style? i haz it.

LOLZ

with me at the end of my rope, and you at the wheel.

this weekend was amazing. corinne being here is, well, incredible. saturday was super rainy so in lieu of the beach we went to some random bar on indian rocks beach. well, not that random. i had been there once before, but, allas that is another story for another time. man, it's a good one though.

anyways, hours later we ended up at the orpheum. dancing and drinking and sweating. yeah, that's all there really is to say about that.

sunday was brunch. and what a brunch it was. when it was brought to my attention that there was a tree pregnant with coconuts just over the way, i immediately began rallying the troops. you see, we had rum. and drinking rum out of a coconut, well, that's just too amazing of an opportunity to pass up. michael and luke saw this dream to fruition when they liberated those blessed little balls of heaven. then, after a bit of handy work with a hammer and large nail, we were able to funnel some good ol' captin morgan into our new vessels of happiness.

carolyn wants that.

"like heroes returning from battle."-
'lil miss abbie rae

mid-mission


in other news, my great uncle had a birthday. and with that birthday, he had some sangria. then he got fresh with the billboard outside of ceviche. he funny.


i love my life.

ZOMG.

corinneisintownfortwowholeweeksholycrap. HOW FREAKING AWESOME???!!!!

when i left for work this morning, in my usual haze of sleepyhangoveredness, i had completely forgotten that she had flown down the previous afternoon. seeing her dishevled-ish spread out on my couch, fully clothed made my heart smile.

maybe this summer won't suck so much after all.

in other news, i baked this weekend?! home made vegan cinnamon rolls and champange were brought by yours truly to the boys playing polo in tampa on saturday.

then we drank a hundred beers. sofun.

champange+pete

aww. <3

pete's girl, jeannette can track stand like crazy too.

srsly, the gene pool requires these two reproduce.

yumms!

brunch this weekend. be there!

that is all.

xo.

BAY AREA POLO!

yeah, it's happening. the polo bug has bit the tampa bay area. yesterday was the first practice and it is set to happen every monday in tampa. permanent location is still being decided. i'll keep ya'll posted. amanda, lilly and i were there last night to distribute beer/hugs/cheer/take pictures. we had a blast.

also, there be a myspace: http://www.myspace.com/bayareapoloand a thread on the forums: http://flfixed.com/comments.php?DiscussionID=647&page=2#Item_4 for more information. i will be there on a fairly regular basis.

and next time i will bring:
more ladies. plus our bicycles.
baked goods.
more beer.
chocolate/strawberry milk for dave.
and one of these things:



i suggest team names and colors be chosen as soon as possible so that we might make obnoxious t-shirts/paint our faces. then we will chose sides and get in drunken fights from the sidelines.

no joke. watch me go.


or, watch pete go:


or dave:

anyways, in other news, i drank some beer this weekend.

evidence.

i also attended the CYCLE DE SOLEIL. i didn't race. but i watched dave japenga win 1st. prize was a 100 dollar bottle of champagne. he don't drink. BUT, he enjoyed some chocolate milk and so all is well. pete young placed 2nd, eric stubs 3rd and 4th went to mondo mike.

as for the ladies, amy horst was 1st, and st. pete's own carol davis was 2nd. both fixed. lilly got 3rd on her road bike.

the rest of us handled the burden of the after party. it wasn't easy but the dollar pbr's helped.

ALSO! luke stickland is alive! this made me so happy i needed photographic evidence.

who can complain about the economy when you've got company like this?

and finally, quote of the week: "listen you, how's about you just back off. i've been coming to this bar for 30 years, honey. you're earrings don't impress me", slurred the nice lady keeping me company as i ordered another pitcher from the bar. all i could really say to that was, thank you. i forgot there was still laughter in the world for a minute. or, for that matter, people who went to the same sad bar for 30 years.

on that note, i just mailed in applications for the museum studies program at USF. if all goes as planned, i'll be done in a year. then i'll be selling the house and peacing outta here to finish school up north. stay tuned for further endeavors in academic excellence. sotheby's IOA here i come. i won't be at the emerald in 2035, you can bet you bottom dollar on that one.

So this is going down tomorrow. Davis Island. Be there. I most likely won't be racing, for several reasons I'm not getting into right here, but I will definitely be around drinking some beers. Come say hello!



Also, looky how cute! This went down last week, when Carolyn and I attended The [5] art closing, then a bunch of us sat around and drank warm beer while awaiting Pete, Dallas and Taylor. They got lost, or something. Anyways, we then rode to Memas, ate a bunch of tacos, had our Polaroid taken from a deceiving homeless man for 5 dollars and rode our bicycles some more. Some time after that, I boarded a plane to JFK. Note, drinking and staying up all night only to get on a plane at 4am makes for a bad flight experience. So does having a having a four hour delay in MIA because your connecting flight is sans pilot.

Hey, times are tough.

are you listening universe? i fucking mean it.

I came to visit you because I needed closure. I needed something from you that I know now I will never get; that I’m not even really sure how to ask for. I could never trust you anyway. I take solace in that fact. And you and I both know that it goes without saying I deserve so much more than your inadequate existence. I feel like I’ve written this letter a hundred times over. I’ve talked myself out of loving you for near a year. I lost little pieces of myself in you, and what’s worse, I compromised my integrity for you for all these months because I believed you were worth it. I know now you aren't. But, I had to believe that all this meant something and that it was possible for some good to come from the mess we both made. But now I’m tired. I’m tired of the way you make me feel and of trying to quantify elation or, for that matter, depression. I’m tired of your eyes begging me not to ask. I’m tired of the words you'll never say. And most of all, I’m just so profoundly disappointed in you. I fell for you because I kept catching glimpses of the man you so desperately want to be; of the man I thought you almost were. But your actions and your consistently poor decisions prove otherwise. It’s funny, there is this huge part of me that desperately needed you to tell me I meant nothing more than a warm body and distraction from the loneliness that you exude. That I, like so much of your behavior, was merely an exercise in your unjustifiably over inflated ego. Sex is something I understand. Unwarranted cruelty and cowardliness, I do not. But none of that matters anymore. This letter doesn’t really matter anymore. The fact that I cried for the first time in over a year on that plane ride home doesn’t matter anymore. Because you’d never really make me happy. I know that now. Remember when I told you that, at the very least, I’d never not be your friend? I meant that. But I can’t be a friend to someone who won’t return the favor and you haven’t. I was unfailingly honest with you and without exception, willing to accept responsibility for every poor decision I made and, in return, you ran away, like a child. I never asked to feel the way I felt, yet I never negated those feelings despite vacillating on the consequences of this wreckage more than I'd ever care to admit. And, although my capacity to understand you through all of your, for lack of a more severe word, shortcomings, doesn't change the fact that your conduct has left me sick to my stomach. I always new it’d be anything but easy with you. But I, unlike you, really believed us to be worth it. And it’s glaringly apparent that your dedication to me, like everything else in your life, is significantly deficient. Part of me still wanted to ask you to prove me wrong; but I already know you won’t. You should know that I really believed I could forgive you. Though, I know now that I can’t. And regardless, you don’t want a clean slate, and that’s fine. Wilde says those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love's tragedies. And I’m better for that; for having loved you despite the fact that the esoteric nature of our relationship has finally knocked the wind out of me and I’ve finally allowed myself to let go. I’m defeated and for the first time, completely resolved to the fact that whatever the reason, you and I are without question, over.

Good morning forever.

corinne graduated. we celebrated.

so i manged to do everything on my nyc to do list. and i feel GREAT.

more stories and pictures to come. i haz some good ones.

but, for now, just an fyi to all my real life friends. my phone is donzo. maybe it's cause it was just too old. or maybe it's cause i'm really hard on all my personal belongings. or maybe, just maybe, it was that half consumed, open prb i drunkly stuck in my purse 'for later' only to wonder why all my shit was all wet and everything smelled like beer an hour later. opps.

anyways, i'm not sure when i will get a new phone. hopefully tonight. but i'm not able to read any texts or receive calls. plus i lost all my contacts. so, i need your numbers all over again!