To my family...

I want to tell you that I am feeling what you are feeling. That I am there even though I am not there. I know that I have begun my own little family, but I feel more a part of you than ever before. I see more clearly the ties that bind us. I feel more poignantly every hurt and rejoice more fully with every new obstacle overcome.

Today I am thinking of you. I am wishing I could have been with you during all the scary and difficult things you have had to deal with these past two years. And that I could be there now to see you moving forward. I am praying you will remember how much I love you. I am hoping you are receiving the peace that you need from the one person who has felt your pain before, has cried with you and for you, and has lived after death so that you know you can make it through.

Some things you should know:
Mom- I still ache to consult you about every decision.
Dad- I still need you, when things look ominous, to step in and make everything alright.
Megan- I still need you to be my best friend every single day.
McKay- I still need you to be the peace maker you were born to be--- maybe now more than I ever have before.


I am you, and you are me.We are small in numbers, but we are strong.

Aren't we?

Yes, I very much think we are.

Most of all--- I love you.

oh hi, hormones

Last night, I am sorry to report, my man-hunk and I watched the Heat vs. Bulls game. Clint, bless his heart, did everything a man should prior to watching a professional sports game with his woman. He gave me kisses upon my return from work, had the house clean, cooked a delicious dinner, and bought me (of his own accord and from his own loving man-heart {and wallet}) a big drink from the McDonalds and two boxes of kettle corn from the source of our weekly yumminess (Kroger).

It was all going so well.

Until... the unthinkable happened. And I can't go into it, because I kinda made a pact never to rehash the events of that game ever again.

But the whole event was very heated at our home (minus a small bit towards the beginning of the second half when I had finished the big drink and popcorn and felt that I might go to sleep). At any rate, something I had cared nothing about initially became a frenzied life-or-death matter. Needless to say there was a lot of screaming at the TV screen. I didn't even hold back when Clint was chatting with my father-in-law on the phone. I continued my ranting shamelessly.

But you see, despite the disgusting display sponsored by the NBA that we had just wasted 3 hours of our lives on and that I felt we had been deeply wounded by the unfairness of this increasingly crooked world and had been dealt a heavy blow by The Man, I still knew deep down that it was just a game that I didn't care all that much about.

So I knew when I got all crabby and silent right before bed that something was up. But I didn't know what it was. Universe, give me a sign, I thought as I brushed my teeth. I tried to talk it out with Clint, see if maybe the anger really was because of the game. But he just asked "What game?" in absolute denial and continued to brush.

And the more I brushed and flossed and couldn't figure out why I was suddenly so aggrivated, the more my aggrivation increased. And my vision was clouded even further. I even missed the hint from the end of those yellow pills and the beginning of the little white ones.

And the husband! Oh, that sweet, smart man. He either was unawares of what was going on due to his own internal struggles trying to forget the soul-distressing game we had just witnessed, or he chose to ignore it for his own good. Either way, I am quite sure he had no idea why I went to bed all taciturn with my brow furrowed and my folded arms and my huffy shuffle.

Poor guy.

So, I'm sitting at my desk at work today pondering the mysteries of last night when it dawns on me that I did have a reason for being all flustered last night. I am not actually a moody sports-psycho. Just one of the billions of weary endurers of the woes of womanhood.

The fact is, Patty May Suckerson has come to visit. That punk.

I know she has to come---once a month for the good of my uterus and in the name of the Circle of Life. I know it, and I embrace it. But I don't like it.

However, now that the dark cloud hovering overhead has been identified, it doesn't seem so dreary. Isn't that how it always works? The worst part is figuring out what the bad things are. Once you know... they aren't good persay; they just have less badness, ya know? It's like in 4th grade when you learn about negative numbers. You can add some positives and some more positives, but until you hit zero--- you're still in the negatives, baby.

I guess the point is:

Husband- I am sorry for my grouchy-premenstralness, but can you bring me some more kettle corn and a large Diet Coke, please?

Oh and a scrunchie, please, before I get all hormonal and pull out my hair!

Oh, and I love you VERY much.

K thanks!

When in Carolina...

Do what the Carolinians do.

It's Bo Time, baby!



We found THE Bojangles man. THE BOJANGLES MAN! If I thought he wouldn't have had a heart attack from fright, I might have gone and kissed him on the head for all he has done to make this world a
tastier--if slightly more obese--place.

Dang it, my stomach is growling.

My closet is {probably} a portal...

The magic kind. I'm quite sure of this. I don't mean like Harry Potter portal, either. No no no. Much more romantic than that. More akin to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Yes, very C.S. Lewis-esque (because we would be buds if I hadn't been -26 years old when he died. (And yes, I did use Wikipedia and a calculator to figure that out, okay?)). Except you don't have to wade through fur coats to discover the magic land of my closet. (Although I wouldn't mind having fur coats to wade through...)

At any rate, I have never actually been to the other side of our closet-portal. I suppose it simply doesn't work when I go in all full of expectations. Murphy's law or karma or the grass is greener... Poop, I know there is some adage that fits here! 

But my Clintman has been through the portal. If you ask him, he will most likely deny it. He's not really one for such nonsense. I'm the nerdy one in the family (as you may remember from my confessions). But I know he has been, because this very morning after we woke up, he got a head-start to the bathroom. I followed 2 seconds behind and poof! He was nowhere to be found. I looked in the closet, then into the shower, then behind the door. Gone.

Just as I was about to yell something witty to call him back from whence he escaped, there he was. Facing his side of the closet, eyes closed, swaying slightly. In a trance, possibly?

No. Clint had been to the other side of the closet portal. Only he was too tuckered out to even know it let alone enjoy it, poor guy.

Well, I was so relieved that I wasn't going crazy. (He hadn't disappeared afterall; he had simply been on a short trip to Closet Land.) All I could do was just give him a squeeze of joy and let him show himself to his side of the bathroom whilst I went about my closet routine of picking what to wear, in hopes that I might be aloud a brief trip (I know it's "allowed" but I wrote "aloud" first and decided to leave it because it was so gosh darn dumb).

But apparently I was too concious for that or something. Those magical closet snobs.

Well, someday I am sure I will forget all about the portal that is my closet. I will walk in unawares, place my hand on my favorite frilly frock, and BAM!

Closet Land.

Except it will have a way cooler name, and I will certainly open my eyes to a field of pink peonies.

How lovely.

P.S. "A watched pot never boils." THERE it is! 

Because of my living room...

...I am now drained of all creative juices and will now be posting pictures mostly of inanimate objects, sorry. But seriously. I spent the entire weekend (almost) rearranging the furniture, the pictures, the books, the knick-knacks, the what-have-yous... (and not just in the living room, either), and now I am simply devoid of good ideas for posting.

I did have an interesting dream, though! It was about babies, you know those dreams? Well, anyways, I magically popped out a baby girl (meaning no pain, gore, nothing), except that she was born with lots of curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a frilly little dress on. Oh, and she would repeat everything I said. And no one in the dream seemed to think that was weird except for me. They kept telling me that my daughter is so beautiful, so perfect, so... Ugh. I kept telling them that newborns aren't supposed to look like that, aren't supposed to talk to you... They come out pink and wrinkly and crying.

Why wasn't mine wrinkly and crying, huh?!

I think it must have been the peanut butter cookies and the stuffy sinuses talking, but seriously, that dream really weirded me out. I mean what kind of sick kid dreams up that kind of stuff? I woke up clammy and disgusted and ready to crawl back under the covers and sleep for another 10 hours.

But se la Monday!, right?!

So, because my brain is a puddle of goo swimming in yucky allergy-ness, I am just going to post some things from our week that I loved.

Clint brought out the wooly mammoths to aid him in the long nights of finals prep. (And no, I'm not talking about his hairy man-legs. Although I like those very much, too.) Those bad boys are begging me to turn them into fat sock puppets, don't you agree? They would look so nice with googly-eyes & pipe-cleaner buzz-cuts, right?



I steal Clint's pajama pants and used them for my lounging purposes... every night, pretty much. Aren't they lovely? Like plaid heaven-- soft and billowy. Allowing for just the perfect amount of breeziness (because that's very important, ya know?). But they are especially lovely and comforting when Clint has finals. They keep me warm till my main-man can come back to cuddle.
Quite the gentlemanly PJs, if you ask me...




Sweet potato fries (by Cafe Express) + Pepsi Max = UHH-HUH!
I mean really?-- fries that require no kind of condiment?!
Fries that are even a little flaky on the outside, crunch just the right amount, and are slightly sweet?!
Fries that cost as much as a whole meal and you can't even be mad about it?!
Then you add a drink that not only is the best kind of dark soda imaginable but has ginseng to add a special zip-zip-zing!?
Alright, alright!!!




I got really domestic this week and did a bunch of mending. And--- don't laugh at me women who believe it is degrading to do the mending--- it was FUN! Seriously, am I ridiculous?! I watched 1950s movies on TCM and mended. How quaint, right?
And I guess that means that instead of buying new things, I should just fix the old stuff, right?!
Or maybe both... yeah, probably both.

 

Some little birds have taken up residence with us. I don't appreciate their hungry squawking, but they are just so cute peeking their little heads out looking for their mother. One time I think they even asked me, "Are you my mother?" But I can't be sure, because I don't speak Baby-Bird. So I just ignored them. Or maybe I said, "Shut yo moufs birdies!"--- I can't really remember...



Well, this is a Houston freeway. Endless traffic. BUT up ahead is a Houston skyline. Up above is the gorgeous Texas sky. And in a few miles there will be an IKEA.
I say, Yes indeedy!




I also always love going to Astros games (even though their really stinking up the place lately) and taking awkward pictures of me with the Clintonator. We feast on chili dogs or bratwurst that taste kind of like the sole of your shoe (but magically aren't so bad because you're at a baseball game), sing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" with vigor and vim, & hem and haw every time the other team hits a homer.



And this, my friends, was the best part of Friday's game. Go here to see what this is all about. Totally made my life---
I mean my night.

Then there were the post-game fireworks. Synchonized to country music. In a ballpark.
The Houston skyline sillouhetted in the backgroung.
God bless America, ya know?

This is my favorite picture from that night. Or maybe ever.
Kind of reminded me of this little number by Whistler.
What do you think?



Oh and exams are a great excuse for me to make sweet-treats for my Sweet-Treat.
And to be as sappy as I want, too!



Best for last--- the rains came down and the Texas sky put on a show.

What a lovely week!

Oh, and P.S. I redecorated the entire apartment this weekend, with the exception of Clint's man-cave.

Pictures to come.

Pancho libre...

  the deets:

shirt from express

skinny cords from lands's end

shoes by miz mooz

wrap from old navy

belt from aeo

shades from tj maxx

and i've resurrected the converse.

welcome back ya little pink beauts!

Them is fightin' words...

today i feel like a fight.

and it wasn't even the traffic or the writing up of a massive spreadsheet

or low blood sugar or a bad hair day

that did the trick!

{it was just a whole lotta weird in between all those things}

but seriously, i don't know if i will last the whole day without

blowing something up or punching a tree.

(which would hurt really really bad, right?)

isn't that weird?

and would you be scared of this face if it wanted to fight?

yeah, me neither.

i am ready to get some husband-hugs & have a date night.

dumb med school exams always up in our grizzll (?)...

froshizzle.

*after-the-fact update to this whiny post*
(1) heard the song "just breathe" by pearl jam (for the first time) on the way to pick up lunches.
+ 2 warm fuzzy.
(2) someone trashed the conference room (and by someone i mean a room full of awkward adults.
and that's theworst kind of adult, you know?)
- 1.5 warm fuzzies.
(3) received my first very-own, addressed to me, letter at the office.
+ 3 warm fuzzies.
(4) drove to the irs office, walked to the building in my 4 inchers, went through security, then was asked to take my camera back out to the car. don't want me sneaky-sneaking a quick-one of any government secrets with my bright orange digital, now do we?!
- 4 warm fuzzies.
(5) going back through security the irs security guards told me i look like amanda bynes. since i'm having a bad face day & a bad hair day, & i happen to think amanda bynes is pretty cute...
+ 4.5 warm fuzzies.
(6) there is a surprise waiting for me on the kitchen table.
and a clint. but not on the kitchen table. maybe just at the table.
+ a bajillion warm fuzzies.

well, i'm not really a math-whiz or anything, but i am pretty sure this is shaping up to be a good friday!

One man's trash & some pink lipstick...

you know how sometimes it is hard when you are young, poor, nomadic, and sharing living space? let me categorize that-- know how it's hard when you are all those things to try and leave your mark on your place of residence?

was that confusing?

okay, let me rephrase. doesn't it sometimes seem pretty pointless to decorate & add homey touches when you are living off loans & generally transient?

because sometimes that's how i feel.

but then i get these ideas, you see. little flashes in my head of how i want things to be (you know what i'm talking about, right?). how i would make my little house ((apartment)) a home. the flashes are fleeting, and the image changes-- a LOT (much to the husband's dismay). the one commonality is my brain. the little pieces are all glimpses into a tiny home i have created in my head.

i would really someday like to fit all the pieces together & create a whole picture. (and maybe my roommate would really like for me to just pick which of the brain-homes i want and get on with it already. (but in a very loving, patient sorta way... you know?))

well, what i am really saying is here are some of my brain pieces for you to take a gander at. maybe they will inspire a brain-home flash of your own.




glassware from the women's home of houston "cottage thrift shop".
total: $5



hollywood & las vegas b&w framed photos from target.
wallpaper samples from anthropologie.
cut-outs by me.

gorgeous knitted runner compliments of my incredibly talented grandma darlene.
decoupaged particle box by me.
wreath by me using this tutorial.

birdonatree topiary by me.
satchel from mexico--i looked all over mexico for this baby.

and in other news- i promised you some pink lipstick.

and i always deliver.

happy thursday!

pottery barn

but med school is pretty easy, right?...

the other day i was watching clint study. yeah, i'm creepy like that.

and i got a little cocky...

it went down kinda like this:

becky: whatchya reading?

clint: just this chart...

 becky: (nose pointed slightly upward) this chart? really? (chuckle) i mean i could probably do this stuff... is this really what med school is like?

clint: uh-huh...

(silence, some switching from the chart to the notes document, silence...)

 becky: and what's that?

clint: my notes on the chart.

becky: oh, interesting... let me see, please.

(silence)

becky: (muffled) wow! (cough) ummm, how do you pronounce the first word?

(silence as clint smiles)

mr. owl out on the town...

this dude came in the mail for me on friday. naturally i decided to adopt him as my pet and name him cedric-- since we can't have a dog, cats are absolutely out of the question due to the fact that they make me want to die, and all my small pets tend to die horrible deaths.

anyways, a little about cedric. contrary to what his name would suggest, he is all the way from tokyo! for real. a world traveler at his young age. i am so proud!

{isn't he a handsome little hoot?}

well, clint surprised me with yet another treat from tokyo. SUSHI! okay, not exactly from tokyo. but hailing from japan. and that's close enough, right?

so i put on my duds and clint and i (really just i because i don't think clint is quite as fond of cedric as i am...)determined to take cedric out for his grand debut downtown-- at CRAVE sushi. what a tasty entrance into society, is it not!?

(sorry for the cheesy by-the-fridge picture. i didn't want my hair to wilt in the houston air.)

{this debut-of-cedric brought to you by banana republic boots, aussie hairspray, & diet coke.
all proud sponsors of becky's life}

well, the sushi was awesome. the company was divine (of course!). and to tell you the truth, we forgot all about mr. cedric the owl. but i think he enjoyed himself...

{and isn't he so handsome?! k, don't answer that. i get jealous easily. but he is, huh?}

{and this is my hair. post-traumatic-humidity disorder.}

after i tucked cederic safely away with the other dangly bangles in my closet, mister dreamy-but-difficult-while-being-photographed and i settled into the snuggle position on our huge red couch to enjoy kettlecorn, crystal lite, and modern family. on dvd. because we rock.

{i also created these little safe-for-the-couches cups for our movie watching adventures. stay tuned for the how-to!}

{so good. seriously.}

life is really great sometimes, isn't it? especially with a pet owl.