Ahem (as she clears her throat)
My Dearest Lola,
In a few short days I will be packing my bags with my sexiest high heels and my iPhone charger for a little adventure. I will be driven (I don't drive) to the airport and go through security (thanks a lot Bin Laden). The plane will most likely have a screaming child sitti...ng behind me kicking my seat for the 70-minute flight (thank god for Bloody Mary's). During these 70 minutes of hell, I will read, "If the Buddha Dated" trying to figure out my romance less life. After Buddha gives up on me, I will then turn my attention to Jane Austin. That girl got it right. By the time I crack the spine I will be descending into the St. Louis area. It is at this point I will start wondering if my luggage with the jewelry you will try to steal made it on the plane...
After removing those tragic thoughts of lost luggage and stolen jewelry I will prepare myself for what could be (and will be) an epic weekend visit with you. Karaoke is a must. I will land the plane (this is only if the pilot is a complete dumbass) and taxi to the terminal. Without a rush to get off the oxygen recircul...ated cabin (these people tend to piss me off), I will make my way to the baggage claim. This is where you come into play. You might be late (you will buy drinks if this happens) to greet me at the airport (gosh damn jobs). When we see each other there will be a scene. There is no way of getting around this and if Ryan is with you, he will most likely ask to wait in the car. From this moment on, it is Lola and Chanel. Interpretive dancing and spontaneous singing will be unavoidable. Please prepare for this visit accordingly and I will look for a corn sack.
All my love,
Chanel
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Catch Up, Not Ketchup
I hate ketchup and playing catch up. Ugh... Ketchup is made from rotten tomatoes and catch up is because I procrastinate more than anyone I know. Tragic flaw 89. However, it is during these times of procrastination I have the experiences that make up this beautiful mess of a life. For example, sitting in class on Monday evenings I Facebook, Google, shop, IMDB, and read news while I should be listening to lecture. I do pay attention to some things the professor is lecturing over, but there is only so much I can learn about Tulsa Community College (TCC). Let me rant for a moment about this class.
I am a working on a master's in Higher Education Administration. I would like to learn and discuss different types of institutions of higher education while I continue the program; however, my professor does not see it that way. We only talk about TCC... I can tell you about the school's security, organizational structure, building plans, and so on... It is horrible. My classmates and I keep a running tally of how many times Tulsa Community College or TCC is mentioned in lecture. Ugh... I hate it.
Back to catch up...
During my procrastination and Web surfing I do Google articles and news related to higher education that has nothing to do with TCC. Tragic flaw 371, I only like to learn about things that can hold my interest more that 15 minutes.
This question is played out in my head everyday, "Why am I getting this degree?" Yes, having a master's will most likely advance myself in any career, but I don't even think I want to use this degree. A florist with a master's in Higher Education Administration... magical.
Procrastinating is just more fun and interesting than studying. I would rather be outside, reading, painting, riding my bicycle, going to movies, watching baseball games, going on little road trips, and this list can go on and on. School just seems to get in the way of me having the life I truly want...
Well, I better get back to work. I am in the middle of an interesting chat with my friend on Facebook...
I am a working on a master's in Higher Education Administration. I would like to learn and discuss different types of institutions of higher education while I continue the program; however, my professor does not see it that way. We only talk about TCC... I can tell you about the school's security, organizational structure, building plans, and so on... It is horrible. My classmates and I keep a running tally of how many times Tulsa Community College or TCC is mentioned in lecture. Ugh... I hate it.
Back to catch up...
During my procrastination and Web surfing I do Google articles and news related to higher education that has nothing to do with TCC. Tragic flaw 371, I only like to learn about things that can hold my interest more that 15 minutes.
This question is played out in my head everyday, "Why am I getting this degree?" Yes, having a master's will most likely advance myself in any career, but I don't even think I want to use this degree. A florist with a master's in Higher Education Administration... magical.
Procrastinating is just more fun and interesting than studying. I would rather be outside, reading, painting, riding my bicycle, going to movies, watching baseball games, going on little road trips, and this list can go on and on. School just seems to get in the way of me having the life I truly want...
Well, I better get back to work. I am in the middle of an interesting chat with my friend on Facebook...
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Fashion Over Function
On the eve of Valentine's Day, my dear friend and I decided the paint the town. She in her fuchsia lipstick and me in my 5'' yellow heels. It was going to be a good night and the list of things we wanted to accomplish was long. I am not sure if we accomplished much on that list that night, we are still piecing that night back together.
The night began at the usual watering hole, Ned's. You know you go to the bar too much when you walk through the door and three people yell your name. I should be ashamed...but I am not. After finding a suitable table and after saying our hello's, my friend and I made our way to the bar. It is tradition that I begin a night on the town with a shot of Patron. I don't know why I do this. Nights that begin with Patron usual end with me losing my keys or telling someone I don't even know to "suck it." But keeping with our attitude of having the best night ever, we took the shots. I walked back to the table with my usual vodka tonic, a pitcher of beer for two of my other friends, and 3 glasses. I have just recently discovered vodka. I blame that on Chelsea Handler. Bless you Chelsea.
But back to what I remember of that night. I am a sucker of pop culture trivia and pride myself on knowing an abundance of useless knowledge. It is because of this knowledge I won another shot or two and a couple of vodka tonics. Let me do a little plug for Ned's here. The bartenders at Ned's know why we come there, to drink and they will help you do that. Most the shots are doubles, the drinks are strong, and the drinks are cheap. Thank you Ned's.
So after a few more drinks and accepting a pity drink from an ex, I went to another little establishment down the road. It is at this point it gets a little fuzzy...
My friends and I went to the bar and the male friend of mine paid for the cover and told me he wanted a beer, his "date" wanted a water, and he told me to get whatever I wanted. I am not sure, but I think it took me about 20 minutes to order these drinks. Not that it was busy but because a guy had caught my eye. While flirting and not remembering what I was saying, I ordered the drinks. The prey I was talking to was cute. I wasn't too drunk to know that.
After what seems like 10 minutes or an hour of talking to this guy, my friend with the fuchsia lipstick found me. As we made a trek to the bathroom my friend told me my ex was at the bar looking for me. Great. Just what I needed. To deal with him while flirting with another. While I complained and stumbled around in the bathroom I told my friend about the guy I had just met. I have no clue as to what her response was to this. As we walked out of the restroom, I found my guy waiting for me at the exact place I left him. (Yes.) After many attempts to take me home and after repeating "no" a few dozen times (will power), the bar was closing and someone was handing me a drink. Low and behold, the ex. I of course accepted the drink and broke it to him he was not coming home with me. I get a little blunt when I am drinking. That is when people started falling. My friend in the fuchsia lipstick was sitting on the floor and my male friend and his date were carrying my ex out the door...to my car. I do not drink and drive. Just not all about that. A male friend was my DD and I love him for that and so much more. As I am standing next to my car watching him and his date walk to my car something unexplainable happened. I was standing with my hand on the door handle, standing perfectly still talking to my friends and then, I was on the ground. This is were the 5" yellow heels did not come in handy. As my friends come to help me I say,"I just sprained my ankle." He looks at me and we just laugh. We try to figure out how this could have possibly happened but would rather figure it out the next day.
I remember getting home and crawling into bed. My foot felt fine. I thought,"That pop didn't mean anything. It will be better in the morning. It was just a little twist." Well, it has been over a week and I am still limping. Looks like I did a number on my ankle.
The night began at the usual watering hole, Ned's. You know you go to the bar too much when you walk through the door and three people yell your name. I should be ashamed...but I am not. After finding a suitable table and after saying our hello's, my friend and I made our way to the bar. It is tradition that I begin a night on the town with a shot of Patron. I don't know why I do this. Nights that begin with Patron usual end with me losing my keys or telling someone I don't even know to "suck it." But keeping with our attitude of having the best night ever, we took the shots. I walked back to the table with my usual vodka tonic, a pitcher of beer for two of my other friends, and 3 glasses. I have just recently discovered vodka. I blame that on Chelsea Handler. Bless you Chelsea.
But back to what I remember of that night. I am a sucker of pop culture trivia and pride myself on knowing an abundance of useless knowledge. It is because of this knowledge I won another shot or two and a couple of vodka tonics. Let me do a little plug for Ned's here. The bartenders at Ned's know why we come there, to drink and they will help you do that. Most the shots are doubles, the drinks are strong, and the drinks are cheap. Thank you Ned's.
So after a few more drinks and accepting a pity drink from an ex, I went to another little establishment down the road. It is at this point it gets a little fuzzy...
My friends and I went to the bar and the male friend of mine paid for the cover and told me he wanted a beer, his "date" wanted a water, and he told me to get whatever I wanted. I am not sure, but I think it took me about 20 minutes to order these drinks. Not that it was busy but because a guy had caught my eye. While flirting and not remembering what I was saying, I ordered the drinks. The prey I was talking to was cute. I wasn't too drunk to know that.
After what seems like 10 minutes or an hour of talking to this guy, my friend with the fuchsia lipstick found me. As we made a trek to the bathroom my friend told me my ex was at the bar looking for me. Great. Just what I needed. To deal with him while flirting with another. While I complained and stumbled around in the bathroom I told my friend about the guy I had just met. I have no clue as to what her response was to this. As we walked out of the restroom, I found my guy waiting for me at the exact place I left him. (Yes.) After many attempts to take me home and after repeating "no" a few dozen times (will power), the bar was closing and someone was handing me a drink. Low and behold, the ex. I of course accepted the drink and broke it to him he was not coming home with me. I get a little blunt when I am drinking. That is when people started falling. My friend in the fuchsia lipstick was sitting on the floor and my male friend and his date were carrying my ex out the door...to my car. I do not drink and drive. Just not all about that. A male friend was my DD and I love him for that and so much more. As I am standing next to my car watching him and his date walk to my car something unexplainable happened. I was standing with my hand on the door handle, standing perfectly still talking to my friends and then, I was on the ground. This is were the 5" yellow heels did not come in handy. As my friends come to help me I say,"I just sprained my ankle." He looks at me and we just laugh. We try to figure out how this could have possibly happened but would rather figure it out the next day.
I remember getting home and crawling into bed. My foot felt fine. I thought,"That pop didn't mean anything. It will be better in the morning. It was just a little twist." Well, it has been over a week and I am still limping. Looks like I did a number on my ankle.
I can't blame anyone but myself for this. I wore flats for maybe two days but after that I was back in boots and heels. I am a firm believer in fashion over function. My ankle may still hurt but damn it I look good.
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