What the?

guess the body part


Hahahaha
While going through some pictures taken tonight I noticed this. HOLY CRAP. It looks like the flesh of an orange!...but pink

I have got to do something about that.

Sick of feeling sick

For some strange reason I have not been feeling well lately. For the past, oh, month or so? I've felt sick after eating at least once every day. Regardless of what it is I've eaten. Within twenty minutes of finishing my Bajio salad last week I was so nauseated I almost asked my manager to send me home early.

As I began to drift off to sleep last night I was hit with stomach pains. Ouch!

Right now, once again, I am feeling the waves of nausea. I had two little handfuls of raspberries about three hours ago, and had a sandwich and a Diet Coke several hours before that. No reason to be in pain again.

Grrr!

Some people suggested I go gluten-free for a bit. (*gasp* but I am the Carb Queen!) Others suggested I cut out sugar entirely.

I Googled several things and basically came up with two lists: foods that can cause nausea and foods that contain gluten. Between the two there is nothing left. Uh...potatoes, actually. So it looks like I will remain the Carb Queen with a plain baked potato in hand.

Mr Striker is the only hope we've got

Uh, I gained 11 lbs last week. Uh.....oops.

naked lightsaber battle

Marty the Slurpee Man

----------

Susannah: "Ba dun dun dun bada dun ba du ba dun dun dun badun dun..."
Meridith: "Could you...not?"
Susannah: "You don't like my banjo version of the Wicked soundtrack?"
Meridith: "Haha, no. But the real question is: did you realize you were doing that?"
Susannah: "Hahaha, nope."

----------

Susannah: "Yes...yes it is. Why yes it is. Yes. Why yes it is."
Meridith: < stares wide-eyed >
Susannah: "Don't look at me like that! If you look at me like that I won't feel comfortable being weird with ANYONE!

----------
Honeyman: "You are a dork. A funny cute dork."

----------

Honeyman: "On a first date you have to be...more girly. I mean, you're capable and like guy things, which is cool, its one of the things that makes you the perfect girl, but you need to tone that down at first. You're kind of...I don't want to say a 'manly girl' but..."
Susannah: "Thats ok. I'm a manly girl. I'm OK with that."
Honeyman: "No graphic tee shirts for at least 3 dates."
Susannah: "Hahaha, ok, deal. So skirt and heels?"
Honeyman: "Yes. Definitely heels."
Susannah: "...what if its skirt, heels, and graphic tee shirt? hehehe."
Honeyman: "No."
Susannah: "Come on!"

----------

Susannah: "I haven't been on a date in like four years!"
Meridith: "...with a guy."
Susannah: "HAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAHA, touché. But I didn't know I was dating the lesbian until she told me The Rock was the only man she'd go straight for."

----------

Susannah: "DON'T CHUCK MARTY! ...ya jerk."

----------

Honeyman: "Whats that rattling sound?"
Susannah: "Your mom."

----------

Honeyman: "They're two geeks. There is going to be a naked lightsaber battle at some point."

----------

Susannah: "In the movie [17 Again] Zac Efron and Thomas Lennon get in a lightsaber battle with a master replicas force fx lightsaber. I want that!"
Honeyman: "What?"
Susannah: "I want a master replicas force fx lightsaber! They are like $90 to $180 depending on where you get it."
Jessica: "Whats a lifesaver?"
Susannah: "That pains me."

----------

Susannah: "I want one. The red one. Just so you know: I want one."
Honeyman: "No."
Susannah: "Come on."
Honeyman: "No."
Susannah: "I'm just throwing it out there: I want one."

----------

< phone rings >
Susannah: "Hey!"
Sarah: "Hey."
Susannah: "So guess who I just got a call from...oh wait, sorry, you called me. I shouldn't just start talking."
Sarah: "I just read this article...the president of Iran says his country is racist."
Susannah: "... ? ...Was that the reason for the call?"
Sarah: "What? No."
Susannah: "Oh, ok. Bwahahaha"

----------

Brady: "You seem so happy and have a lightness about you and you have a spring in your step that you haven't had before and it makes me so happy to see you that way."
Susannah: "Oh."

----------

< whispering during church >
Susannah: "I cut myself shaving! Look at this..."
Susannah: < throws leg over Ryans lap >
Susannah: "Can you see all those little cuts?"
Honeyman: "Uh...yeah."
Susannah: "Oh. Was that inappropriate?"

----------

chance of thin skin and hair loss

Oh lets see here...

Friday the 3rd:
* My big sister Deborah gets into town with her hubby and 3 sons.
* 4 of my 6 sisters, my mom, and I go to dinner at Olive Garden (after waiting 75 minutes in the foyer. kid you not.)

Saturday the 4th:
* I notice a scratchy throat...uh oh.

Saturday Night:
* I'm down for the count. Sick again.

Sunday the 5th:
* 101.4 fever
* I'm awake about 4 hours total. TOTAL.
* I can't recall a worse sore throat.

Monday the 6th:
* 104.2 fever at the crack of dawn. Dying.
* I sleep all day again.
* My big sister Elizabeth surprises us by driving up with her 3 kids.

Tuesday the 7th:
* More sleep all day.
* 102.4 fever
* I climb into bed for the night at 8:30 p.m.

Wednesday the 8th:
* Fever is back... 103.0
* I go to the doctor, a new guy, and he runs tests.
* I am diagnosed with a regular ol' virus (lame) which has become bronchitis because of my asthma (even lamer)
* I begin to feel a teeny bit better. I venture out to IKEA with Deborah.

Thursday the 9th:
* I do not wake up with a fever. HALLELUJAH!
* My big sister Elizabeth leaves back to Las Vegas :'(
* We pack into two cars and drive up to Idaho.

Friday the 10th:
* My little sister graduates from Brigham Young University-Idaho
* I do not have a fever, but am still coughing up my respiratory system. Thanks, bronchitis!

Saturday the 11th:
* I wake up coughing. Shocker.
* I have the worst earache I've had in years.
* I help my little sister pack up her belongings in the truck.
* We pick up my parents from their workshop.
* We finally head home.


Yeah...it has been a long week.

living in the headache

Remember how I suck at life?

I remember that.

I also remember how I was on my way to school this morning when I turned left at an intersection and was awfully close to the car next to me so I pulled George in tighter to my left and accidentally jumped the median.

I remember the sick feeling I got when I realized my tire was flat.

I remember the freaking out I did when I tried to call my school to tell them I was less than TWO BLOCKS AWAY and would they please, please, please let me come to school late?? (There are harsh [as in: kicked out of the program altogether] penalties for not attending on Saturdays unless it was pre-arranged. This was certainly not pre-arranged.) I remember the crying I did while on hold with the school for FIFTEEN MINUTES only to find out the receptionist thought she had transferred me, when she really hadn't. I also remember how frustrated I was when I was told I could not attend and that we would discuss the penalties for not attending when I next saw her. Oh great.

I also remember how flustered I became while trying to CHANGE MY OWN TIRE. (Although relieved a bit at realizing I may look like a linebacker but I'm still very girly-girl.) (I did have Ashley's help though, talking me through each step on the phone.)
I also remember the apprehension at letting someone help me (especially because the guy pulled up in a large window-less molester van.)

And oh boy do I remember how annoyed I was when I realized my front tire was flat as well! And when I drove on the flat tire all over Summerlin (Ok, from Boca Park to Village Square to Spring Mountain) looking for a tire place.

I vividly recall the myriad of emotions that ran through my system as I crept along with my hazard lights a'blazin' and George shaking like he'd had a few too many Red Bulls.

And I remember the negotiating, crying, calling of the Daddy, crying, and installation of the new tires.
And then the relief.

(Momma, this photo will add 25 cents to the phone bill because I sent it from my cell phone. My computer wouldn't recognize it as a Bluetooth, so I had to text it. I will give you the 25 cents when I give you my payment.)

(And then I finished the paperwork for my Nevada State Board of Cosmetology licensure written exam and it is officially being FedEx'ed in today. Hallefreakinglujah. And I was told because I have proper documentation (receipt for the new tires) there will be no disciplinary action for my being absent today. HALLEFREAKINGLUJAH.)


I remember how I got to work a half-hour early tonight, a little drained emotionally but otherwise feeling A-Okay.
I remember how I was in a conversation with my manager when, mid-sentence, my heart started skipping and fluttering and I tried to take a few deep breaths but suddenly my breath was gone completely and quickly my sight went dark in a way I can only explain as the opening credits of a James Bond movie. The closing in until you can only see him shoot the gun. And then there was only darkness.

I remember grabbing at the wall as I was losing my sense of balance, and slumping to the counter when I lost it completely.

I remember telling my coworker, Natalie, and my manager, Judy, that I was about to faint. I remember standing up, trying to shake off the feeling, and everything going black again.

I remember sitting with my head between my knees for an hour (well, my head somewhere near my mid-section while my chin drowned in cleavage. I told Judy I have far too much flesh for my head to actually go near my knees.) while my manager brought me orange juice and straw. (haha, cute.)

My big sister came to the store and took me home. And that is how I find myself in the position I am now: Slumped very carefully, chin propped on a pillow, taking things slowly and carefully. Any sudden head movements and the room starts to spin. (I was in bed for a while, but started getting nauseated...Oh joy.)

Dear Life,
May I please have two solid weeks of no crying, no car malfunctions, no stolen money, no forgetting my wallet at work and remember it after I've set the alarm and locked the door, no anxiety attacks, no fainting, and no having to make Daddy I'm in trouble phonecalls?

I would be very grateful and would probably lessen the gnawing on crappy foods merely because I've had a horrid day, have a more cheerful attitude toward customers, stop telling Annyong he's short and annoying, and shower more often. (haha)

Smooches,
Susie

An update

Thursday- sniffle, sniffle.....headache.....Excedrin

Friday- sniffle, sniffle.....migraine.....foggy head.....cough, cough.....Sudafed

Saturday- Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....NyQuil

Sunday- no voice.....cough, cough.....Theraflu

Monday- squeaky voice.....cough, cough

Tuesday- voice not quite right.....occasional cough, cough



I have a strange appreciation for being sick. It gives me an opportunity to relax that I otherwise wouldn't have given myself. There is no way I could have justified sleeping ALL DAY Saturday. And I love that sleep that comes while having a cold. Once you get past that Holy-crap-I-can't-breathe! part, the heavy-head-hits-the-pillow part can come. That absolutely exhausted (I'm-on-NyQuil) sleep is amazing.


I went to the grocery store in pajama pants. I could feel the shame of Clinton Kelly and Stacy London.

"If you're going to dress like you just got out of bed then stay in bed." -Tim Gunn

Almost every item of clothing I own is in a HUGE pile covering my bed. This pile is about six feet long, five feet wide and almost four feet tall.
I am trying to organize this into some sort of user-friendly system.

Every time I organize my clothes I learn something about myself. The last time I cleaned my wardrobe (in january) this was the lesson:

I learned that my wardrobe looks like it belongs to three different people. On one hand I have some weird knitted tops that I really should have said thanks-but-no-thanks about. I wear them from time to time, but they have never been upgraded to a standard rotation. They go with the dresses that look more like a 40-year-old church-going black lady than me. But whatev.
On the other hand I have my usual outfits. My tall dark-wash flared jeans, my knee-length bias-cut skirts, my wide-cuffed trousers, my empire-waist blouses, my silky halters, and my tunics. The most overused pieces in my entire wardrobe.
On the third hand (yes, three hands; it strangely fits here) there are all my WHAT THE CRAP?! outfits. My tight stretch pants, my booty shorts, my terry cloth capris, and my huge collection of graphic print Tshirts including many Monty Python, Star Wars, and Nintendo themes and my current favorite of the Pillsbury Doughboy with the words "Love me, Squeeze me, Take me home" across it.

No wonder I'm so weird; I've got three personalities stumbling around in here! And it just gets messy when they try to merge. (I am often guilty of wearing my Super Mario shirt with a little skirt and high heels. Hmmm.)

This time I am learning that I wear the same three shirts with the same two skirts and all the rest of my clothes mysteriously appear on my floor. Also: If its not pink its black. I need some new colors. Also: If I'm not in jeans or a black skirt or black slacks I am in pajamas. I really need to expand my wardrobe when it comes to the lower half. I need Tim Gunn.


I've become enthralled with Tim Gunn's Guide to Style. I think I've only seen three episodes, but I love it nontheless.
"I would wrestle you to the floor of Bloomingdales before I'd ever let you out in the real world wearing this."
"When did Hillary Clinton pay you a visit?"
"She is the Mayor of Hooterville."
"It's a very quick route to dowdiness."

Unwrapped

DUDE, I'M PUMPED! My roommate, Jeanine, had the cable company come by this morning. Tah-dah! I officially have The Food Network in my bedroom. This is a first. I have never ever had good TV channels in my bedroom. I've had fuzzy Telemundo.

Yeah. I need a social life.



On the other hand, maybe its not a good idea to have The Food Network in my bedroom. That channel does nothing but make you hungry. Ooo, but this is pretty cool.


2004 / 2008

Unbreak my heart

For the past four or five years I've often had shooting pain near my heart, which only lasts a few minutes but gets worse if I breathe or stretch. It usually occurs when I'm sitting, or when I first get out of bed.

If I mention that my heart is hurting someone always says "that's just heartburn". Oh really? So back when I was on pills for acid reflux I actually had NO IDEA what was going on and THIS sharp pain in the left side of my chest is actually what I should have been feeling then? Well, at least now I know.

(Apparently I have a soapbox I didn't realize sooner.)

After an entire day of freaking out several times because HOLY CRAP, MY HEART HURTS! I started Googling various things again. For the millionth time.

I finally came across Precordial Catch Syndrome, and have decided I can finally relax because yeah, it hurts, but this is probably what it is and they says its harmless. Bring on the pain.

From Wikipedia:

PCS manifests itself as an intense, sharp pain typically below the left, but sometimes right, nipple or breast which is worse when taking breaths. This typically lasts 30 seconds to 3 minutes and then is resolved as quickly as it began.

PCS has consistent characteristics. Its symptoms begin with a sudden onset of anterior chest pain typically located just below the left, or sometimes, right nipple or breast. The pain is localized and does not radiate like heart attack pain typically does. Breathing in, and sometimes breathing out often intensifies the pain. Typically this causes the patient to freeze in place and breathe shallowly until the episode passes. Episodes typically last a couple seconds to 3 minutes. The frequency of episodes varies by patient, sometimes occurring daily (or even multiple episodes each day). This is believed to be localized cramping of certain muscles groups in the locality.
Although deep inhalation during a PCS attack will likely cause an increase in pain, many have found that forcing themselves to breathe as deeply as possible will result in a "popping" or "ripping" sensation which quickly and completely resolves the PCS episode.
PCS episodes happen most often while sitting or lying down, and being inactive.
The cause of PCS is unknown. It is speculated that it could be caused by the pinching of a nerve. There is also a correlation of PCS to stress and anxiety. PCS is often seen to occur during rest or a sudden change in posture.
There is no known cure for PCS. However PCS is also not believed to be dangerous. Therefore PCS is generally seen as a mild inconvenience. Perhaps the worst part about PCS is the fear that this chest pain is an indicator of a heart attack or other dangerous condition, so therefore a correct diagnosis of PCS is a relief. PCS should not interfere with normal activity, and there is no reason to use any form of medication.

and the large and the shakes

They say you shouldn't go grocery shopping while hungry. Hunger has nothing on insane hormones.

I was out of pickles.

Although I've been extremely exhausted all night (it must have been all that watching TV I did with Lukie today, sheesh; CSI will wipe you out), I wasn't even halfway through my 35 minute drive home when I decided I must get pickles! ("Alright, ma'am, apparently you want some pickles." Ah great, I'm gonna have that stuck in my head all night.)

So I went on my pickle outing very determined to get a bottle and be done with it. Oh wow, that didn't work out so well.

I knew I was screwed when I started sobbing mid-aisle because I couldn't decide between regular Cap'n Crunch or Crunch Berries.

So I finally got out of there with a jar of pickles, a loaf of bread, Cap'n Crunch Crunch Berries, bagels, and a bag of pretzels. I earn my title of Carb Queen.

"You were the one to whom he reported the sighting!"

I've been doing the math...and boy does my brain hurt.
If I need around 2700 calories to go about my day, then 2200 would be the goal for a 1 lb loss weekly, therefore a 1800 kcal goal would equate to about a 2 lb weekly loss, yes? Thank heavens I'm tall!


11:00 a.m. - One nectarine and some yogurt (200 kcals)

12:00 - Whole wheat bread with red pepper hummus, chicken, and pickles (440 kcals) and 10 Fritos (160 kcals)

2:00 p.m. - Fruit & nut bar (140 kcals)

2:15 p.m. - Fruit & nut bar (140 kcals)

4:50 p.m. - Lean Pocket (240 kcals)

6:15 p.m. - Animal crackers (200 kcals)

9:50 p.m. - Lean Pocket (240 kcals)

11:30 p.m. - One nectarine (100 kcals)

Total= 1860




I'll update with a real post soon. I've had no attention span lately.

The pen is mightier than the comb

Lawyer
Archeologist
Geologist
Astrologer
Author
Hairdresser
Professions I've always been interested in pursuing.


I have been thinking about this list recently, wondering if I made a wrong choice with becoming a hairdresser. Although I know differently, it seems like the idiots choice. A cupcake profession. Froufrou and simple minded. Every day I sit in a class with some of the ditziest people I've ever come across, and it is so frustrating because I'm not dumb! I'm more intelligent than I come across because I'm not necessarily all that eloquent (and I'm a bit of a spaz...ok, quite a spaz.)

I have loved Earth sciences for as long as I can remember (I have a soft spot for metamorphic rock.) I've loved law since I got hooked on Perry Mason as a six-year-old. And I overdid every English writing assignment, turning them into the first few chapters of my latest novel.

I am pretty fond of one I wrote in 11th grade that was to be a thriller set upon the Titanic...random, yeah, I know. I was supposed to write a short story with a historical setting. I had a difficult time choosing between the Titanic and the Communist Hollywood blacklist of the 1950s...because I'm odd like that.

I've decided to start writing again. I've been motivated by my big brother, who has a few chapters of his stories and a few poems on his blog. He is an amazing writer and I wish he'd finish (and publish) a few of his stories, because I'm left hanging, wondering whats going to happen next... And I've been motivated by Stephenie Meyer. (Don't vomit, Sarah.)
I only knew of Twilight because it has such a pretty cover (the hands and the apple) and when I found out that Stephenie wrote that awesomely-covered book I got a little excited every time I saw it in a store. "Hey look, Stephenie's book is in Target! Lets move it from this obscure out-of-the-way place to the Bestsellers Rack, he he he." After Tashina got addicted to the first two she demanded I would have to read them because she'd mail her copies to me. I said I'd read them when the fourth and final came out. I started the series a few weeks ago and now I only need to get a copy of the last one, which was released recently. (I wasn't all that serious, though I do enjoy the fact that I don't have to wait years to find out what happens, unlike those who became fans early on. I started reading them because they were Stephenie's books; I kept reading because I enjoy them. [It is like I told to Sean Murray during a conversation about me liking him for his work (his opinion) or liking him for him (my opinion): I didn't start watching NCIS regularly because I loved the show; I started watching because Sean joined the cast. I kept watching because I loved the show.])
I haven't really gotten into any books since the Harry Potter series ended, and now that I've been carrying a book with me everywhere I go (especially written by someone so nice, who shares my love of Conan O'Brien) I've been motivated to start writing again.

I haven't written anything in about...four, five years? A handful of song lyrics here and there, but eh. I'm not creative enough to write songs about relationships/breakups when I don't have experience. Unless my new song is entitled "That Guy You Hung Out With A Few Times And Now Has You Blocked On Every IM Client"

Now your bangs are curled, your lashes twirled, but still the world is cruel/wipe off that angel face and go back to high school

For years I've debated whether or not this was too personal to comment on, but it has come up in several conversations recently and I was surprised at my openness about it. So that kind of made my decision for me.

Even on blah days there are things I like about me. I really enjoy my height, although I would love to be an inch or two taller. I enjoy my sense of humor; I make me laugh all day long. I love my intellect; I may not be a total brainiac, but I can follow along pretty well. But I hate my legs.

My legs are long (hip to floor is around 40"), curvy, muscular, and strong. I like all that. I don't even mind that I have the spitting image of my Daddy's legs (muscular, manly) rather than my Momma's legs (lean, feminine.) it is just the shape of them that drives me batty.

My calves do not touch. At all. When standing normally my ankles are 7+ inches apart. (I'm having fun with the measuring tape today.) It is called genu valgum (or knock-knees, but my legs aren't turned inward, as is the case with many knock-kneed people) and is more common in overweight females, but a glance through my scrapbook confirms that I have been this way all my life.
I noticed it when I was about 9-years-old, I think. I really don't remember how I figured it out, or why I was even paying attention to it. When I was in my early teens I showed it to my mother and she said she'd never noticed.




Because of this I do not walk like a normal person. My feet are turned slightly outward...like a V, but with a 7 inch spread...so if I do not pay attention to what I'm doing I look very Caveman. Rather than flexing my calves like a normal person, I use my glutes and thighs. (Experiment time: Stand up, put your hand on your behind, turn your feet out a bit, walk around. You'll probably be using your glutes, too.)

I wear flared jeans rather than bootcut because the flare fills in the gap. Oh yes, it flares inward. I don't wear skirts that skim my knee, they all hit just below. Unless I stand still and point it out, its not completely obvious...or so I'm told.

When I stand I usually cross one foot slightly in front of the other, hopefully creating the illusion of normal legs. I get accused of "posing" often. Also, it takes a lot of concentration to turn my feet in, and to do so I usually end up slightly crossing my feet as I walk. Therefore I am accused of doing a runway strut down the sidewalk. Lovely. I'm some poser because I'm trying to look more feminine than Cro-Magnon.








In the past few weeks I've been asked several times if I would consider modeling. The goofy attention whore in me screams yes. But then my rational side takes over and screams louder: AREYOUFREAKINGKIDDINGME?!


Do I have a point? Not really. It has just been on my mind.

Too diRRty to clean my act up

I am not exactly what you might call a Neat Freak. I'm a bit of the opposite. Ok, I am a disaster. Ya know, when you watch the "hoarding" episodes of Oprah where the lady has entire wings of the house blocked off by stuff...and you start to see a bit of yourself there? hahaha

(I last time I totally cleaned my room was the day Heath Ledger died. Oh and The Dark Knight premiered tonight...huh.)

What drives me absolutely bonkers is when someone doubts me or tells me I can't do something. Because Ryan and Zack are coming down in just over a week, I've been saying that I'm going to clean my room in preparation. And suddenly everyone feels the need to comment on the state of my room/house/car/life. Sheesh, folks! Even Elizabeth asked, "But are you really going to do it?" Dang it all.

When I got home from school I chose a section of my room to work on (as this is definitely a multi-day project) and started cleaning.

The pictures are blurry because I still can't figure out how to make this dang camera cooperate with me.


Before... (I know! I know!)





After...










(gee, do I like movies much?)

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that your face will be orange for a while."

My alarm was set for 5:05 a.m., which means it was 4:52 a.m. when it blared whatever song happened to be on the radio at that moment. (I have a habit of setting clocks ahead, "so I will be on time". Anyone who has ever asked me to be anywhere at a certain time knows what a hilarious statement that is.)

Having fallen asleep merely four hours earlier, I was not prepared to be awake. I flung my legs over the side of the tall bed, hoping to miss one of the many piles I have strewn about the room (in an pre-cleaning attempt.) After stumbling across the room, I slammed my hand down on the snooze button and threw myself back into the warm embrace of my twelve pillows.

This dance was repeated several times until the clock glowed 5:29 and I had finally come to terms with the need to put on clothing. Because my legs are silky smooth (thanks to hot wax being poured over my flesh and every hair savagely ripped from its sheath) I chose to wear black capris today, accompanied by a thin turquoise shirt that gets that stretched out look if I mess with it too much (which I always end up doing.) I ran my fingers through my hair, hoisting it up into a high, albeit lumpy, ponytail. Makeup is and always will be too much of an effort in the 5 o'clock hour.

I arrived in the parking lot at 5:44, which, by a happy coincidence, was the very moment I decided I would not make it through 7.5 hours of work today without a very large, very cold Diet Coke. I sent George into a U-turn and pulled into the Del Taco drive-thru line. I saw one white truck ahead of me with construction equipment in the bed, and was relieved there were not more people. However, when I realized this guy was taking years with his order I glanced in my mirror only to watch myself get trapped in the drive-thru by another large equiptment-filled truck. Blast. So I clocked into work 4 minutes late with my 44 oz cup in hand.

My hilarious little Mexican coworker is named Virginia. She is widow, a mother of two, and a grandmother of six. She constantly yells out empty threats and "Ooo, I want to kill somebody!" when she finds errors. (Which is a whole heckuva lot funnier coming out of her mouth than I could ever type it. Something along the lines of "I cchhhhwant to KEEEEL tsome BODY!")
Today Virginia and I had the task of retagging every single shoebox, pair of socks, handbag, pair of sunglasses, etc because of a new sale. We have little handheld scanners that are really fun to use (I'm horribly easily amused, but come on...its got a little red laserbeam and everything!) but they need to be synched with the corporate database before we can use them.
I updated the scanners yesterday, and both stated "reflects tomorrows pricing" when starting up.

I popped in my earbuds and started my stand up comedy playlist on my iPod. It made time go a lot quicker and soon three hours had passed. I had started on one end of the store and scanned and tagged every single mens shoe and then I did womens sizes 8 1/2 through 12. Virginia started on the other end and we met up in the middle. As I finished with my very last box I glanced over my shoulder at Virgina's racks. EVERY SINGLE PRICE WAS DIFFERENT THAN MINE. Ah, crap! My scanner hadn't synched!!!

The morning wasted, I placed my scanner back in its cradle and took to opening the store. Near 12:30 p.m. I finished retagging everything I had incorrectly retagged earlier.

(Be kind to your salesperson. They are tired and you say stupid things like, "Now this just isn't fair! This same shoe is in another size at only $8 while here it is marked $12.99." and they have to refrain from SLAPPING YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD and yelling "WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS LOUD BEEPING SCANNER AND THIS CART FULL OF PRICE TAGS IS FOR?! YOU SAT AND WATCHED ME RETAG AN ENTIRE SIZE AND YET YOU ARE BRAINDEAD ENOUGH TO SAY THIS?! GET OUT OF MY STORE!")

Thankfully my older big (ahem, little) sister Elizabeth came by the store with Luke in tow, just as it was time for me to leave. We headed to Target where Liz had to get some flashlights for Girls Camp (haha, Elizabeth camping, hahaha. [she is the ward yw camp director this year, tee hee!])

After Elizabeth dropped me off where I'd parked George I headed toward the library. As I neared that part of town I realized I was near one of my very favorite places ever. Oh yes, I was driving past an Office Max. I immediately pulled in and found myself in a Sharpie Mecca.
Although you can never do enough office supply perusing, I had to get to school! So I left there begrudgingly and pulled in the parking lot just in time to clock in. (Thweeeeet.)

After a freakishly long (216 questions!) study guide for a tricology test I'm taking next week, I asked permission to get a facial. I have the most rocking instructor ever, and she obliged.

My aesthetician introduced herself with, "Hi, I'm Suzie." I replied, "Hi, me too." but I really think that one flew past her. She handed me the Velcroed-Towel-For-Someone-Way-Smaller-Than-Me and showed me to a room where I could "change into it." However, as I can not really change into something that is being held together by possibly three barbs of the Velcro, I chose to merely wrap it about me.


After climbing onto what is essentially a padded table, wrapping myself in blankets, and propping the included pillow under my knees (following directions as to lay flat more comfortably), Suzie wrapped my hair in a terry cloth cap and unclasped my bra straps for me. (Haha.) Then began the most relaxy (hehe) hour of my life.

I have gotten facials before. Many of them. It comes with the territory of hanging around with aestheticians all week. But this was the most rockingest facial ever. Perhaps it is because I am now used to the hot steam, and no longer painfully gasp after trying to hold my breath as much as possible? Perhaps it is because I have been dead tired all dang day and any chance to lay down was welcome? (Eh, that may play a part.) Or just because it was truly the most rockingest sllllllooooooowwww facial ever. As much as I love all the face massagey stuff, my favorite parts are the high frequency therapy, the two hand massages, the heat mittens, and the décolletage massage. Dude, she used her fists in this weird way along my collarbone. It hurt at the time, but the second she moved away it was like Ahhhhhhh. Suzie suggested we get together for a weekly facial, or every other week if I don't have time. Thweeeeet.

I know it is professional courtesy (or whatnot) for the aesthies to do the skin of the cosmos and the cosmos to do the hair of the aesthies without question or pay, but I loved everything Suzie did and she was super nice so I tipped her all the cash I had on me--a big $3. She took it with a broad smile and an "Oh, you're so sweet!" ...Which is how I accept my measley $3 tips as well. Come on, I just did four hours of work on your hair and we had a great rapport and what would have normally cost you $120 [at least] only cost you $35 and you throw three of them my way? :'( I'm not bitter, I'm just sayin'.


Although not much beats being slathered and rubbed for over an hour, I'm going to try to continue my trend of relaxy by curling up with my twelve pillows now. I have the day off tomorrow (finally!) and have planned a date to see Kung Fu Panda with Luke in the morning. Woot.

Stunning

Susannah: "Hi, welcome to [the store], let me know if I can help you with anything."
Random Lady: "Wow, hello. Are you aware just how pretty you are?"
Susannah: "Uh...no?"
Random Lady: "Stunning."
Susannah: "Oh, uh, thanks."
Random Lady: "I just got a pedicure a few stores down and wasn't expecting to run into anyone like you...hang on [fumbling in purse] I'm a makeup artist [pulls out her business card] would you be willing to be a model for me?"
Susannah: "Haha, sure, why not?"


Apparently she has not studied my earlier work.




(It lost a lot of its funny in the shrinking process. You've got to click it and make it big to really get my humor. You know I was laughing just about as hard as possible during each one of these.)

I don't care what my teachers say, I'm gonna be a supermodel

Sometimes I have absolutely no problem with my extra curvy self. Sometimes I will walk by the large bathroom mirror one more time, just to pause and pose and smirk. These moments usually involve a black lace bra and curly hair. And by sometimes I mean tonight.

But then I stepped on the scale I keep in front of the bathroom counter (obsessive, moi?) and realized I am up 18 pounds since I left town a month ago. Eighteen pounds. What is that, a toddler? But then I realized I have had one 12 ounce can of Diet Pepsi and two 44 ouncers of Diet Pepsi and two 44 ouncers of water and my bladder contends with my liver for larger organ. And then I realize I am actually only up 3.5 lbs, which is only a preemie.

So I went down my list of excuses of why I can not work out tonight.

* It's so late, and I have to be up early.
I have the day off tomorrow, so I don't actually have to be awake until 4:00 p.m. Blast.

* I hate working out when my roommate is home.
She is asleep, and does not wake up at small sounds like pounding on a treadmill. Or honking of a car horn, or banging on the door, or repeated slamming of the doorbell. I learned this the day I forgot my keys.

* I don't know where my sneakers are.
Oops, they are right next to me. Blast.

* I don't know where my inhaler is.
Oh, there it is.

My hair is curled/straightened/not in a ponytail, and I don't want to get it sweaty.
I was going to take a shower anyway. Blast.


So dang it, I guess I'm getting all sweaty and sore tonight.

oh, my lips so luscious/the way I spice it up with the MAC MAC brushes

It's difficult to not feel like a superficial twit when every day I have to be a ...well...superficial twit.

Did I ever mention that I have to have full makeup on when I go to school? Yeah, I do. There is an instructor (not mine, thank heavens) who will send you out of the classroom until you're makeup is on. It's all part of the dresscode. And if you're nails aren't done, oh you will hear about it! We have to present a professional image at all times. Blah blah blahdy blah.

So yeah, I spend a great deal of time thinking about my hair, makeup, and nails. Hahaha. So something dumb like accidentally cutting my bangs shorter than I meant to REALLY puts a damper on my day.

Oops. I was just texturing them, but I was using a new razor...I got a little overzealous.




I darkened the hair on the bottom. :) I'm trying to get rid of (ahem, disguise) the red I had down there.

Oh, and I shaped my eyebrows, which I was pretty pleased with. I mean, they're not great but I had to work with what I had naturally, hahaha.




Although I'm an intelligent, capable woman, I end up thinking "curled or ponytail?!" all day long.

"Everyone thought Batman was gonna win, but Green Hornet's got the moves"

Aaah, I can dish it out but I can't take it! I am bad at doing these when I'm tagged. I'm knocking out three birds with one post, k?

From Sariah

8 Things I am passionate about:

1. My nieces and nephews
2. My other family members
3. The hair industry
4. Business stuff

...I really have no idea. 'Passionate about' is such a strong phrase.

8 Songs I can listen to over and over again and never get sick of:

1. Sabrina theme
2. Yentl soundtrack
3. Any Jonny Lang CD
4. Any Duncan Sheik CD
5. How Can I Remember - Sabrina soundtrack
6. I Need You - The Beatles (George Harrison)
7. Garth Brooks Greatest Hits CD
8. Oh heavens...broadway showtunes of all sorts

8 books I’ve read:

1. Janet Evanovich's alphabet series
2. Sue Grafton's number series
3. Harry Potter 1-7
4. World Book Encylopedia 1984 A-Z
5. Nancy Drew - all of them
6. The Hardy Boys - all of them
7. Stiff: the Curious Life of Human Cadavars by Mary Roach
8. Portrait of a Killer- Jack The Ripper: Case Closed by Patricia Cornwell

8 Things I say often:

1. I know, right?!
2. Hola, chica.
3. You're killing me, Smalls
4. Sheesh!
5. Oh my.
6. Oh sweet heavens.
7. What in the honk?!
8. Hahahaha

8 Things that attract me to a friend:

1. Sense of humor
2. Nice
3. Understands my dorky personality
4. Fun
5.
6.
7.
8. I have no idea

8 Random things about me:

1. I sleepwalk. At least I used to; I think I am far too exhausted nowadays. Sometimes I would wake up in a different place than I went to sleep. Or Deborah would wake up and see me standing at the edge of her bed, staring at her strangely. She'd tell me to go back to bed and I'd walk out of her room.
2. I don't like showering/bathing. Well, no, I like the actual shower/bath...I guess its just the having to start everything over part. Finding new clothes, redoing my hair, etc. I've been that way for quite a few years.
3. If I have pizza delivered ("I've got the Pizza Dude coming!") I turn on all the lights and turn on music and pretend there are other people in the house.
4. Everything is an adventure to me. I don't just go to the grocery store; I go on an outing! I overdramatize just about everything.
5. If I'm at home I'm usually wearing little if any clothing. Far too hot, far too uncomfortable.
6. I have a smiley face on my right upper thigh from tanning lotion. Everytime I think about it I chuckle.
7. I'm convinced my neighbor can see into my bathroom window. Sometimes I wave, just in case.
8. I consider Triscuits and smoked gouda cheese a meal.

8 Things I want to do before I die:

1. Everything.
2. Travel everywhere.
3. Learn a language; probably German.
4. Get out of debt.
5. Do the family thing.
6. Learn to love to run...that may take a while.
7. Become successful professionally.
8. Be old.

8 Things I’ve learned this past year:

1. I stress out ea.si.ly.
2. My family is awesome.
3. Money and I do not get along.
4. I should be my dorky self as often as possible.
5.
6.
7.
8.



From Lisa


10 years ago I was:
Awesome. In junior high school. Man, 1998 was a great year.


5 things on my to do list today:
* Take George for a smog check
* Take George for an oil change
* Go to the DMV: get a new drivers license, renew George's registration
* Go to Elizabeth's house
* Pack my suitcase



Things I would do if I became a billionaire:
Pay off my debts. Put a few hundred million in savings accounts with large interest rates. Pay off siblings debts, and give a chunk to them. Travel everywhere. Build a house or two. Ya know, the tithing and donation stuff.


3 of my bad habits:
Procrastinating anything that stresses me out.
Laughing at inappropriate times.
Being passive agressive.


5 places I've lived:
Orem, UT
Orem, UT [new house]
Provo, UT
Las Vegas, NV


5 jobs I've had:
Queen of the xerox machine
Receptionist
Pimp of home decor
Pimp of womens clothing
Pimp of reasonbly priced footwear


Something most people don't know about me:
I've looked into being in a pageant. Oh my. I decided against it, hahaha.


From Meridith

[i moved number 1 because it's huge]

2. The last movie I bought: X-Men, I'd forgotten how much I like the first one.

3. The last movie I saw: Mad Money. Entertaining enough while I was cleaning my room, but not one I'd buy.

4. Five movies that mean something to me: Cinderella, I asked for it for Christmas when i was 3, it has been one of my favorites since then. Pride & Prejudice, I love watching the entire 5 hours with Meridith. A Christmas Story, hello tradition!

1. The total number of movies I own: Just over a hundred

Zoolander
Cool Runnings
Shawn of the Dead
Mr & Mrs Smith
Sneakers
The Saint
Clueless
Mission Impossible
Mission Impossible 2
UHF
Lara Croft Tomb Raider
Lara Croft Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life
Welcome to Mooseport
Flipper
The Little Rascals
Casper
Leave it to Beaver
Trial and Error
Rat Race
Legally Blonde
A Sound of Thunder
The Matrix
Casino Royale
Sabrina
The Bachelor
Bed of Roses
Laws of Attraction
Don Juad de Marco
Dogma
Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise
Cousins
Flushed Away
Bill & Teds Excellent Adventure
Timeline
One Fine Day
The Cable Guy
Gung Ho
Star Wars III Revenge of the Sith
Taxi
The Fugitive
Mystery Men
Hot Fuzz
Sliding Doors
Clockstoppers
Minority Repoert
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
TMNT 2: The Secret of the Ooze
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Baby Geniuses
You've Got Mail
To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar
The Goonies
Sleepless in Seattle
Moulin Rouge
The First Wive's Club
Muppets From Space
Muppets Take Manhatten
The Princess Bride
Back to the Future
Back to the Future 2
Back to the Future 3
Coneheads
Paycheck
Notting Hill
About a Boy
Pretty Woman
Ghostbusters
Ghostbusters 2
Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
LotR: The Two Towers
LotR: The Return of the King
Catch Me If You Can
Breakfast at Tiffany's
X-Men
X2
Yours, Mine, and Ours
Labyrinth
Life or Something Like It
The Fifth Element
Help!
Throw Momma From the Train
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
13 Going on 30
Pride and Prejudice [LDS version]
Entrapment
The Truth About Cats and Dogs
Freaky Friday [Jodie Foster version]
Love Potion #9
Jumanji
Ella Enchanted
Beetlejuice
The Singles Ward
Finding Nemo
The Babysitters Club
Superstar
Mean Girls
Win a Date with Tad Hamilton
Trapped in Paradise
Grease 2
Hot Shots
Hot Shots part Deux
What About Bob
CSI:NY season 2
Perry Mason season 1 vol. 2
Arrested Development season 1
The Office season 1