surfchick42's Xanga

What is the meanest thing your parents had said to you?

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 15:42:20 GMT

"It's too bad that we adopted you, because now we can't disown you for the crap that you do around here."

Wow. Even though those words have played out in my mind a thousand times since they were yelled at me many years ago, I still can't believe how harsh they sound. I've forgiven my mom for saying them. She was in a bad place. But it's taught me a lesson about watching...carefully....what I say to my own kids. Stuff just has a way of sticking, even if you know it's not true. I can't say that I'm always successful in guarding my words; but I certainly give it my best shot.

I just told you something private and hurtful for the Featured Question; you can answer it too!

"Merry Christmas..."

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 20:11:16 GMT

One of the most interesting outcomes for me since the storm is a new roommate. He's kind of cool, only talks when he thinks someone is really listening, is quite handsome, and entertains all of us.

He's a Timid African Gray Parrot.

I've never owned a bird before, and I'm not sure I really own this one. We found him in a house that had been flooded with 5 feet of water. Apparently, the owners couldn't take him with them when they left, but were considerate enough to leave him on a dresser high enough that the water didn't quite reach him. It's hard for me to think about what he endured: wind rocking the house, the lights suddenly going out, furniture shifting and pictures falling off the walls, sitting in a dark place, stuck in a cage that you couldn't escape, smelling the water slowly rising all around you, lapping at the bottom of your cage, waiting for your owner to retrieve you, while six days passed without food or water before you were found by people you didn't recognize.

When we discoved him, he was wildly flying around his cage, screaming his head off.

Eddie took one look at the bird, and turned to me and said, "When we leave today, we're taking that bird. Too bad for the people who left him behind."

Eddie wasn't trying to be cruel to the owners by stealing their pet; he just simply loves all animals, and is particularly partial to birds. He currently owns a macaw by the name of Paco, and the thought of anyone leaving their bird behind, even given the situation, is grounds for punishment in his book. He just really doesn't understand why anyone would do that.

So "Ike," as he is currently named, came home with us.

The drive from Galveston to Houston isn't a long one (about an hour), and Ike seemed fairly calm during most of the ride back. He flapped his wings and puffed himself out, and hopped all over his cage as we rattled thru debris, roadblocks, and heavy traffic to get back off the island. Sometime after going over the causeway, we began speculating about the owners, and what migh've prompted them to leave their pet behind. I even went so far as to voice my opinion to Eddie and our friend Rob about the conditions the bird probably had to endure for the last week or so. It was sobering to think about, and we all fell silent as we considered the horror of it.

It was in that very moment that we found out exactly what Ike thought about leaving his old home and traveling to a new one: a hearty, loud "Merry Christmas!!" issued from the back of the van where Ike's cage was traveling. The three of us took one look at each other and busted out laughing. That's all it took: encouraged by our laughter, Ike repeated his Christmas greeting and began whistling "Happy Birthday" and snippets of music that were easily recognizable from classical pieces. Each tune ended with another "Merry Christmas" salutation. Truthfully, it cheered us up, and the three of us found ourselves laughing harder than the situation probably merited.

Ike is now safely enscounced on my dining room table. I'm trying to determine where, exactly, I'm going to make his permanent home. And I'm also hoping that I can set my fairly anal standards of housekeeping aside enough to want to keep him. My kids, of course, are crazy about him. And just like Ike, they now feel like their favorite holiday came just a little bit early this year.

Now if I can just get him to stopping spitting peanuts everywhere.....

Ugh.....

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 15:44:36 GMT

For those of you who have sent me messages asking about missing people: there are currently 530 people missing from the Galveston area since the storm.

I don't want to be disrespectful, but let's move on.......

"This resident has evacuated. No need to search the house for bodies...."

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 17:20:10 GMT

I finally got down to Galveston last Sunday. Eddie & I used a friend's magnetic company signs attached to his van to make it thru the checkpoints. Because the lines were so long, the overworked police and military guys were waving anyone thru that looked halfway legitimate. I guess that included us.

The pictures that you see on the news really aren't....well... they really aren't real. In fact, the drive up to the island felt like something you would see in a disaster movie. The devastation is truly worse than you see on "the news at 6." The news can't prepare you for it....it can only make you immune to the shock of seeing it for the first time up close by showing you the same images over and over. My apologies to those of you who would've liked a closer glimpse at what I saw; I just didn't have the heart to take very many pictures of people's lives carelessly scattered everywhere. And that's mostly what you see: huge, incredible mountains of debris, with hundreds of 150 foot yachts thrown in for fun.

The navy was on the island Sunday. They showed up on Friday. It's not being reported on the news (thank God, they learned a lesson from Katrina) but they were dragging the bay for bodies. There are people missing who will probably never be found. And it doesn't really matter what the body count is; it only matters that there IS one, and that the media is at least treating those lost more respectful than they did the last time.

And that brings me to the title of this post: I found a sign on my front door with those words posted on it. Someone who knew me (and knew I was gone) put it there so the rescue workers wouldn't kick my door in. Man, I would hate to have that job.

I'm sorry for such a sobering post, but the magnitude of the disaster and the fact that my family escaped with such little damage is overwhelming to me. I have some other posts that I'm working on concerning the storm, and they are much funnier (to me, there is always humor, even if it is inappropriate sometimes!), but right now I just need to put the sadness out there. Hang with me....it'll get better.

In a bad situation, sometimes you just need to remember the good

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 19:15:12 GMT

I'm thankful:

- that I weathered Hurricane Alicia in '83 with my parents in Baytown (one of the hardest hit areas). It gave me the insight to know how to camp in sometimes unbearable conditions for weeks at a time in a place I used to call an apartment.

- to God for allowing us to have 83 degree weather right now instead of the 95 degrees that is normal for this time of year.

- that I live in a city that has incredible leaders, who refuse to hesitate, don't blame others, and step in and get a job done when there really is no one else. (NOTE TO NEW ORLEANS MAYOR NAGIN: I have always thought, and will continue to think, that you are the biggest, most arrogant fool around.) TO MAYOR BILL WHITE & JUDGE EMMETT: YOU ROCK!!

- that FEMA is available and seriously doing ALL it can, no matter what you might hear, see or read about them. They also continue to work in the face of demands that are beyond them, critisim that they don't deserve, and back-breaking hours in the heat.

- for all the rednecks in this area that remind me that sometimes hard times are made easier with a bunch of beer and a spontaneous barbque (hey! the meat's going to go bad anyway)

- for my friend Rusty Vann, who at 7:30, Friday morning (19 hours before the storm hit) called, drunk off his butt, and yelled in the phone at me: "the water is already up to my nuts in my house!"; for his sense of humor in a very dangerous situation. Rusty got off the island with his girlfriend, his two dogs, a pair of flip flops, t-shirt and baggies. His house is one of the ones that is no longer around. He lost everything, yet is still funny, kind and thoughtful everytime I've spoken to him since.

- to Eddie, for helping me dig my parents' house out from under all the debris, for cleaning my carpets as the power came on, for helping me to feed and shelter others, and for just generally putting up with my crappy attitude when the stress and worry got to me.

- for a pair of levis cutoffs and white boyfriend tank: it makes looking fashionable and sexy, while smelling like a pig, a no-brainer. (yeah, ok, I can be totally shallow in the middle of a crisis.)

- to the builders who put togther my "love shack" beach house on Galveston in 1935. Although it is a mere two blocks from the beach, it has now survived 5 major hurricanes: the storm of '45, Carla, Alicia, Rita and now Ike. From all eyewitness reports (I can't get down there to check), I have about a foot of water in the bottom, and my fence is completely gone. Otherwise, the house remains intact. It's a small miracle that the original glass remains in the original windows on the upstairs floors.

These were taken Thursday night, September 11, 2008 after boarding up. Thanks to my cute girls for the artwork!!!

Finally, I'm thankful to ZZ Top for writing "Balinese:"

"Deep in the South of Texas
not so long ago,
there on a crowded island
in the Gulf of Mexico.
It didn't take too much money,
man, but it sure was nice.
You could dance all night if you felt all right,
drinking whiskey and throwing dice.
And everybody knows
it was hard to leave.
And everybody knows
it was down at the Balinese."

Balinese Room, built 1929, Galveston, Texas, September 11, 2008

That song pretty much sums up my thoughts about a number of the places on the island. We had alot of fun in this landmark....and we all thought for sure that it would be around forever. What's left of it now litters the Galveston Seawall.

I know that there is so much more to be thankful for: no injuries to my family or friends; gas in my car and plenty of water to drink; a great employer that understands that taking care of your family is much more important than working; and a million other things. But right now, I have people who are patiently waiting for me to feed them, and I need to go. Texans are strong people; we'll be back up before anyone else realizes that we were ever down. Talk to you soon.

Steph

IKE

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 13:59:45 GMT

It's going to be bad.

I know because I was down on the island boarding up my house yesterday, and already the beach was gone.

Now all we can do is wait and hope we have enough supplies to get us thru the next few weeks.

Easy Update

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 17:41:18 GMT

Gas for a 12 hour round-trip car ride with girlfriends to the border between Texas and Mexico: $130

I look scared!!

Cost to actually cross the border under military patrol: $2.30

The snipers on the roof and guards checking our cars wouldn't let me snap their faces.

Lunch, tequila and beer with good friends in a place called "Canada": $51

I think I'll order Tex-Mex next time.....

Watching your friend get thrown from a mechanical bull after drinking aforementioned beer: Yeah, you know....

I didn't get the actual shot of her flying off; or the one of her laying on the ground because I was too busy trying to figure out where I was going to hide from her husband after I got home and explained to him how we broke his wife!

Let's just say that she could barely walk the next day, and her shoulder and leg look like she had lost a fight. I'll post some girl talk later, after I've collected my thoughts. We're thinking of making this an annual trip.

Who ya gonna call....?

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 17:47:29 GMT

I'm headed down to Mexico tonight with a few of my girlfriends. My passport has been in my purse all week in anticipation of this trip.

I'll make sure to take a picture of us as we cross back over the border brandishing guns in the air, wearing our straw somberos and cheap mexican dresses, and still swigging nasty mescal tequila.

Does that sound like a movie in the making, or what? "Thelma & Louise" gone really wrong.

As I would say to my buddies: "I feel a sin coming on, girls...."

A Mother's Revenge.....

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 19:32:42 GMT

Remember those slumber parties where you stayed up until 4 or 5 in the morning?

Ever wonder what the parents were thinking, knowing they still had to get up the next day and make things happen?

7 am, Saturday Morning

I just wish I could've gotten a picture of 9 girls screaming when I popped that balloon!!

Happy Birthday Junior & Nutcracker Girl!!!

Girl Talk - A short email exchange

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 18:19:48 GMT

CG's Email from her husband's email address: “Hey Mamacita! I’m back! Any drama going on?"

Steph Answer : “Hey!! So glad to hear from you. It makes me so happy to see 'Mr. CG' sitting in my in-box!!"

CG's Response: It makes me quite happy when Mr. CG is in my box as well!!"