Onondaga On the Road and At Home

2006-04-09T03:01:00.000-04:00

Last week I went back to New York to pick up my little brother and sister for spring break. I was looking to travel on a budget so I choose to bring them back to Texas on a train. I decided to pick them up in Syracuse so my dad didn't have to drive all the way to Buffalo and back to his house some seven hours away. I picked up our tickets before I went to Syracuse, I had to show my ID to get the tickets. I had no problems, until we get to Chicago and I find out that I left my ID in my coat pocket in my truck, in the parking lot in BUFFALO. They needed my id to let us on the train to San Antonio. I was freaking out. The train was set to leave at 3:20, at 3:15 the conductor came out to me in the waiting room where I was in tears, with my 3 year old sister and my 11 year old brother. He asked me if we had anyone to pick us up in Chicago, I said no. He told us to pick up our stuff and we did. He told us to follow him. He led us onto the platform and we had to run to the door. We just made the train. Then the fun started. At about ten in the night they announce on the speaker system that there was a train accident in Arkansas and that we were going to have to get on a bus at 1am and take it to Little Rock, where we would catch another train to San Antonio. We didn't catch the bus until 2:30am and by the time we left Little Rock, we were 3 hours late. Our train was supposed to get into San Antonio at 11:55pm, we got in at 3:55am. And I am still tired.

2006-03-02T02:11:00.000-05:00

I am twenty eight and a week today. Last wednesday was my 28th birthday, and it was the day after that, that I realized that I can legaly date some one ten years younger than myself. Not that I am looking to rob the craddle, but it is leagal now. My 13 year old neice reminded me that I can still not date some one half my age. Nor can she date and six and half year olds. The only one at the dinner table that night who could date some one half their age was my mom. And she sounded like she really liked the idea.

2006-01-08T00:25:00.000-05:00

I called Angela today after I woke up with Comedy Central on my TV, they are having a rednexploation weekend, and they had a commercial on for a compliation cd of country music. I made me think that I need to get out of texas, cause I kind of wanted it. I hate country music. It has got to be Texas. The pink is washing out of my hair, it is going to be blonde if I don't do something about it.

So I bought a car today. I bought a 2006 VW Beetle convertible. It is soooooo cool.

2005-12-21T18:09:00.000-05:00

I am back Texas. AND I am so glad to be, as it is really cold and snowy back home. For a while there my sidewalk was magically being cleared every time I left the house. I think I own a snow shovel but I don't know where it is at the moment. The first time I went out after it snowed the public sidewalk was done. Then I went out again the beginning of our sidewalk was done, and then the next time I went out even the stairs were done. I was content to leave it at that but when my mom got home she had to ask around. She found out that it was the neighbor Jean, who was doing it. My mom told her that we were leaving for Texas. She wanted us to turn off all the lights in the house so that there was less of a chance for a fire. I didn't understand. Then my mom had me leave our numbers for emergency and she called the day after we got here, She saw that there were lights on in our place and she wanted my brother to go out and check on the house. My brother lives on the other side of town and it isn't so easy for him to make it out to our house. My mom thinks leaving our numbers might have been a mistake.

I don't really care, because my phone is really working. I talking to my little brother, and I put my phone down and it slid off of the bed and landed into a large coffee cup filled with Diet Limeade. So now my phone won't charge the battery. I just bought it a month ago.

I have done it again

2005-12-10T12:41:00.000-05:00

Two weeks ago I was help some friends with a project for their film class at Erie County Community College. After we finished fliming we went out to eat, up the street from the place where I got my last tattoo. I was kind of joking when I said that I wanted a new tattoo and if the tattoo parlor was open when we finished eat they should take me over there. They took me up on it. This tattoo is on my lower back, it is an old basket design that my tribe in California has adopted as the official logo. The basket was made by like my great grandmother or something. I think it is cool. So now I have both nations that I come from represented on my back. There is a possibility that I am hooked. But I am waiting to see if I am ever going to get a real job before I go for the full sleeves.

Baby faced

2005-11-02T22:10:00.000-05:00

On Halloween I handed put candy for the first time in my new neighborhood. I ran out of candy at about 7:30pm so I called Angela and we decided to go out to the new Dave and Busters here in Buffalo. We have one in San Antonio and I wanted to see how it measured up. We played some games, won some tickets, laughed at a few people and then it was time to go home. I never want to go home nowadays, I am not really fond of coming home to my houseful of animals who decided that now that the my mom the alpha dog isn't home they can poop anywhere they damn well feel like. I convinced her to go see North Country with me. The movie theater is right down the road from the Dave and Busters. So it was convient.
Angela was in the ticket line ahead of me and she paid with a card, so when they asked for her id they told her it was for the card. I paid with cash. I also got carded. FOR A RATED R MOVIE!! I am 27, I believe there is no reason to card me for a movie. I was thinking about it. I am much closer to 30 than I am to 18. The ticket guy looked at my idea and said "Sorry." I think it is because I spent the day at the spa last week and I got a facial, I think that is what does it.
I used to laugh at my older brother, he was 30 and got carded at the Canadian Casino, where you have to be older than 19. Now it isn't so funny.
I tried to buy the Ren and Stimpy DVD at Wal-mart in San Antonio, I didn't know where my id was, and they refused to let me buy it. You have to be 17 to buy rated r movies at wal-mart. I don't know why I looked 16 that day last winter.
My next door neighbor felt the need to ask me how old I was when I told her that my mom was spending the winter in Texas.
Maybe it is because I don't wear makeup all the time. and I haven't had a real tan since I was 15. Or maybe it is the Pink hair.

The Stoner Chronicles

2005-10-25T21:56:00.000-04:00

The Stoner Chronicles

Angelator! (HEY ya?)

2005-10-25T21:55:00.000-04:00

Angelator! (HEY ya?)

My Couch

2005-10-25T21:31:00.000-04:00

I just spent two and a half weeks in San Antonio, TX. My mom and I went down there to get our trucks re-registered and inspected.
The registration, I found out after I got to TX, I did on the internet. I could have done it from Buffalo. And the inspection consisted of a man getting into my ford explorer sport, driving around the parking lot, slamming on the brakes, and seeing if the headlights worked. Both the trucks passed the inspections.

I ordered a new couch for my apartment. I waited for two months for it to be delivered. The delivery company started to call me right after I got to TX. They finally got a hold of me last week. They brought the couch from Rochester. One guy got out of the truck and came into my house. He put his arms up to "measure" the door, I had to go into my mom's apartment to get the chihuahuas out of there. And when I came back the guy said my couch wasn't going to fit through my doors. I spent over a thousand dollars on a custom couch, and they didn't even take it off of the truck. The guy tells me that they can deliver it to another address (?) or leave it on my porch. I tell them there is no where else that they can take it and there is no way they are going to leave my brand new custom couch on my porch. The guy said the only other thing they could do is send it back to California, where it was manufactured. I, being totally at a loss, allowed them to send it back. After which I called Angela and told her what happened. Then I called my mom. She told me to give her the number of the delivery company and the manufacturing company. Cal-mode the company that made my couch, got in touch with my mom, after they called the delivery company, and told her that they were going to try to deliver it again.

This kind of sounds like good news, but I got nervous. What am I going to do if they send the same guys that refused to deliver it in the first place? I am going to feel like an idiot for just accepting that it wouldn't fit. But on the other hand, I am going to be so angry if they can just get into my apartment with very little problems. This whole thing could have been resolved if they had just tried to get it into my house.

Oh and by the way, our Border Collie mix call work a door knob and let himself into the house but he can't let himself out.

My first Picture post

2005-07-28T15:26:00.000-04:00

This is a picture of my second Tattoo. For those who don't know, it is a old design for a wampam belt. This one signifys the alignment of the Five nations of the Iroquis. Now there are six nations but, the last came after the belt so they didn't get added.

This tatto is on my back, just below my t-shirt collar. This picture is a little blurry, so now I wish I could see my tattoo very clearly.

2005-07-27T03:53:00.000-04:00

As I have mentioned before I have a new place, it is currently 3:38am and I am up painting my new kitchen black, under my mother's orders, kind of. As to say it was her that picked out the black. After my entire childhood when I wanted a black room, and we had landlords on the west side who didn't care what we did to the the apartments we had.
The top part of the kitchen is red, Daredevil, and I wanted the bottom part to be bone black, but the old paint guy at my local home depot told me that Ralph Lauren doesn't make a high gloss, apparently he couldn't, in good conscious, mix that color in any other brand of paint. So I had to go with the same color in a slightly less cooler name of mouse ears. Disney Brand. Normally I would love that, but I had a theme going.
The paint is still wet and my chihauhuas have decided to rub their little butts all over any surface with wet black paint. My dogs now have extra spots.
My apartment looks like the Easter bunny exploded all over it, it is a mixture of pale purple, teal, pink and green. But I hear it is totality ME.
I found this website that has some neat furniture. There is a couple of cool couches on it that I am thinking about. It is call Funksofa.com, and that what is has. I am all about customizing stuff.
I also painted a huge purple flower on my bedroom wall. My last bedroom, I had painted a picture of Spongebob Squarepants and Patrick Star. I won't make excuses, let's just go with 'I was bored' and leave it at that. I am trying to find the perfect place in my apartment to paint a big ninja turtle. If you have any ideas, let me know.

My New Tattoo

2005-07-22T23:13:00.000-04:00

Ever since I got my first tattoo, Angela and I have been trying to get tattooed together. My first tattoo was a gift from my brother when I turned twenty five. My birthday is in February and his in July. So when his birthday rolled are around he still had not gotten me a gift. I told him that I wasn't going to get him anything until he got me something. He asked me if I wanted a tattoo. I said sure. He told me to meet him at his bar and he would have a design for me. I thought this was going to kick ass. Not only was I getting a tattoo, but my brother was going to design it for me. The day comes that I am supposed to meet him. I thought we were going to meet at the bar and go to the tattoo parlor, NO! We got tattooed in the pool room of a bar. I see my brother and he hands me a scrap of paper and says "It's not finished yet." I am supposed to be getting this permantly inked onto my body and it isn't finished yet. I internally freaked out. Then I did exactly what I didn't want to do. I picked a tattoo out of the book. It is a nice little seahorse. But not nearly as cool as something that was design specifically for me.

When my uncle died last month, I was out of it. And I decided that I would exchange my emotional pain with Physical pain. I went out and got my ears pierced. Then the next day Angela and I were driving around, trying to think of something to do and I said as I always do "Let's go get Tattooed" and she said yes but not in the same way that she always does. We ended up at the Blue Moon tattoo parlor.

So I have a second tattoo. It is pretty cool, I wish I could see it.

2005-06-03T22:58:00.000-04:00

I have been told recently and more than once that I really haven't written enough. So here it goes. Now that I am back in BUFFALO.
Well, to start with, I have to move. The house I was living in was put into foreclosing because I was underpaying it but about twenty bucks. The house is not in my name so the bank was taking my money and writing checks out the woman who actually owns the house. I wouldn't have had any problem with that, you know if she paid the mortgage with the money. But she cashed the checks and went to Africa. So I was left homeless, kind of, actually I guess you could say that I currently squatting the said domicile, waiting for the closing date on a dwelling that I will own outright in less then a year.
In the middle of all this housing mayhem, My only grampa died. My mother never got along with her own alcoholic father and schizophrenic mother, so my father's parents were the only grandparents I had. My cousin got married recently and Grampa walked her down the aisle on Saturday and died on Sunday. Mother's day. My gramma died nine years ago, when I was a freshman in college, and in my first semester. Anyone who knows me knows how I did that semester, as I like to brag about my .9 grampa. My grampa's death was hard enough to deal with. But not really, you know, earth shatteringly shocking. The Death in my family that was earthshatterningly shocking was that of my uncle Joe. He was only 47, he died of a heart attack exactly one week after his father, my Grampa.
My cousin was getting married right in the middle of my housing thing, and when I sent in my RSVP I wasn't planning to be moving. So I didn't end up attending said event. That is right, I missed watching my Grampa walking one of my favorite cousins down the aisle. They told me that he said he couldn't wait for the wedding to be over so he could rest. He is.
Now I was feeling really bad, and my mom and my friend Lisa who is staying with us, went back to Texas about a day after the funeral. So I was going to be home alone. Normally I would have loved the thought, but after missing the wedding, having to attend a funeral, I didn't really feel like being alone. So I headed over to angel's coerced the gang over there to take me to Toronto. The biggest city I could think of that was close enough to visit in one day, and there is a Ruth's Chris Steak house there. I needed cheering up. So Saturday we set out in Paul's car, because my license is suspended (whole other story), and Angela has had some legal trouble at the border (not my story). I had a lot of fun and started feeling kind of good about my grampa's passing, you know, really getting into the whole "he is in a better place, and with my gramma" thing.
The next day, my stepmother (aka Dad's Girlfriend) Mary called me and said my Uncle Joe died. I have 2 uncle Joes, one was my father's brother, and one is my gramma's 90-something old brother. So I had to ask which one. It was my father's Brother. He was only 49. Needless to say I was a little bit busy, and out of sorts. So I had to go to California where his funeral was being held and the Cauhilla traditional funeral are 24 hour affairs. Someone has to be with the person until he is put to rest in the cemetery. My mother went with me to California. Right after we got back she found out that her best friend committed suicide. He was also like an uncle to me. An unusual uncle, but an uncle nonetheless. We are still not back to normal yet but we are on our way. Plus we have a house that we are working on to move into. This is a multidated post so please excuse the craziness of it.

Angela's link

2005-02-05T02:14:00.000-05:00

High on life, baby. Later Yo!

My Parents

2005-02-03T02:12:00.000-05:00

I know everyone has weird parents, and I am quite sure that mine are no worse than anyone else's. In fact I know that they were very good to me growing up, I am my father's oldest child (that we know of). I am my mothers youngest (we are sure). Today was my mother's favorite holiday, and who outside of PA, loves groundhog day. I love my mom, so I made her favorite dinner, fried chicken and potato salad. I also made a cake shaped like a groundhog. Actually it was a Winnie the pooh cake pan but I cut off pooh's ears and you could hardly tell the difference. I made this grayish brown frosting, that isn't too appetizing but on a groundhog it worked. She loved it. Now for my dad, my friends love my dad. For reasons I don't wish to go into here, he is like their guru. I love my dad, but he also has his, um, quirks. He has a girlfriend who is the same age as my sister's first husband. They have three kids together, two boys and a two year girl. My dad had a quadruple bypass, right before my little sister was born. My father has interesting timing. He also has a son, that was born before my parents were broken up, (sore spot for me). My dad's girlfriend also has three kids of her own, the oldest has two of her own. So my stepsister had her son six months after my little sister was born. So with the heart issues and the babies, my father lost a lot of weight. Not that he was huge, but you know, he was big. He doesn't buy new clothes, he once found a jean jacket that was left in a truck that hadn't been driven in months, it was so full of holes it didn't have any cuffs, but he put it on and it was back in wardrobe. So after this weight loss, he has to find ways to keep his pants up. I was with them a few months ago, and I noticed that my father had tied a bandana to the beltloops on the back of his pants to keep them up. Well, we are Indian and most Indians are NOT know for their large butts, and my father is no exception. Not only he is Indian but he was a union electrician, union men are known for the amount of butt crack they show. I think my little brothers are going to end up joining a union.

At Home

2005-01-20T00:37:00.000-05:00

It is wednesday night and I am sitting at home as usual. At the moment, I am dying my hair red, and anyone who knows me knows this also isn't an unusal occurance. But the thing is I recently got my hair permed and I am thinking red was a bad idea, I am thinking i am going to be seeing Ronald McDonald in the mirror in the morning. Did Ronald have hot rod red hair? It was either this color or Atomic Pink, but it has been pink almost all month, I don't wanna go overboard. I can be doing just one thing at a time, which is amazing for a person who is a disorganized as I am. I am writting, dying my hair, and watching kill bill vol. 1 all at the same time. And yet I can't bring myself to clean my half of the house. I have papers all over my desk, clothes all over my furniture and floor. My bathroom is pretty messy also, but am not making any effort to clean it. It sucks that no one is going to do it for me. I was just in Louisana this weekend, well not really the weekend, just monday morning. We, being me, my mother, her boyfriend, and a friend of mine, left my house in San Antonio at one in the morning and headed east. We got to the casino the ISLE OF CAPRI, at about seven in the morning. I drove until four, so when I was VERY TIRED. Now I start playing and I lose about five hundred dollars, which doesn't help my mood at all. My mom starts asking me what the plan was, of which I had none. I say "Let's have breakfast." Mom agrees and we head outta the casino. The only place to eat is a buffet. I paid for four breakfasts, we get seated and I got a plate and proceed to fill it with overcooked bacon and eggs and a doughnut. I went back to the table and I started eating. I got about half way through my meal when I take a bite of my eggs and something crunches in my mouth. I spit all the food out, and I inspect my plate. There was broken glass all over in my food. We told the waitress and she called a woman who I presumed wass a manager. She gave me fifteen dollars back, the price of two of the meals I paid for. This kind of upset me, here I am being served broken glass and all they do is not make me pay for it. So I took all the splenda and the hand wipes they had on the table. I felt a little better compensated. Other than that I had a good weekend.