Hold me? Continued...

It's day four. I finally kept solid food down last night. My Granddad and my Uncle came and blessed me last night. Because I've been so miserable, I've been listening to all my comfort music, the stuff my dad listened to and sang to me as a kid. Mostly John Denver and Loggins and Messina. It's the good stuff. It's basically as effective as being held.

Good news... I received such a good haircut last week, that even though I have body odor and haven't bathed and I haven't been outside in four days, my hair is looking pretty hot. Without even trying. I'll take my little victories where I can get 'em alright?

Hold me?

I miss having a boyfriend the most when I don't feel well. That's when I just need to be held. I have the stomach flu. It's terrible. I haven't been sick like this in forever. Luckily, I was fine all weekend during my family reunion and got to spend quality time with my singing family and sleep in a cabin in the mountains where it was only in the 80's instead of 100°+. I woke up yesterday and felt kinda tired and by the time I got out of the shower, I was shaking all over and I crawled in my bed and literally couldn't move. I slept solid until 4:00pm and then the sickness commenced all night and into today. I'm hoping that I'm better by tomorrow because I really need to go to school. The good news is that someone brought me a ton of dvds from the Philippines and at least I have lots to watch while I'm home. It's a crying shame that all my cuddle buddies are either married or far away. *sigh* Such is life.

Spook

Three officers from the PD were at my house tonight.
I went to work.
I went to a family barbeque.

I came home and smelled a very strong body odor. And it wasn't me... or my upper lip. I have the nose of a bloodhound. bad smells make me physically ill. my house smelled wrong. And my mom has been out of town. I'm not saying she smells bad and she'll be back in the morning... I told myself that it was my cat and went into the kitchen.

I promptly freaked out. I haven't opened the pantry door for 3 days, it was open. just enough for someone to hide behind. I got spooked.

I acted non-chalant and went in the back yard with my cell phone and watered the plants and tried to talk myself out of being afraid. I almost went back in the house, but freaked out again and called the PoPo.
three coppers came to my house and looked around. I waited for them in the front yard and swore they must have found someone in my closet because I could see their flashlights in there for a while.

But they were just looking at my huge attack fish... or my underwear.

they asked me if I had any problems with ghosts, because they didn't want to deal with any ghosts tonight. listen up chicken-, if it's in your job description... I told them I'd rather face down a ghost than a cracked out meth addict hiding in my pantry with an ice pick.

They nodded seriously and told me my house was all clear and that my fish (underwear drawer) is cool and to have a nice night. I know my house is safe now, but I'm still jumpy. A boyfriend would be a useful commodity right now. I'd make him sleep outside my bedroom door with a samurai sword or a machete.

In other news...
If you put my name into google or yahoo search engines, my site is the first hit. And I like that.

Can they even do this?

PETA emailed me this really hilarious game called, "J.Lo: Fur Bully From the Block, Flee the Fur Ho" and I just had to share. Because it's ridiculously funny. Click the link and go play the game. It's sweet!

Oh Baby!

I should have been asleep hours ago, but I've been blogging instead. I have lots of posts that I've written because they needed writing, but will never see the light of day. I wrote two of those today. They're my eternal drafts.

Yesterday I stayed home from school for some much needed r&r and because my body went on strike after I ate fast food on Monday. It's been a while since I've eaten anything like that and I felt like I'd had a stroke. Tuesday, my body got even. I couldn't leave the house. My mom was babysitting my nephew, Cheeks, and since he's practically my baby, I hung out with him all day. He's such a little angel. It made me so baby hungry. I could barely put him down. He sat in my lap while I IM'd a friend and fell asleep on my shoulder. As I told my friend, I'm torn between the desire to be a wildly successful, jet-setting career woman and just wanting to settle down and be a mama. He pointed out that I'm capable of both; but I know that if I were to reach the level I want to in my industry, my family would suffer. I've worked with children for way too long to want to do anything but raise my babies myself. I'm going to focus on my career right now since I don't have a family and children yet, and take it a day at a time when it does come.

My guilty pleasures?

Conspiracy theories...
Seriously. I'm hooked. I always take them with a grain of salt and when the clerk at my farmer's market started telling me about this documentary, I had to see it. I love that kid. He always starts the most controversial and inappropriate conversations in the check-out line. He's one of my guilty pleasures. I always try to get in his line because there's no telling what'll come out of his mouth. But he's recommended some of the most delicious foods to me cuz he knows what I like, since I'm in there twice a week. He needs a raise. The film was fascinating. You can watch it on the website. Check it out if you like this kind of thing. If not, remove the stick from your hind-end and watch it anyway. Hee hee.

...And shoes
I'm on a shoe spree. But I'm so happy about it. The leather on these babies feels like butter and they're really comfortable. But then again, any heel under 4" feels comfortable to me. 4's and I don't get along so well. These are much more delicate and finished looking in person. I wear them whenever I'm not at school. Because I'll only wear these at school, no other shoe is worth the pain. I don't care how beautiful they are. I'm waiting for these to come in the mail and I'm buying these mammas next.

PSA

Avoid fraud ya'll. If someone calls you and tells you you've just won something, it won't cost you anything. If they ask you for money or any financial info, it's a scam. If you have questions about avoiding scams or fraud, let me know. I'll tell you all about the crazy scammers that called me last night and how I got the info I needed out of them to report them. It was fun. 'Cuz caint nobody use their southern accent to manipulate me. *cough cough* George W... *cough cough*

I was right....

I feel fine today. I always feel great when I get 10 hours of sleep. There's a guy in my ward who I started crushin' on 3 weeks ago, but today there was a brunette with him. I always back off when there's a brunette involved. Because I usually prefer brunets, so I understand the sentiment. But this guy is blond. Maybe that's why I didn't care when I saw him with that girl. Because blond men are expendable. I didn't even bother to look at her face to size up the competition, because it was a 3 hour crush. Meaning, I've only crushed on him for 1 hour-ish, 3 three times. I forget all about him during the week. But then I re-noticed this really attractive brunet man as I was leaving today. And I pointed him out to my brunette sister, but she prefers redheads. So I'm gonna try to sit by him next week.

Note to world: "Rumor Has It" It has the worst acting I've seen in a long time. Jennifer Aniston was so bad she even managed to make the talented Shirley MacLaine, Kathy Bates, Mark Ruffalo, and Mena Suvari look bad. Kevin-Dances With Wolves-Costner (thenceforward known as K-DWW-C) was boring as usual. I think that Rob Reiner must have directed them to act to Jennifer's deficiencies. She was a horrible caricature. Her scenes with most everyone sounded like they were just running lines with her. It was soap opera acting at its worst. Every expression on her face was overly affected and I ended up not even caring about the story line because I was so busy watching the train wreck that was her acting. If you like train wrecks, fast forward to any and all scenes with K-DWW-C and then the scene toward the end where she's riding the elevator down after getting rejected by Ruffalo. It's truly painful. It's like watching a bad episode of "Friends." Oh wait, they were all bad.

Pretty's for Suckers

Once someone is past the age of 21, they aren't pretty anymore. Pretty is for little girls. They're beautiful, or striking, or breathtaking, or boring, or... different, but not pretty. I am not pretty. I am something else. Something Better. I spend 7 hours a day in front of a mirror as part of my education. And I like it. Because I'm vain. And I really like myself. And you can think what you like about it, but I've earned it.

"You have such a pretty face." Translation: You're fat, but I'm trying really hard not to notice and so I'm gonna make up a compliment to make myself feel better about it. At least disguise your fake compliments better.

Seriously people. Stop acting so surprised that my legs are so gloriously white or that I'm so confident about my body. Body love is a choice. I've forced myself to face myself nude in a mirror and tell myself that I love me and that I'm beautiful, etc. More than once. I have worked hard to change the negative body image that was ingrained by everyone in my life. My mom told me for years that I was pretty, but that boys would like me better if I was skinny. Not true. Boys like you better if you like yourself. And they didn't like me when I didn't like myself and now that I do, they come around. I just don't always like them back. Big deal. I'm waiting for a man who feels the same way about himself.

Sorry ya'll, the hormones/sleepy combo is making me a little bit feisty today. I almost sat on the floor and cried in Trader Joe's today because they stopped making my shaving cream. I've been using it for a really long time and I can't go back to shaving cream in a can. It just doesn't compare. And I really want to show off my gorgeous milky legs at church tomorrow. Oh well. Tomorrow I will have gotten LOTS of sleep, so I should be fine.

Observations

Whenever I go to the grocery store and a man bags my groceries, he will put everything in one bag. Because he thinks that logically, he's doing me a favor. If it all fits in one bag, I only have one bag to carry. And he's usually really proud of himself and will even say something like, "There you go, I made it easy for you, have a nice day." But if it weighs 75 pounds, I can't lift it. But thanks tho'. How 'bout you make it convenient for you to carry and then carry it to my car, drive me home, and take it in my house and unload the 2 weeks worth of groceries that you somehow managed to tetris into that one bag, and then give me a pedicure? Now that's service.


On another note... Everytime I hear Josh Turner sing those notes in that very low register, I get butterflies in my stomach. There's just something about a man that can sing like that. It's the whole Barry White thing. It's crazy sexy. If you can sing that low, call me. Seriously. I'll marry you just for that.

It's past my bedtime!

I have to put in a plug for the Dixie Chick's new album, "Taking the Long Way." Because I love it. If you haven't heard it yet, you gotta check it out. My favorite songs are "Easy Silence" and "Lullaby," they're the most beautiful songs on the album. And all that crap about their really controversial song is a load of crap cuz it really isn't all that controversial anyway. Seriously people. Listen to it. It's not a big deal. Anywho... I love it. And I listen to it over and over. You can listen to the whole thing from this link. Yeah, you're welcome. When I have some more time, I'm gonna make a list of all the good movies I've seen in the last while. But right now, I'm supposed to be preparing a presentation on "The Wedgie," but I'm gonna go to bed instead.

The smartest people I know go to beauty school...

Overheard conversation:

Boy: So what's (some random girl's name) doing with her life since high school?
Girl: Oh my gosh! She actually had a baby, what was she thinking? And she's studying something weird. Anthropology?
Boy: What is Anthropology anyway?
Girl: I think it's like the study of the body?
Me: (Obviously eavesdropping) PA HA HA!! (super loud outburst) Are you kidding me? (mocking her ever so slightly) It's more like the study of society and behavior.
Girl: Oh. My bad.

For real ya'll. I had to announce to my classmates that I'm not gonna dumb down so they can feel included in class. I can't even tell you how many times people act seriously offended because I answer questions in class and like, know stuff.

Another great conversation:

Girl: Cold sores are not herpes! I never put my face down there.
Whole class: Yes they are, it's a different kind of herpes. And you don't get them that way.
Girl: No they're not herpes, I asked my doctor. I don't have herpes!
Smarty Pants (Me): Honey, the scientific name is herpes labialis. You know, your lips?

There are some smart people around, but everyone dumbs down to make each other feel comfortable. I'm not gonna go there. The last time I was in high school was 1998. And I didn't even dumb down back then. I overheard a boy from my 11th grade biology class trying to describe me one day and he said, "you know, the girl from Florida who knows everything."

I liked it like that. Cuz I do know everything, duh.

Except how to fix my printer so I can print out my essay on what I want to be doing with my life in 5 years that's due in the morning. I'm just gonna write, "phat crib, pimp ride, lotta cash, hot man" on a post it note and hand it in.

I rocked a Chick-hawk today. It looked kinda like this:



But mine needs work. Hey man, it was my first time. In other news, I won the week-long "Best Blow Dry Style" Competition in my class. This means that every time I did my tranny manny's hair from last Saturday to today, I rocked more than everyone else. As soon as my instructor announced the competition, I got down to business. I won a TIGI S-Factor Modern Camcorder Blowdryer. It's really cool, but I couldn't find any pictures of it on online. It looks like a tall thin diffuser and kinda like an old fashioned milk bottle. It has a strap on the side and you hold it like a camcorder (no handle). It's sweet!

Pride

I fixed it. And I'm really proud of it. This is the same haircut I botched up last week, but we cut it again and shorter and I passed with flying colors. I was going to post a big ol' vent about the drama going on at school, but I'm over it, cuz crazy people aren't worth my time. So instead I'm posting pictures of my absolutely beautiful work. And some of the absolutely beautiful pics I've taken of my nephews lately.