So last night Drew and I drove to Norman around 9, got there around 10, and
walked over to the Red Dirt Cafe. The place was packed and the guy at the door
told us that since we didn’t have tickets, he couldn’t let us in. I even said we
were there for Kevmo’s birthday, thinking that there must be some pull there,
but he just shook his head. “I know who you’re talking about, but the fire
marshal could write us a really big ticket right now.” This I understand. There
began our Norman Adventure. Drew and I, unfamiliar in this Schooner territory,
set out to find another bar, or at least a warm place to hang out for a while.
Little did we know that Norman is the only college town in this nation to offer
a wider selection of shoe and handbag stores than bars. And the sidewalks are
brick paved! Come on, people, this is college we’re talking about. Twenty-four
hour greasy spoons, 12 bars on every corner, friendly people. None of which we
found any of. Somehow, we spotted the Deli, which I’d been to for a Stoney show
some time ago. Figuring we could at least get in, we headed across a parking
lot. Halfway there, we passed a group of guys and Drew called out a hello to one
of them. The shook hands, said hey, how’s it going, that quick bit, and Drew
told him the show at the Red Dirt was sold out; that we had just been there an
couldn’t get in. The guy shrugged and told us to check out the show at the Deli.
The interesting thing about this guy was that he had all the pull in the world
to get us into the Red Dirt Cafe, help build a fan base with two people who,
although probably not all-important to the Oklahoma music industry, would
certainly have been defined as avid supporters and possibly die-hard fans.
Instead, he became the biggest jackass we’d ever crossed paths with. When we
finally cozied up to the bar at the Deli, Drew told me a story about one of his
friends who was constantly giving money to homeless men. One day, his car broke
down, and as he was walking to a service station, he ran into one of the
homeless guys who remembered him. Turns out, the homeless guy had a car and
drove him home. Just saying, people, you never know when an act of kindness is
going to pay off. And if you’re one of those people who has the opportunity to
be kind, and you pass it up, I say karma’s gonna get you someday.

What do I love? Shopping. Trendspotting. Polka dotting. The way Yahoo always
decorates their icons for holidays. China–the kind you set the table with.
Paper, obviously. Fabulous sheets–the kind you make a fabulous bed with.
Original people. Good design. Free thinkers. The urge to take a paintbrush and
just mess up every wall in my house. My house. Shoes, duh. Being a girl, not a
diva, sometimes a princess, but always a girl. Potential and possibility. Today.

So it was a good weekend. I didn’t finish the work stuff I have to do, but I got
closer. Drew and I had a great afternoon yesterday at my sister’s house; tonight
I have to babysit (and tape the finale of My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance); my
parents went to Dallas so I’m in charge of Lucy, and it’s raining outside and
that means I’ll have one unhappy puppy on my hands when I get home. My sister
just called and wants to have a work day at my house in honor of my birthday. A
great idea, to be honest. Simply fabulous. I’m not much in the way of needing
things. But a house that is finished, holy cow. Wouldn’t it be great to have a
sofa finally? Sex: They finally gave Big a name. The unattainable became human.
Couldn’t have ended better. I’m going to miss that City.

Last night was fun. The usual were out: Kevin, Ragan, Ashly. Drew joined me at
the last minute, for which I was so glad; we ended up having a great time. Left
around midnight. Midnight is my bedtime; I turn into a pumpkin, or start yawning
at least. And for some reason, the margaritas weren’t too strong so my energy
level was wayning. Got to see Texas Jack for the first time, finally. I’m with
Ash on this one. They rock. But, I’d be hard pressed to see them over Bleu
Edmondson, still. And No Justice came on after Texas Jack and played a bunch of
my favorites. But really, no matter how you look at it, the Wormy Dog is a happy
place to be. Today I got up and came to work. I’m printing samples to send to
the reps–a full scale job for one person. Started off the morning with Krispy
Kreme and coffee. Thinking about doing that Atkins thing. As I dive into my
afternoon Dr. Pepper. Drew is coming with me to my sister’s house tomorrow to
eat lunch and meet them. I’m excited. It’ll be like having all my favorite
people in one place.

I broke down and cried about an hour ago. I feel like the weight of everything
is on my shoulders. Last night I worked until 1 a.m. and then went home and
couldn’t fall asleep. I think it was three in the morning before I finally dozed
off. This morning, my phone woke me up. It was my dad, telling me some more
orders had come in and that X problem had carried over from the day before. I’m
not going to get into X problem, but I will tell you that Y problem and Z
problem have quickly followed it. Basically, just a million things I don’t want
to deal with. Vendors not paying, reps not getting credit cards, product coming
in damaged. The phone hasn’t rung for about an hour. All I want to hear is the
fax machine.

I love history. Find it absolutely fascinating. Everything about anything old,
whether it’s statistics citing the basic insanity of the human race, the
psychoanalysis of dictators and their contemporaries, to the artistry of the
lines of an old chest and the grain of the walnut wood and how the carver made
the ball and claw foot or the stroke of genius Picasso added to a last work…I
love it. Last night, Drew and I sat and watched Band of Brothers (or one episode
of it anyway). The DVD had a “Field Guide” included on it, where you could click
to see where the army moved, and a timeline that you could click and read
through. We must have sat, almost in silence, clicking and reading for an hour
straight. The events leading up to WWII–completely fascinating. Hindsight is
always 20/20, and you wonder why FDR didn’t see it all coming, and then I wonder
if maybe we all did see it coming and just didn’t want to admit it. Either way,
completely fascinating, the war games we play.

Ashly and fellow drinking friends–next Tuesday I can get all free passes to
Mardi Gras at 50th & Meridian. It’s free Jumbalaya and Gumbo, so all need to
come. Food and beer! Yum! Free dinner! Yum!

I think I broke my laser printer cartridge. The directions said to pull out this
little tape thingy, and well, I didn’t read the directions, so I didn’t pull out
the tape thingy. When I finally realized reading the directions would be a good
idea, and then pulled out the little tape thiny, the cartridge started
distributing a lovely gray cast on all paper things run through my little laser
printer. Oops. Thank goodness for return policies.

In college, I wrote opinion columns for the school paper. To this day, people
hear my name and say, “Oh, you wrote for the O’Colly in Stillwater!” I’m not
sure how many articles actually got published, and I used the publicity as a
platform for a lovelorn heart more than anything (just call me Carrie Bradshaw),
but I was cited on several occasions for causing a political stir here and
there. Interestingly enough, I detest political stirs. I hate the dissention
that arises, mostly, because of opinion. I’m a fact-based person, and no
indivdual bias is going to mean anything to me if not backed up by some
resource–even if it’s the Jerry Springer Show as opposed to the New England
Medical Journal (though I’d prefer the Journal, anyday). I’m not good at arguing
my points, and even though I know I’ve taken the time to determine, by fact, why
I believe what I do, I struggle to retain the bullet points and regurgitate the
information. It’s quite frustrating. When “heatedly discussing” sensitive
issues, I think it is most important to first remember to respect other people’s
bias’. Internal and external factors make each of us who we are, and a differing
opinion does not entitle the opposing party to make light any individual.
Equally important is to realize that opinion does not equate fact, especially in
the case of media coverage. All opinion is biased; everyone has a modus
operandi; anyone with a platform is going to promote that bias, if given the
choice. In the midst of a day where people think that just because they don’t
believe in heaven or hell means they’ll be absolved from either consequence, I
grasp for truth. I take comfort in the fact that there are absolutes, even if
our society refuses to acknowledge them. And while I cringe at the idea of
suffering with said society for their choices based on whim and what feels good,
I find it reassuring to find someone who reacts with principle. It’s days like
today that make me wonder if I’m making a quiet difference in the world around
me. Do I have the integrity to make a difference? I think that’s what it takes.
You have to remember to have opinion without judgement, love without preference,
anger without injustice, passion without prejudice. It takes sacrifice, and I
think people who are looking out primarily for themselves have too much fear to
speak truth. It could therefore be deduced that most of us tend to lookout for
#1, that all of us have personal biases, that we each carry our own m.o. We are
human, we are selfish, we cannot deny that. But even with those flaws, we are
given the choice to rise above them. Admit we don’t know everything. Acknowledge
that we are not in control of the world. And reason that just because we don’t
like something does not mean we can contort it in our own minds to be something
more psychologically endurable. That’s a scary place to be, but facing
truth–reality in it’s purest form–wouldn’t hurt us. It would be humbling,
because it would mean dealing with imperfections, but humility might actually be
where it all starts. It might actually make us stronger, more united as a
nation, more effective as a society. Sadly, I don’t think we have the guts to do
it.

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