Tag Archives: memories


I did it!  I made it through The Blog Every Day in May challenge.  This month just FLEW by.  I would like to thank Jenni for encouraging me to write, and everyone who read my amazing BUT shitty writing.  You are the best!  Well, I am the best, but you are a close second.  I am patting myself on the back so hard I might as well be in Opus Dei.  Today’s prompt is “A Vivid Memory”. I have many vivid memories, Jenna Jameson, before she looked like Skeletor, did a lot of her best work for Vivid.  YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?  Since it is the very last day of the challenge, I feel like celebrating. So, I will regale you of the tale of how Chad and I met.

I met Chad when I was 18 years old.  I was young, skinny, and pretty smashable. I was attending the local community college and really coming into my own, both personality and fashion wise.  That is if wearing an Iggy Pop shirt, plaid blazer, and red cowboy boots all the time counts as fashionable.  (It does.)  I was taking a Television Production class and I really liked it!  Specifically because I had a huge crush on my TA, Jeremy.  He was nice and funny, and had multiple piercings in his ears. I had just gotten out of a relationship ( if you could call it that) with a guy who literally moved away without telling me.  So Jeremy was a breath of fresh air, except he had a girlfriend.  That didn’t keep me from still crushing on him of course, and despite my unrequited affections, we became friends.


Two friends, just palling around in a tree, like normal people do.

Jeremy was always telling me that I needed to meet his best friend Chad, who lived in California, and I was always like “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh hey, are you still with you girlfriend?”.  The answer was always yes, and for the brief period it wasn’t yes, he still wasn’t interested.  Soon enough, Spring Break rolled around, which I looked at as an opportunity to spend more time with Jeremy.  I was thrilled when he asked for my number and asked  if I wanted to hang out that evening.

I sat at home waiting by phone expectantly, like I was fucking Vikki Carr or some shit, and when the phone finally rang and his name was on the caller ID, I thought I was JUST GOING TO DIE.   I answered the phone in the way that only an infatuated teen girl could do, with a breathless, yet practiced, but restrained, “~Hello~.”  Despite what the caller ID said, Jeremy was not on the other end.  The person on the other end had a stutter, and managed after some time, to spit out, “D-d-d-ddo you want-t-t to h-h-hang out wit-t-t-h us t-t-tttonight?”  I said yes straight away because I was eager to hang out with my crush.  It would take more than a stutterer to keep me away from my beloved. No offense to stutterers of course.

I was ecstatic, eeeeeeeee hangouts!  I ran around my parent’s house like a chicken with its head cut off.  What should I wear? What did I wear?  That I don’t remember, but I remember being so excited that I thought my heart was going to pump right out of my fucking chest.  Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the doorbell rang.  I swung open the door expecting to see Jeremy, and he wasn’t there.  It was someone else.  He was tall, had blond hair, was wearing a fake sheepskin jacket even though it wasn’t very cold, and was holding a raspberry Tootsie Roll Pop.  He handed me the Tootsie Roll Pop, and read me this poem:


It was Chad, visiting from LA, and it was love at first sight.  It turns out that on the way to my house, Jeremy and Chad had decided that Chad and I were going on a blind date, without telling me.  Before Chad even met me, he wrote me a poem. He rhymed my name with jetty, and I loved it. I was immediately charmed.  It was like,  “Jeremy, who?”  I don’t remember where we went that evening, on our first “date”, other than we went to the two-story Whataburger in downtown Corpus.  He made a big show of  buying me white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie and purposely said cheesy lines like, “No cookie could ever be as sweet as you.”  When the evening ended, I wanted Chad to kiss me, but he didn’t.

The next evening he pulled up to my house on his dad’s motorcycle wanting to take me on a ride. My grandma wouldn’t let me go! (What!?!) So we just sat in my parents’ living room and listened to records.  Our first dance ever was to Roy Orbison’s version of “Blue Bayou”.  I remember he was wearing a purple button up shirt that was a little too big for him and I didn’t like it.  I asked  why he didn’t kiss me the first date, and he said that he wanted to be cool and just walk away like Maverick in Top Gun.  Later that evening, I got my kiss.  But only one, he had to be cool.

handsome chad

We went out the next night.  We saw the Toadies play, then we made out in his old VW Bug that used to be pink but  he had spray painted orange.  I showed him my boobs, and then we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  We were inseparable  for the duration of his trip.  I met his parents and he met mine. When he flew back to California, it was one of the saddest days of my life.  We talked on the phone every day. He wrote me fanciful letters, filled with poems and drawings.  I still have them all.  The distance was quite hard.  Blessedly, my parents could tell I had it BAD, and they actually let me fly out to California to visit him a couple times, and he made frequent trips to Texas that started lasting longer and longer in their duration.


I used to wear blazers a lot.

One day he asked me to marry him, and I did.  This October it will be ten years.  He may not look like a 70’s rock star anymore, but he is still very handsome, and I love him.  He is an excellent father, and can grow a magnificent beard.  We are still friends with Jeremy, and he ended up marrying the lovely Raquel, the girlfriend I always pestered him about. They are happy and have three lovely kids.  He played a medley of “Wild Thing” and “Crazy Train” at our wedding. I do not have a crush on him anymore.

jeremy chad

Jeremy and Chad by the bathroom George Michael got caught in. (JK)

I might be a bit biased, but I think that Chad and I have one of the best “how we met” stories ever, and it makes me happy to reminisce.  Legitimate love at first sight, HELLO!  I hope everyone appreciated this rare display of emotion/affection from me.  Lick it up, because it doesn’t happen often.  I thank you for sticking with me throughout this challenge.  I am pretty proud that I finished, and finished strong, LIKE A BOSS. Like a fucking boss.


A current picture. ❤

P.S. OH SNIP SNAP! This is my 100th post!  I deserve a slice of pizza.

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Now in 3-D!

Sike.  I missed Saturday and Sunday’s blog challenges because I was too busy leading a life of leisure, so I am throwing three posts, that’s right, THREE POSTS in one RIGHT INTO YOUR FACE.  Let’s get started before I get fatigued.

Day 18, Tell a Story from Your Childhood:

For some reason I think I am supposed to write about a sad moment from my childhood, because the challenge said to “dig deep” and remember details and what I ~felt~.  Well, tough shit.  As I am a human being, I did experience some sad times during my childhood, because who didn’t?  Jeez.  Instead I am going to talk about some of my favorite ~sisterly~ memories.  I have two sisters, my oldest sister is named Lisa, and she has hazel eyes.  My middle sister is named Erica, and she is the Mexican Reese Witherspoon.  There is an 11 year difference between Erica and I, so growing up was awesome because it was almost like I was an only child, except I had teenage girls to entertain me.

Erica was a bit of an enigma to me when I was really young.  She was popular, on the high school drill team, and had her own thing going on.  Her room was off limits.  My older sister Lisa was kinda like a second mom to me.  She used to wake me up in the mornings and help me get ready for school.  This was not an easy task.  I am not what one would call a morning person as mornings are for suckers.  I have very vivid memories of her brushing the tangles out of my hair and brusquely pulling it back in a ponytail while I shrieked the entire time.

One time when Lisa came to pick up from kindergarten, all of my classmates and I were standing around the flagpole waiting for our rides.  When Lisa walked up to come get me, everyone screamed and ran away because I had told them that she was “the meanest girl in town.”  Eh, she wasn’t really all that bad, on the days that we had a particularly rough time leaving the house in the morning, she would take me to get donuts holes and chocolate milk on the way to school.  That is worth a million bucks to a 6 year old.

I never wanted to go to bed when I was a kid, I always thought I was going to miss out on something.  My parents were pretty lax with my bedtime and often times I would get the opportunity to hang out with my sisters and their friends.  When they got tired of me hanging around, my sisters told me if I didn’t go to bed they were going to turn out all the lights and the cockroaches would get me. Thanks, guys. Erica had a high school boyfriend that I really loved.  His name was Jesse and his mom was a veterinarian so he had all sorts of awesome pets at his house.  He was really sweet to me and would draw pictures of Ninja Turtles for me and took to me to meet former San Antonio Spur, Sean Elliott.  A few times Erica and Jesse took me to the jetties with them to wade and collect things for his salt water aquarium.  I specifically remember him having a sea anemone in his aquarium and watching it eat was simultaneously awesome AND gross.  Jesse also helped me make school projects because even in the 3rd grade I was a huge slacker.  He helped me make a diorama for my Kareem Abdul Jabbar report (I guess I was into basketball at the time???) and a sweetass sea otter marionette out of paper bags.   I wanted her to marry him, but she said he was too immature for her.  I can’t imagine what would make her think that.

In general, I have great big sisters.  But, because they were so much older, and because they were a part of my family, they had a bit of a mean streak.  They enjoyed teasing me, and would sometimes play jokes on me.  One time we took a family vacation to Monterrey, Mexico, and somehow we forgot my suitcase at home.  My parents had to buy me all new clothes in Mexico.  My sisters took this as an opportunity to tell me that with my new Mexican wardrobe and because I was sooo BROWN that I was indistinguishable from any other Mexican kid selling chicle, and they would never let me back over the US/Mexican border.  I cried. Excellent work sisters, excellent work. ::HIGH FIVE::

My sisters helped shape who I am today, and I love them for it.  Here is a picture of little Letty for your enjoyment:

Damn, I was cute.

Day 19, 5 of my Favorite Blogs:

This one is easier.  I probably could have done it yesterday, but I was too busy reading Sookie Stackhouse novels (don’t hate) and playing Game of Thrones Ascent. I already mentioned my girl Kolleen, so I going to share some other blogs that I enjoy reading.


First off damn, I gotta hawk my own shit. Thirtysometeen is great.  It is a guilty pleasure paradise.  I often go back and read our recaps of Degrassi, Skins, and other teen shows and laugh my ass off.  God, we are funny.  We have some more recaps coming up soon, even more embarrassing stories from our readers, plus my fake bro Matthew is partaking in Saved by the Bell Roulette, where he has to recap an episode we picked randomly for him.  Good stuff is coming!

I love reading my friend Lauren’s Blog, It’s Me…The LD.  Her writing is hilarious and full of heart.  She goes from sharing lovely stories from her past to posting Beyonce videos, and that is something that I can really get behind.  I find her everyday adventures engaging, and I could not be more excited for her wedding in October.

My lovely friend Chloe has a wonderful blog called Stitch in the Sea.  She is so inspirational!  In addition to being a tall drink of water, she is a wonderful step parent to two freakishly cute twin boys, and is creative and immaculately dressed to boot.  Stitch in the Sea is a one stop shop for cooking, crafting, AND fashion. Seriously, check her shit out.  I could not recommend it more.  Also, you can purchase some of her awesome, sassy embroidery from her Etsy shop, Stich in the Sea.

I am blessed to know a number of truly funny and skilled writers, and my friend Lola is one of them.  Her blog, Composing Lola, is filled with delightful illustrations and clever anecdotes.  If I could write like anyone, it would be Lola.  I briefly had the pleasure to write with her at our not yet failed parenting blog, Contractually Obligated, and I look forward to her reviving it!  Please write more Lola, the public (me) demands it!

Last but not least, I have to give my childhood best friend Nicole a shout out.  She blogs over at Unfinished Bidness.  She is a new blogger, but is already a skilled and engaging writer.  Head over to her site and give her some encouragement!

BONUS! I highly recommend you read Michelle Mirsky’s essays, No Fear of Flying: Kamikaze Missions in Death, Sex, and Comedy, over at McSweeney’s.  They are heartbreaking and hilarious, and I am in awe of her talent.

Day 20, Get, Real.  Something I Am Struggling With:

This prompt aggravates me. What does “get real” even mean?   Is what I write not considered “real”  just because I choose to keep my topics light hearted and complain about superficial things?  I don’t think that makes what I write any less “real”.  My stupidness is spread far and wide for everyone to see.  While I may not tug at your heartstrings,  I WILL tug at your fartstrings.

That being said, I guess I will try to be legit and talk about something I am kinda struggling with.  Lately I have been feeling a little concerned that I am not spending enough time with Truman.  I mean, I know I’m a good mother, but recently I feel like I have a been a bit selfish with my ME time.  Let’s not get excited now, the boy is not neglected in the least.  I spend PLENTY of time with him, and the kid is slathered with attention.  Just Monday-Friday, I could probably take more time out to read a couple more books or build a really bitchin’ lego tower with him.  When I’m cooking, instead of getting irritated by him stepping on my toes, I could pick him up so he can see what I am doing.  It’s a quick fix really.  That’s why it’s a just minor concern.

Not to change subject but you know, Chad is a  great father and husband, and I am grateful everyday that he supports me in my stupid endeavors.  He knows that I while I don’t have a crazy active social life, it’s important for me to leave the house and hang out with other bozos every once in a while. I gotta say, I am one lucky bitch. Also, I’m extremely proud that Truman is truly the chillest toddler ever, and it’s never really a problem when we go places to hang out with my friends. For the most part, they all think he’s a joy. It probably helps that all of my friends are just overgrown children themselves and can relate to Truman on a truly visceral level, but I appreciate that about them.

So, I guess what I’m really struggling with is having a super swell life.  Golly fucking gee.

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Hindsight is Always 20/20- High School Edition

I have been doing a lot of reminiscing lately. Especially about high school, since I’ve been watching a gajillion teen shows for my new blog Thirtysometeen.  Oh, have you not checked out my new amazing blog?  It is hilarious.  We watch Degrassi so you don’t have to.  Anyways, I had a fine time in high school. It wasn’t great, it was just FINE, okay.  Like any reasonable person, I have a few regrets.  I wish I could pull a Never Been Kissed and go undercover as a high schooler for an investigative report, because I would the the HBIC up in that piece now.  But without further blathering, here are the top five regrets I have about high school.

1) I wish I listened to better music.

Now this is a problem that all young people have.  They just inherently have terrible taste in music.  But for god’s sake, I purchased a PAPA ROACH CD with my own (my parents’) money!  I was also really into 311 in high school.  I had not yet realized that all of their songs sounded exactly alike.  I liked 311 so much that I had videos of their concerts and would doodle their logo all over my notes.  I had a huge crush on the lead singer, Nick Hexum.  I am both impressed and ashamed that I remember his name.  A quick google image search just now totally validated my crush, because he is still pretty foxy. I also had a giant femboner for Brandon Boyd, the lead singer of Incubus.  All this is good and fine, but it doesn’t excuse the fact that I memorized all the lyrics to “Nookie”.  When I was writing this I immediately got this song in my head.  I apologize for what is to follow.

2) I wish I was nicer to my parents.

It’s not like I was MEAN to my parents.  But you know, just typical teenage behavior.  I was never disrespectful, just a little sulky. I could never even imagine being one of those kids who scream “MOM AND DAD I HATE YOU!” and slam the door to their room. I know I disappointed them by not living up to my potential.  I also came home drunk in the middle of the night on more than one occasion.   Y’all, that’s not cool.  I was a bad kid and my parents are great people.  I skipped school, failed classes, and stayed out all night.  I  just regret making my mom and dad worry about me, that’s all.

3) I wish that I had actually tried, even just a little bit.

Obviously, I am of above average intelligence.  Now, what would have become of me if I had applied myself, even just a teeny weeny bit, in high school? Would I be a successful Rocket Surgeon ?   Would I have been able to date Richard Branson instead of just working at his store?  Would I have finished community college in the expected two years instead of three?  Maybe I would’ve been the goddamned voice of my generation.  Who knows?  If I had actually went to class instead of hanging out at the Whataburger across the street or at largest swimming pool in Texas, all of the above may have been possible.

4) I wish that I was truer to myself

In high school I stifled my weird a bit.  I still blurted out non sequitors and corny jokes in class, much to the chagrin of the other students, but I didn’t really let my freak flag fly. I wish I had been even more out spoken, made even MORE terrible jokes, and wore a lot less Abercrombie & Fitch.  It wasn’t until right after I graduated, coincidentally (or not) when I met Chad, that I really came into my own.  I remember strutting around in my Iggy & the Stooges shirt and red cowboy boots and feeling unstoppable.  If I have had that much confidence in high school I probably would’ve been the literal queen of the school, and had minions to do my bidding.

5) I wish I had not lost my virginity to a guy that already had two girlfriends.

Whoa, TRUTH BOMB!  Losing my virginity was so unceremonious!  It was not with a boyfriend, or someone I even liked that much.  I did it indiscriminately because I wanted this guy to take me TO A SCHOOL DANCE.  Then, he didn’t even take me to the dance because HE ALREADY HAD TWO GIRLFRIENDS.  To make matters worse, or better I guess, at the time of my deflowering, I was drunk off Parrot Bay coconut rum and Big Red.  You may consider this to be TMI, but I see revealing this extremely personal information to be a sort of PSA to any young girls out there.  “Don’t lose your virginity to a guy just so he’ll take you to a dance. He already has two girlfriends.”  LIFE LESSONS.

Reminiscing period over.  I am spreading myself a bit thin lately with my numerous blogs, numerous you say?  I thought you just had two?  No, I have three, please check out my new hilarious parenting blog, Contractually Obligated, that I am co-writing with my amazingly funny friend, Lola.  I will still try to post on this one at least once a week.  I have much more personal information to reveal.

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Ah yes, I made it. I am 30.

So this half assed retrospective was a success!  I looked back fondly on my twenties.  They were pretty chill!  Of course there were low points, but no one has a perfect ten years. This brings me to my late twenties. I feel like I really came into my own in this time. I blossomed into the ~beautiful flower~ that I am now.  I certainly stopped giving a shit about what people thought about me and basically said/did whatever I wanted.  I am truly a NO LIMIT SOLDIER. ::rolls eyes::

I had the opportunity to travel.  I went to Spain with my family which apparently there is no photographic proof of,  and also went  on a ladies’ road trip to Taos with my befri Keri, and my good friend Erin.  We dubbed ourselves the Ladies of the White Sands and almost got our car stuck in a mud puddle in the middle of nowhere.  We also went hiking up a mountain and I complained the entire time because, “I didn’t know it was going to be uphill.” I am a sharp one.

Around this time I also started playing with Music Learning Club.  I love singing, and I love these fools.  I consider them to be my second family.

Lavender finery

Here we are playing “You Can’t Hurry Love”.  My parents watched this video and made fun of how dramatic I was.  Little did they know that this was only our first song and I got a whole lot more unhinged.  I am the David Lee Roth of MLC, y’all.

Now in my late twenties not only was I overflowing with obvious musical talent, but I possessed extraordinary athletic ability as well.  Every Sunday I started playing kickball.  I met a lot of wonderful people and drank a lot of beer.  The following photo exemplifies my kickball talents:

There are things happening, and I am just standing there.

Kickball Fambly

Of course, of course we cannot discuss my late twenties without talking about the most important thing that happened–I started coloring my hair red. SIKE! Chad put a beautiful baby in my belly!  I had a really smooth pregnancy and was, by my own admission, THE MOST ADORABLE PREGNANT WOMAN IN THE WORLD. I love my little family so much and at the risk of sounding mega cheesy, I feel incredibly lucky and count my blessings every single day.


Awwww.  Anyway, today I am thirty.  My ass instantly feels bigger and my boobs saggier.  I jest, I jest.  I feel fine. Due to melanin and great genes, I AM NEVER GOING TO AGE.  The women in my family are blessed.   The only thing I am concerned about  is  I have a deep wrinkle between my eyebrows because I am constantly cringing in disgust at everything.  Maybe one of my goals for my third decade of life to become less JJJJ-ADED.  Nah.  I’ll just continue to judge the world as I see fit and get botox. It is also my dad’s birthday today.  It has always made me feel special to share a birthday with my father.  Happy Birthday Dad!

Buh, since this post is long enough, I will post jokes and pictures from my roast tomorrow. Hooray me! Hooray 30!  Oh, also I am starting a new blog with my friend Kolleen, called Thirtysometeen, in which we watch teen melodramas and discuss them at length.  It will be chock  full of pithy commentary!  I can’t wait.

Here are some bonus pictures!

Disney Princesses

I always have the best Halloween costumes, a tradition I am going to force upon Truman.


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Procrastination Station

Procrastination–My best friend, my lover, my ENEMY. I am the most powerful procrastinator that has ever lived. I have truly truly mastered the art of procrastination.   If there ever was some sort of award handed out to the  The Grand Procrastinators of America, I would definitely be a recipient. Sadly, that award could never exist since no one would ever get around to actually making it and everyone would probably be late to the awards ceremony anyways.  Sigh, I am a trifling bitch.  Just now I got distracted for about two hours just trying to write this stupid post.  I fell into a Youtube hole and went on a Midnight Special/glam rock binge.  I started with this:

and ended with this:

To be fair, it was a worthy distraction.

But back to procrastinating. Months ago my friend Evin over at Food Good, Laundry Bad wrote this post about a robot her son made for a school project.  If you scroll down and look at the comments, I commented and said I was inspired to write a post about procrastination and my own adventures with school projects. This was over two months ago.  Now  ::pats self on back::  I have finally started on  it!

UGH, I pray that Truman doesn’t put me through the hell I put my parents through.  I would always ALWAYS put off school projects until the very last minute. Never in my life have I completed a project in a timely manner.  It started in the first grade and lasted until I got my associates degree from community college (I am a high achiever).  One of my worst school years was the 3rd grade (did anyone enjoy the third grade?) I feel like that entire miserable year was just project after project.  The only highlight of the 3rd grade was when this kid in my class accidentally wore his dad’s pants to school instead of his own.  He cried, I laughed (quietly, to myself).  That is, sadly, one of my favorite memories from elementary school, and I think that speaks volumes about me.

BUT AGAIN, I DIGRESS.  3rd grade was project after goddamned project.   For our unit on Texas Indians, we each had to pick a tribe, write a report, and build a habitat that showed their dwellings, farming system, and native dress.  I picked the Karankawa, and I am afraid that I did them a great disservice with the shitty, thrown together habitat I made them.  It featured globs of sand from my backyard glued on a piece of cardboard, and hastily drawn pictures of Indians fishing.  Cabeza de Vaca did them more justice than I did.  Some projects, I didn’t even do.  My sister’s good natured, manchild boyfriend did them for me.  His work for me included a diorama of Kareem Abdul Jabbar shooting a basket, and a rather impressive marionette of an otter.

Perhaps my greatest school project failure came in the 7th grade.  This project was doomed from the start.  We were studying Texas culture, and had to do a project on our ancestors, their immigration to Texas, and the impact our culture had on Texas.  Being that I am clearly of Mexican descent, it would have made perfect sense to do my project on Mexican-Texan culture. But because I had a huge crush on a boy named Carlo, I decided to do my project on Italian-Texans so I could be in his work group.  The project culminated in a big Texas Cultures Fair that was for all the 7th grade parents to attend and was held in the evening. You were supposed to dress in traditional cultural garb, have a huge display, and a dish to share with the parents.  I, of course waited until the night before, and my cobbled together display consisted of a three-fold board with the Italian and  Texas flags on it. I think I also taped a rosary on there.  As for my traditional costume and dish, I threw a scarf on my head and opened up a can of black olives.  Needless to say, Carlo was not impressed.

I have countless other stories I could share, but I will spare you.  Truman will not be so lucky.  I will harangue him with  tales of my procrastination and failures so he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did.   We are going to be SO on top of things. Luckily, he already has a pretty good track record as he arrived in this world two weeks early.  That’s my boy, I guess.

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Rufus, Rufus, Rufus

Oh, I love Rufus Wainwright so much. His new album Out of the Game is phenomenal, it is my favorite album of his since Poses. I liked Want One & Want Two, but they were a little too theatrical for my tastes.  Out of the Game sounds like it was created~just for me~.  It is full of carefully produced homages to the 70’s.  Kudos to Mark Ronson, who I may or may not have a huge crush on, for doing an excellent job as producer. My favorite track, Bitter Tears, is downright ABBAesque.  Another one of my favorites,  Montauk, is a sweet song for Wainwright’s daughter Viva, who’s birth mother is Lorca Cohen, Leonard Cohen’s daughter.  That child was probably blessed by Apollo himself to be born into such a talented family.

I have liked Rufus Wainwright for a long time now. Poses was the soundtrack to the early days of mine and Chad’s relationship.  Chad and I were in a long distance relationship when the album was released (over ten years ago, EEP!).  He was living in Los Angeles and I was still living with parents.  You can probably imagine how difficult that was for me.  He was out there living it up, going to parties, doing the whole Hollywood thing, while I had to sit forlornly by the phone waiting for his call.  Then, miracle upon miracles, my parents allowed me to go visit Chad in LA.  I got to spend a whole week with my love, hung out with C-list celebrities in the Hollywood Hills, and had the added bonus of getting to see Rufus at an  in-store at Virgin Megastore (RIP).  I had no idea at the time that I would go on to work at Virgin a few years later, but that is a different story.  After a wonderful and hazy trip I had to return back to Corpus with a heavy heart and Poses in tow. I would listen to it constantly and day dream of a time when I would get to be with Chad permanently.  I can just hear the opening strains of Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk and am reminded of the halcyon days of our budding romance.  ::SIGH::

Here is a picture from that in-store that is awesome for several reasons.  First of all, look at how young and skinny we are!  Chad looks like a different man, still handsome, but different.  NO BEARD!  Secondly, Rufus could not look any more displeased in this photo.  If I recall correctly my camera was acting up so this was the second attempt to capture this magical moment.  The third thing I love about this picture is the loss prevention guy trying to sneak out of the frame.  Unintentional Photo bomb! Good times had by all. Now, I am going to go listen to Greek Song and reminisce.  You go buy Wainwright’s new album.

Rufus is having the best time of his life, obviously.

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