I finally got to see ‘Romeo & Juliet’ at Shakespeare in Delaware Park last night. I love Shakespeare, I love being outside, I love theatre; smashing combination. Most of the cast was good, but I must give a big bravo for Paul Todaro who played Mercutio. He was outstanding! It’s neat to think some 400 odd years ago, people were sitting about the stage listening to the very same words that fell upon my ears. Isn’t that amazing? I took this photo, it seemed appropriate.


When Shakespeare was done I went in search of sustenance. Pizza was attempted, but everything seems to close so early. I ended up grabbing some spinach and rice at Pano’s. Tasty. At 12:30 there was an interesting procession of about 3 dozen bicyclers cruising down Elmwood. Little bells ringing, streamers flapping, squeaky horns honking… can anyone fill me in on this? Ciao.

I really wanted a Heineken but I stupidly left them all at my friend's house. What to do, what to do. All I had at home was a bottle of vanilla vodka, but I didn't want it straight. So I took a nice tall glass of ice water and added a shot. Holy YUM Batman! Who knew? Ciao.

I know the Superman Ride of Steel is old news around these parts, but I just had to share my thoughts. I've been down in Texas for the last 8 years so I missed its debut 6 years ago. I'm a total coaster enthusiast. Well, adrenaline enthusiast is more like it. I'll most likely do anything that puts you on the edge, though in my book coasters aren't really edgy – just plain fun. Right, well I must say it is a superb ride. I love great coasters without the restricting shoulder harnesses, allowing freedom of movement for my arms to shoot skyward and increase those gratifying moments of 0 G. No complaints with a first drop of 208 feet at a 70 degree angle! I broke into hysterical laughter as the 73mph wind was actually jettisoning tears from my eyes like a busted hydraulic hose! I am continually awed by engineering achievements in the coaster world. To think that in 1985 The Viper was a top dog looping coaster, today, it didn't even tickle my tummy in the slightest. I checked out the new Tornado water ride but thought it was a bust. Sure dropping down the shoot backwards was nice, but every time we hit the center whitewater I was tossed like a rag doll and my ass actually slipped through the raft. Ouch.

I'm heading out to Canada's Wonderland next month to check out The Italian Job stunt coaster. I think it was built just for me. I have a crush on the Mini Cooper S: electric blue, dual racing stripes, sunroof, and all the extras please! One day I'll own one and I'm going to re-label all my toggle switches to say things like 'ejector seat', 'acid slick' and 'rocket launcher'. I digress. To put a Mini Cooper S on a coaster track and have things blowing up around you...it's just what the doctor ordered for Lady Croft! Yes, I've been on my namesake coaster, Tomb Raider; my only complaint is that the designers seem to have missed the fact that some women actually have breasts. Lying on your stomach, squished in a 'chest area' fit for a 12 year old boy was, shall I be nice and say, unpleasant? However, I am a trooper, and I'm sure I will ride again. Oh, and I must pay homage to a great classic wooden coaster while I'm raving. If you're ever in NYC, take the subway out to Coney Island and ride the Cyclone. It's a master marvel built in 1927, well worth the $5 ticket!

Your name is important, whether you like it or not. It's an external identifying factor that separates you from the masses. Remember how excited you would get finding that bicycle license plate with your name on it? I don't. I never will. If my name is on anything it's because I put it there. My name is uncommon, and it wasn't until my late teens that I began to appreciate its uniqueness. As a child I faithfully watched Romper Room in hopes of hearing my name on TV. At the end of every show the woman would hold up this 'magic mirror' and look out to the viewing audience, she would then name all the kids she saw. I was front and center of my TV set, willing her to see me, just this once! But she never did. I would hear, "I see Brittany and Bobby, Jennifer and Jason", and I would think to myself, "Biatch – you said those names 3 times this week!" The point is, at long last there is redemption for Timika! I came across a posh hotel in my name, but it gets better. There's an airport called Timika and even an entire town named Timika, in Indonesia! Maybe my name is Indonesian. I was named after one of my mom's army buddies, but no one ever knew the origin. You might think I'm silly for getting so excited about it, but when you've spent your entire life defending your name, it's big potatoes. Now you might be wondering how it's pronounced anyway. The best tutorial I can offer without speaking it, not that speaking it guarantees you'll say it right either, is to think of combining the name 'Tim' with 'Micah'. Tim-micah. Timika. Got it? Ciao.

As I write this a part of me is dying. Just 3 hours ago I was outside taking a walk with one of my dogs, Twigi. We sat down under some trees and chilled for a while. As we started to walk back to the house she started vomiting. Not really a big deal, it happens. What's not supposed to happen is your dog collapsing. Just like that, she just kind of sat down and slumped over. I knelt down beside her and she let out a quiet groan. I stroked her a few times, tried to prop her up on her feet, and she just fell down. I scooped her up and rushed her into the house and called the vet...of course they JUST closed. I got the information for the nearest 24hr emergency animal hospital...20 minutes away. I drove like a bat out of hell. On the ride over she seems to be improving, her pupils less dilated, she even licked her teeny tiny teeth. I explained everything to the doctor. Her temperature was normal, he didn't feel anything abnormal, and her colour was good. I had hope. An hour after we returned home he called us. X-rays didn't show anything, but her pulse is dwindling, we can't do exploratory surgery. She's most likely going to die. WTF!!! One minute I'm enjoying a stroll with my pooch and now she's dying on some fucking cold table on Grand Island! As the tears burn my eyes I'm washed over with guilt...what if it's something she ate and it poisoned her and she's suffering because I made the choice to take her outside with me? UGH! Then to tell yourself, no, it's the way it is because it was meant to be. Meant to be. My cute little 5 year old miniature Yorkie, bouncing around at my feet and 30 seconds later slumped over in the grass. I'm a mess. My mom is on her way over to sign papers to put her down. My stomach is sick. I don't know that I believe in euthanasia. I don't want her to suffer by any means, but ending her life without at least trying for other options? Are our pets so expendable!?? Then I actually have to compose myself tomorrow morning and go to pick up her body!!!??? Life is so, so delicate. The balance literally decided in seconds. Oh Twigers, Twigerdito, Ye Mighty Twigster, Twigerdoodledoo...I love you so much my furry little munchkin.