of the happy bride, as well as shots of her and I. The photographer referred to me as the "man of honor." I'd never heard my role described like that before, and it was a cool title to have. After some pics, and some notes on the logistics from the preacher, a coordinator told us it was showtime.

I walked her to the door, and it opened to reveal a beautiful peach-colored room containing family, friends, and the groom. After walking her halfway down the short aisle, the preacher stopped us.

"Who gives this woman to be married?"

"Her friend, Greg."

I kissed her on the cheek, said "Love you," and handed her off to her man in exchange for her bouquet of purple roses.

The ceremony went quick, the real emotional part coming during the vows. He memorized his, she had hers typed down. When the time came for her to say her words, I reached into my coat pocket, and pulled out a sheet of paper containing the following:

I, the bride, choose you, the groom, as my best friend, my love for life. I promise you my deepest love, my fullest devotion, I promise to be faithful to you. I promise to love you, to commit to you, support you, and to always stand by your side.

You have shown me what love feels like, and for that, I thank you. You are everything I have ever prayed for and everything I have dreamt of.

I thank God for you, for all your love and friendship. I know that our love is heaven sent and I promise to be here for ever and always. From this moment on, you will never be alone. My heart will be your shelter and my arms will be your home. As I have given you my hand to hold, I give you my life to keep forever.

At that moment, the groom's mother really started tearing up, and so did I. I found myself happy that my friend found someone worthy of those words, as well as wondering who I would say those words to, as well as when I would say them.

After the groom kissed the bride, they headed out the door, followed by myself and the best man. He and I shared a champagne toast, the happy couple opting for sparkling cider. After some more pictures, including some of me that may end up here, we left the chapel for lunch.

(A quick aside: there's nothing like the feeling you get when you're walking through a casino in a suit accompanied by other well-dressed people. People just seem to notice you, like you're important or something. More than a couple of women looked upon our group with smiles on their faces, either having us remind them of their special day, or wondering about their once upon a time.)

Rather than brave the midday Nevada sun, we boarded two cabs for the Venetian to head to one of Emeril's places, Delmonico. This would end up being the nicest meal I had there, as well as the last meal the seven of us would share in Vegas, as everyone else had separate plans for the rest of the weekend. The real downer came about 30-45 minutes into the meal, when I realized I left my camera on the floor of the taxi. (If any Las Vegas cab drivers happen to read this, and you found an old-school camera with a frayed black strap in your cab at around 1:30 this past Saturday, could you please drop a comment?)

After heading back to the couple's room, and admiring the scattered rose petals left behind as a surprise for them, I trudged back to my hotel room in my suit. I passed out for a bit before heading down for more action. I ended up walking the strip, taking in the sights of the people carrying margaritas by the yard, and the sounds of people flicking cards for live models in their hands. I met the happy couple in front of the MGM Grand, and we ended up going back to the Venetian, this time for a romantic gondola ride. Well, as romantic as it can get with a bride, groom and a man of honor, and when the bride complains of swollen feet. 15 minutes and two or three songs later, it was over. They headed back to the Wynn to enjoy their wedding night, I went back for another nap and more gambling. This time, I added craps to my gaming. And after making a good run for a few throws, I ended up just below breakeven status.

"So how was your Vegas trip?"

Allow me to answer that question in multiple parts...

FRIDAY
My usual procrastination routine hurt me yet again. Even though my flight wasn't leaving till 3:30, I was still rushing at the last minute to get stuff done before my friend took me to the airport. Even then, I wasn't able to cross everything off my list. But, when my ride came, my thoughts turned to only one thing, getting on a plane.

I don't know about you, but I still get a thrill everytime I'm on a plane that takes off. (This time, the thrill was whether or not I'd get sick from the rough movements during take-off, but no matter.) The whole notion of a piece of machinery sending 150 people or so 37,000 feet into the air is pretty remarkable to me.

Something else I've learned: traveling is all about standing in line. Lines to check in, lines to go through security, lines to get on the plane, lines to get off the plane, lines to get your bags, and (in my case) lines to get a cab. My bags and I were whisked away along I-15 to Treasure Island. After checking in and getting settled in, I headed across the street to the Fashion Show Mall, where a rehearsal dinner of sorts was happening.

There, I met up with the entire wedding party: the bride and groom, his parents, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend. As we walked in, I told my friend, the bride, that it was a good sign that we were eating here since the last wedding I went to had the reception at this same restaurant. After we all sat down and gave our drink orders, I whispered to her my thrill of acheiving the rare feat of becoming a 7th wheel. We talked about the flights in (okay), where everyone was staying (four groups, four different hotels), and the plan for tomorrow. After dinner, we decided to check out the chapel where it was going down. (I will say this, the Wynn is a very beautiful resort. One of these days, I'll actually be able to afford staying there.)

I took off back to my hotel, and ended up walking all the way to Caesar's Palace and back before turning in. I had a beginning stretch where I turned $5 into around $40 at a nickel slot (with help from a $5 contribution from a neighbor who I helped with a bonus round on his machine). By the end of the night, I think I ended up down about $60 or so. However, I couldn't concentrate on that, at least not right then; I had more important life events to deal with...

INGREDIENTS FOR A PRETTY GOOD WEEKEND:

- Sunshine after what seemed like weeks of clouds and rain.
- A marathon of American Gladiators on ESPN Classic.
- Mowing my parents' lawn. (Honestly, I wasn't thrilled with the idea at first, but they needed the help, especially after my dad's minor operation earlier this week)
- A call from a friend for ice cream which turned into a fun night of dinner, dessert and Dance Dance Revolution.
- The same friend (who told me earlier that I'd make a good priest) saying that I'd make a good husband and father. (Honestly, I started tearing up a bit; I've not gotten a lot of compliments from people lately, but hearing one like that really made me feel good.)
- An invite from a work friend to go hit golf balls this morning.
- Great weather to play golf.
- Some good shots on the practice range.
- Some good Mexican food for breakfast.
- Seeing my old friend at the restaurant.
- An afternoon nap.
- Palm Sunday Mass.
- A meeting with the church's young adult group.
- Dinner afterwards, with a new member, a 20-year-old nursing student who has good taste in skirts.
- Finding out "Deal or No Deal" is holding auditions in town April 17.

In the latest of hare-brained schemes ways to cope, I got an idea in my head that I thought would bring about a great sense of closure.

A gravy boat.

Sometime this afternoon, the following monologue occured in my head:

I know what I can do! I can show that this whole wedding thing doesn't
affect me by getting them a wedding gift! Nothing says "I'm over it" like
kitchenware.

Earlier tonight, in a fit of obsession, I searched for their registry. Three websites later, I found their gift list at the Big Home Goods Store. (Even more irony in all of this is that my aunt is currently employed there.) I was thisclose to actually going through with it, before calling V and having her convince me it was a bad idea. (The key lesson in all of this, kids, is that I can't make up my own mind.)

So maybe I'm still not over it. But I now know what ELSE I won't do.

HOW I SPENT MY NEW YEAR'S
(The Edited Version, as told to veritate over ICQ about nine hours ago)

Me- 02:00 AM: Happy New Year!
veritate- 02:00 AM: Happy new year, my Bevo!
Me- 02:00 AM: Did it just hit midnight over there?
veritate-02:00 AM: An hour ago.
Me- 02:01 AM: Time zones always confuse me... Happy 2007!
veritate- 02:01 AM: You too!
Me- 02:01 AM: So how are you?
veritate- 02:01 AM: Sleepy. Heh.
veritate- 02:02 AM: I crashed at about 9:00 pm.
Me- 02:02 AM: You wild woman, you.
veritate- 02:03 AM: *giggle*
veritate- 02:03 AM: I just wanted to stay in tonight. All the others went to some crazy black & white masquerade.
Me- 02:04 AM: Sounds like fun. I just came from a place where I admitted to a roomful of strangers (and crushes) that I (censored).
veritate- 02:04 AM: That you what (censored)?
Me- 02:05 AM: er, had (censored),
veritate-02:05 AM: Was there drinking prior to this admission?
Me- 02:06 AM: Some champagne was had, yes.
veritate- 02:06 AM: Yeah. Sorta' makes sense.
Me- 02:06 AM: Then a game of "I never."
veritate- 02:06 AM: "I never?
Me- 02:07 AM: You never played "I never"?
veritate- 02:07 AM: Nopers.
Me- 02:07 AM: Okay. Basic premise:
Me- 02:07 AM: everyone sits in a circle with a drink.
Me- 02:08 AM: One at a time, players give a sentence starting with the words, "I never..."
Me- 02:08 AM: (e.g. "I never saw E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial.")
Me- 02:09 AM: All those who have done whatever was stated drink.
Me- 02:09 AM: In other words, everyone who HAS seen E.T. drinks.
Me- 02:09 AM: It's a fun way to get drunk and learn about your friends at the same time.
veritate- 02:09 AM: Kewl.
veritate- 02:09 AM: I could get everyone sloshed.
Me- 02:10 AM: Maybe.
Me- 02:10 AM: Of course, it can get bad when everyone gangs up on you by saying stuff that pertains ONLY to you.
veritate- 02:11 AM: like, I've never dressed as a Jedi?
Me- 02:11AM: Yep.
veritate- 02:11 AM: Ah.
Me- 02:11 AM: Or, "I've never lived in Whitecourt" or "I've never hugged a Texan."
veritate- 02:11 AM: Tee hee!
Me- 02:12 AM: So I thought I'd be more upset about not having anyone to kiss at midnight, but it's not really that bad.
Me- 02:12 AM: Of course, the slight buzz I have going helps things.
veritate- 02:12 AM: Yep.
Me- 02:13 AM: So I had a realization a la Family Guy (minus the Grim Reaper and Peter Frampton)...
veritate- 02:13 AM: ... okay
Me- 02:14 AM: I've got a pretty good life.
veritate- 02:14 AM: Woo hoo! Yes, you do.
Me- 02:15 AM: I realized this while eating at La Madeline near an ice skating rink in Houston.
veritate- 02:16 AM: Nice.
Me- 02:17 AM: I'll have to blog about this soon, but it's something that made me well up a little bit for the second time in about 16 hours.
veritate- 02:18 AM: Aw,
veritate- 02:18 AM: (I wanna' tell you this before I forget - but I don't wanna' get you off-topic - my friend is marching as a Stormtrooper in the Rose Bowl Parade tomorrow morning!)
Me- 02:19 AM: Doubt I'll be awake for it, but I'll try to catch it. That should be fun. (Editor's note: I was awake for it, but other things like The Price Is Right, football and showering took precedence, so I missed out.)
veritate- 02:20 AM: Lucasfilm flew her down to California for it. She was selected, along with 400 other troops, out of 20,000 who sent in marching videos. They're marching to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Star Wars. She's had dinner with George Lucas.
Me- 02:21 AM: Damn, impressive. Did I meet her?
veritate- 02:21 AM: Um... I don't think so. She was a trooper at the Stampede, but I don't think you spoke with her.
Me- 02:22 AM: No. I only saw laughingmagpie, whose real name I can't remember.
veritate- 02:24 AM: Jen.
veritate- 02:24 AM: Her name is Jen.
Me- 02:24 AM: Jen! That's right.
Me- 02:24 AM: Anyway, good for your friend. That should be fun.
veritate- 02:25 AM: It'll be gruelling, but we're so proud of her.
veritate- 02:25 AM: Anyway... you were telling me about welling up.
Me- 02:27 AM: Yeah. The first was at a wedding reception during the Groom/Mother dance. (Editor's note: This was a wedding I went to in Houston. Left my place in S.A. at 10:30 am, thinking the ceremony was at 3 pm, when it was at 2 pm. Since the church was on the other side of Houston, I ended up missing it and only going to the reception. Still, it was a nice night. Read on...)
Me- 02:27 AM: The song? "I'll Stand By You" by the Pretenders.
veritate- 02:27 AM: Ah. I have that song on CD.
Me- 02:27 AM: And I don't know why, but I started welling up. No tears on the cheek or anything, but it got to me.
veritate- 02:28 AM: I can get all sappy about anything. It's kinda' pathetic, actually.
Me- 02:28 AM: Not really. Just means you're a girl. ;)
veritate- 02:28 AM: :P
Me- 02:29 AM: Anyway, while my friend V and I were at lunch, I had that realization (she was away from the table at the moment).
veritate- 02:29 AM: Awesome.
Me- 02:30 AM: I basically realized that I have the ability to determine what I can do each day. I have the ability (physical/financial/etc.) to drive to Houston and spend time with friends, eat good food and enjoy their company.
veritate- 02:31 AM: What else could a man want?
Me- 02:31 AM: Well...
veritate- 02:31 AM: Oh, come on.
Me- 02:31 AM: I'm kidding, Rae.
veritate- 02:31 AM: Good. :)
Me- 02:31 AM: I'm gonna TRY not to make that such a big thing this year.
Me- 02:32 AM: (And you can keep the whole "There is no try, only do or do not" speech...)
veritate- 02:32 AM: It seriously didn't occur to me.
Me- 02:32 AM: It did to me, probably only because of the booze.
veritate- 02:32 AM: Heh.
Me- 02:33 AM: Oh, and I got a great idea for when/if I get married for a takeaway gift.
veritate- 02:33 AM: Oo!
Me- 02:33 AM: Mixtapes.
veritate- 02:33 AM: Awesome... except, make them cd's.
veritate- 02:33 AM: ;)
Me- 02:34 AM: Well, they were CDs, I'm just using the general term.
veritate- 02:34 AM: I know. I'm being a goof.
Me- 02:34 AM: Really? I hadn't noticed.
veritate- 02:34 AM: *scoff* ... That's an awesome idea, Greg.
Me- 02:35 AM: Yeah, they had some cool songs. Some standards, some country, and capped it off with "Ain't No Stopping Us Now."
veritate- 02:36 AM: Nice.
...
Me- 02:38 AM: And I'm still wondering what a Tourtierres is...
veritate- 02:40 AM: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tourti%C3%A8re
veritate- 02:40 AM: Tourtiere is a French Canadian meat pie.
veritate- 02:40 AM: My mother learned to make them from my paternal grandmother.
veritate- 02:41 AM: They are so delicious.
...
Me- 02:43 AM: Meat pie. Got it.
veritate- 02:43 AM: Not just any meat pie, though.
veritate- 02:43 AM: So delicious, words fail to describe.
...
veritate- 02:47 AM: Anyway, my Bevo, my head is fuzzy and I need to go to bed. Besides that, it's really late where you are!
Me- 02:48 AM: It's only 2:47... ;)
veritate- 02:48 AM: Yeah! I KNOW!
veritate: 02:48 AM: That's super late.
Me- 02:48 AMGoodnight, Rae. Happy New Year.
veritate- 02:48 AM: You too!
veritate- 02:48 AM: G'nite.