Archive | August, 2009

A head full of snot and a heart full of dreams

25 Aug

So generally, I try to curb the amount of complaining I do. I know this will come as a shock to many. But really, I do try to not be a whiny bastard all the time. I try to appreciate the little (and big) things, but I never claimed to be perfect. So I’m venting. This is what’s chapping my hide (yeah I said it), right now:

1) Allergies.
They are the stupid, snotty, stupid, itchy, stupid, exhausting, stupid bane of my existence right now. On the upside, they’re pretty much making smoking impossible right now.

2) Foot blisters.

Not mine specifically, put pretty damn close.

I went hiking a couple of weekends ago and, like an idiot, wore boots that hadn’t been used in a few years. The resulting heel blisters were large and exceptionally painful, but are now (thankfully) mostly healed.

This is not being helped by the pea gravel that persists on lodging itself in my shoe during recess duty.

3) When I walk around all day with pen/marker on my face and nobody says anything.

But, in a flailing effort at balance, here are things that are making me stupidly happy today:

Honeycomb Cereal

The Rainy, rainy weather

Built to Spill
They’re so cute and old and weird looking! Oh, and massively talented.

And now that that’s out of my system, I think I’m for a very sneezy walk with the dog!

First Saturday in quite some time

15 Aug

So I am currently enjoying my first Saturday that’s actually felt like a Saturday in months. I worked yesterday, I work Monday, there was drinking and pizza and Flight of the Concords and Ryan being unintentionally hilarious last night.
Which means that, last night when I got home from work determined to be productive and crafty, well, it totally didn’t happen. So that’s the plan for today. Productivity damnit! Which, in Caitlyn terms, means finally unpacking the last few lingering boxes, hanging the wall decor and getting a start on -gasp!- lesson plans.
I’ll reward myself tonight with alcohol at the show I’m going to with my oh-so-dreamy gentleman caller. He opens doors for me and everything, though that may just be because his car’s passenger door wo
n’t open from the inside. Still, though.

Here’s a list of things that are making me happy today:

1) It’s starting to feel more like fall.

2) Things like buttered Pop-Tarts and coffee with copious amounts of flavored creamer.
3) My toenails are painted red and the blisters I acquired hiking with David and Ryan finally seem to be healing, no doubt aided by the Incredible Hulk Band-Aids I’ve got on.
4) I really, really love my new apartment.
5) My new principal at work seems to be kicking ass. Which is awesome.

Basque is trying to say hello to everyone, or trying to get me to pay more attention to her by rubbing her head all over the keyboard. Home girl needs a b-a-t-h.

Introductions, shall we?

14 Aug

This is a blog about magic. And wonder. And whimsy. And impulsiveness. And appreciating small things that make me inordinately happy. Which, as it turns out, is what the title, “Ricky Still Loves Lulu”, is actually about.

On southbound I-25, in between Ft. Collins and Denver, there are numerous spots where you go under train bridges. On one such bridge, for several years, was a piece of graffiti that I found particularly fascinating. The letters were clearly visible, even though they obviously weren’t new. They were also highly legible, a rare case of street art where the message is more important than the font in which it’s conveyed.

Years passed with me not really thinking about these words, except when I drove under them. Then in high school, my curiosity grew as I began driving to Denver more frequently. So I asked around. Turns out that several decades ago, this kid Ricky proposed to his girlfriend, Lulu, by spray-painting “Ricky Loves Lulu” on the side of the bridge that I’d been driving under for so long. Then, years later for their anniversary, Ricky, no longer in the bloom of youth, sneaks back out to the same bridge, with a similar message.

Ricky Still Loves Lulu.

I don’t know how much of that’s actually true, but I’m happier believing it is.