THIS CIRCUS WE LIVE IN

I never watch the news.

It's depressing and usually boring... or so I thought.

Tonight I heard pieces of the news between hands of Monopoly, and these are the things that have been happening in San Antonio.

1. A siamese cat is cut in half with a saw. (Accompanied by a visual of the top half of his furry bod.)

2. What was thought to be part of a human corpse found in a trash can actually identified as a large squid.

3. A taser-wielding grandma robs a Subway.

PS: Just in case you were wondering, I got Boardwalk.

FOUND NOTE #2

Here's a gem I found at Burnet Middle School--

Weekly Warm Ups:
MONDAY (blank)

TUESDAY (blank)

WEDNESDAY
Tech makes life easier. Computers have changed the way we lived. in what ways has the computer made life better. for working.

THURSDAY
Snoop Dogg likes chicken wings

FRIDAY (blank)

CRAIGSLIST AD: 1,325 POPE HATS

1,325 Pope Hats

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Date: 2009-07-07, 3:17PM MST

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Because of this terrible economy, I'm having to shut down my business. I have OVER 1300 Pope hats (replicas) that I REALLY need to get rid of. The pope hats came from China and are a little too small for most adult heads and are also irritating to the skin, so you would need to have long hair or wear a smaller hat underneath (just like the REAL POPE). Dogs do not like to wear these pope hats, but maybe a large cat or maybe a nice dog would wear one. My dogs will not but they are not very nice and always hate being dressed up like for Halloween when we tried to dress them up like batman but they became very very agitated and bit a neighbors kid. I will lock the dogs up when you come get all of these pope hats.

My wife is a devout catholic and she finds the presence of all of these pope hats all over the house to be blasphemous. I have pope hats in every closet, pope hats under the sing, pope hats full of other pope hats. She will not stop talking to me about getting rid of the pope hats and has started lighting candles all over the house for my soul but these pope hats are extremely flammable so its a problem in my house (there are pope hats everywhere)

I payed 10x what I'm asking for when I bought these pope hats. I still think there is a market for them maybe when the economy turns around. Act NOW! Don't miss this great deal! I have 1,325 total (I counted this morning). 3 of them have some dog bites and one of them is burnt to a crisp, but you can take that one or leave it. Bring 2-3 strong friends.

I'M IN LOVE WITH A JACKRABBIT

So my parents rented a lakehouse in Lago Vista for a month. We also rented a golf cart to take us from the house to the pool/marina. One night, after relaxing in the thermal grotto, my sisters and I rode around on the trails and saw 3 pairs of jackrabbits on what we like to call "bunny date night." After that, we were obsessed.

We would take the golf cart out at night to rabbit hunt. Often we would catch a glimpse of a cotton ball tail scurrying off, but it was never satisfying. We wanted more bunnies. The late night searches were endless.

On the night of my 23rd birthday, on the way home from a party in a castle, my friends and I drove past a stunning jackrabbit. He sat up straight, regal, head held high with his huge ears elegantly perked, one foot bent in a casual manner. He was perched dangerously close to the edge of the road. The driver zoomed by him without touching the brakes, and the rabbit didn't even twitch.

I might've thought he was a statue, but I swear I made eye contact with him, and although his gaze was rather stoic, I detected some warmth. It was like he was mad at me for cheating on the lakehouse with some other place, or he had been waiting for me to come out on the golf cart searching for him and I never showed. The most amazing thing about him was the bone structure of his face. He had high, pronounced cheekbones and a dignified snout. He was really handsome. I went out looking, but I never saw him again. It's strange, but I fell for a jackrabbit.

APOLLO AND THE MIDNIGHT BAKERY

In Ortigia there lives a man known by his many admirers as Apollo (or, on occasion, Hercules). By day we would see him building a platform next to "lo scoglio," a huge rock where the locals go per prendere il sole. By night he lounged in bars, always positioned in a prominent spot from which he could watch and be watched.

One night, the hissable Andrea suggests we drop by Sanrocco (a bar which is straight out of Grease, only with designer bags and lavender pants instead of leather jackets and poodle skirts) to hopefully catch a glimpse of Apollo. We are about to head home when she spots his muscly shoulders over the crowd. He is dancing with some other Italian men, and when we creep by for a closer look, the men whisk Andrea into their dance circle. After a few minutes, she emerges from the crowd, panting, with a red rose hanging from her mouth.

Fast forward a few hours. It's 3:30 am. The Grease bar has closed for the night, and Apollo and his men lead us through tiny winding alleys. They've promised to take us to the famous yet elusive midnight bakery. After about 10 minutes of walking (this island is tiny), I'm convinced that our bodies are going to be used from some obscure Greco-Roman sacrifice ritual. We walk into a dark entryway and are relieved to smell things baking. There are a few men working, unloading fresh loaves of bread from the massive ovens. The owner of the bakery grabs one of the loaves and with what seems like one quick movement slices it open and slathers hot Nutella on it.

The night ended with us sitting in an alley, joking around with Apollo and his men, eating delicious giant Nutella sandwiches. After that night, we saw him very rarely, usually riding through town on his Vespa, but we will always remember that one mystical night with the legend, our night with Apollo.

FOUND NOTE #1

When searching around in my attic, I found this note: super drama, and the UT post-it is priceless.

The text:

"I have some things to ask you
They'll probably strike a nerve
with you but I still
need to know
What were you thinking when
you said you loved him
I'm sure you wosn't(?) it you
just like yo mean it now."

ONE NIGHT STAND DOVE

Last night when Matt finished working for Zingo, I was still up writing, and he's like, "Guess what I found in the park today?"

To explain, this said park is downtown-- one where the hobos sleep at night. (I refuse to disclose the exact location in case it might cause the place to lose it's magic). Matt has gone there several times to kill time while waiting for rides and has always discovered something amazing.

Tonight he says that by the hobo bench there was a dove. As he walked closer and closer to the bench to lay down, the bird didn't budge. Then he reached down to the dove, and it climbed on his hand and he pet it for a while. That's his story anyway.

So I'm like, "asgj!k@$%!, a DOVE?" Yes, apparently it was a real live feathery holy peaceful loving cute-as-fuck dove.

I'm shocked that he didn't call the president or something, like "I deserve a Nobel Prize, I'm cuddling a wild dove." Instead he nonchalantly mentions it to me hours after the fact.

So I plead, "Take me to your dove... and Whataburger sounds good too." We head off to see the elusive bird, and walk into the dimly lit park of all strangeness and mystery. Matt's walking around by the fountain like, "Nope... I don't see it... Oh wait! Here it is. Exactly where I left it." Then he picks it up triumphantly, "See!"

The dove hops off his hand and waddles around on the grass, trudging through sprinklers, and we follow it blissfully, taking turns holding it and petting it. We want to take it home but decide to let it be for the night and come check on it in the morning.

The next day on the way to the park, we pull over on South 1st to get a cardboard box lying in front on Somnio's to put the dove in. An employee is in front of the store talking to Leslie, and when I ask if I can take the box, Leslie turns around and says, "Your boyfriend can have this box!" as he smacks his own ass.

Everything was going so right, but when we got to the park, the dove was no where. I miss Walter so much already. Walter. His name was Walter.

"GETTING RETARDED" IN SICILY

Whilst abroad, there seems to always be that one tourist, or group of tourists, that reminds me why we Americans have the reputation that we do. That group here happens to be from Texas, studying at the same University as my group. When I meet people they say, "Ohhh, you're from Texas." And I quickly clarify, "Not with that group." 

About a week ago I was at a bar with several other girls, and he stumbled up, wearing kaki pants and a light blue polo with the collar popped. 

"How's it goin'?" he bellowed. 

"Is this the first bar y'all have been to tonight?... That sucks! This is like our third one! We've been taking so many shots. It's my birthday. LET'S GET RETARDED!"

He goes on to explain that he's turning 25, so he's getting drunk to forget how "old" he is, to which Lauren responds calmly. "I'm 25." Now people at tables near us are listening in, and they laugh uncontrollably at the exchange. 

Realizing that his efforts are lost after that comment, he leaves saying, "We're gonna have a party at my apartment after this... Well, get drunk for me."

In his defense, this was one of the most quoted conversations of the trip to date. He is like our mascot, in a way. We're always thrilled to see him strolling the picturesque streets of Ortigia, standing out like a true Texan. We pride ourselves on blending in much more, but I'm sure we're just as bad in our own way: a pack of foreign photographers ravaging the town, making the same photographs as everyone else, claiming them as something of our own. 

But at least we're not, you know, getting retarded.

THE JUNGLE IS NOT OBSCENE

VAMPIRES MOSTLY

Last night I went to my friend Willie's house to watch Robo Vampires in the tiki lounge area of the warehouse he lives in.

Basically the movie's about some people trying to ship cocaine in coffins but the corpses react with the coke, becoming cracked out vampires that can only hop like bunnies for some reason.

I kept falling asleep during it, and the only thing weirder than the actual movie is random scenes of it viewed in half-sleep delirium state.

The next morning: woke up to rain & hail, went back to sleep. Woke an hour later to scorching sun.

Saw a vampire biking by-- not a robo cocaine one.

Court's on a plane to Italy. I ate prosciutto in her honor.

TALENT

Today was the talent show at the middle school where I work, and I'm still amazed that 2 of the 9 acts were the dance to stanky leg.

SEGWAYS

I'm waiting on these three people at lunch. They're about in their late 20s and really laid back. They say it is one of the girls' birthdays, so I suggest they have a drink since the cocktails are awesome.

The guy says with a smirk, "I'm not sure if we should. We're going on a segway tour later."

I can't tell if he's serious or not. No one laughs, they just all smile, perhaps ashamedly.

So I say, "Aren't those things basically impossible to crash?"

He says, "Maybe so, but we probably shouldn't push our luck."

FIXING THE ICE HOUSE

This fine afternoon I was eating leftover sushi on my front porch while my roommate and her girl read books. We were all startled when a brightly dressed hobo with a walking stick hollered at us: "Can I borrow a dollar?" 

He seemed annoyed when my roommate and I told him we didn't have any money, and he felt he needed to justify his request. "My debit card stopped working." Disdainfully he added, "You really need to fix that ice house," in reference to the old igloo-like chiminea in our yard. 

Our ice house is just fine, thank you. 

THINGS WE SAID TODAY

I'm talking to a lady sitting alone in the restaurant where I work. She gets a call and says, "Hmmm. 759-.... This number sounds familiar." She picks it up and when I return she says, "It was my ex-husband."

At the middle school, a group of kids come over to my board game table. I ask them what they're going to play, and they say they're going to LARP. I say, "how are you going to LARP inside? I thought that was an outside thing with costumes and fake weapons." One of the boys says, "We'll just talk like this...." (insert Shakespearean voice) "Will you be the eagle or the lion?"

LIL' BOOTS

GOOD FRIDAY

Today we went to see the passion play in Milam Park, San Antonio.

Babies were hoisted on shoulders.

Some women covered their heads.

Others talked on cell phones.

All I could think of was the patients at Santa Rosa who, looking down from their hospital rooms, saw Jesus being beaten in the plaza while the crowd yelled "Matale, Matale." 

A BRIEF TRIP HOME

Court and I come home for a day to find that my mom has installed a pull-up bar in the doorway of the guest bedroom. "This is how we're going to get ripped!" she says, but none of us can do a pull-up.

We go to see a re-enactment of the crucifixion downtown, and it ends up being hilarious. Afterward we debate if Jesus was wearing a wig, and I'm sure he was because his hair looked like it belonged to Farah Fawcett or a go-go dancer.

We agree that San Antonio never gets it right.

We eat at Mi Tierra. We go see the Danville retrospective exhibit at Blue Star. We look for shoes at Nordstrom Rack.

We have an Easter egg hunt, and in my eggs I find $18, a Cadbury egg, and a wind-up owl.

My mom cracks up and says, "At this funeral last week..." She tells us how the man next to her "sounded like a cartoon dog" when he sang the hymns, and she almost lost it during the service.

We go see a dinner play of the works of Shakespeare abridged into an hour and a half. The comedy trio drags me out of my chair to play Ophelia, and my family lets me hang out to dry. I embarrass myself.

SURPRISE

When I was leaving my lunch shift, the stairwell to the parking garage smelled like fresh, tropical pineapple-- a confusing yet pleasant surprise.

At the middle school, we attempted to raffle off an absurdly huge chocolate bunny in a wicker basket. We called out numbers in vain, and by the time we announced a number someone could claim, one of the students had stolen the prize. I laughed about it in the back of the cafeteria as my boss preaches into a microphone, "Whoever took that bunny needs to give it back!"

FORTUNE COOKIE

Good work, good life, good love, good-bye oppression.

Sometimes fortune cookies can be so profound. 

PICK-UP LINE: 3

I'm leaving work, and this dude in a jumpsuit is washing windows with a soapy rag attached to a long pole.

He says, "How you doin' today?"

I say, "Good. How are you?"

He replies, "You sure look good."

Ummm... You look good too?