tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63625342011-04-21T15:06:19.112-04:00Living in the illusion that everything will be okaychristyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comBlogger791100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1164077037105106042006-11-20T21:42:00.000-05:002006-11-20T21:43:57.106-05:00

www.xanga.com/spiritualmaya

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1164076906572289092006-11-20T21:39:00.000-05:002006-11-20T21:41:46.583-05:00

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1083549804438087702004-05-02T22:02:00.000-04:002004-05-02T22:07:46.450-04:00

spiritualmaya

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1083549737767554512004-05-02T22:01:00.000-04:002004-05-02T22:06:39.796-04:00

I was looking through my yearbook and began to read the enlightened words of my high school peers. My senior year I dated a drummer in a band called 5th Grade’s for Losers. This is what he wrote in my yearbook. You, yes you, are the most important person in my life. The highs are really high, the lows are really low, and the middles are really ...um… middle! I know that we’ll always be in each

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1083183191661505032004-04-28T16:12:00.000-04:002004-04-28T16:17:27.716-04:00

Jury Duty rocks!! I am a true supporter of the judicial system. Actually every time I am within a mile radius of a courtroom my craving for being a lawyer returns. Today, I was beckoned by the local courts to fulfill my civic duty. To be honest, I was not looking forward to this day of service, the fulfillment of the covenant between my birthplace and some false freedoms it provides, but it would

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1083033892577351132004-04-26T22:43:00.000-04:002004-04-26T22:49:22.810-04:00

My roommate reported a local news story to me. Apparently, a gentleman in order to increase his abilities and capabilities in bed placed 15 lbs of weights on his penis. The weights are used typically to add and remove pounds on a bench bar. He just slipped them on. After several days, his member turned blue and he called 911. Two trips to Home Depot later, because the rescue crew kept breaking

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1083003233598986762004-04-26T14:12:00.000-04:002004-04-26T14:18:06.780-04:00

http://spiritualmaya.tripod.com/ Let me know what you think!

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1082750363672139352004-04-23T15:57:00.000-04:002004-04-23T16:04:08.840-04:00

When I graduated high school I knew that all I wanted was to get the fuck out of dodge. I had no interest in having one last grand summer before college or any of that WB type crap. I was given an opportunity to be at camp counselor and I jump at the chance. Little did I know, that that dire decision was going to keep me involved in Methodist melodrama for almost 10 years. I did not grow up as a

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1082521686470152852004-04-21T00:27:00.000-04:002004-04-21T00:32:11.903-04:00

My friends bought a new house, which is wonderfully exciting. As good friends, of course, I find myself helping out with odds and ends such as cleaning walls to remove many layers of ancient nicotine and steaming ugly wolf borders in salmon colored rooms but no one mentioned the actual construction. Granted, no one could have predicted that after removing two layers of awful paneling that there

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1082520086091910772004-04-20T23:59:00.000-04:002004-04-21T00:05:48.403-04:00

New Site! Spiritual Maya will be expanding to share more useless and somewhat comical insights. Stay Tuned!

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1082406535957805672004-04-19T16:27:00.000-04:002004-04-19T16:34:32.233-04:00

Take some... bu·reauc·ra·cy 1. Management or administration marked by hierarchical authority among numerous offices and by fixed procedures: The new department head did not know much about bureaucracy. b. The administrative structure of a large or complex organization: a midlevel manager in a corporate bureaucracy. 3. An administrative system in which the need or inclination to follow

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1082087470748250042004-04-15T23:30:00.000-04:002004-04-15T23:56:07.170-04:00

1. In just one week I have had to construct complete scope and sequences for both of my courses. 2. Grade 72 awful folktales, quizzes, and class work. 3. Make up a silly flyer for a course I am not sure will even be offered this summer. 4. Put together a proposal for a summer camp including agendas, guest speakers, scheduling and training. 5. I have had to set up dates and basic information for

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081738575801776682004-04-11T22:55:00.000-04:002004-04-11T23:07:33.593-04:00

The little matter of Jesus on the cross has always disturbed me about Christianity. Though I will concede that for the average Christian that pinnacle moment defines their faith, and sets Christianity apart from the other influential monotheistic religions, I would like to push the claim that the Christian community can stand firmer on the ideology of Christ rather than on the crucifixion and

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081729583342510252004-04-11T20:25:00.000-04:002004-04-11T20:30:16.076-04:00

Easter lunch with my family is always a treat. They decided today that we would be like “Americans” rather than Cubans. The menu consisted of ham, chicken salad and sweet potatoes. For dessert, there was coconut cream pie and flan (couldn’t stray too far from tradition.) My family enjoys sharing in an alcoholic beverage or two. Naturally this means that there is a full bar and someone on blender

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081543944931151612004-04-09T16:51:00.000-04:002004-04-09T16:57:35.216-04:00

The barking dog in my living room woke me up entirely too early this morning. Considering that today was my day off I was hoping to sleep as long as I could keep my eyes shut. That didn’t work out so, I rolled out of bed and took a shower. My head was throbbing a bit from a few too many beers the night before. I checked my email and began to grade piles of papers. It dawned on me that I teach

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081377961991773862004-04-07T18:45:00.000-04:002004-04-07T18:54:07.733-04:00

The following are three pieces that were written at the early stages of my relationship with Russ. I found them as I rummaged through some old crates for work. The first piece was written about two months into our relationship. The first poem was written shortly after and the second about two years later. I do not consider myself a poet, or a much of a lover of poetry. I feel that poetry is one

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081284513110465612004-04-06T16:47:00.000-04:002004-04-06T16:53:48.796-04:00

A year ago on “Good” Friday, I found myself in a hospital pleading with Russ’ mother to be rational enough to sign a do not resuscitate order and let her son go. Today I find myself riddled with guilt at the very minimal amount of time it has take me to be obsessed over bullshit work issues. Shouldn’t I still be mourning the death of a loved one? Life must go on, and I as an active participant in

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081108889558780782004-04-04T16:00:00.000-04:002004-04-04T16:05:12.763-04:00

There are moments that I get very defensive about the societal norm of marriage. Since I was a young child someone has been feeding me lies about marriage and children and I believed them. I believed that life was fully complete once you were married, found one person that you could manage to be with for as long as you both shall live, or the bottom fell out, which ever came first. Even as a

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081055285302782832004-04-04T00:07:00.000-05:002004-04-04T00:16:16.590-05:00

I am a masochist. Why do I spend the evening watching impossible romantic movies where every ending is a happy one? Why do I then consequently pester my poor friend that just wants to veg out and watch a little soccer, after being stuck with several hundred adolescents obsessing over a dead language? Good thing I have loving patient friends because, I don’t have a good answer, really. I

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1081039393021606692004-04-03T19:42:00.000-05:002004-04-03T19:46:54.560-05:00

Today: I watched Lost in Translation. I watched Roger and Me. I watched the first game of the MLS season, only to see my favorite team lose. I watched Two Weeks Notice. My television viewing has progressively declined. Sigh. Oh, I did laundry and collected old clothes for charity. There are days like today, that I am glad I am home alone. Days like today, I am thankful for not leaving the

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080946701938909232004-04-02T17:57:00.000-05:002004-04-02T18:02:02.593-05:00

In high school, I was a part of a very elite group of people that put everything aside and made the school newspaper their number one priority. It sounds ridiculously nerdy, but at our school the journalism department anchored the rest of the school. We collectively were athletes, actors, musicians and academics. We somehow were still invited to the “as seen on TV” type parties where there are

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080875886400796862004-04-01T22:17:00.000-05:002004-04-01T22:22:17.263-05:00

While we were on our great adventure through many southern states the check engine light in my car lit up. I promptly took my car into the dealership, not because I want to pay a million dollars to get it repaired but rather the warranty is still effective. Barely under the wire, only 185 miles until my warranty was worthless. In a world that can duplicate human cells, that can capture Saddam

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080681984027135592004-03-30T16:23:00.000-05:002004-03-30T16:30:00.076-05:00

I used to paint things. There was a time in my life that I had paint stuck underneath my fingernails all the time. All I wanted to do wass paint things. Images used to emerge and I had to get them out. They haunted me. Some things I'd hide (Too Fucked up). Some things only a few small percent of the people I know are allowed to see (Too Creep). Some things I stick on windows and the ladies love

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080457669175302622004-03-28T02:06:00.000-05:002004-03-28T02:15:03.340-05:00

To be completely honest, I have little to write about the last 24 hours of this trip, but I feel a certain obligation to provide a short conclusion. The check engine light in my car has been shining since Tuesday. I was secretly hoping it would just go away and that Henry the Honda, being a Florida car, really didn’t care for the mountains. It didn’t so; the responsible thing to do was to get it

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080275911794108702004-03-25T23:37:00.000-05:002004-03-25T23:43:30.966-05:00

Charlotte. Yesterday, we spent time with Tracy’s cousin and his wife. They had a mini barbeque with delightful hamburgers and hotdogs. We watched horrible television that made me literally curl into the fetal position and rock with a pillow over my head: Newlyweds: Jessica and Nick. Followed by Pimp My Ride. Both MTV shows made me reflect on the cultural demise of our once great nation. Luckily,

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080112583146415762004-03-24T02:14:00.000-05:002004-03-24T02:28:14.733-05:00

Somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains. Today we went to look for land. Land that Tracy’s father left her when he died many years ago. It turns out that this land is owned by a multitude of people. Tracy’s Grandfather and a man named Cheseboro, purchased it together. When Grandpa died, he left it to his three sons and then when Tracy’s father died he left it to her and her brother. So we are

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080108627281705682004-03-24T01:06:00.000-05:002004-03-24T01:15:19.420-05:00

My Best Friend Kevin just called. It is 1:07 AM. He is father. Hudson West came into the world weighing in at 5 pounds and something ounces. Stretching from fingers to toes around 19 inches long. Kevin's wife has been in labor for 36+ hours. I have received many phone calls with the play by play. Last Call: "Well, you an aunt." Tears streamed down my face as I heard the tears in Kevin's voice

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080027316108608002004-03-23T02:34:00.000-05:002004-03-23T02:38:57.280-05:00

Few miles outside of Jacksonville. We stopped at Subway for dinner. We had a late start, so we grabbed our sandwiches and hit the road. As we ate this blue-ribbon intellectual dialogue unfolded: T: I really don’t like this bread M: Which bread is it? T: Italian Urban Cheese Silence M: Where do they have space to make cheese in an urban area? Laughter T: Italian HERB

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1080026932752076262004-03-23T02:27:00.000-05:002004-03-23T02:37:31.123-05:00

First stop. North Florida. North of Ocala . South of Gainesville. Enter trashy gas station to use the facilities. The restroom holds two stalls. One is in use when we arrive. Tracy steps into the other. I wait. Suddenly, the woman in stall 1 asks with a slow sloppy slur: “Do you have a watch? What time is it?” “It’s four o’clock,” I reply. “Four in the evening?” “Yes.” “Do you have two

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079933249907727922004-03-22T00:27:00.000-05:002004-03-22T00:35:27.093-05:00

In the years after college, my roommate and I still shared an apartment on the far North side of St. Petersburg. It was a simple two-bedroom two-bath apartment. It had a large living room and a balcony with a lovely view of the parking lot. Originally, it was just the two of us, but shortly after we moved in so did many others. The approximate population inhabiting this space was seven to ten,

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079891882738031822004-03-21T12:57:00.000-05:002004-03-21T13:05:01.840-05:00

In a short week of dog sitting, I have learned that I don't want a dog. Not only would I be the worst dog owner in the world, but also apparently lots of dog drool makes me skin break out. I grew up in a home where the dogs were kept in the backyard. My dad and I would go outside and play with the dog but when we were finished, the dog would stay in its more natural habitat. I do have a few warm

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079890850368375242004-03-21T12:39:00.000-05:002004-03-21T12:59:05.543-05:00

Over a couple of beers the other night, some friends and I discussed politics and love. We met an interesting character: Noel. Noel is a 34-year-old lawyer, moderate with conservative tendencies. He apparently is having some marital issues including the fact his wife stopped having sex with him. Noel told us about the first time he laid eyes on her. It was like a lightening bolt crashing down on

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079644301456878002004-03-18T16:08:00.000-05:002004-03-18T16:15:01.246-05:00

As I get older I have developed new obsessions. One of these new manias being that I have become a bit of a clean freak. It was reactionary really. As a teenager I was a slob, but when I went to college my roommate was even more of a slob. Together our apartment was nasty and a few of our friends would avoid coming over. We cleaned for parties and special occasions. The only time she really

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079629765267276872004-03-18T12:08:00.000-05:002004-03-18T12:12:44.840-05:00

The nausea won’t stop. My head is throbbing. The night is a blur. I can’t figure out what happened. I am an avid drinker and do not usually get so intoxicated so easily. We went out last night for some St. Patrick’s Day fun. 2 beers and 2 shots later I was asleep in the back seat of my car. Thankfully, a good friend made sure that after falling down a flight of stairs that I was capable of

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079472162724644112004-03-16T16:22:00.000-05:002004-03-16T16:27:40.123-05:00

Mortality was thrown in my face today. I went to get my teeth cleaned. It was a pleasant dental visit. I arrived and didn't even have to wait. The nice hygienist took me straight to the back. We chatted pleasantly about our professions. He showed me new tools in dentistry that make getting your teeth cleaned more pleasant. The actual dentist came by, I had no new cavities, but since I still have

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079446310451358942004-03-16T09:10:00.000-05:002004-03-16T09:23:21.250-05:00

When I was about fourteen years old I began having a strange series of dreams. In my dreams, I was always in my bedroom at my parents’ house. I could see everything, including me sleeping, at first. Then, through the dream, the me that was watching became the me that was experiencing it. I was always unsure, if it was a dream or reality. Suddenly, something indescribable enters the room. A dark

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079387250210239782004-03-15T16:47:00.000-05:002004-03-15T16:51:21.890-05:00

My friends and I are constantly revising our top 5 list. The top 5 is a list of people that you are horribly attracted to but are typically unattainable. Usually, these folks are famous movie stars, or musicians. The list also has a built in clause. Which is if you are currently in a committed relationship and for some reason you, a peon, was given the opportunity to “hit it” with one of these

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079278756028812912004-03-14T10:38:00.000-05:002004-03-14T10:42:29.653-05:00

I have a cell phone, as does most of America, except the few that still hold some dignity. My phone is an older model. It does nothing fancy. It doesn’t flip open or have holiday tunes. It doesn’t access the Internet or take photos. All it can do is make calls and these days it barely can do that. When I first purchased this phone it was navy blue. The cover cracked almost immediately after and

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079277615321615872004-03-14T10:19:00.000-05:002004-03-14T10:38:52.280-05:00

Outside Popeye and Bluto’s Bilge-Rat Barges erotica blared from the speakers. Olive Oil was having a grand ol’ time. She had been captured by that pesky Bluto, again, and needed the heroics of Popeye. She pleaded for Popeye to come to her rescue but the pleasure in her voice could have easily confused even the most culpable of porn stars. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Popeye” spun on the audio reel over and over

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1079112453129053192004-03-12T12:26:00.000-05:002004-03-12T12:34:18.263-05:00

What is nobler than to die for love? A recent high school production of Les Miz has tested the ideas of my modernity versus my ideals of romance. There is a reason that epic stories such as these transcend generations of audiences. There is something that pulls the heart as you watch or turn the page as the story unfolds. That pull or twinge is inherent. This conversation began with Eponine,

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078955851142047452004-03-10T16:57:00.000-05:002004-03-10T17:03:02.280-05:00

Golf carts are truly more dangerous than people may believe. They appear to be relatively slow moving four-wheeled battery powered vehicles but if one is not careful it can easily become a death trap. One summer, I was in charge of creative products distribution for the greater camping populace, which proudly bestowed upon me the official title of Craft Queen. The position was filled with

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078890307497277492004-03-09T22:44:00.000-05:002004-03-09T22:48:14.873-05:00

Apparently in the series of ridiculous Reality Television being created by our demented society, there is a new show entitled “High School Reunion.” The premise of this show, according to the brief advertisement that caused me to feel that I was being robbed of precious time from my life, the head cheerleader and naturally, the star quarterback of the football team reunite. Their relationship

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078784790206945032004-03-08T17:26:00.000-05:002004-03-08T17:34:39.403-05:00

Many moons ago, I had a friend that was firefighter we called him Smokey the Bear. He dated my best friend for a year or so. He and I were pretty tight. There are few tidbits of stories that scamper through my mind when I think of him. Being a firefighter he would work 24 hours on and 48 hours off. After a shift, he would drive to visit us at UCF. Each visit he would buy us pizza, because we

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078719926395610292004-03-07T23:24:00.000-05:002004-03-07T23:33:12.153-05:00

Spending the day with my parents is always a fun way to end the weekend. My father sits in a lazy boy watching hours upon hours of soccer. He gets up to get a glass of wine, and speaks only when the word “Gooooooooooooooooooooooooool!” is being bellowed. He looks happy. So, my mother doesn’t bother him much when I am there to bother instead. I was able to zone out with him for a while when my

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078624171092235952004-03-06T20:49:00.000-05:002004-03-06T20:52:34.356-05:00

My first real boyfriend, real being defined that the relationship lasted more than 2 days, was Clark Kaplan. Clark, even at the young age of 13, in the eighth grade, had a wry sense of humor, fairly dark out look on life and was disgustingly intelligent. Which meant for me that I was incredibly attracted to him. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and wore white dress shirts with jeans, which I

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078435671850636622004-03-04T16:26:00.000-05:002004-03-04T16:32:07.310-05:00

Unaware of what today would bring, I rolled out of bed and went to work. In addition to the fact that I don’t even know how to call in, so I am stuck going to work every day until, I take the time to figure that out. Not to mention that the other people in my department would have no idea that I wasn’t there or what I would be doing in my classes. Curriculum mapping apparently should solve this.

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078371635323368472004-03-03T22:39:00.000-05:002004-03-03T22:43:34.513-05:00

Every now and again I miss my mother so much that I ache. It isn’t like I don’t see her or talk to her, but sometimes I want to be a little girl again with no worries and curl up in my mom’s lap. And let her take care of me like she did many years ago. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me. I wonder what I would feel like if I wasn’t alive. If I could be on some other plain of existence

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078352726917639972004-03-03T17:14:00.000-05:002004-03-03T17:28:26.030-05:00

I am having a shitty day. I am exhausted despite the fact that my dumb self went out on a Monday night to get trashed before a normal workday I can’t seem to sleep. I am having constant dreams or maybe even nightmares. One after the other and it’s too the point that my conscious wakes me up before I encounter something extraordinary in my subconscious. I slept less than three hours last night.

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078285100735321112004-03-02T22:38:00.000-05:002004-03-02T22:45:13.640-05:00

In the characteristically bleak city of Tampa exists a dance club that adds a little sunshine to my life. Even the term dance club seems a bit bizarre to depict this establishment and there is clearly no sunshine in it at all. I am not sure that its customary cliental would even bother with sunshine, but it is always a good time. The Castle located behind a colossal edifice filled with family

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1078122841980155352004-03-01T01:33:00.000-05:002004-03-01T01:42:06.106-05:00

My college roommate that remained an independent all four years of our first echelon of higher education went back to her dorm after witnessing the day on the hill for the first time and with a room full of what would be future sorority sisters they pledged their undying devotion to the independent life. She managed to be the only one to carry out this pact, but nevertheless this was the birth of

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-107810144135002602004-02-29T19:37:00.000-05:002004-02-29T19:45:15.606-05:00

Every year during Spring Rush in college, which as a very excruciating week directly from the pits of hell, freshman women would spend their evenings rotating through the sorority houses, so we, the sisters, could pass judgment on whether they were worthy of our friendship. Each night after the freshman had done their prancing in the appropriate dress code for that night, we would sit in a very

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077999925222749892004-02-28T15:24:00.000-05:002004-02-28T15:28:18.700-05:00

Sometimes I hibernate. I spend a day in bed and sleep until I ache. Today is that day.

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077918501847410772004-02-27T16:47:00.000-05:002004-02-27T16:51:38.716-05:00

Why is it that there are structures in place when no one seems to follow the appropriate channels? Why is it that even though, one goes to their immediate supervisors to share ones goals, hopes and dreams and it appears that you must be speaking is an obscure dialect from middle Africa because it is relatively evident that nothing is being accomplished? You just know that no matter what you try

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077763944579479082004-02-25T21:51:00.000-05:002004-02-25T21:55:29.483-05:00

Once when I was 5, I asked my father “How do we know that there is a god?” He replied, “We don’t.” “Then, how do we know whether to believe or not?” “You either do or you don’t, it’s up to you” This dialogue has run through my mind for the last 23 years. I still haven’t chosen. I have spent the majority of my formal education attempting to make sense of this concept. The hope is that

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077680836642146442004-02-24T22:47:00.000-05:002004-02-24T22:50:46.826-05:00

My roommate feels that I am depicting her as a romantic movie watching, ice cream eating maniac. So in her mind, this creates a picture of an obese insecure woman floating through life. My responsibility is to tell you, the readers, that she is a very lovely lady. She is not obese and not anymore insecure than the average American. I will not lie. She does like cheesy movies and ice cream but

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077580897917083052004-02-23T19:01:00.000-05:002004-02-23T19:04:25.076-05:00

Well, the King’s decree went well. My colleagues impressed me with there eloquence under pressure and affirming a member of the royal council that was clearly a conservative Christian and was pushing for the Christian message. He actually alluded to the idea that somehow Christians are being persecuted because of the controversy surrounding Mel Gibson’s movie “The Passion of Christ”. A bit odd

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077510548305917362004-02-22T22:54:00.000-05:002004-02-22T23:33:37.013-05:00

“Sex and the City” has been sweeping the nation this week with its grand finale. My girlfriends and I gathered for dinner and the pre-show. We sat holding out breaths and allowing our emotions to run wild with the characters we have been following for years. We laughed. We cried. And after 45 minutes of suspense we said our peace and scurried off to the lives that we live each day, as tangible as

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077507074178787432004-02-22T22:30:00.000-05:002004-02-22T22:33:59.763-05:00

My mother and I have been having the same conversation since I was 5 years old. I have tried to have it in Spanish, in English and in Swahili, none seem to function. I never dreamt of having lots of money. I never wanted to be a doctor or an investor. I always thought that my life's pursuit should be centered on seeking happiness. Now, my parents were the one's who put these crazy ideas into my

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077456659639018092004-02-22T08:29:00.000-05:002004-02-22T13:29:11.263-05:00

One of my old flames came over last night and we had a few beers. We had several beers over conversation about movies, models and of course, the band, man. He is in a band. He has always been in a band that is not going anywhere and therefore, it has taken him the last 8 years to complete his associates degree. The band is always on the verge of being discovered which is likely to happen when you

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077398578329955412004-02-21T16:22:00.000-05:002004-02-21T16:27:40.780-05:00

My parents are fairly conservative politically. Matter of fact, I stop by their house last month and my father gave me my new voter registration card. Along with it he says, “Here is your card to vote for Bush, it came today.” I thought to myself that now was as good a time as any to inform him that I wasn’t planning on voting for that spoiled brat. “Papi, I am not voting for Bush.” He

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077329269040547042004-02-20T21:07:00.000-05:002004-02-20T21:10:32.123-05:00

Once upon a time there was an evil tyrannical king named Guido. King Guido was an unusually short man that spoke in monosyllable. It was unknown whether he did so because of a lacking vocabulary or rather as an attempt to stay connected to the little people. King Guido would become uncomfortable with the use of larger words and caught off guard, he would snarl at the individual who used them. He

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077157856735216502004-02-18T21:30:00.000-05:002004-02-18T21:36:35.060-05:00

There is no One, no Tree, and as far as I can tell, no Hill. On this new WB show, there are several young hot guys; twisted romances that only an adolescent can truly attain, and none of these characters really have parents or responsibilities. Their existence lies only to confront mortal enemies, have sex and get drunk. It is a really really great show! (In my head, I can hear the stereotype of

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1077050609932982262004-02-17T15:43:00.000-05:002004-02-17T15:46:08.110-05:00

The glorious day of my birth is this week. I have had the pleasure to begin celebrating it this past Friday. Birthdays tend to schedule in time for one to reflect on one’s goals, accomplishments and defeats. Typically, this process is a good exercise. Mapping out your current agenda, and having a good chuckle at the mishaps along the way. If you are at all successful, then perhaps you will pat

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076961512938722682004-02-16T13:55:00.000-05:002004-02-16T15:05:23.576-05:00

Too much time alone tends to spiral me into a deep obsessive thought process. This usually means I buy a pack of Camels, chain smoke, write nonsense and listen to the Indigo Girls. These are the insights that I have taken away from the closest thing to an incarnation of the divine in my world. It took a long time to become the thing I am to you. And you won’t tear it apart without a fight,

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076779937937562272004-02-14T12:29:00.000-05:002004-02-14T12:37:39.966-05:00

Conspiracy theories are magnified today as I realize that Hallmark and who ever makes red teddy bears have joined Hershey and Mariah Carey in constructing yet another reason to purchase gifts, listen to bad love songs and share fake sentiments to prove to your mate, lover, mother, whoever really, that you care. My mom cut the bullshit this year and gave me 20 bucks. To be honest the concept,

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076621508585997542004-02-12T16:09:00.000-05:002004-02-12T16:34:20.030-05:00

Sometimes I am so blown out of the water by the simple fact that we are having this conversation all over the country about whether or not Gay and Lesbian persons should be allowed to marry. Perhaps, I am naïve but this media buzz seems like a no brainer to me. Excluding anyone from their natural rights of life, freedom and property was the surface reason for the establishment of this country. By

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076537837528444572004-02-11T17:11:00.000-05:002004-02-11T17:27:35.186-05:00

We are skeptics. Does being a skeptic really mean that we are less likely to love? Is our generation sad because we have allowed modernity to take away from romance? What lasts longer the clearly altruistic approach to love or the egoism involved in self-preservation? The self-preservation will lead to a life of loneliness, which in fact is the single most defining fear of most Americans. A

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076535010137699332004-02-11T16:02:00.000-05:002004-02-11T16:33:07.483-05:00

My roommate has a passion for movies with happy endings. She claims that life is not the fantasy that she had expected, and now she lives vicariously through overpaid Hollywood beauties and their leading beaus. It’s true that I find myself watching romantic comedies where the plot is lacking and the ending is evitable. Why? The truth is that we are flawed people and the pure absurdity that

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076459176400336532004-02-10T19:25:00.000-05:002004-02-10T23:31:27.216-05:00

There are moments in each of our lives that we are overwhelmed by a sense of action that is directly driven by something primordial. People identify with that primal awareness as rage or lust more often than any other emotions. We have trained ourselves by the bindings of our culture to control these drives. Humankind keenly developed alcohol to provide the allowance for these emotions. We

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076449663480150022004-02-10T16:47:00.002-05:002004-02-10T19:24:44.716-05:00

Emotions sometimes surprise me. One lonely beastie I be in my tiny cell of an office at school, working entirely too hard after school on things that I can not decide on whether they have any real importance or not. I check my email. Procrastination has always led me down the path of success. My yahoo account informs that me that it is about to reach the absolute highest capacity of storage.

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076392743070254452004-02-10T00:40:00.000-05:002004-02-10T01:07:22.186-05:00

Several months ago when my mother decided to get new furniture she also announced that my cat needed to move back in with me. Her guardianship responsibilities had concluded. Not 24 hours back in my care, does my cat escape from the house. Normally, I would say screw it, she wants to go gallivanting around town then let her. Unfortunately, there are a couple of details that made this

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076364124285897712004-02-09T16:40:00.000-05:002004-02-09T17:11:31.810-05:00

I have a close friend that has a very strong opinion of cheerleading. He and I have the type of relationship that sometimes I find myself taking the opposing side for the vacuous desire to debate. Ordinarily I would not circum to his position but I was driving by a community center this afternoon and saw a squad of young girls practicing their latest routine. Memories of my own cheerleading

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076362580825824072004-02-09T16:30:00.000-05:002004-02-09T17:14:20.106-05:00

I am apparently feeling relatively introspective today. I want to fade into the sunset and imagine that all of this reality is gone. Perhaps, even claim a new existence. In a split second, I am flooded with philosophical discourse and a realization that it all means nothing. The vapid daily being that I participate in is lacking any great satisfaction. I stand alone attempting to receive

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076218280336503472004-02-08T00:30:00.000-05:002004-02-08T00:33:45.466-05:00

Recently, I was at a friend’s house having dinner and she mentioned going to a funeral. The minister that officiated the service did a nice job and as she praised him for this good will, he replied “Ya, that was a good time.” She was appalled and walked away. I thought to myself how someday when I die that I hope someone says the service was a good time. Death is part of life and it should be

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1076041842998109372004-02-05T23:16:00.000-05:002004-02-08T00:42:15.576-05:00

About once a month my ovaries decide that they are no longer happy in my body and it's time to get out of my abdomen. They must be arguing with each other and one of them decides to move out, then, physically exhausting pain sets in. Only after several hours of feeling faint do they realize that there is no way out. They are destined to live in proximity to each other for as long as possible. I

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1075433485104186622004-01-29T22:17:00.000-05:002004-01-29T22:34:57.090-05:00

For many years Taco Bell has been at the center of my dietary needs. In high school, my friends and I went to the nearest Bell, which was across town at the time, every afternoon. I remember being 15 and having my first taste of the luscious food. I was hooked. Matter of fact, when I went through my super Christian phase (which for me meant, hiding my smoking and drinking) I gave up Taco Bell for

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1075313313630597532004-01-28T12:42:00.000-05:002004-01-28T13:10:44.560-05:00

The State of the Union Most unions at some point reach a point of friction. The union between man and wife, brother and sister, even the actual union, our country. Every now again, we find ourselves in a point of friction in the union of friendship. Some believe that friendships develop simply out of circumstance or coincidence. That somehow in a certain a moment in time all the pieces fall

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1075066815569739812004-01-25T16:40:00.000-05:002004-02-09T09:55:31.246-05:00

God murdered my boyfriend. Step by step He took him away. He watched me suffer and didn’t care enough stop it. God killed Russ and now I stand alone. Russ was my puzzle piece that fit just right. Now I have to live my life knowing that the only man I have ever met that could accept my idiosyncracies is gone because God could not bare to see me happy. Life is a series of dilemmas that we solve

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6362534.post-1074700589921794482004-01-21T13:54:00.001-05:002004-02-09T09:58:09.670-05:00

I woke this morning not knowing why. Why do I need to get out of bed and go to work? Why do I need to put on a happy face and make it through yet another day filled with inconsequential actions? Why cant everyone's life be filled with carnivals, ice cream cake and music? Rationally, I know the answers to my not so deep questions. I need money to pay my bills and survive in this country. But the

christyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13781670779510514996noreply@blogger.com