thechristianbird: hey brandon, whatup
Brandon Atblb: whatup
Brandon Atblb: hehe, cool
thechristianbird: haha, you are [edited offensive adjective]
thechristianbird: So I just had to tell someone.../
thechristianbird: DYL IS BACK UP WHOO
Brandon Atblb: lol
Brandon Atblb: i don't believe you
thechristianbird: I know I couldn't believe it either.
thechristianbird: Like, i just kinda stumbled into it working
thechristianbird: weird
Brandon Atblb: well, i feel special that i was the lucky one that you chose to tell.
thechristianbird: haha, well you should!
thechristianbird: hey you think you could blog it or something?
thechristianbird: just to let ppl know
thechristianbird: because it is the story of the year
Brandon Atblb: hmm.
Brandon Atblb: i guess so
thechristianbird: haha, no pressure
Brandon Atblb: but i'll do it all cheesily.
thechristianbird: haha, okee doke

I'm busy. I say it all the time. I remember the days when I wasn't. I actually had time to be bored and do absolutely nothing through age 15. Back in those days I'd stay up and watch TV late into the night, sleep late into the day, and complain that there was nothing to do. I suppose there really wasn't. I mean, it was southern Alabama. My friends and I had to be very creative in our efforts to amuse ourselves. Around 16 I started driving, got a boyfriend, all of that. But I still had time to be lazy. School wasn't that hard, I only worked a few hours a week, and I had little responsibility really. Then came college at good ole BCF. My dad was ever so generous and allowed me to go to school full time without working during the year that I lasted there... But I stopped going for a good reason, really. I fell in love, which led me to moving 2,500 miles away and getting married. Which brings me to the time of my life that is the most busy. The year and a half that I have been married, during which I've worked full time and continued with college.

Now I long for the hours I once had to waste. I wish I could stroll through the graveyard, write stories and letters that could possibly testify against my sanity, and sing songs to the man in the sewer.

Wendy and I just watched the last episode of My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance.
Now Wendy is probably wondering where her million dollars is.

I finally got around to sorting through our vast collection of pictures from last weekend's trip, and my sweet wonderful husband was sweet enough to put them on the site. So here you go: San Francisco, Valentines Weekend 2004.

It's been a busy week. I scrambled to write an extra credit essay for my government class, spent every extra moment on it right up to an hour after work yesterday (30 minutes before the class was to begin) when I reread the directions for what seemed like the tenth time and realized it was all wrong. So, I finished the paper up, stapled it and raced to school (I was late) and turned it in anyway. Maybe the professor will give me some sort of credit, maybe not. He's totally being fair if he doesn't, but that childish part of me won't let go of the hope that he may be generous.

So yet again my weekend will be spent studying for an exam. I have to work Saturday, also. It's amazing how the joy and relaxation you feel during a vacation fade so quickly the moment you return to real life.

So we made it back from San Francisco safe and sound. We got to see the bush man that hangs out around Fisherman's Wharf, however, he doesn't seem to be the same one we saw over a year ago. This one isn't old and grizzled, and he didn't seem interested in money in the least. He just seemed to want to scare people with his bound-up shrubbery. Perhaps the real bush man is on vacation. Oh, well.

Hooray for the weekend! Brandon and I have Monday off for Presidents Day, so we're going to San Francisco to celebrate V-day (and of course, Presidents Day). Don't miss us too much, because we'll be back soon with plenty of pictures. Really, we won't get lazy and forget to post them. Happy V-day!

Tell me I'm not paranoid... Last night, instead of working out I dropped Brandon off at the school and drove to our pharmacy in Tustin to get my medicine. When I got back, I had to walk across the parking lot, next to the woods, nearly in the dark, to the gym retrieve my dear husband. Nearly finishing the darkest part of my walk next to the woods which was maybe twenty yards away from the gym, a man started walking behind me. I was walking pretty fast, and he seemed to quicken his pace behind me. I walked even faster, nearing the door where Brandon would be. The man was pretty close behind by then, and I had tightened my grip on my purse (which is heavy, my cell phone and wallet aren't light y'know) and was prepared to swing the purse at the man when a door behind us swung open and I heard my name being called. Brandon had walked out of the men's locker room and was ready to leave. The man passed me and went on his merry way. He probably doesn't realize what a favor Brandon had done him.

The thing is, I always considered it common courtesy to take extra measures not to seem like you're following some one. When behind certain guys I slow down or speed up simply because I think they'll flatter themselves and think I'm checking them out if I stay too close. With girls it's not as big of a deal, but they're always on their cell phones, and I wouldn't want to eavesdrop in a public place. Anyhow, that's my story of how I almost attacked a possibly innocent person who followed a little too closely.

I don't know what Wendy is talking about when she says that I do not blog. I blog all the time, but the blogger program was broke and so it didn't display my blogs on which I have been working so diligently. Okay, the truth is that I have been guest writing for Seth the past two months. I hope you like my work.

Okay, I gotta admit, the name of this site has become a bit meaningless lately. You see, the point was that my blog and Brandon's blog would be pieced together after we got married like a mosaic, hence the name, mosaic life. That's cool, but Brandon kinda quit blogging. What kind of mosaic life is this? I mean, we hardly even have pictures of mosaics on here. Oh well. We did buy the domain name, after all. Might as well make use of it. Besides, mosaics are pretty cool. And you never know when Brandon may return to blog about cheeto sandwiches or parking tickets.

Boys, stop making your women grow long hair. No, really. Some girls just can't do it. Some can, but seriously, not all. I'm writing this because of the numerous conversations I've had with guys who have said, "I like it when girls grow their hair out." I even did this for a while back in high school (my hair grew pretty long, almost down to my waist) but it was seriously unbecoming. Why? Because to grow your hair long, it needs to be relatively thick, reasonably resistant to split ends (not to mention many stop trimming in order to grow out their hair as fast as possible) and the person basically needs to have right-shaped face for it. Boys do not take these things into account. They just say they like girls with long hair, and their women want to make them happy. In the end, I'm stuck behind these poor girls in check-out lines at grocery stores, dreaming I had a pair of scissors, the nerve to cut some seriously nappy, split-ended, sometimes two-toned or maybe even too thin hair, and then wishing I had the speed of a cheetah for the getaway. But yes, the blame belongs not only to the men. There are girls out there who listen to them, ignoring that ole reflection in the mirror for the promise of approval from mr. man. Go back to your hairstylist. It's for the best.

I'm so happy! I just ate Chick Fil-a for the first time since I was in the south. I'm so stoked that we finally have one near here. I'd been impatiently watching them build the new Chick Fil-a nearby for over six months. It may just be a fast food place, but I missed it. Besides, I love the polynesian sauce. That stuff rocks.

Time is going by unbelievably slow this morning. I just need lunch time to get here so it can part the work day. Am I really asking too much?

I have my Government midterm tonight. Sounds a bit early, I know, but that's because the class will be over in mid-march. See, that's the way to go. Quick and to the point. I just hope my mind doesn't totally blank out the moment I walk into the classroom. I can honestly see that happening.

Happy Groundhog Day! Er, I guess from what that site said there's suppose to be six more weeks of winter. I hadn't really noticed much of a winter anyhow, so whatever.