Optimism.
After the morning adventure of seeing her best friend off on a train, she walked into her room towards a breathtaking morning.  She sat at her desk and began to take in the sounds outside her window.  Birds exclaimed their excitement in dozens of different sounds.  Busy citizens hustled in their cars down the hill.  The trees whistled in the quick and hesitant wind.  Occasionally she’d be nearly alarmed by the spuratic barking of the neighbors dogs which would in turn cause to stir the ever nagging geese which were out back.  All would settle and she would hear the soft snoring of her room mate.  She took a sip of her coffee which was infused with a bit of Southern Comfort, given to her by her friend as a parting gift.  She then began to roll a cigarette.  
She opened the tobacco package and picked out a filter.  After placing the filter into the roller, she slowly pinched some tobacco between her index finger and thumb.  She spilt some tobacoo leaves as she started to roll towards herself.  Finally she ceased to roll and delicately reached for a paper.  Steadily, she slid the paper in between the small opening in the roller and began to rock it towards herself again.  At the last turn, she lifted the paper to her mouth and ever so slightly dampened the paper with her tongue.  The paper stuck to her lip as she pulled it away and she quickly rolled the remaing slice of paper.
She released the freshly rolled cigarette in her hand then placed it tenderly between her lips.  She picked up the matches and tore one from the pack.  Holding the match sandwiched between the starter strip and the backside of the label, she swiftly pulled the match to flame.  Quickly bringing the lit match to her mouth, she began to inhale.  In one swift movement, she dropped the pack onto the desk and flicked the lit match into the turtle shaped ashtray.  With her left hand, she pulled the cigarette from her mouth and exhaled, long and slow.  
Smoke cleared the window view and she gazed toward the horse fields and made silent promises to nature.

After the morning adventure of seeing her best friend off on a train, she walked into her room towards a breathtaking morning.  She sat at her desk and began to take in the sounds outside her window.  Birds exclaimed their excitement in dozens of different sounds.  Busy citizens hustled in their cars down the hill.  The trees whistled in the quick and hesitant wind.  Occasionally she’d be nearly alarmed by the spuratic barking of the neighbors dogs which would in turn cause to stir the ever nagging geese which were out back.  All would settle and she would hear the soft snoring of her room mate.  She took a sip of her coffee which was infused with a bit of Southern Comfort, given to her by her friend as a parting gift.  She then began to roll a cigarette.  

She opened the tobacco package and picked out a filter.  After placing the filter into the roller, she slowly pinched some tobacco between her index finger and thumb.  She spilt some tobacoo leaves as she started to roll towards herself.  Finally she ceased to roll and delicately reached for a paper.  Steadily, she slid the paper in between the small opening in the roller and began to rock it towards herself again.  At the last turn, she lifted the paper to her mouth and ever so slightly dampened the paper with her tongue.  The paper stuck to her lip as she pulled it away and she quickly rolled the remaing slice of paper.

She released the freshly rolled cigarette in her hand then placed it tenderly between her lips.  She picked up the matches and tore one from the pack.  Holding the match sandwiched between the starter strip and the backside of the label, she swiftly pulled the match to flame.  Quickly bringing the lit match to her mouth, she began to inhale.  In one swift movement, she dropped the pack onto the desk and flicked the lit match into the turtle shaped ashtray.  With her left hand, she pulled the cigarette from her mouth and exhaled, long and slow.  

Smoke cleared the window view and she gazed toward the horse fields and made silent promises to nature.

A lot has happened in the past two weeks.  Me and Austin Burge have been evicted due to the lack of financial responsibility of our other room mate, Dustin Thornton.  During the past month, me and Austin have been toying with the idea of living in Austin, Texas.  We went down as a vacation a little less than a month ago and stumbled upon a little house on a hillside just outside of the city.  We fell in love with it and with the sudden eviction, we decided to go back down and try to get lease it.  We never really thought we’d be able to live there, but fate stepped in.  We got the house we wanted.  My boss is letting me work from Austin, Texas.  Austin Burge has several job leads, and we are moving to the little house on the hill this weekend.

I am beside myself with excitement.

In other news, I have decided to opt-out of the Navy.  I joined with the expectation of getting a job I could use in the civilian world and was not given the option of such a job.  I don’t feel comfortable investing five years of my life towards construction.  So I’m going to opt-out now and try to rejoin the Coast Guard or Air Force Reserves later on when certain things in my life are more stable.  I feel like I may be letting some people down by doing this, but I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m doing what I feel is right for me.

Life is full of unexpected things and I’m just going with the flow.  Always going through the doors that open, especially when they feel right.

Hubert Street & Lawson Road

My father’s name is Philip Syvelle Phillips. His birth name was Hubert Syvelle Phillips, Jr.  As a toddler, he was affectionately nick-named him “Phil” or “Philip.”  When my father was around five years old, he discovered that his real name was not “Phil” and the temper tantrum he threw was so apparently so epic that my grandparents legally changed his name to “Philip.”  For years I thought that the name “Phil” was better than “Hubert” until I lived on Hubert Street in Dallas, Texas.

My mom’s mother is named Rose Etta Calvert.  She goes by “Rosetta,” “Rosie,” or “Meemaw.”  She has lived on the same street 90% of her life.  Lawson Road in Little Rock, Arkansas.

If I ever have kids…

Homeless Chemist.

My car is currently stuck in third gear and rendered un-drivable, thanks to the valet parkers at Gloria’s.

So I’ve been car-less!  And I’m going to make the best out of it.

Today was my first experience getting to work via Dallas Public Transit. Apparently I didn’t look at the correct signage and hopped on the bus headed the opposite direction I meant to go… Southbound instead of Northbound.  About thirty minutes into the bus ride, I realized my mistake, but felt I should just ride it out and see where it took me… which two hours later was the correct stop.

The first person I saw on the bus was an older, red headed man with a thick beard, messy clothes, and a silver earring in his left ear.  I didn’t pay much attention to him at the time and he got off shortly after I got on the bus.  An hour and half later, as the bus is making the entire circle of the route, the man hopped on again.

Even though my nose was burried in Katharine Hepburn’s autobiography, the man from earlier had no hesitation in striking up a conversation… It’s not very difficult to recognize me with a large sunflower tattoo on my shoulder.

"You were on this same bus the last time I was on it!  You’re a student but forgot your ID today, right?" (The first bus driver had mistaken me for a high school student and asked for my ID.  I told her I was a college student and that I had forgotten my ID anyways. She still gave me the discounted rate.)

He asked what I was studying in college, then volunteered that he had a Master’s Degree in Chemistry but that he was a homeless man in the area, going on eight years of homelessness.  I asked him, flat out, why he wasn’t using his degree and he said,

"Well, I have a little bit of a drinking problem that has lead me to five felonies, DWIs."

The next stop was his.

When I arrived to Mockingbird Station, some guys with a camera asked me a few questions like, “What are your favorite bars?” and “What area in Dallas is best for singles?”  I answered, wished I would have worn makeup, and then forgot to ask where the film would be shown.