Fear and Loathing in Victoria

When I was in college, my best college buddy was Brittany. In fact, Brittany is still my best college buddy. We shared in the tribulation that was shoe-box sized dorm living, we ate the obligatory cases of ramen noodles together, we went through rush together and of course had many fabulously horrific drunken misadventures together. You've met college, right? Yeah.

So basically during the first few years after my mom passed away, I was in a rotation of spending holidays with friends. Once, when we had a break from school - Fall break I believe? I went to Victoria to see the place from which Brittany originated.

What I can say about Victoria: Hi...I'm in Victoria...

Though I imagine those that visit Amarillo harbor somewhat similar feelings. Nonetheless, I toured the outskirts just barely outside of Victoria and arrived in the small municipality of Raisin - where Brittany's family resides. Raisin' Texas, y'all!

Brittany's house is on a rather sizable chunk of land, and out behind it is a two story barn. Or at least, it WAS a barn. It had since been remodeled to a sort of back house that had couches, a pool table and a refrigerator filled with a veritable smorgasbord of alcohol. I was twenty, and to me this was a thing of unadulterated majesty. However, Brittany's brother Cody had completely decimated the stash. The only things that were left were as follows: Hot Damn and Jager.


Now if you know anything about alcohol, you know that those two drinks are, well, rough. And even more rough? A combination of the two. At this point in my life, I was equally unacquainted with what both of those drinks were. So I, as well as Brittany, thought...."hey, why not combine the two?" The evening started with one shot of each and as far as I can recollect, ended in a mixed drink of the two.

All I know, is at one point I was talking to Cody about politics and totally smashing the Bush administration. Then? Nothing.

The next thing I knew, I was in the hot tub. I didn't realize what was going on, or how I ended up there. All I knew is that I was alone, until I heard someone calling me. I looked around, and there was Cody standing outside of the hot tub. He said "Mary, are you okay? You're not going to fall asleep in there...are you?" "How did I get here?" I say. "I have no idea, I just came outside and here you were" said Cody. I look down, to my horror, and see what I'm wearing. Here's a hint: it's not a bathing suit. Don't worry! I wasn't naked or anything! What I WAS wearing was my pink bra and a pair of Brittany's mom's spandex bicycle shorts.

What?!

I think I know, in retrospect, where I got the bicycle shorts. Earlier that day, I was hanging out with Brittany and Debbie, her mom, in Debbie's room. Upon entry into her quarters, I saw that she had a gazelle! Woooohooo!


Please tell me this doesn't look fun guys. If you tell me it doesn't look fun you are being a filth monster. It's like gliding along on poofy clouds at a superhuman SPEED! Like...Pocahontas painting with the colors of the damn wind!

I got overly excited about the gazelle, which may be apparent at this point. So I happily pounced on it and started wailing away doin' mah thang. Then I started being goofy and overly exaggerating my leg movements. The next thing I knew, my center of gravity was compromised - and the NEXT thing I knew was that I was laid out on the floor, my feet having just flown out from under me, on my back, with my legs sticking straight up and the wind completely knocked out of me.

This is something Brittany and her mom STILL give me hell about. There's even footage of Brittany's mom telling this story on Brittany's wedding video. Awesome.

So anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion that drunk giggly hot tubbin' Mary decided to sneak into Debbie's room and abscond with a pair of schexy bicycle shorts to use as a swimsuit.

The next day, after a rather large mexican food lunch and too many tylenol gel caps, Brittany and I headed aft back to San Marcos. Mostly in silence. I turned to her and said "Brit? I'm never doing that again." "Never EVER hot damn and jager again - it erases our memories and renders us lunatics" said Brittany. "Yes" I agreed, head hung in humiliation. "Yes it does."

February: A Month From the Bowels of Hell

My family (me, Kevin, Amelia) has been sick for the ENTIRE MONTH of February. As many of you may or may not know, I absolutely loathe going to the doctor and will be at death's front door before I finally relent and allow myself to be taken. Usually Kevin or my best friend Laine will have to say something that affronts my delicate (uh...ha!) nature in order to convince me I'm being ridiculous and might meet my end if I don't go.


I would see him though, because he's hot. Yes I said it, Hugh Laurie is hot. He has an attitude problem, he's British and he dresses in those print tshirts with a courduroy jacket. Swoon!

Onward. Yesterday I met with the ridicule of Kevin and Laine. Plus, I was scaring people at work. So I went to the doctor, and she essentially had an aneurysm at me. "Jesus, you sound awful" she says. "I sound like a 500 lb smoking man" I say, to which she gave a nod of affirmation. I left with an antibiotic, an inhaler and medicated nasal spray. I was offered steroids and hydrocodone, which I respectfully declined. As previously discussed, I already sound like a man so I don't need steroids, thank you. I declined the narcotics because I'd be all... "aw?" when it ran out.

So now I'm medicated and feel a little better, though I still sound like a corpulent smoker, and am still voming from excessive coughing. Just to reiterate the hellishness of this month, allow me to disclose to you the disgusting diseases that have befallen my house recently: flu, pink eye, bronchial infections, respiratory infections, small pox, jungle monkey virus, plague, dysentery, snake bite...basically all the diseases in Oregon Trail.



Okay, only the first four were true...but still how awful is that? Here's hoping March treats us a little better!

2011: Off to a Ridiculous Start

Okay, where do I begin? 2011 started with an almost immediate launch into tax season. I work within a tax center that offers free preparation for low income families along with free financial coaching and free financial aid assistance for college. Sounds awesome, right? Well that's because it is! But the problem is, like any tax preparation agency right now, it's super busy. When it's super busy and people have to wait for extended periods of time....what do they do? They complain.

But dude, seriously? It's a free service. Don't complain!



Naturally, because I'm a weirdo magnet, a lot of complaints find themselves in my lap. And daily I feel like I'm being leveled with an assault rifle. Or a bazooka. Some sort of super intense weapon. Still, I put on meh happy face at work, but when I get home I collapse and go to bed at like 7pm because it's exhausting.

Second, the dreaded half marathon. I finished - but when I arrived at the finish line I looked like a dead wildebeest. I also lost my left toenail and bled clean through one of my shoes.


Before the race, happy but scared. And I look fugly.


After. Totally jank.

Third, I'm turning over the program I run for the National Alliance on Mental Illness called In Our Own Voice over to a new coordinator because unfortunately, I'm just too busy to coordinate it AND work AND have a two year old while maintaining the integrity of the program. So I go up to the Austin State Hospital, which is a mental hospital, to hand over the reins. Saying 'mental hospital' may or may not be derogatory...so sorry if it is!

Anyway, while I respect both those who are in it and those who are employees of it, it's super freaking creepy. The walls are this icky green color, and it always smells both sterile and sickly. OH! And the numbers on the doors never correspond with the doors next to them. SO strange. One time I got lost in there, and I couldn't open any of the exit doors. It felt like a bizarre and terrifying nightmare...luckily I found an employee who believed that I wasn't a patient that let me out.

I digress on the strangeness. You get the idea. So I go up to the Austin State Hospital to hand off my well organized, top notch, squeaky clean, freaking perfect, awesome work on the program to the office staff. When I get to the 4th floor, I discover they haven't yet arrived, so I take the opportunity to go to the restroom...which is a tiny one-person stall.

After that was attended to, I washed my hands and proceeded to have the automatic paper towel dispenser unload its entire contents on me. So I struggle in this tiny little cubicle to stop the paper towels, and don't succeed. I stuff everything in the trashcan, feeling sullen at the tragic waste of the paper. I put my jacket on, and reach to unlock the door. Nothing. The knob doesn't move. WHAT? What is going on here? What do I do?


Oh. My. God. I'm going to die in here!

I start banging loudly on the door every couple of minutes to alert any passers-by.

Finally, after twenty minutes of banging, I get a response. It's the office staff. "WE WILL GO GET A KEY!" they say. They do. The key doesn't work. So we sit there in a state of pushing and pulling and turning and more banging. This goes on for 30 minutes before we finally get a maintenance man up there and manage to unlock the thing.

Like the place doesn't freak me out enough? And I lock myself in a bathroom? Only me. I swear...why does it ALWAYS have to be me?!

So needless to say my year is off to a ridiculous start, but then again that's par for the course. Naturally I will keep you posted on any further interesting events that take place.