Priority.

Crippling Ice and Snow.

What has two thumbs and is stranded in Oklahoma because of an ice storm?

This girl!

I lucked out in that I got stranded at Chelsey's house. Last night to celebrate ICE STORM 09, we destroyed some Lost Lake (a ridiculously cheap pilsner from Wisconsin that I've only seen in OK) as well as an entire large cheese pizza. That delivery guy risked his life for our pizza. And for that, I am forever grateful.

So, not quite sure when I'll make it out. Probably won't be today. I haven't seen a single car try to tackle the road right outside Chelsey's apartment.

My interview went okay. I felt really nervous and unprepared. 2 minutes after I walked in the building to interview, the power went out. So, I did my interview in the dark. That was exciting.

This postcard was pretty much the only reason I made it out the door on Sunday. I was seriously considering blowing off the interview. I'm not quite sure what all this means now that I'm iced in...

Man. I'd do just about anything for a breakfast burrito right now.

Dur, 5:53am.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeee!


ohai!

Happy Birthday, Momma!

Alone in my Principles.

I've always remembered this picture. Regardless of the house we lived in, my mom always had a print of it on the wall. Wikipedia tells us that "Christina's World" depicts Christina Olson, one of Wyeth's neighbors in Cushing, Maine, who had an undiagnosed muscular deterioration that paralyzed her lower body, possibly polio. Wyeth was visiting the Olson house, looked out through a window and saw Christina crawling across a field, which inspired him to make the painting. I guess Mom's always been connected to it, for somewhat obvious reasons.

When I visited the MOMA, I was almost out the door, in the store looking for a postcard to send my mom, when I saw a postcard of Christina. Of course, the MOMA had it. I went back into the museum and found it; sat by it for a good 20 minutes.

The nice part about creating something like that is that it'll always be around.


In 2005, Wyeth painted this, of his manager and wife of 56 years, Betsy. Even though Wyeth wanted it to be titled "Betsy's World", but his wife refused. He called it "Other World" instead.

Anyway, just some things.

Job's gotten better. I feel a little better, after making some friends and getting back into a groove. I also like knowing that it's only 60 days. However, the Railrunner really hasn't gotten any better. 4 major delays in 4 straight days, all days that I was planning on riding. They better get that straightened out, because there is no way I'm parking at the Capitol. Ya hear?

Start all over again.

What a day. Pretty much all I want to do is collapse in a pile of misery.

There's just something about being in an office environment that makes me want to throw my head through a wall. I walked around my new job today and saw all the empty desks, waiting for me and the other temp's to fill them. It disgusted me. I could barely stand it, barely keep it together. I spent 8 months wearing dress pants and a fake smile. Fact is, I don't think I can fake it any more.

Maybe it was just the shock of being thrown into that world again, maybe it was the anxiety and the lack of sleep. But maybe, that's just not what I'm built to do. I don't feel like Cat, or even Catherine, when I'm in situations like that. I don't like the person I become in a professional office. God, I'd give absolutely anything to have my ice-cold perch in the Golden West back.

After almost a year of searching, I finally have an interview in Oklahoma on the 26th. It's a better office job. But even hearing the word "office" automatically makes me resent it. (But that, and the insecurities that come along with leaving New Mexico belong in a whole other blog.)

I know I need to give it time, it'll probably get easier. But, I really did promise myself that I wouldn't settle for a job any more. I want to wake up and be excited to go to work. It really does seem like a simple request, but so few people actually get that opportunity. I honestly don't know how one goes about that anymore.

Crank.

Kyle made a new friend today.

I hope I make new friends tomorrow. Welcome me back to the work force. This is not something I'm excited about at all. But, I know that being negative about it makes it no easier. So tomorrow, I'm going to try to hold up my head high, in my $11 JC Penney dress pants, take the Railrunner to Santa Fe, and try to have a open mind.

Did I mention I have to wake up at 5:15am tomorrow?

Optimism's a cruel girl.

These stirring tunes of the Lord have made me want to dance.

Why I love the El Rey:


Dancing.


Daniel.


Drunk boyfriend.


Deviant behavior.


More dancing.


More Daniel.


And A-Ha.

You know, sometimes I really hate my job. Sometimes it really gets me down. But most of the time, I absolutely love it.

Leper colonies.

Well, gross. OU lost. Not only did they lose, but I watched them lose in the company of a ravenous Florida fan, who promptly told Sam Bradford to "go back to the reservation" after he made a good play. My boyfriend defended my football honor. It was absolutely precious.

On a more important note, I got one them fancy jobs you people brag about. EXCITING!!!! But (and there's always a catch) it's in Santa Fe, so I'll be commuting north 5 days a week. Also, it only lasts 60 days. But, it's something. And it's good experience for the good ol' resume. Not sure if I can blog about it, since I haven't been officially hired yet. So, I won't say much. But, let's think about it. A job in Santa Fe. That only lasts 60 days. And it starts at the beginning of a new year. HMMMM.

I have decided in my INFINITE music wisdom to compile what I define as great love songs into one playlist. I'm trying my best to make it as universal as possible; not just adding songs that I've attached to personal relationships. Sure, there's indie rock wedding standby's like Death Cab's "I Will Follow You into the Dark", but most of them are more on par with the Eel's "Not Ready Yet" and "Cautioners" by Jimmy Eat World. Songs more about personal insecurities and challenges than the mushy gut feelings you get over being with someone for forever. I'm not quite sure what that says about my perception of love. Maybe it just means I love honest music.

I stubbed the crap out of my toe tonight at Brickyard. Like, toenails' severed sort of stubbing. Grump.

Everything will change.

I just went into iTunes to start a specifically weepy playlist, only to find I had deleted that playlist. It made me smile a lot.

Recalculating.

Before I start talking about my recent trip to Denver, I need to tell you about the level of intelligence that was in that car. 6 college degrees, two more in process. 2 paralegals. 2 former federal employees. 2 graduates of Albuquerque Academy. Like, gave new meaning to the term "smart car".

Now, watch this and know that it was the single, most hysterical moment of our lives.




I think I've turned going to Denver into some sort of hobby. Really, I'm a bit confused. Because, truth be told, I don't like Denver much at all. But, I sure do seem to go there a lot. And I have fun every time I go. Does that mean I like Denver?

No.

We, being Kyle, Tom, Marky, Alexis and myself went to D-Town to see Flogging Molly and the Aggrolites at the Fillmore, which might be my favorite venue in the world (there's a lot of them I have yet to see). We left last Monday, stayed the night in Colorado Springs, went to the show on Tuesday and drove back on New Years Eve.


We stayed with Tom's uncle in Springs. And since his uncle's a Maloof AND the head golf coach at the Air Force Academy, his neighborhood looked like this. Or, the sort of neighborhood crazy people snatch up little blonde girls, as I so poetically deemed it. Tom's uncle had a giant and fantastic chocolate lab named Maverick. Best dog in dog world. Most dogs think they're people. Some dogs even think they're cats. But Maverick knew he was a dog. He liked it and he was good at it.


We had some time to kill in Denver before the show, so we went to Casa Bonita. Trust me, it's just as awesome and horrible as you can imagine.



Cliff Divers.


This is Tom, sort of excited about gordita. And Alexis, not excited about beef taco. And Mark, really excited about tequila.


And this is the Jonderpool Holiday Photo, 2008.

After Bonita, we decided we needed beer. And we needed to take Tom on his family spirit quest (walkabout!) to the Coors Brewery in Golden. After driving allllll the way out there, we find out they're closed on Tuesdays. Now, Tom will never know who he truly is.


So, we went to the Denver Art Museum instead.

This giant sculpture had a plaque with it, describing what was and was not okay to do to the broom and dust pan, that said things like: Taking your picture with the broom is okay. Chatting with the broom about cleaning products is okay. Blaming the broom for the degradation of contemporary morals is okay. Caressing the broom is not okay. No, really.

About the time we finished looking at art (and completely ignoring the Native American sections, because really, can Denver teach me anything about Native American art that I can't learn at home? No. The answer is no.) it was time to head for the Fillmore. This is about the time I start to get super paranoid. Because this is about the time in my last trip to see Flogging Molly at the Fillmore that everything went horribly wrong. Between myself and Marky, I think we analyzed every, single thing that could possibly go wrong. I was checking out hotels in the area. I even asked Tom how good the insurance policy on his car was.

Luckily, after a few plastic cups of High Life on an empty stomach, I was pretty content with things. The show was almost exactly what I expected. For the most part, no one understood Rev. Peyton's Big Damn Band or the Aggrolites, but our little group danced away, regardless. See, Denver's got a lot of bro's. Like, BRO'S. BRAHS, even. And brahs think Flogging Molly's the shit. So, I went in expecting that no one would get the openers. And that everyone would be insane for F-Molly. And they were. If any band in the world deserves a crazy crowd, it's Flogging Molly. They put on one hell of a show. But, even though it goes against the fundamental basics of punk rock, there are certain, universal rules of etiquette at punk rock shows. And Rule #1 is, when someone falls down you pick them up. And when this rule isn't followed, things get dangerous pretty quick. So, after having about 7 white hats pile on top of me, and no one help me up, I decided that the bar was a great place to watch the show. Maybe I'm old. But, I still had fun.

We stayed the night with Bill, the former bass player of Half-Stache and one of my favorite people in the world. But that also meant we had to be up and on the road by 7:30. We barely made it. We stopped for gas at the Denver Tech Center and searched down breakfast. I think we were all dreading the thoughts of McDonalds or some sort of fast food, thanks to Casa Bonita's fine cuisine from the previous day. But, we located a blessed Einsteins.


Really?

Ride home was uneventful. I rode shotgun or drove for most of it, which made me iPod master, a role I very much enjoy. We got home in enough time for me to nap before heading out for New Years Eve.

But, the moral of the blog is, CURSE BROKEN, BITCHES. The worst thing that happened on the trip was sleep deprivation. So, do I like Denver now? Now that the curse is off?

No.

Dove of Hope.

In 2008, I lost 4 good friends.









Luckily, none of them were human.

Luck. It's taken me a while to see the luck in a lot of what happened in 2008. For the most part, I just felt deeply unfortunate. I tried really hard to not let myself wallow in what happened, to pick myself up. I think that for the most part, I did okay. But, it was all still sitting there, like a big lump on my brain. And while I'd love to say that the clock rolling over to another year allows me to put it all behind me, I know there's still giant steps I've got to get past. And luckily, I've got a fantastic group of friends and family to help me along. I am grateful to all of you, you know who you are, but I don't think you realize just how much you do. I still re-read all the comments on the entries I wrote about Annie's death once in a while when I'm feeling down; I really wish I would have saved all the text messages I got on the day of the fire. Big ol' sentimental, melodramatic hugs all around.


Here's something irresponsible: I bought a new point and shoot. Well, Kyle paid for half of it (Merry Yule) and it was an open box value at Circuit City. Hard to turn down. And I'm pretty happy to have a new, constant companion. Her first out of town trip was to see Flogging Molly and The Aggrolites in Denver this weekend, so I named her Molly.

Oh yeah, I went to Denver with Marky for the fourth time in a year. It was hilarious. Blog, photos, and offensive mpegs coming soon... (once I figure out why Molly isn't showing up as an external drive...)