Holiday Odds and Ends pt. 2

Can you believe in all the years that I have lived in Austin I had never visited the Stevie Ray Vaughn statue until this past Christmas?



Some 10 years ago my X and a bunch of friends and I stumbled up and down the grassy knoll near Town Lake (now called Lady Bird Lake) trying to find this thing. We were drunk verging on hung over and had been dancing into the wee hours of the morning hence the excursion was not a success. I think we all eventually collapsed under the bridge and tried to blend in with the transient population that night--never mind the plethora of PVC leather and velvet we wore.

In retrospect, I have no idea how we missed it because the thing is huge. My brother waned a pic with good ole Stevie (in case you're a poor soul who doesn't know who he is, Stevie Ray Vaughn, a TX boy, was one of the greatest blues guitarists who ever lived, an inspiration to many rock gods and unfortunately had his life cut short after a tragic helicopter accident after a show in 1990)so Christmas morning, the family set out to Lady Bird Lake on a mission to get the photo and because none of us were drunk (perhaps a tad greasy in the stomach from breakfast at IHOP, but certainly not drunk) we succeeded!



It was a beautiful Christmas day with blue skies, cool crisp winds and bright sun out. A lot of people were walking up and down the lake (which is really a river...too complicated to go into) with their dogs or kids. A lot of other people were paying their respects to Stevie...Apparently the statue is one of the most visited landmarks in Austin, TX next to the capitol building and the UT Tower where Charles Whitman shot down a bunch of students back in the 50's. Anyhow, mom wanted a pic with Stevie too. Here she is snuggling with him:



So of course I had to take a pic too. I asked him to make me a rock god and maybe rub off some of that stage persona onto little ole me. I also asked him if I could have a pony:



(as T just pointed out a second ago, if he made me a rock god, I could easily afford my own pony, so why bother asking for one?)

On the way back to the car, T spotted some beautiful black swans in the lake and I took it as a good omen:


**
Christmas Eve dinner was lovely. Instead of going with a fancy schmancy roasted goose or ham or turkey...I decided to go with store bought tamales this year with guacamole, rice, beans and a big salad since I wasn't in the mood to cook an elaborate meal. Mom make curry empanadas that went really well with everything. As always, Jbro helped me in the kitchen as T took photos:



My best friend Shawn was in town and joined us for dinner. Of course no get together in my household is complete without a good ole fashioned jam session after the meal. Since I bought my brother a new Vox tube amp for Christmas we just had to try it out to make sure it sounded right and all. (For the record, he's getting a stick of gum for his birthday since I spoiled him and went over budget....he's my brother. He's talented. He deserves good gear so I don't mind...)

I think Shawn had a good time:


Brown Dog enjoyed the music as well:


Momma was dancing:


Shawn's looking pretty hot here:


Family pic:


And of course one with my best friend:


***
So, we've got a New Year's party coming up and then a few more days off. Unfortunately, I've been doing contract work a good bit during the break. However, I haven't been so busy that I haven't been able to socialize. Lots of friends in town. Lots of parties. Lots of food and lots of music. Till then, enjoy images of my brother doing a lyrical jazz routine to Benny Bennassi:

Well Shit...RIP Amanda

I can't even begin to describe the multi-level suck-i-tude we're all feeling right now.

Basically my brother got into an icky hit-and-run car accident this morning. In short a red truck in the lane next to my brother's lost control and veered in front of his vehicle. After slamming the breaks to avoid hitting the guy, my brother's car hydroplaned, spun out of control on the freeway (it was raining heavily) and bonked into the truck and ricocheted off into the sunrise. The impact was so bad, car wouldn't start after that incident. Fortunately, two really kind Samaritans helped push my brother's car off the freeway and onto the shoulder.

Meanwhile, the asshole who swerved in front of my brother and caused this accident in the first place decided tear down I-35 and try to get away. WTF? What a moron! First off this is Thanksgiving weekend, so there were tons of people on I-35. Secondly, practically everyone has a cell phone so as this prick was speeding past a whole string of eyewitnesses, a bunch of which who were probably itching to go home as well, there was a lovely chorus of phone calls to 911 in rapid succession. In fact, by the time the police and ambulance reached my brother, a cop car had already caught the idiot in the truck who tried to run away.

As you can see my brother looks okay, but the car certainly doesn't.



He was struck in such a way that he whacked his head into the windshield, but aside from a mild headache, my brother appears to be physically sound. He's pissed off as hell of course. We're guessing the dude ran because had no insurance, which sucks balls, but we've got to thank God in the fullest for seat belts. It's a miracle that no one really got hurt. We're still waiting on more info...

Emotionally this has been taxing for us. I mean, we just lost out dad. To think we almost lost JBro is something too difficult to process at the moment. "Amanda" was my brother's first car and it was a generous gift from my dad. He received it his first year of college with the rationale being that since he commuted a bit he needed a reliable car. As he you can he was a very excited



Fast forward to today and Amanda is now a gnarled heap of twisted metal.



T, my mom, and I joined my brother at the wreckage yard helping him carry off his personal belongings. The freezing cold rain came out relentlessly stinging us repeatedly. That along with the grey over cast skies didn't help anyone's demeanor as we all dealt with this in our own ways. T was of course, was feeling thankful my brother was fine and joining in on cussing whenever we recounted the asshole who took off from the accident scene. My mother resorted to fretting and affectionate nagging wanting to be helpful, but really just getting into my brother's way.





I of course sulked quietly and took photos, my fingers barely able to press the shutter, it was cold out.

I focused on the damage trying to imagine how the impacts happened.






I fixated on the patches of red paint from the truck permanently fused into the surface of my brother's Acura. It had no business being there. Its brash red was adding insult to injury, flaunting itself, commanding attention like blood.




I was struck by how organic Amanda now looked post accident. Her smooth and symmetric lines were now marred by crinkles and blisters and cracks. She could not hold onto all her components. Her entrails were now exposed.



Soggy, wet and dejected we drove home in T and I's modest blue Nissan feeling tired and worn out trying to figure out the best scheme to get my brother back home to Dallas. I sat in the front with my brother's CDs balanced on my lap feeling oddly calm. I asked God to send good karma down to those who helped my brother. I sat back, feeling thankful that T and I were home when my brother called, that we had a functional car, that my brother wasn't hurt and did have insurance, that the accident happened close to home...it could have been so much worse.

New kitten video!

For some reason they look enormous on the video, but really they're not that big.

momma's

I have a cute mom (and grandma):


Cuteness runs in our family. No sexy bombshells to speak of but I think it's easier to grow old and stay cute than grow old and stay hot, so there you go.

It's an ongoing joke that darlin hubby is most useful for getting the cookie jar down from the highest shelf for me. After telling my podcasting buddy Tim that mom was moving in since my father passed away, his response was:

Yes, I remember you saying about your dad. It must be comforting for your mum to be able to come and live with you guys. Now I guess T has to reach the cookies for both of you?

Indeed.

Before we've even had time to even begin wondering what it would be like to have her here in our own home...she found an apartment. It's walking distance from our home, features an attached garage and is incredibly nice inside. Crazy fast, eh?

Goodbye old house

T and I visited 2919 Cane Field Drive in Sugar Land, TX for the last time today. On the way back home we drove up HW71 with a van packed with the last remnants of my mom's "necessary" possessions--pots and pans clanging, boxes of photos a beloved plant or two. But, we didn't have the most important item along: Mom.

She'll come up a couple of more days later after the closing date, but there's essentially nothing left in that childhood home of mine to warrant ever going back. It's cleaned out. All the memoirs and useful items taken out. Mom seems eager to leave as well. The homemade curtains left in the kitchen have very little sentimental value. It's just sweeping and cleaning rooms now. All the personal affects that would spurn any sort of memory, good or bad, are simply gone at this point.



It was near the corner of Planter's and Cane Field that the 5 bedroom 3 1/2 bath red brick abode sat amongst other nearly identical houses in the boring and snotty master planned community we lived in. I can't complain although my first few years living in Sugar Land were pure hell for me. I just didn't fit in with the affluent blue blooded ass holes in my school with their designer clothing and selfish ways. Still, I look back at the sacrifices my parents made to move there to ensure my brother and I got the best education possible. My high school education at WP Clement was especially robust (how many high schools offer Differential Equations and American Sign Language, for instance) and full of opportunities only the well off could experience. For this, I'm grateful.

We put in the pool a couple of years after we moved in. This I never understood since as you know, I hate swimming. So does my mom. My brother, I'm not sure. My dad, however, would do laps every now and then, but had no concept of water chemistry, so he'd throw in fistfuls of powdered chlorine without much thought causing the pool water to be so chemically infused that your eyes would turn red just by thinking about wanting to swim. My dad also made some bizarre attempts at landscaping throughout our stay. There's a massive rose bush growing in the middle of the side lot. Just there. With a rubber plant next to it. Tell me how that makes any sense?

I still recall the two allergy inducing live oaks out front as mere twigs...now they're full fledged trees. The house served as the residence for my mom and dad for the past 21 years. My brother mainly grew up in that neighborhood. I think we moved there when I was 10. It's the house I moved out of to go to college. It's the house my dad died in this past March.

So, without any reservations, the last Chang resident of 2919 Cane Field Drive will be driving up HW 71 with a small suitcase of clothing and my dad's ashes in the front passenger seat...on her way to her new home and her the beginning of her new life to Austin, TX. I know mom's excited and so are we.

champion dog paddler of the world

(current beverage: Lambic. It's from Belgium not Germany *gasp*)

I hate water. I really do. I don't mean I hate drinking it or bathing (I rather enjoy soaking in a tub), but I'm just not a huge fan of beaches, so-called lakes that are really rivers, natural springs, pools, water parks, hot tubs etc. I don't even like running around on the lawn with the sprinklers on (unless it's specifically to get my husband excited about lawn work but with fire ants even that can be unpleasant...).

With that said, I am incredibly good at dog paddling.

This probably has to do with how I learned how to swim. When I was 3, my dad just grabbed me out of my mother's arms and tossed me into the Parkland community pool. "To make her tough," he said. Yeah, I learned how to swim pretty quickly...I was also traumatized.

There's also this distinct memory of the time where my family took a day trip to Galveston (the most butt ugliest beach in the world complete with oil slicks and dead jelly fish) on the Gulf Coast. I managed to slip and fall into the murky water and just as I was attempting to come up, a wave washed over the top of my head making it impossible for me to breech. My dad fortunately was near by and pulled me out by my hair and even though I was under water for no more than a few seconds, the feeling of utter terror when I realized I had run out of air and would not be able to surface on my own was terrifying. I think I was 7 or 8 when that happened and I had an almost identical experience during the summer between jr. high and high school at a water park hanging out with my then best friend Jocelyn. Good thing she was a trained life guard.

Anyway, combined with one too many ear infections and a couple of unpleasant kiddo pranks, all of this culminated into me becoming a person who cannot stand putting her head under water.

Today's adventure consisted of hanging out at Barton Springs which apparently reopened for the first time after our long rain season. It's definitely nice, a "crown jewel" of Austin, lovely to look at, yada yada...I just never felt the great need to get into it.

I don't like the sun either.

Let's not forget to add insult to injury when we remember that I also am not particularly stunning in a bathing suit. As we plodded past perfect asses, perky tits, hard tanned bodies and ripped abs to find our patch of rock to put our things on, I was reminded of this repeatedly. Austin is a college town, after all (do large breast float, out of curiosity?). While it's impossible to look hot in this shapeless body of my mine (no ass, no tits, no hips, no waist), I was able to aim for disgustingly cute traipsing around in this ruffly bikini number featuring purple and white gingham print while donning pigtails.

So just imagine, if you will, what I looked like "swimming" after we all managed to inch our way into the frigid 68 degree water. Bill and Anna exchanged curious looks when suddenly T announced with great gusto:

"Cindy Chang! Champion dog paddler of the world!"

For flourish I paddled in a tight circle with my nose in the air while my pigtails dragged in the water behind me like long doggy ears. This trick I am quite proud of. The response was mixed. Anna started laughing like there was no tomorrow. Bill, on the other hand, went: "What's wrong with her????"

My husband explained to his father that that was just how I swam. I loved the touch of pride he had in his voice as he explained this. The first time T saw for himself that I did indeed dog paddle in the pool, he cracked up for a long while and also thought it was the most comical and adorable thing in the world...

"She really needs swimming lessons," Bill offered. He then kept giving me swimming tips.

I explained that I did in fact know how to swim (I was in swim camp in elem school but ear infections put an end to it). I just hated putting my head underwater. I never gave my father-in-law the complicated diatribe I outlined in the beginning of the post so he was now convinced that the real reason I wouldn't put my head underwater was because I didn't want to get my hair wet. Anna countered that I wasn't a vain gal as she floated lazily by on her back soaking in the sun. After a bit, she hollered, "Just leave her alone Bill..."

"You don't think it's cute?" T later asked as I triumphantly padded between the two of them at the astounding rate of 1 ft. per hour.

"No, it's just wrong..."

Anyway, why bother to learn how to swim better when I can be the champion dog paddler of the world?

in laws and coping

I just drank a whole bottle of Riesling in a 15 minute time span. German Riesling, mind you. My inlaws would approve, but I guzzled it down because they're driving me bonkers. They're driving T bonkers too.

I just made hot sauce with 3 habenero peppers, 2 roasted chipotle peppers, 2 serrano peppers and other hot sauce related stuff. Bill, my FIL, likes really hot sauce. He told me if I were to cook for him, I need to make the hottest sauce possible. I know I made it hot because his face turned red when he tasted it and he was sweating bullets but his comment to me was "Oh. It's okay. I can sort of feel the burn." He hasn't eaten any more. My poor husband and step-mother-in-law are drinking lots of water because they thought his comment meant that it wasn't really *that* hot.

I know how to make really hot sauce.

Anyhow, I insisted that I made the batch just for him. Bill pushed the bowl towards me and went "Well, why don't you have some since you think it's that good?"

To spite him I took a huge scoop with my chip and chomped on it in front of him. I think the raised eye brows indicated that he was impressed. I think my hubby is mortified. I'm disappointed in myself for feeling the need to one-up Bill, but oh well.

The fortunate thing is that I can take heat well and if you don't let the substance near the tip of your tongue you're okay. But, here I am typing away, hiding in a sense with a rumbling tummy from consuming a sauce made out of pure hot peppers. My way of calming all of this down is by guzzling tons of this supposedly "super dry" Riesling that Jay got me for my Bday. "Cause you're a sour puss. It's as dry as you are..."

The Riesling is super sweet, BTW.

It's actually really good with a multidimensional bouquet and smooth fruity flavor. A touch of muscat and pineapple I detect...I ain't sharing more than I already have (Anna and Bill each got a sip.) Anyway, either Jay messed up when he purchased it or he really meant to say I was fruit baket. Maybe he thinks I'm sweet.

Or, in my quasi tipsy state, I'm just over analyzing things. Oh well, I don't care. The magic German Riesling takes heat away immediately. If Bill wants a competition with hot sauce, bring in on Babe!

Oy. I'm a mess. Gotta go finish preparing dinner...

Before the in-laws get here

So my father in law and T's step mom are coming in this afternoon. T's sweeping. I cleaned the toilets and put things away, but just can't seem to keep my hands off of the new little-itty-bitty lap top. That's what the pics are about.

I have no idea what we're gonna do when Bill and Anna get here. T's mom is really laid back. Vacationing with her kids means doing regular day to day things with them--grocery shopping, watching TV, hanging out at home and reading, listening to music.

T's dad, on the other hand wants to go Polka dancing. Where are we gonna go polka dancing????

For the record, I've gone polka dancing with my father-in-law three times. Yes, three times I've been pelted with god awful German um-pah music swirling in circles trying to keep my head straight and attempting to stay charming after copious amounts of beer. Bill's a sweet drunk and all, but we can't go polka dancing and hang out at pubs every night!

Bill is really similar to my dad. Highly intelligent, but a bit aloof. He never really opened up to his children as they grew up. Ask my husband what his father likes to eat, the response is: "I dunno....Food?"

After all these years, I do know that Bill like homemade blue cheese dressing (which T's momma sent me the recipe for when she heard they were coming down to visit), Manhattans with no ice (that's whiskey with a touch of vermouth), real butter and anything German. I guess cause he is German and so is Anna, but surely you'd think they'd maybe like to try out a Thai restaurant or something (T's shaking his head no right about now).

Sigh.

I think we're gonna go to Fredricksburg for a day trip and then head out to Schlitterbahn water park in New Bruanfels if it isn't raining too much, check out the Wurst Band one night at Scholz Bier Garten...maybe sing "Deutchland Ist" around a campfire while we're at it.


Ich muß Deutsches jetzt sprechen. Die würde die höfliche Sache sein, zum zu tun. Möglicherweise essen sie fajitas. Sie ist nicht deutsch, aber es ist gutes Tex Mex cuisine.

Scheiße.

kitten update

They're starting to use the litter box all on their own now. Although still drinking Momma's milk, her solid food is of interest and they also know how to drink from a water bowl. We still can't quite figure out what color the white one is going to end up. Her faint grey splotches now sport stripes and although color pointed, she does have one mitted paw. I'm guess Yngwie is going to be a diluted calico.



Etouffee moved them to behind the stereo which is an okay location I guess. They don't seem to mind Benny Benassi or 16Volt, but absolutely cannot stand Charlotte Church. Good for them.



We've got wheat berries all over the house (what one uses for kitten kitty litter since they tend to ingest everything). They were dive bombing into the litter box a couple of days ago just for fun.



Personality wise, I like the grey kitten, Capo, the most. She's very mellow like her momma and inherited a lot of Ragdoll breed traits even though she doesn't look like one. Her eyes are a neat sage green color:



Same with her brother's:


Capo's size comparison with Momma (and grandma):

Cuteoverload

Ha! Etouffee's baby (the white one) is on Cute Overload now thanks to darlin hubby. Just scroll down to June 29th and read the comments. But of course a kitten sucking it's thumbs is a cute thing. I feel so proud of her. She's got internet fame before reaching 2 weeks old! My hand is famous. :) We're beaming of course...and we didn't even birth her.

cute overload

At 6 days old:






Speaking of cute overload...my office mate Sejal (you can see her in this pic behind me, 6 months pregnant and very hungry) finally had her baby girl on Saturday, June 23 at 3:30pm. She was 7.5 lbs and 20.5 inches long and her name is Nitya.



I think she already has the most lovely features and I love her pink cheeks!


Sejal and I work on the 3rd floor of a really old building (used to be a dormitory) that doesn't have an elevator, so as the months progressed it got more and more difficult for her to make it up the stairs. I think all that excercize and Quznos subs produced a very healthy and beautiful baby girl though!

Congrats to Sejal and Milap!