Right vs Left

I went to lunch with two friends who are both left handed. That meant I was the odd man out, or the right-handed woman out, or the goofy handed girl out - however you define it. We discussed several topics during lunch and somehow ended on a conversation about computers. Ironically, I'm the only one who places the computer mouse on the left. I have done this for years.

Last night in class, I was bored. My mind wandered back to lunch and I wondered what life would be like if I were left handed. One thought lead to another and soon I was more interested in left-hand doodles than the Krebs Cycle. I took out a sheet of paper and wrote "I like blogging" with my right hand. I repositioned the paper and copied the phrase with my left hand. I continued this for several more phrases. I share a table with a classmate and I think I caught him glancing over a few times trying to see what I was writing. Nothing to see here buddy. Just practicing my penmanship.

If someone could please explain the Krebs Cycle to me...neither my right or left side was paying attention.

Who Completes Me

Johnny-Cherie sent me an email forward last week explaining she was 115%. Um, 115% what? After reading through the email, I realized I was looking at a mathematical breakdown of the sexes. The first column listed "guy" characteristics followed by several "girl" behaviors. Johnny-Cherie, who is a Tomboy at heart, checked several items in both categories but overall was "guyish". After adding her guy and girl traits together, the formula said she was 115% person. Wanting to know my percentage, I took the test.

GUY PART (No matter if you're a guy or a girl)
(x)You love hoodies and jeans. and flipflops!
(x) Dogs are better than cats. Dogs will actually play back. Cats are for petting purposes only. Plus they make me sneeze.
( ) It's hilarious when people get hurt.
( ) You've played with/against boys on a team.
(x)Shopping is torture.
(x) Sad movies suck. Not a fan of the cheesy chick flicks or films that make me cry.
( ) You own an XBox/gamecube.
( ) At some point in time you wanted to be a firefighter.
( ) You own a PSP.
( ) You own a DS, PS2 or Sega.
( ) You used to be obsessed with Power Rangers.
( ) You watch sports on TV.
( ) Gory movies are cool.
( ) You only go to your dad for advice.
(x) You own like a trillion baseball caps. Love hats...I don't have to do my hair.
( ) You like going to football games.
(x) You used to/do collect baseball cards. So I collected Disney cards when I was younger. We'll count this as 1/2 a point.
( ) Baggy shorts are cool to wear.
( ) It's kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people.
(x) Green, black, blue or silver are one of your favorite colors. I don't have a silver shirt but I wear enough silver jewelry to make up for that.
(x) You love to go crazy and not care what people think.
( ) Sports are fun too.

Now add the numbers up and multiply it by 5. Post as I am 37.5% guyish.

GIRL PART
(x) You wear lip gloss.
( ) You love to shop all the time. No. We've covered this.
(x) You wear eyeliner.
( ) You have many of the same shirts in different colors.
(x) You don't like shopping at hot topic. When I do venture out, this store is fun.
(x) You wear the color pink.
( ) You consider cheerleading a sport.
( ) You hate wearing the color black.
( ) You like hanging out at the mall. Once again, this is a big fat no.
( ) You like getting manicures and/or pedicures.
(x) You like wearing jewelry.
( ) Skirts are a main part of your wardrobe.
( ) Shopping is one of your favorite hobbies.
( ) You don't like the movie Star Wars. I actually dressed up like Princess Leah for Halloween one year.
( ) You are/were in cheerleading, gymnastics or dance. Cheerleading is not for the long-legged.
(x) It takes you around 1 hour to get dressed and put on make-up and accessories.
( ) You smile a lot more than you should. This makes someone girly?
(x) You have more than 10 pairs of shoes.
(x) You care about what you look like.
(x) You like wearing dresses.

Now add the numbers up and multiply it by 5. Post as I am 45% girlish.

37.5 Boy + 45.0 Girl= 82.5 person

Oh. I suddenly feel incomplete. Not completely here or there. Johnny-Cherie? Can I borrow some of your personality?

Some Personal Background

We each have our own computer station at work. Most of the guys have the standard blue background as their desktop but that's too boring for me. Mine changes periodically depending on my mood.

First there was Wonder Woman. Some of the guys wondered why I had a female super hero as my background. I got tired of explaining the story and changed my picture...

to my Family

During my GRE cram month, I had inspirational math problems

But now I enjoy various cartoons.




What's on your background?

(remember to submit a caption for the contest!)

Did I do that...again?

I got tagged by Chrissy. I'm supposed to tell you 8 random facts about myself. I'm supposed to post the rules. I supposed to pass it along to 8 others. I suppose I like to change things up a bit.

I did something stupid on Wednesday - hurt myself and ended up going to a doctor yesterday to make sure nothing was broken. Unfortunately, it's not the first time - and probably won't be the last - when I've ended up in pain due to...ME. So, I'm changing the meme to a list of stupid things I've done - to myself - which have resulted in pain. Lots of pain.

1. When I was little, my future neighbors started construction on the lot next to our home. I had just learned to ride my bike and wanted to impress the construction workers. (May I point out here that my injury was the result of me trying to impress guys, albeit construction workers. Note how stupid I get when a male is present.) Picture me, this little girl proudly riding her large, banana seat bike in figure eight's to capture the attention - and hearts - of the muscular, sweaty workers when BAM!! I hit an invisible rock and fell right on my face. Sure my hands hurt from how I'd landed but the bruising my ego took was unbearable. I ran into the house and didn't bike until the house construction was complete.

2. TheDeanInc and I were practicing our sweet biking skills one day. This consisted of jumping the curb, balancing for a second, then hopping off the curb. He was pretty good and I wanted to be like him. (Although I'm trying to impress a boy, this one doesn't count since it's my brother and that would just be gross!) After watching him successfully complete the trick, I attempted. Mine went something like this: Hop curb, grab handle bars as they fly out of hands, turn handle bars away from approaching mailbox, lean towards grass for soft landing, hop off curb suddenly, fly forward, land chin onto pavement, scream, head to emergency room, get stitches. Needless to say, TheDeanInc has sweet curb hopping skills but I have a cool scar!

3. In 7th grade I fell in love...with my Social Studies teacher. (Again ~ guys make me dumb!) He was tall, dark, and handsome. Of course, I was short, white, and illegal. This still didn't stop me from running home on the first day of class to tell Mama Mia about the new teacher. In an effort to accurately portray his height, I stood on my baby sister's booster chair. After reaching as high as I could to say, "He's this tall," my thoughts apparently were centered only on him instead of the law of gravity. I quickly was reminded as I fell and snapped my arm backwards. Too many hours later, I was home from the emergency room with a cast on my now broken arm. The next day of class, Mr. Dreamy asked what had happened. Again I turned stupid and said, "I fell off a booster chair." Um, a 7th grader still using a booster chair? I suppose that relationship was doomed before it started.

4. My freshman year of college I started hanging out with a guy from California. (Yet another guy who would see me turn stupid). He was so cool. I wanted to be so cool too. He rode a longboard to class. Suddenly I felt a huge need to longboard to class too. Never mind the fact that I'd never seen or been on a longboard before in my life. In an attempt to talk to him more, I asked if he would teach me how to longboard. In his uber coolness, as could only be indicated by his one word California response, he uttered, "Totally!" Lesson 1 was balancing on the board. Cool California Guy ran and jumped on the board and glided toward me. My attempt was a little less graceful. I walked toward the board, put one foot on, lifted my other foot and fell flat on my butt. Actually, flat on my wrist. Lesson 1, which was as far as I got, ended with me at the doctor's office getting a splint on my sprained wrist.

5. This one could count for two (unfortunately). Sophomore year of college, my apartment of 4 girls became best friends with an apartment of 4 guys. (Guys: here I go with that stupid thing again). They invited our apartment to go rope swinging. I wasn't too sure I wanted to go but went with the notion that I didn't have to jump if I didn't want to. I watched each of the guys jump and even two of my roommates. They made it look easy. You climb the tree, grab the rope, jump out away from the tree, swing like Tarzan, and land in the water before the rope returns to the shore. After much convincing, I decided to go. I grabbed the rope and jumped. Everything was in slow motion. Yet too fast to correct. I hadn't leaped out from the tree far enough to clear the bank. This would have been fine if I had grabbed the rope a mere 5 inches higher. Alas, my feet hit the ground and dragged before I landed in the water. Since the creek was full of melted snow from the mountain, my whole body tingled in the frigid water. I was numb long enough to walk back to the car without pain. Once home, I realized I couldn't walk. Another trip to the doctor informed me I had sprained both ankles. Tip for the day: Don't sprain both ankles at once. It's incredibly hard to get anywhere!

6. My junior year of college included yet another trip to the emergency room. One afternoon, a group of us were bored in the apartment. Bored = trouble. We were discussing fights we'd been in at school growing up. I mentioned I'd always been too scared to fight back any bullies who pestered me. In an attempt to teach me better defense skills, my roommate ordered me to get in a fighting stance. She was going to walk me through a proper fight. We crouched ready to pounce. We stared at each other and started laughing. Then I lunged. She lunged back. We collided. We fell. My leg popped. A trip to the hospital, a dose of medicine (that made me hit on every male nurse around), a cast, and some crutches, my broken leg adventure had begun. Needless to say, I'm still not very good at fighting.

7. One day in college I was late for class. I jumped on my bike and raced down the street. I heard a clickityclickityclickity noise in rhythm to my speed. I slowed down: click ety click ety click ety. I slowed more: cl i ck et y cl i ck et y cl i ck et y. Obviously something was catching and, with each cycle of the wheel, making a clicking noise. I looked down at the gears. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary; my shoelaces were tied and my pants were pegged so as not to catch on the gear teeth. I pedaled once. Clickety. Where was it coming from?! I looked up JUST IN TIME to see the parked car 'jump' out in front of my bike. My bike stopped as I continued forward. I landed on my face looking the opposite direction. I never found the source of that clicking noise either. (Okay, so that one didn't involve a guy and I didn't need to go to the hospital. It still hurt okay!)

8. Wednesday, September 26, 2007: I was meeting some friends at 6:30 and knew I'd probably have some spare time. Already in my car, I raced back into the house to grab a book for my wait. As I ran in, I noticed Julia Gulia at the computer with a perplexed expression. Trying to determine if she was okay, I momentarily forgot my hand was still on the door and slammed it shut. My first response was laughter, as in, "Did I seriously just do that?!" The immediate swelling indicated I actually had. I did meet up with my friends later only I wasn't carrying a book. My new accessory was an icepack for my hand. The doctor put me at ease by saying it is only a deep tissue bruise. He also suggested I elevate my hand to decrease the swelling. This means I walk around like I have a question, want to give you a High 5, or play one handed pattycake.

So there you have it. Eight stupid events in my life that have resulted in pain. I'm either really clumsy or a masochist. Neither one sounds too appealing. Oh well. High 5!

Get it Write

I’m not the type of person that gets mad and when I do, it's over in a day or so. Today is one of those days. I'm upset regarding my passport.

I documented before that due to new passport laws, I missed an oversea adventure in Spain. Frustrating, but I got over it. My passport came back the middle of July but the information was so horribly scratched, I couldn't make out my birth date, passport number, or expiration. In addition, my name was misspelled. I had to send it back - on my dime - and wait a few more weeks.

Well, my passport returned again on August 19th. The scratches are fixed but my name is spelled wrong...again. I must have the most commonly misspelled name ever. I am tiffed that I have to pay - for the second time - to ship my passport back.

Do all forms take this long? If so, I think I’ll start submitting paperwork for my death certificate now because if this does kill me, heaven knows I want my name spelled right!

Exhausting Rest

I didn't post on Monday. Sorry. I was too tired. I don't know what the problem is actually. Despite the typical early to bed, early to rise, hope it makes me really wealthy and wise schedule I stick to, I still seem to be caught in a desperate attempt to catch up on sleep. Monday night I went to bed at 9:50 instead of my normal 11:15 and woke up at 6:45 ~ an entire hour later than usual. In addition to my extreme fatigue, I had a strange bruise on my left thigh and my left shoulder was much tighter than normal although the covers on my bed indicated restful sleep.

What is the deal?

I can only think of one answer: I must be a crime fighter while I’m asleep. Years ago I was known to sleep talk and sleep walk so I assume I have taken the next step and now sleep fight. I think it’s obvious. Look at all the clues I’ve left myself:

• Disheveled Hair: No matter how many times I brush before retiring to bed, I wake with tousled locks. No wonder! It’s hard to keep one’s hair manageable when one is a Sleep-Fighter!



• Sweaty Hands: All the better to punch you with Mr. McCrime!



• Bruises on Thigh: ...so he got a lucky kick in, okay...



• Sore Shoulder: I throw a mean lefty.

Which brings up a whole ‘nother problem. I desperately need some cuter pajamas. If I’m out sleep-fighting crime, I can’t wear mismatched or over sized tees and shorts anymore. A uniform is in order. I originally thought black since it’s slimming but considering it’s already dark out, that might be dangerous. The last thing the city needs is a crime-sleep-fighter hurt on the job. White is easier to see at night but those dirt and blood stains would be awful to wash out. Anyone know where I can find an outfit made entirely of bike reflectors?

Oh. Another question: Is it bad for me to sleep on the job? I mean, technically that IS when I’m at my best.

You know how to reach me. Shine the sign.

Wonder Woman by Day...Slumber Woman by Night!

My 1000 th post!

Divided by 10 that is.

In honor of this accomplishment - at least in my mind - and since I was tagged by Clairissa, I am naming 100 things you may or may not know or want to know about me. In no particular order, except numerically, here I am:

1. I have a love/hate relationship with chocolate.
2. I was in a wreck and the airbag exploded. I think cars are safer without them. I had acid burns on my face for a week.
3. My favorite comedian would be a combination of Ellen DeGeneres and Jerry Seinfeld. But since that would be one ugly baby, I'll stick to watching them separately.
4. I have a 34 inch inseam. Sure guys like long legs but I'm the one who has to shave them!
5. I bought a cd last week and have listened to it completely over 10 times.
6. I take my shoes off at work. I love being barefoot.
7. I love rice milk.
8. I failed statistics in college. What are the chances of that happening?
9. My favorite number is 9.
10. I have a yellow belt in karate.
11. I love talking on the phone...literally for hours at a time.
12. I am one of the most non-committal people you will ever meet. Aside from a tv show and a song, I don't have favorites and I'm quite indecisive. Dating might also fall into this category.
13. Most mornings I get up at 5:45 so I can read before I go to work.
14. I tried to grow a garden this summer. My plant harvested a total of two peas.
15. I am technologically retarded. One of these days I'll figure out how to use an iPod.
16. I can't remember when I last used salt. I don't like it.
17. I would rather live near mountains than water.
18. Seinfeld is my absolute favorite show. I have seen every episode at least once.
19. Windows used to terrify me when I was younger. I was so scared a kidnapper would reach through and grab me that I would not go near windows after dark. This greatly limited the rooms at home I could enter after dusk.
20. I listen to NPR all the time.
21. I try to bike at least once a week.
22. I was vegetarian for two weeks.
23. I have a thing for bald guys. Forget Superman...give me Lex Luther!
24. I enjoy cooking.
25. I charged friends a quarter to come to my 25th birthday bash.
26. I have never been pulled over.
27. I speed every day.
28. I'm lucky I guess.
29. I'll be 29 on my next birthday.
30. I love magic tricks.
31. People call me cheap but I prefer to think I'm saving for a rainy day. And it's gonna be real rainy.
32. I still dress up at Halloween.
33. I can walk on stilts. It comes in handy when there's a really, really tall shelf.
34. I don't know all the words to my favorite song. I can hum with the best though.
35. I appeared on tv once.
36. I have also been on the radio.
37. I love window shopping.
38. I go swimming at least once a week.
39. I wish I understood the stock market.
40. I like my eyes.
41. I finally figured out what I want to do "when I grow up".
42. I tried out to be a model once but didn't make it. Guess I was too beautiful for what they needed.
43. I once made up an answer to the online "security question" my bank asked. Made for suspicious stares when I applied in person for another banking program and couldn't answer correctly. I advise against joking with bankers.
44. I had my credit card identity stolen once. When the robber found out how crazy I am, they gave "me" back.
45. My target weight is 145.
46. I love sudoku puzzles and minesweeper.
47. I have never enjoyed crossword puzzles.
48. I sucked on my fingers when I was little and had to have braces later to correct that.
49. I want to have Lasik surgery so I can camp out beneath the stars and actually see them.
50. I sing out loud in my car. I like to give other commuters something to laugh at.
51. I can roll my tongue. You would think this might come in handy but as of yet, it's not given me the advantage in any situation.
52. I currently weigh 152. ...but that's because I have big bones. And a big sugar tooth.
53. I got my ears pierced when I was 23.
54. I love Fall...the season, not the verb.
55. I can still sing the theme songs to Rescue Rangers, Tailspin, and Duck Tales.
56. I love massages. Even better when they are free.
57. I do not like the spice ginger. It's supposed to be very healthy. If uncontrollable gagging is healthy, then it's working.
58. I want to visit all 50 states before I die. Anyone up for a trip to Hawaii?!
59. I love formal events where I can wear heels and dangly earrings.
60. My toenails are always painted.
61. I didn't run the whole distance in my triathlon-only when people were taking pictures. I cartwheeled the rest.
62. Sometimes I'm not 100% truthful.
63. I like fresh air rather than air conditioning.
64. I check my email about 15 times a day.
65. I am horribly slow at emailing people back.
66. If I were stranded on an island and could only bring one thing, I would take a boat with GPS.
67. It's a turn off when a guy swears.
68. I enjoy children.
69. I won a game of online solitaire in 69 seconds once.
70. If the world were made up of Charlotta-love's, we would sit around all day just talking.
71. I have broken 2 bones. My right leg and right arm...guess I lean too much. I should have had a V8.
72. I slouch when I sit. I'm actually just relaxing my back muscles for hours at a time.
73. My favorite date is March 4th. It's a command...March Forth.
74. I'm still laughing about #73.
75. I love roller coasters...especially if they have loops and flips.
76. I do not like oysters. I know they are a delicacy but someone else can enjoy the slimy, gray, raw, gross, shellfish as it glides down their throat.
77. At some point, I have collected coins, stamps, stickers, flattened pennies, volks wagon miniatures, koala bears, and pencils.
78. I pay cash for almost all my purchases.
79. I would love to live in England. or Australia. or New Zealand. or Africa. or China. See, this whole none committal thing really gets me sometimes.
80. I got lost driving in Oklahoma once for three hours. My family has never let me forget it.
81. I laugh at least once a day. I find life humorous.
82. I love dancing. I didn't say I was good but it is fun.
83. Sports? Oh, there's a game tonight?
84. I get cold really easy. I wore a jacket to work yesterday...and I live in Georgia!
85. I am ticklish...only if I like the guy.
86. My sister's say I have a flat butt. I don't know. I can't really see back there.
87. Is the glass half empty or half full? I don't know - am I drinking or pouring?
88. I cheated once in 4th grade. I can still tell you the question on the test.
89. I chew gum religiously. I guess that makes my gum holier than yours.
90. I want to try acupuncture. Would that be considered holy also?
91. I love puns.
92. I prefer blue pens to black. That way I'm not racist.
93. When I get mad, I don't yell - I stop talking completely.
94. I am my parent's favorite child. They just won't admit it.
95. I prefer silver to gold. Unless we are talking coins in which case you can just give me all you want.
96. I read my horoscope regularly. I like to see how I can prove the stars wrong.
97. I don't like Hershey's chocolate.
98. I need to read more.
99. I'm almost done with this list.
100. The furthest I have ever driven a golf ball is 100 feet. Let's just say I have a huge handicap.

BIG

I was on the couch with my dad the first time I watched the movie BIG. I loved it immediately. I really connected with the plot: the concept of a child in an adult body, an electronic piano to jump on, an apartment full of toys, and most of all - a wish to come true. This wasn't an ordinary whisper as a coin fell into water or a fleeting thought as the last candle flame turned to smoke but an earnest desire voiced to a dreadful and creepy mannequin at a fair.

I recently was souvenir shopping in a neighboring state. The trinkets and odd novelties all had a thin but noticeable layer of filth. I wondered if the store would survive much longer since our small group seemed to be the first in months to disrupt the settling dust. The isles were narrow walkways that seemed to force the shopper in one direction. Turning around risked the possibility of breaking too many items.

It was at the end of one such row that I saw him. That's right. HIM. He looked just like the wish granter from BIG. He called to me. I actually had to borrow two quarters. I wanted to look to make sure he was unplugged but the cable ran too far for me to tell. The grit that hung in the air now had a sparkle and seemed to dance like fairy dust. I plunked in the change and watched his eyes start to glow. His mechanical arms waved as though directing an unseen orchestra. The crystal ball blinked various colors. He became still again and the card that held the writings of my future fell into a slot.

I see you exploring a castle soon, perhaps in England or Germany. You may meet a doctor or dentist, but not for medical reasons. Events in your life come in 3's. A new neighbor offers you friendship. Unexpected free time is in your future. You find love in a Mexican restaurant. Lucky numbers: 1, 4, 11, 21, 33, 49.

I have decided once my passport returns but with my name correctly spelled, I need to travel. England sounds fun for no particular reason. Also, does anyone know a doctor that's, say, oh, 33 years old that enjoys Mexican food?

Word

I received yet another FW:Email the other day. I had to reply with one word that described my friend to the fullest. This got me to thinking...which is always dangerous...but what do my friends think of me? One word. That's all they get. I bravely forwarded the email and here are the replies thus far:

Frugal
Quality
Prioritized
Soul mate
Charismatic
Ghetto
Fun
Conscientious
Spontaneous
Beetle-tastic
Intriguing

I came up with at least one example for each quality. Some I have already blogged about and some will appear soon. I'm just glad the responses didn't include descriptions like Blase, Spinster, Gold-Digger, or Noseypants.

How would you like to be described in one word? Better yet, what is the one word YOU hope wouldn't be used?

Gnarly Gnails

In case you are just tuning in - and if so, welcome to the site - I lost a bet. It was just three games of dominoes. What harm is there in that? So I anteed up and risked a little self dignity. If I won, my buddy had to bleach his beard. If I lost, I had to live my Sunday out with ridiculously long nails.


I was very shy about the whole ordeal while at church. Friends would come to shake and as soon as my hand extended, a quizzical expression replaced their smiles while they questioned my new "accessories". The reactions amused me:

"Oh! Um, when did you get those?"
This morning. I lost a bet.
*Sighing* "Oh that's good. You don't seem like one of those girls."

"Um wow. Those are new."
Yeah, I lost a bet.
*Laughing* "Okay, that's funny."

At home it was a different story though. I made some enchiladas for dinner. Let me rephrase that. I tried to make enchiladas for dinner. I had to have help opening the cheese. I couldn't roll the tortillas without splitting open the shell. I had a hard time shredding the chicken. I had to ask for help getting the dish in and out of the oven. (Did you know it's hard to put on an oven mitt when your fingers extend an extra inch?) And don't even talk to me about pushing the buttons on the stove. I had to use my knuckles.

Julia Gulia was sitting on the couch examining an easter decoration with one of our mutual friends. The bunny has long ears, a bushy tail, and long legs. ...but no arms. Our friend turned to JG and said, "What do Charlotte and this bunny have in common?" I don't know. What? "They are both helpless!"



Hey! You better watch out or I'll come poke your eye out!

I'm sure I'm not the only one to lose a bet. Any crazy wagers you care to admit? Or know of a bet someone else lost?

My Celebrity Look-alikes

A few months ago several of my blogger friends found their Celebrity DNA. The steps are simple:

1. Upload a picture of yourself to MyHeritage.com
2. Hit compare.
3. Wait while the computer compares your face with celebrities around the world.
4. Enjoy the results.

Here at Charlottalove, the steps are never quite that simple. I look different at various times during the day. The mornings are, shall I say, blurry. I purposely don't put on any type of corrective lenses until after showering. Things are just prettier this way. In fact, it turns out I'm actually pretty manly in the morning.

http://www.myheritage.com

Did you like the scarf? It was cold that morning okay!



Now, if I actually spend an hour drying my hair, putting on makeup, straightening my hair, brushing my teeth, coordinating a cute top with pants, putting in earrings, the results are female at least.

http://www.myheritage.com

Either Dakota Fanning looks quite mature for her age or I need to wear more makeup. Dakota Fanning?...seriously?

So, if you ever want to get together for dinner or something, please specify: Newman or Elizabeth. Also, don't ever complain if I'm late.

I guess I'm past due for a mid-life crisis

This weekend I successfully took another step towards complete adulthood. I got my own Blockbuster Card.

I realize most people take this significant step much earlier than I did. In fact, I'd like to thank those people who enabled me for so long. I've never had the need to get a blockbuster card. Anytime I've wanted to watch a movie I've been with other people who already had the card marking this rite of passage. The need for me to get my own laminated-pass-to-cinematography-wonders never arose. So Saturday when I found myself in the movie mode, yet alone, I decided it was time to take the plunge.

I found my movie, waited in line, and told the clerk I needed a card. He gave me the paperwork to fill out and started plugging in my information. After he completed typing in my address, phone, and credit card number, he came back and asked, "Yewer burn enseverty nigh?"

"I'm sorry, what?"
"Yewer burn in servity nine?"
"One more time, I'm sorry."
"You were born in '79?!"
"Uh, yeah."
"No way! Dude, she was born in '79!"
"Get out! You don't look that old at all! I never would have guessed you were that old."
"ha, ha, yep. I'm ... that old."

Hmmm...the fact that I apparently have bad hearing and had to ask you to repeat yourself three times didn't give my old age away huh. My graying hair didn't tip you off? I didn't think to ask if it was a good thing that I don't look my age. The last thing I heard as I left was, "I can't believe she was born in '79! Whoa!"

Perhaps my next rental will be a black and white "talkie" from my childhood.

How $1.49 can ruin your day

So I think I am allergic to my body wash. I just got a new scent last week and ever since my entire body itches like I have poison ivy. At first I just thought my skin was dry so I put lotion on. Still itchy. I shaved my legs. Still itchy. I washed all my clothes and sheets. Still itchy. The thing is, I’ve been using Suave as my body wash for years and this is the first time I've suffered the side effect of itchiness. So I don’t know if it’s just “coconut crème” or if Suave started using a new chemical I can't use. The problem gets worse: I’ve itched so much, I’m starting to get tender in certain spots on my arms and legs so now it feels like I’m itching a bruise.

Which is worse: itching or aching?

Nice to meet you…don’t worry about my name.

Twice this morning I have been asked to spell my name over the phone. Our copier broke so I called to schedule a repair.

What is your name?
Charlotte.
Is that with a C or a S?
With a C. Like Charlotte, North Carolina.
Can you spell that for me?
Uh sure. C – H – A – R – L – O – T – T – E.
(Laughing) Boy I’m glad you spelled that out. I royally messed that one up.

How hard is it my name to spell? I admit, when I was in 1st grade I wanted a phonetically correct name so I turned in all my papers with “Sharlet” written at the top. The teacher took me aside and said she wouldn’t accept any work unless my given name was on the top. After that, I have always gone by Charlotte. I am amazed at some of the attempted spellings though. Charolotte, Charolet, Charlet, Charolette.

Now, my family nickname is Charika.

I’ll understand if you misspell that!

Super Bored

Today is one of those days where I am not having a bad day but I’m just having “a day”. A numb day. I can’t really explain how I’m feeling so I’ll explain what I don’t feel. At lunch I went and got my food but realized I wasn’t hungry. I ate a little anyway but didn’t really want any. I’ve had some water at my desk all day. I haven’t been thirsty for it though. I’m drinking just to stay hydrated but typically I drink tons more. On my lunch break I also went grocery shopping. I just stared at all the produce. Nothing was jumping out at me. I went to the cookie isle. Nothing. Meat – same thing. I ended up getting some staple items that I hope I will start to crave soon. When I got back to work, we had a birthday party for a coworker. I wasn’t excited but I wasn’t bored. Just there. With some cake. Cake that I ate but didn’t really even want.
My friend Rexbasior has a theory that when one person has a bad day, there is someone out there having a great day. So…someone is having the most stimulating day ever!

What's in a name?

My friend Rachel sent me a postcard last week. It totally made my day. She is a flight attendant and had sent me a card from a recent trip to California. I was on the phone with her last night and mentioned I loved getting mail from her. Then she said she never sent me a postcard. Hmmm… Turns out I have more than one friend Rachel. From now on, nicknames will be required!
So Rachel-the-flight-attendant, hope you are feeling better. And Rachel-the-used-to-be-my-boss-out-in-Utah-but-now-lives-in-California, you are awesome!

I got it...you know it.

The first week of January, I had an interview in the heart of Atlanta at an agriculture company. I took a half day at my current job and headed out around 1:30 for my 3:30 appointment. About 40 minutes into the drive, my tires started making a thumping noise. I pulled over and noticed the air was low so I drove to the next gas station about 5 minutes away. As I walked to the store to get change for the tire pump, a guy leaned out of his car and shouted “hey there sexy momma.” Seriously…tell me something I don’t know.

Anyway, I pumped up my tires, filled up the car with gas, and got back onto the road, er, parking lot. I don’t know who makes the decisions about road construction but they have yet to consult me because I would let them know it is NOT a good choice to merge three lanes into one just a mile before the onramp – which by the way, pours onto the freeway in the left – or fast – lane. I did all I could do: sat in my car with my wipers and defroster on high. (I neglected to mention this trip was taken while Atlanta was under a tornado watch).

I finally was able to merge onto the freeway and get to my interview. Even leaving with an extra half hour, I got there 5 minutes late. I removed my rain jacket, shook hands, sat down and was caught off guard by the first comment:
“I see you have a degree in Science from the Y.”
…No, I have a bachelor of science in Recreation Management.
“Oh. Okaaaaay. Well, that’s alright, that’s alright.”

The interview, not one of my better ones, finally finished and I left. I wanted to quickly stop in at Ikea before attending to other errands and then meet a friend for dinner. My plans did not go as I anticipated but, always looking for a learning opportunity, this is what I gleaned from my day in Atlanta.

- Ikea is huge!
- You can find a parking spot, walk a mile to get to Ikea, walk a mile to the one item you need, walk the mile back to the checkout, wait in line for the two clerks to ring everyone up, walk a mile back to your car FASTER than you can drive 20 miles on the freeway.
- In the planning meeting, city officials must have run out of names because every street is called Peachtree-something.
- Atlanta has tornadoes?!
- The toll on GA 400 is $ .50.
- Downtown Atlanta is not set up like downtown Salt Lake City.
- Spaghetti junction really is like pasta. Although it looks smooth, there are always sticky spots.

After dinner, I started thinking about all the events of the day and laughed when I remembered the whistler at the gas station. One thing was clear: as for the job, I don’t know if I got it, but I do know that I still got it!

I'm Cheap

With a capital, bolded, underlined C...and this cheap is on the border-line of ghetto.

Yesterday while sorting the mail at work I noticed one of the envelopes had gone through the stamp reader upside down. This meant the red ink that normally indicates where the letter sent from was across the bottom of the envelope instead of the stamp. Since the stamp didn’t have the red markings, I cut it out to use again. That’s what makes me ghetto-cheap. But here is my moral dilemma.

Should I reuse the stamp? I mean, it technically was used but then again, no one can tell. If I just throw it away, that’s a good $ .63 just wasted. (Extra postage stamp…I could write a friend in Canada!) But really, it is a used stamp. So what do all of you say?

Before you answer though, here is your moral dilemma. I watched my mom do this when I was little. So if you call ME cheap and dishonest, really you are name calling Mama Mia. (and she reads these blogs.) So NOW what do you think?

My "distinguished" strand

I found a gray hair today while I was blow drying my hair. I pulled it out obviously but why do I have a gray hair?! What am I stressed about?
* I don’t have a husband or children,
* I’ve never been to war and,
* I am not related to Britney Spears.

According to my friend "google", if I am stressed, I should be experiencing:
Headaches (well, my head does feel like it weighs 10 lbs)
Sleep disturbances (especially when my alarm clock goes off in the morning)
Irregular heartbeat (Is this when a cute boy walks by or all the time?)
Weight gain or loss (Before or after this past holiday season?)
Hair loss (especially if I continuing pulling out each gray hair)
and sweatiness (can someone hand me a towel…and a new shirt?).

…whoa, just reading that list is stressful. Perhaps I should check for more gray hair!

New Year Resolution #1

I resolve to bring in the 2008 New Year with a kiss. No more of this standing solo with a sparkler. And no more of those "fireworks" you buy on the side of the road. I want to make my own.