Monday, March 23, 2009

Mustache / Moustache / useless info

How to spell:

There are two accepted spellings, with or without the "O" : mustache/moustache. (The growth of hair between the nose and mouth.) Source

Americans usually spell it mustache and pronounce it either MUH-stash or muh-STASH; moustache is a variant for some Americans and is preferred by the British, who use both pronunciations as well. Source

Thursday, March 19, 2009


Andrea tagged me, and I have lots of not-so cute things going on, so I decided to join in on the game. Hmm, Where do I start with this thing? Since I am keeping it real.. here goes.

1. I have a mustache. I know what some of you out there are thinking... "Finally, I've been meaning to tell her!" Sorry guys, I already know. And no, my mustache does not consist of coarse dark hair but because my SKIN is permanently tan on my upper lip. Yay! Thanks birth control for leaving me with a beautiful shading on the upper lip. I apparently will NEVER get rid of you. I try very hard to disguise you, but the truth is... there is no hiding it!

Exhibit A (no makeup very scary):
What is that beautiful dark Charlie Chaplin mustache doing on such a lady? OH... its moving in to stay.

2. My mornings. Not-so-cute. Poor Miles wakes up happy and chipper and I can barely muster up enough politeness to say hello. I absolutely hate waking up in the morning, and don't mess with me if it is still dark outside when I do.

3. McDonald's. My favorite fast food restaurant, hands down. Oh, those yummy little chopped up onions on your hamburger and the crispy outer shell of their long skinny fries. Just add a vanilla cone and dip those warm fry babies in for the most delicious treat!

4. I have favorite students. I am much easier on them than I am with the obnoxious, defiant, and disrespectful students. I guess that makes sense, but I feel guilty about it sometimes.

5. One of the biggest reasons I shy away from having my own children.. sleep. I'll never be able to sleep in again.

6. I avoid my ever-so-nice neighbor. I try to run inside my house as fast as possible. I know. I am the worst. Let me tell you a few reasons why. 1) She leaves her door wide open, so when I walk up the stairs, she is sitting in plain view (watching television) and I can't avoid saying hello. 2) Once I do say hello, she quickly gets up and picks her cats up and walks them over to me and tells me to say hello to them. 3) I am usually just getting home from work and holding groceries/laptop bag/cereal cup from before work/purse/keys. I really don't know what is wrong with me. I am anti-social I guess. Speaking of her, she is my new Visiting Teaching Companion and I am off to do some V.T. tonight with her. Which leads me to number 7....

7. My old Visiting Teaching Companion bothered me. Why she insisted on staying for 2 hours each time we went, was BEYOND me. We also had some inactive women on our list who she consistently was trying to trick into letting us come over. Once while visiting other women she said, "I just want to stop by and show (inactive women#1) this picture I have of her." I thought that was easy enough. Come to find out, inactive women #1 had told my companion that she didn't want us to come over, so when we knocked on the door (which had its T.V. blaring) there was no answer. Ugh, I really could go on but lets leave it at that. She was coo coo for coco puffs.

8. My roots right now.

9. My scar I now have above my belly button. I wish it was a little more centered... just to be symmetrical.

10. I can be a couch potato.

Friday, March 13, 2009

my week

Sunday: Flu. It was horrible.

Monday: Flu remnants. (That's what I told my school anyway)

Tuesday: Slid on the ice while driving and hit (I'd prefer the term, tapped instead) the car in front of me at a stop sign. The worst part... It was a police car.

Wednesday: Had a folder I needed to give to my sister. Went home and couldn't find it. Went back to school to see if it was there. Searched everything... gave up, put my coat on and decided to look in one last place (a basket of work to be returned to students) it was there. Don't ask me why I put it at the bottom of a basket full of students work.

Thursday: Made myself some cereal in a cup on my way out the door. Set it down on the table to kiss my slumbering husband goodbye and LEFT my cereal AND cell phone sitting on the table.

Friday: Did a hand stand in class.

I don't know when I lost my mind. But it is definitely GONE.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Citizen Blues

I do not buy regularly priced designer jeans. Now, that is not to say that I never have before...

One spring day in the year of 2004 I had just purchased my first pair of truly designer jeans ($187..worth of designer jeans). I was feeling good. I wore my 'tall' shoes that day so that my new jeans wouldn't drag on the cement as I walked across the University of Utah campus. I'm not going to lie. I was feeling pretty good. New shirt, new jeans, freshly dried hair (I love freshly cleansed hair) who cares that I had missed my first class...I was lookin' good. Campus was pretty dead considering class was just about to end, so I walked along with the sun shinning on my face and the warm breeze running through my squeaky clean hair.

I knew Miles would be coming out of the building I had parked near, so I walked towards where he was going to be exiting. As I started walking down the long set of cement stairs, I noticed a strange looking person coming towards me. He looked like he might have been one of those homeless dudes that live at the library, so I became a little weary (because you know, the UofU is so scary and ghetto. Ridiculous I know). So I looked up a second time (I had to keep my eyes on my feet..member, I am wearing my 'tall' shoes), notice that he is looking at me, flip my hair away from my face and.... BAM! I was on the ground. Don't even ask my how in the world I ended up on my knees at the bottom of the stairs, but don't you worry.. I had ripped both knees wide open, skinned my poor little patellas and palms, not to mention the bruises.

Humiliation flooded over me. "That did not just happen." I said to my self. The creepy guy (who turns out to be so-not-creepy at all) turns around and says, "Wow, are you okay?". As I kneel there 'praying' on the ground I am thinking, "No, I am not okay... This is the first day I decided to wear my new $187 pair of jeans and I just RUINED them in the most humiliating way possible.", but of course I Cooley said, "Yeah, yeah..." and ran off. Oh the humiliation.

Needless to say, I don't ever buy expensive designer jeans at full price (or walk around campus in my 'tall shoes' avoiding eye contact with wanna-be creepers). I am however, a huge fan of Down East Outfitters where I can buy designer jeans at a discounted price, but I HATE searching through all of their stuff.

Chelsea reminded me about a new website that some of our friends put together. It is a website with a 'deal a day' on bargain priced designer jeans. They are the real designer jeans and priced super cheap, so bookmark the site and check it out regularly for great deals!

{And just cause I am keeping it real... I still continued to get my usage out of the torn jeans. I would wear them with the holes. My mom hated it. They weren't retired until the night I went to Classic Skating for a party in 2006 and was racing someone on those dumb blow-up obstacle courses, and the jeans ripped from the crotch to the outside of my leg, exposing my bottom. That was the end of those...}