MySpace Blogs March 2006 B

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Garbage
Category: Romance and Relationships

 

The Russells live in what the real estate agents would call a “charming, vintage” building.  It’s a lot older and it’s not very kept up. They live on the third floor.

There is a stairwell in the back from their apartment down past the other two and into the basement. It looks very much like an enclosed fire escape; wooden stairs, cement block walls, not many windows.  The back of the Russells apartment is their kitchen. Their kitchen, like most people’s, is where the majority of garbage accumulates. There is a tall garbage can and a tall recycle can. 

The huz is pretty good about taking out the garbage. He seems not to mind the walk down three flights outside and to the dumpster.  The Parakeet may have to get it bagged up sometimes. And she pretty much ALWAYS has to put the new bags in, but the Huz can get it to the dumpster.  Or so she thought.

When the Huz was in Panama, the Parakeet was cleaning somewhat maniacally.  She bagged up three bags of garbage and opened the back door to the creaky staircase.  She almost fell over at the sight that greeted her: a mound of garbage!  9 bags to be exact.  She made three trips down to the dumpster that morning, laughing all the way.  For maybe a month, that was the estimate she came up with based on the volume of trash, Huz had only been throwing the bags on to the back porch. 

She couldn’t even be mad, because it was so funny. All this time, she thought he was so helpful. 

When he returned from faraway lands, she wondered if it was even worth mentioning. As they were catching up, discussing their weeks, she casually said, “I took out nine bags of garbage while you were gone.” The color instantly rose in his cheeks. 

“Really?”  he smirked.

“uh-huh”  She replied.

“Well……..I was gonna…..I haven’t really been out there so much……”

And they just laughed.  Luckily, neither the Parakeet or the Huz are anywhere near the status of clean freak.  So, it was honestly, just too too funny. 

 

Monday, March 20, 2006

She Should Know…
Category: Food and Restaurants

 

She should know by now. She should know that it takes caffeine. When you don’t work ’till noon and you think you want to accomplish something in the morning, a good two cups of coffee are required.  This fact has been proven time and time again.

This morning the Parakeet dawdled, to use a word of her youth, like she had not dawdled in ages.  Since the Huz left well before seven for Toledo, Ohio, she did not even get out of bed until nearly 8:45.  Then, she did….oh nothing, until getting in the shower at 10:00. The shower was extremely long because she thought about everything she could do today, everything she might actually want to do today, and everything she HAD to do today.   She thought and got distracted and thought again and shaved her legs and thought and washed her hair and almost fell asleep resting her head on the windowsill and finally got out of the bathroom at 10:45!.  Then she gulped down the two cups of coffee, got dressed, blew her hair dry, packed a lunch, walked the dog and left for work by 11:10. 

The things we are capable of when the pressure is on.  The things we can do when we start with caffeine. IF the Parakeet had drank the two cups of coffee immediately upon waking, she would have made some adjustments to the pilot episode of her hit tv show, got a headshot in the mail to the Goodman, and protested a parking ticket she got last week.

Instead, she will think about those things….ALL….DAY…LONG.

 

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Intense
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

 

The Parakeet has to pee.  The only other female at her job took the key down to the trading floor. She must wait until 3:15.  If you note the time of this post, you will say, “oh, she only has 8 minutes…that’s fine.” Well, she first realized the key was missing at 1:45ish.  The time when she had finished a can of Diet Sprite.  Waiting on the key is starting to give her anxiety, which is unfortunate, because the Parakeet is prone to anxiety and didn’t need any help in that department. If you have ever felt nervous and just couldn’t sit still, you can relate to the Parakeet’s current predicament.

If any comments appear concerning certain incidents in the Parakeet’s past that may or may not pertain to the situation at hand, she will be forced to delete them. Consider yourself lucky to have heard those stories and mature enough not to share them. 

 

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

True Story
Category: Friends

 

The Parakeet went to school in Dallas, Texas. She grew up in Lake Mary, Florida.  The drive between the two is nearly 18 hours and alternates between hideous and gorgeous.  75N to Lake City, 10W forever through Pensacola, Mobile, New Orleans, 49N through northern Louisiana and st Shreveport you catch 20W into big D-town.  It’s a nice two day trip with a stop in Louisiana or Pensacola.

After finishing her first year, the Parakeet had planned to spend the summer back in Lake Mary with the folks.  The folks decided they wanted to take a trip to Northern California. Fine. So…the Parakeet needed to get herself home.  After much discussion and unnecessary complications, it was decided that Dad and the Parakeet’s dear friend (let’s call him Don’t forget to Write – I hear that’s what he goes by these days) would drive up in the minivan. Dad would fly to Cali from Dallas and Parakeet, along with Don’t forget to Write, would drive home together. Road Trip! This was gonna be awesome.

They loaded the minivan full with stuff and headed out east on 20.  Times were good. Much laughter filled the vehicle.  But Don’t Forget to Write was always having to pee. The Parakeet comes from a ‘don’t-stop-driving-until-the-tank’s-empty’ family, so she was giving him a hard time.  Somewhere in Louisianna, but almost to Slidell, Don’t Forget to Write had to pee. They had stopped only 20 minutes earlier.  With fake rage, the Parakeet swung the minivan into a parking spot at a gas station and hit one of those concrete poles that sticks up so you won’t hit the curb. Fairly hard. 

The two of them, experienced mechanics and auto-body experts, looked at the headlight hanging from it’s socket.  The wires were still connected, but it swung loosely, a casualty from the collision.  The consensus was –shove the thing back in place. 

They pulled back on to the highway and started discussing how the “broken-light” situation should be handled with the Parakeet’s family.  Just as they decided maybe the best idea would be to say that someone hit them in a parking lot; they just happened on the damage–the light flew out of the car bumping behind them on the interstate. 

The Parakeet flipped.  And not in a giggly, nervous way.  Knowing her father and his habits with fixing cars and picking up discarded hubcaps, she did not want to go home without the light. She was also sure the light flew out of the car because God was letting her know that it was not good to lie to your parents. 

She pulled off the interstate and looped around to come back the other direction.  Then, she requested (that’s a nicer word than what actually happened) that Don’t Forget to Write run through traffic on the highway to pick up the renegade auto part.  Being the amazing friend that he is, he did just that. They drove home the rest of the way almost without incident.  (The gas cap was left in Mobile, but easily replaced). 

Mom and Dad were pretty understanding. They were, after all, fresh off a trip to Napa. The Parakeet was able to replace the light from a junkyard for about $70, which wasn’t fun in college, but definitely not the end of the world.

The Parakeet hadn’t talked to Don’t Forget to Write in over two years.  He remains a close friend of the family, though, and was able to visit Chicago last weekend.  They had so much fun catching up. It was really great.  In a spontaneous moment of fun, which is known to happen often when Don’t Forget to Write is around, they spent an afternoon ‘flying’ at the Chicago Flyhouse.  If you’d like to see pictures of that, just shoot the Parakeet a message and she’ll get you a link.

The moral of the story is ‘Don’t even think about lying to your parents unless you have a friend good enough to run through highway traffic for you’.

 

Thursday, March 23, 2006

First time in Eight Days
Category: Sports

 

The Parakeet, for nearly eight years, has been quite into fitness. It’s general that way; she has tried all types of things; kick-boxing, running, cardio machines, weightlifting classes, yoga, pilates, bike riding.  There was a brief attempt at swimming laps, but after ten minutes it appeared either an asthma or heart attack was imminent. Plus, her eyes were burning and she looks twelve years old in a one-piece bathing suit.

She likes exercise. She likes working out. For six of the last eight years, she has put a mark on a calendar whenever she completes at least 30 min of activity that day. This is why she is acutely aware of how long it has been since the last workout. She has gone through phases of writing down exactly what she does and grading it, but even the Parakeet has learned to give a little over time.  Those types of charts didn’t make her feel any better anyway. And while she has been called up-tight, anal, or even obssessive in her day, the truth is she isn’t those things, she just wishes she was.  Dear God, give her routine.

Last week was a busy one for the Parakeet and she didn’t make it to the gym. She had one 40 min walk in her neighborhood, which was nice, and one night of squats, dips, ab work, etc. in front of the tv – which was pathetic. 

So, this week, out of the routine, it has been difficult for her to get the expanding booty to the gym.  She made excuse after excuse; monday, tuesday, and even Wednesday when TWICE she got dressed for the gym, but just didn’t quite make it (a twenty minute wait on the bus and then a phone call).  This morning, however, there was no stopping her. The guilt alone got her out of bed and the gym bag packed.

She went to the Bally’s Downtown –not her favorite for reasons too numerous to mention.  She pedaled her little self on the elliptical for 35 minutes, stretched, did some crunches, then showered and changed for work.

People, IT FELT GREAT.  This was not first-time-back-at-the-gym pain. This was I’m-happy-to-be-alive-my-anxiety-is-melting-away pain.

The Parakeet endorses exercise.  Big time. 

 

Monday, March 27, 2006

cliffhanger
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

Sorry for the cliffhanger.  The Parakeet is trying to negotiate her salary at her day job. She does not ask for things well. It always takes her two weeks to ask for a day off.  She has been there for nearly two and a half years and hasn’t had a raise, mostly because she hasn’t asked.  The thing is that she is willing to leave the job this time, so it’s important. She’s not seeing the perks she use to see and it’s starting to just not be worth it. That’s too many details already. What happened is only one partner of the company was present today, so she couldn’t get an answer from him…She will have to wait until the other one comes back into work:  maybe Wednesday?  The great thing about today, however, is that the Parakeet stood up for herself and asked for what she feels she deserves. We’ll see where that gets her at the end of the week……

8:48 AM 2 Comments4 KudosAdd CommentEdit Remove

Rockin
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

 

The Parakeet’s world is a rockin.  There may be big changes ahead. Currently, she is quite nervous regarding a conversation that will take place at work in about two and a half hours.

She had a hilarious time auditioning for a music video on Friday and thought that may be something worth sharing, but then her world started rockin.

So..more on all of this later. More to come, my friends, more to come.

 

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Funny on Film
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

 

The Parakeet will be playing a massage therapist in a short film where one of her lines will be “That’s not the only stiffness I relieve with massage.”

Don’t think about it too long.

And don’t worry, she only ends up using tickle torture to get a mob informant to fess up, nothing too dirty

 

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

There are days..
Category: Romance and Relationships

 

Last night the Parakeet and the Huz watched American Idol together. This is not a ritual or anything, but they are opinionated people who enjoy weighing in with America on who can and can’t sing and how they look doing it.  For the record, they did not find last night to be particulary impressive.  Speaking from experience, the Parakeet thought that Kathryn McPhee started out rocky and couldn’t ever get herself totally confident. She looked scared, but Randy, Paula and Simon all disagreed, so believe what you will.

What merits mentioning more than America’s favorite game show is that the Huz and the Parakeet had so much fun together last night. They were chasing each other around the house, cracking each other up, fake fighting.  It’s like they were twelve-years old or something. Even the dog couldn’t keep up with their energy. 

The Parakeet is excitable. Those of you who are familiar with her hyper-attacks are well aware of this fact. There was a point in the evening after she attempted to literally climb on the Huz, that he put his hands on her shoulders and started inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly; willing on her the power of calm. But she kept laughing so hard and repeating “Let’s Play, Let’s play” that even the Huz began to laugh, too. But he was right to slow her down a bit because she had reached hysterical bordering on hyperventilating.

When they finally went to bed, the Parakeet asked the Huz, “Tell me something you remember about us dating”.  He indulged her with a story from five years ago, a picture really, of the two of them on New Year’s Eve when they found snow exciting (because they were in Dallas and snow is not a six-month event).  Hearing the thought made her smile. She warmed at memories of the beginning of their life together and fell asleep knowing there were so many more good times to come.

 

Thursday, March 30, 2006

something cold.
Category: Romance and Relationships

 

Throughout the winter there is a ritual to sleeping at the Russell house and it usually involves a space heater, flannel sheets, a down comforter and the Parakeet pushing her ice-cold toes all over the Huz. He occasionally permits this, but usually says something like “Woman, your feet are freezing –stop that.”  He will even reject hugs when they begin with cold fingers on his back.  The Parakeet can do little to change her body temperature. It is what it is.

Luckily, we are having some Spring weather these days. But, for some reason, last night, The Parakeet got a chill.  She just couldn’t warm up. It  might have had something to do with the fact that the Huz had decided they did not need the heat on, but that is a different story.

At about 10PM as the Huz was in the kitchen looking for a snack, the Parakeet snuck behind him to give him a big hug with her COLD HANDS moving up his shirt. The Huz turned around and flipped out.
“Don’t do that, why do you do that?” Rah, rah, rah. 

The Parkeet couldn’t stop laughing and putting her cold hands on any exposed skin; cheeks, wrists, etc.  In a moment of total absurdity, the Huz opened the freezer, took out an ice tray and gave the Parakeet a look of total mischieviousness.  She couldn’t get even three feet away before he had grabbed her saying “You like that, huh?” and shoved the tray of ice cubes down the back of her pants.  That’s right.  COLD BUTT.

After not even a full minute of screaming and uncontrollable laughter, the Parakeet admitted defeat and took her freezing butt to the couch to get under a blanket or five.  POUT CENTRAL.  The Huz was completely satisfied. Or at least his smirk suggested as much.

The Russell family secret is that those ice cubes went right back in the freezer. Want to come over for lemonade?

 

Friday, March 31, 2006

update
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

 

Well, the Parakeet had her big meeting with the bosses today. It was totally unresolved.  She will do what she does for now.  She will be given notice if they decide to eliminate her position. What’s a working girl to do? 

On the up side, the Parakeet has received more and more confirmation that acting is her calling.  She will be shooting a music video tomorrow and a short film mid-May.  The calls for these jobs both came on days when she had big ‘discussions’ with her bosses.  God works in mysterious ways. 

Sorry there are no funny anecdotes.  The Parakeet had to use a ‘big-girl’ voice today for far longer than she usually likes to.

 

Monday, April 03, 2006

L-O-S-T
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

 

So, the Parakeet and the Huz received season one of a certain emmy-winning show a few weeks ago. They finally put Disc one in last Wednesday or Thursday night.  They can not stop watching.  The Parakeet is seriously nervous for when they finish the season. How will she wait for season 2 on DVD? How will sleep not knowing if Jack and Kate get together? Or if Hurley is going to tell people why he thinks everything’s his fault? 

What’s going on with ABC lately? I mean, Grey’s and Lost!  The Parakeet has NEVER anticipated a show or tried to make sure she was home for something on tv.  It’s a new feeling for her….a new feeling, people.

Here’s to the last disc of Season One.  Tension and Drama await. 

Cheers!

 

 

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