A Real Blast From My Bloggin' Past

Dated: November 24, 2004

Princess Kina-Bina and the Evil CEOgre, Part 1

Once upon a time, in a magical place called EDS, there was a Princess known as Kina-Bina. This princess was under a spell. She had to do whatever the CEOgre told her to do or she wouldn't get her paycheck to pay for her Noble Stead, Charlie, a silver Chevy Silverado.

So one day, the evil, ruthless CEOgre told her to weave a golden website. All. By. Herself. The evil CEOgre had taken away all her helpful servants.

"Out of what shall I weave it?" The princess asked.

"HTML codes," he answered, gruffly. And he left her with one week to finish this terrible and hopeless task.


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Princess Kina-Bina and the Evil CEOgre, Part 2 (as told by the princess herself)

Princess Kina toiled and struggled, dreaming fitful dreams of failed HTML code validation and overlapping div elements. But she kept coding and drawing and repositioning and recoding, and finally, after one week, the new web site was done. It sparkled in the sunlight, bringing joy and relief to her click-weary wrist that was numb from many days worked late into the night.

At last, her noble steed, Charlie the Chevy Silverado, would be safe. "They will never take away my baby", she promised as she petted his dashboard. Then she got in and went for a spin. Charlie neighed and revved his engine, spinning out in the parking lot, taking her away to The Movies where only good things happen to good people... most of the time.

Soon it was time to present her handiwork to the Evil CEOgre. With her best friends at her side, she marched up to the Evil CEOgre's office and showed him all that she had accomplished. The Evil CEOgre looked and clicked and said hmmm many times. And then he turned to her and said, "I like it." The princess smiled.

"I wove it with the lightest cloth that I could find", said the Princess.

"It is very impressive. I will use it everyday", said the CEOgre, who magically transformed before her eyes and was not so Evil anymore.

The next week, it captured everyone's praise and company login ID as it zipped along on their computer screen. People who had never spoken to Princess Kina before soon were offering to help and wanting to know when they, too, could have a web woven by the Mistress of Web.

Princess Kina could only smile and say, "You'll have to wait for Phase 2."

Save to > Memory Lane

I sat at Starbucks for almost an hour this morning, waiting for my parents to get back from Dallas where they were buying a car. An Infiniti. Because one Infiniti is not enough. They finally pulled into the parking lot, Mom driving the old Infiniti, Dad driving the new one. The new one is gold.

"Old lady gold," I said.

We sat together in the corner while Dad read all the papers and the manual. He looked up suddenly, offended at my comment. "Is not!"

Mom chimed in, "I love the color."

I smiled. "And what are you?"

"An old lady."

"I rest my case."

Dad explained to me all the old-lady-gold Infiniti's amazing features. "Did you know this car has a steering-wheel heater?" He said it with such profoundness, like the caveman who discovered fire. WARM HANDS. WHILE DRIVING. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING? Yes, Dad. We call them gloves.

We left Starbucks. I drove with Dad in the new car. I turned on the radio. The Eagles. Dad turned up the volume on the nifty little steering-wheel controller. We sang along. We're already home. Just sitting in the driveway, singing "it's a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowing down to take a look at me!" at the top of our lungs. It sounds dumb, but it's one of those rare memories that I hope I remember for a long, long time.

Coffee Boy

This is a story about what my sister refers to as "poetic justice".

I'll begin with telling you about him. His name is Dustin. He was my first serious boyfriend. I was in love with him, or at least I thought I was; I can never be sure why. I mean, we made some wonderful memories. We danced in the kitchen. We took hikes in the woods. We made each other mix-CDs. We just sat on the couch and cuddled. I just wish I could remember those more instead of the bad memories...

The bad ones would not exclude him having sex with my then-best friend, denying it, then admitting it, and saying it would never happen ever again. Guess what? It did. I was crushed. Crushed. Its the only word that seems fitting. Like being stomped on until you've shattered into a million pieces, like little shards of glass. I can't count how many times he would email me and I would angrily (and sometimes tearfully) send a reply, my mind set to ultra-bitch-death-ray mode.

This was over a year ago. After a while, I just started ignoring his emails and he stopped sending them.

He works at Starbucks now. The one right by my house that I always go to. There's absolutely nothing wrong with working there. I imagine it's an excellent job. And while I feel a sad twinge in my stomach when he hands me my venti caramel frappuccino and seems too scared to even look at me; you have to admit, there is a sort of irony in the fact that the boy who stomped all over my heart now makes my coffee.

Yeah. I really love happy endings.