I've been rereading my blog and have decided to let you all know what's changed, starting at my most recent post and going backwards:

I'm no longer strangely drawn to Twilight (except when I've got a really bad cold...)

We found the remote.

Nigel's back to sleeping on my bed (when he's not on my roommate's), I make fun of clients at work again (especially the really rude ones who treat you like an idiot), my lip has healed, and I don't play TextTwist anymore, therefore no more ert/inert problem.

I no longer view my Need to Know as a problem. Maybe I'll get a job as a PI...

My Dad...Nothing changed there.

Rolf no longer freaks me out. Sometimes, when I'm chatting with him about my life, I have a hard time remembering that he's a super-big star.

The fireflies have went! (ibid, for all my English majorly friends)

I have not been bruised, bled, or been pulled over for some time now.

While I still miss my family, new pictures make me happy now, like the ones of Kairi in a bunny suit and Talya with a BB stuck up her nose.

I went back to Ninety Six. This time, everybody at church greeted me by name and inquired after my life. This day also almost made its own post entitled "In which I get kissed by a midget".

I don't love my job anymore. It's a job now.

Perhaps thanks to a new counter which doesn't accentuate them, I haven't caught people staring at/taking pictures of my breasts for at least 2 months.

I don't think Mr. Point-Eleven-Karats is stupid. Just uninformed.

I no longer have to go to the laundromat. I do still want a maid.

I haven't been jogging (or been offered candy by a stranger) for a while.

I, a) again, no longer love my job and b) my Scottish friend stopped writing to me!

I don't really care about Chuck again.

I finally made it to Stake Conference! My first since moving here!

I am no longer Swiney. Swine-flu, that is, and therefore have not watched as many movies lately. Am still crazy about Merlin though....

Stopped reading cautionary tales since they make no impact in my life.

I have a tv now.

And finally, I know why they put the strips of sticky paper on the trees (to keep bugs from eating leaves, in case you were wondering).

Well, that's it. A backwards tale from my sideways life.

Hi. I'm Lisa.

I'm 27 years old--I'm not married, and I'm not really dating. My favorite books are fairy tales, and I'm desperately into Sci-Fi/Fantasy. I'm a Mormon, I love Ren Faires, violent movies make me cry, and sometimes I hide in small spaces when I can't handle being around people anymore. I believe in drawing energy from the earth, that talking about creepy things can invite them, and that electrical appliances perceptibly hum even when turned off. I truly don't find Dumb & Dumber funny, I hum loudly and talk to myself in public, hate the taste of bacon and frankly, I've never had a kiss that's made me figure out the big fuss is about.

Freak Flag, proudly wave.

Things That Make Me Happy

-People who have names like Breedlove. Wonder what their great-great-great-great grandparents did for a living? ;)

-People who pick up a pen, see that it's capped, look confused and then exchange it for an open one (this happens at my office all the time).

-Movies that start over again when they're done (we lost the remote at work).

-Lunch.

-Correctly identifying the undertones at Bath & Body.

-Salespeople who like their jobs.

-Giggling fits.

-Answering phones with an accent.


So, those are mine. What are yours?

Why doesn't inert have a negative, and other random updates.

So....Updates:

I can finally sleep better, since Nigel now has his own bed. After one trip to Michael's and an extra large laundry basket, he has a nice green pillow bed trimmed with long emerald ribbons and jade beads. I should mention that I was reading the Wizard of Oz when I made this. The benefits of the bed are threefold: 1) I no longer have to tape roll my bed every night, 2) I am apparently allergic to cats and it was making me stuffy and tired, and 3) He snores. Really, really loudly, and it's not quite so bad when he's not on my pillow.

I decided that I needed to stop making fun of clients in the back, because I'm getting a worse and worse attitude and it's not nice. I picked one heck of a day to do it. I wish I could tell you about the amazing specimins of people who came in today, but, as I tried to explain to an ex-boyfriend once, typing counts as talking. Maybe I'll include them in my memoirs, because memoirs are the place where "if you can't say something nice..." doesn't apply. Or maybe I'll become a standup comic.

As for this latest update, Mom, don't laugh! Remember in The Devil Wears Prada how the super hot coffee is "glacial"? And Annie askes the barristas to make it "Hot. Like center-of-the-sun hot"? That's how I normally like my beverages. Iron Mouth is an old nickname because I'm one of those very strange people who, while food may burn my fingers or my esaphagous, it won't do a thing my mouth. As I was eating lunch today (I blame the nasty, microwavable packaged crap that I was eating) I burned my lip. In fact, the very first bite felt like I had just tried to kiss a wood burning stove. I spit it out but the damage was done. We have no ice water in the office, so I sat there running cold tap water over it. Then I pulled a water out of the fridge in the lobby tried that. It did not help. In the meanwhile, I was developing 2 small blisters and a white spot. After trying to help a customer and wanting to scream in pain I realized that I was going to need some meds. Oddly enough for a refinery, we have no burn oinment here. But even if we had, as my pharmacy-school colleague pointed out to me, that stuff has (big long medical word) that kill body cells if ingested. So, despite the fact that I'm not really supposed to leave unless another manager is here, I drove across the street to the Rite Aid. When I spoke to the pharmasist he told me that "nothing would make it stop burning but ice", but that Aquafor would help it heal up real nicely, and yes, Orajel would work for the pain. I have two tubes of Aquafor at home but none at the office, so I did have to buy more, and after living with a Burn Unit nurse, I never put ice straight on burns. Thankfully, the Orajel is starting to take effect, but the odd puffy feeling is still there. My coworker's take was "I thought girls wanted those huge puffy lips", but as I pointed out, we prefer for them to be the same on both sides.

Last night I was sitting on the couch watching tv when Nigel climbed on my stomach and curled up all snuggly and squishy. At times like this, I thought, I want to have a baby. Then he kicked he me in the uterus twice, scratched me, fell off my lap, ate his dinner and amused himself with a nice nap. It was at times like those, I realized, that I'm glad I just have a cat.

On Rinkworks this last week, I was playing in the Fun With Words section and noticed that, among a few dozen others, "inert" has no positive form. Everytime I play TextTwist I try it, despite knowing that it never comes up. Private Benjamin (about to be remade, tagging Kate Hudson in lead) says it! "Most of them are inert. However, some are ert." That of course got me started on others. Like, why does regardless and irregardless mean the same thing? And what's the word for words that should rhyme by spelling but don't in pronounciation, like blood and food? I think that's the world's biggest cop out.

Avoir mes petits! A bientot!

Stay tuned for next week's: Why the Scarlet Pimpernel Is the Best Series Ever, and All That Entails.

Problems

Just so as we're all aware, I have problems.

Problem #1: My intense, never abating fear of insects.
     It's actually gotten worse over the years. Growing up my brother said that he was going to cure me of my fear of spiders by not taking care of them for me, but I quickly learned that if you keep screaming for long enough, people will do just about anything to get you to shut up. Now it's all bugs. Walking up the stairs to go to bed a few night ago, I turned to my side and noticed a really large cockroach/some-type-of-big-Southern-bug-I-don't-wanna-know-more. Now, as my friend and soon be roommate Liz pointed out, if it's big it means that it lives outside, and just wandered in for a moment, but it was still a 20 minute fiasco to kill it. I decided that I'd take it outside and clamped a bowl (disposable) over it, and then realized that I wouldn't be able to get the magazine under the bowl without it dropping to the floor. And if I took off the bowl, even for a second, it would run like the wind. There's nothing to make you feel helpless like standing in your own house, holding a bowl on the wall for dear life and realizing you can't move, but staying won't help you. Eventually I slid the magazine under from the top and bing bang boom. It took me 45 minutes dancing in the spare room to calm me down.

Problem #2: My need to know.
     Know what? Know everything. When my professors wrote me letters of reccomendation for grad school, I really wanted to know what they said. Just to know. Finally I ended up agreeing with my therapist that hacking into their respective computer systems would not be a productive use of my time. But if the school kept my file...

Problem #3: I hate dating.
     As my friend Mal's blog put it, you will try to shape your life to look at least a little bit like your favorite book. So yes, while I could enjoy going to balls or galas or operas and meeting some fabulous member of the peerage, I really have no interest in having an awkward conversation over noodles. For some reason, I never really hit it off with guys that I go on formal dates with. While on a date, most of the time I'm just plotting how I can get home as early as possible so I'll have maximum reading time before I go to bed. Take, for instance, the date I'm going on tonight (y'know come to think of it, this is actually problems #2 and 3). He said that we were going about 20 minutes outside of town to hear a band and watch fireworks. The dinner part of the evening is set for 6:30. So, in an effort to decide whether or not I should beg off the second part of the evening, I googled around and found out exactly where we're going and the schedule for it. It actually sounds like fun...but less fun on a date. I'd love to get some friends together to go, but don't want to totally dis him either. The worst is when I'm having a really bad time on a date, but I don't want to make him totally miserable so I start directing myself. "Smile, he thinks you're not having fun. Okay, not that big you're scaring him. Uncross the arms. But keep the feet pointed away" and so on.

Problem #4: I'm on a new diet every 5 weeks.
     Enough said.

Problem #5: I tend not to say anything about what's bothering me until it's really bad.
    Ever had those tiny little spats, and you figure they're just not worth arguing over? Or have a big "discussion" and you don't want to get down and dirty in the fight so you don't really say anything? And then after a while of this, you finally say what you think and people think that you're just crazy because all of the sudden you're freaking out at them, when they think they've been a gem the whole time? Yeah, that happens to me a lot.

While these are by no means comprehensive, they're just what I've been thinking about lately.

Pops

To a Dad who will still read me books, with all the voices, no matter how old I get:

Happy Daddy's Day.