Flowers & Chicken Chunks & No Pictures Whatsoever.

I bought some peonies this weekend and put them in my room because my mom gave me a vase for Christmas and told me they were for peonies. I thought that was sweet because she knows I think they are gorgeous and smell so good. I definitely think they are the prettiest and nicest smelling flowers. But I have had a problem staring at them, it's like I can't stop. I think Wayne thinks I'm crazy because I have made her come up to my room three times to look at them.

I wanted to put a picture on this post but all my searches for peonies have been fruitless. Not to mention the fact that I have said the word "peony" so many times that it is starting to sound funny and I don't even know how I pronounce it anymore. Anyway, I didn't realize there were so many different looking peonies, and all the pictures I have found that look like the ones I have cannot be saved or even linked to. So if, for some strange reason, you really want to see what they look like, click here and then see the photo taken by Marechal MacMahon.

Maybe I really will have to consider a camera phone, as I have been advised, to be a proper blogger. I mean, last week I wasted some good blodder because I needed a picture of a nasty product I saw in the drug store by the beef jerky...dried buffalo chicken chunks. I looked all over the Tyson's website but couldn't find them. And now this whole peony photo debacle.

And frankly, I would have liked to have taken a picture of my lunch today. I went across the street to a cafe that I will never go to again (which is exactly what I said the last time I went). The joint is creepy and there is a major language barrier problem going on with me and the cashier.

Him: That will be $7.07. (I think this is what he said, despite the fact that it could not possibly be the right price according to what it said on the menu.)

Me: 7.07?

Him: Something I didn't understand

Me: (handed over $20.07)

Him: Something I didn't understand (gave me back $10)

Me: (Too confused and annoyed with myself that I had actually come back there to argue, took money and gross lunch and left.)

XYZ

I guess it was about time for me to give a talk since I have made it through almost 5 years in the ward without doing it yet. And if I HAD to, I was glad that it was on a holiday weekend when over half my ward is off gallivanting at the beach together. Yet the pressure from having a surprise visit from a General Authority on the stand possibly vetoed the fact that the congregation was only half full, especially considering that it was just after I sat down from standing in front of that General Authority giving my talk that I realized the zipper on the back of my skirt was half-way unzipped.

I would also like to mention that during a ward Q&A session with the GA after Sacrament meeting, a girl raised her hand with a question. And she humbly prefaced her question with: "I think this is a really good question for a lot of different reasons." Then I came home and read Christian F.'s post about how his dad had called him unhip, and when I clicked over to read his dad's linked post, the very-good-question-asker had commented there. What a coincidence.

This weekend, I need to trim my hair just a tiny bit because the ends are getting a little untidy and starting to split. But now that I cut my own hair, I get really nervous and usually postpone cutting it for a long time before building up my courage and buckling down and doing it. At our April Enrichment meeting, a girl with really frizzy, brittle hair suggested sleeping in conditioner twice a week. I thought I would try this last night in lieu of actually cutting off the split ends in a timely manner. But I wasn't about to sleep with conditioner in my hair and let that hair touch my pillow, so instead I slept in a clear plastic saran-wrap-like head covering that made a crinkling noise all night. And thus my hair was really flat today, but with my zipper down, who was really looking anyway?

Obsessions: Past & Present

In no particular order, here are some of my life's obsessions:

Weezer. In a previous post, I showed my Weezer fan club card. I joined in high school and would get monthly updates in the mail from the fan club presidents. They even sent us an annual listing of all the other Weezer fan club members so we could meet up with other locals. And when I was a Freshman at BYU, I got a call from a fellow club member in a nearby dorm. I force myself to listen to the cds over and over until I love every song, especially the ones that take awhile to grow on me.

NASCAR. Say what you want, I think it is C-O-O-L.

Top Gun: When I was a Freshman at BYU, I watched this movie about once a week. I felt the need, the need for speed. During the opening credits when the screen is on that talks about the school and then ends with "they call it...Top Gun"----yeah, I had that memorized.

BYU Basketball player to remain nameless. In my scrapbook from my Freshman year, I have pictures I cut out of him from The Daily Universe Sports section. But we DID go to the Heritage Halls Invitational together! After he returned from his mission and basketball practice had started, I bought a new outfit and waited on some stairs in the RB I knew he would have to pass on his way back from practice to the Fieldhouse. When he did pass, I act surprised to see him. After we talked, and he asked if he could come over that night then headed over to the Fieldhouse, there was some major hug-jumping between Carly and me in the Intramural office.

John Wayne. I don't think I need to explain this to any of you after last week's post.

Romeo & Juliet. The movie. With Leonardo. I have a page in my scrapbook dedicated to it, too. I saw it 3x in the theater. I have the soundtracks (Vol. 1 & Vol. 2) This obsession post is making me realize I was a freaky, nutso Freshman.

One of the local bands in Provo from my Freshman year (again), and another obsession that will remain nameless. My partners in crime (and "crime" is more literal than you know) and I went to every concert they had. I had a t-shirt and a CD. If there were words on the CD we couldn't understand, we would record that song onto a tape and listen to it in slow motion. I won't even write anymore, because the rest is too shameful.

Food. Yes, just food in general. I LOVE it. Dang. I need to get some right now.

Baby Names. Well, I guess mostly just names in general. I like to know name meanings, middle names, write lists of names I like, etc. I have been doing it forever. Once Lizer blogged about it, and then we had to email and share all our favorites.

The Number 9. It's so cool. I was a math geek in high school. Thank goodness for DVD players because I can get distracted watching the VCR counter waiting for it to hit multiples of 9. If any number is short enough (less than 6 digits or so), I quickly figure out if it is a multiple of 9 or not.

Italy. It all started with Italian class at BYU and the bello men who taught it. And there was Carly which only fueled the obsession fire. We bought dresses to wear to a club there (our Italy dresses) and leather passport cases to use when we went. We took pictures of ourselves making gnocchi at my apartment and left them in our teacher's mailbox. I could go on and on. Really. Have either of us been yet? No.

Ok although, I could go on with more obsessions, I'll just stop here and conclude with:

Blogging. My roommates fear my blogging obsession. "Where's Marcy?" "Probably blogging." Wayne leaves me notes on her computer b/c she knows I will get them when I go to check blogs in the basement on my Fridays off. All of you who have blog trackers probably think I am a stalker....And according to this post, I haven't done a dang thing to prove you wrong.

Adios Amigos. Sorry if I Sat Too Close.

Well, the Guats moved out on Saturday, but not before I was almost attacked by one of their chickens. As a matter of fact, I never knew they had any chickens until Saturday. Schatze and I went over to talk to Ophelia and tell her goodbye, when suddenly we were on a tour of their house, followed by a look at the chickens in the back yard. They have a wooden pen up against the house that had 5 chickens in it. I scooted up to look in, and as she opened the lid, one of the chickens flew up and all I saw were giant wings flapping in front of me. I screamed and jumped back and everyone laughed--Ophelia, Schatze and the next door neighbor who, for some reason, was right up against the fence watching. I felt a bit sheepish, but I bet anyone would have done the same with those giant chicken wings flapping so close--especially someone like me who had been attacked (and by attacked I mean flown into) by a bird years ago. Anyway, we exchanged phone numbers and Ophelia told us, "Just call me whenever you want to talk to me. Let's say goodbye before I cry." Ahh me, sad hours seem long.

Speaking of hours that seem long, my roommates' new favorite joke is discussing who has to sit by me at church. "Well, I have to sit by her in Sunday School, so you have to have Relief Society. But who will take Sacrament meeting?" So I volunteered to sit separately, but that didn't happen in the end. You see, my roommates think I'm a close sitter. And maybe I am. Schatze likes to tell everyone how 2 weeks ago I was "cupping" her, meaning I had my arm on the pew behind her and my leg crossed towards her. When she told me to stop cupping her, I scooted away. But after church, I was informed that when moving away from Schatze, I had moved too close to Wayne. I guess I am going to have to continue working on avoiding personal space invasion.

And finally, on an even more unrelated note, have you seen the previews for Hell's Kitchen and Dancing with the Stars ? I can't believe they are even real shows.

It's Celebrate NASCAR Day

So what you're supposed to do is wear a NASCAR pin to work. But I don't work on Fridays. And I don't have the pin (although I may head over to AutoZone to pick one up anyway). So what I have been doing so far is wearing my Jimmie Johnson blanket around all day. And I could play Solitaire with my Jeff Gordon deck of playing cards. Any other ideas? What I wish I could do is see the NASCAR 3D IMAX narrated by Kiefer again. But the closest one is in Baltimore and I have an appointment to get my car's oil changed, tires rotated, etc in 20 minutes. Maybe I'll drive there really fast--that seems NASCARY. Any other ideas? Let me know and in the meanwhile, here's a little pic of Jimmie for ya:

I Twirl My Hair Without Realizing It

# of minutes spent looking at pics of Tony and Jack on IMDB.com yesterday: 14

# of minutes spent trying to save those pictures for my blog: 9

# of pictures saved: 0

# of times "work hard" is listed on my notecard to-do list this week: 4

# of Neil Diamond CDs ordered this week: 1

# of days 'til the pools open: 8

# of miles can run without stopping to walk: .75

# of men in the car behind me on the way to work this morning doing a major air drum solo: 1

# of Ashton Kutcher movie clips shown at Enrichment last night: 1

# of times can wear sunglasses without feeling like a poser: 0
(I can't help it. I don't feel cool enough to pull them off, therefore I only wear them when I really need them--like at the pool or the beach--or as a headband.

# of famous people attempted to call yesterday: 6

# of famous people reached: 0

# of rude men lied to by me yesterday: 1

# of times spoke with mom on her cell phone re: John Wayne while she was in the middle of teaching her class yesterday: 2

# of men behind me last night in the grocery store checkout line who touched the cashier's chest while I was paying: 1

Man, You Really Freak Me Out

Every morning this week, the exact same thing has happened and it is a little freaky. All three days when I have arrived at work between 8:35 and 8:40am, the same man is arriving at the exact same time I am. He is just ahead of me as we drive into the parking garage and he has the same car as me except his is silver. We contine down the ramps to level 2 where he turns left into a space against the wall. He throws his car into Reverse as I pass and turn to the right and pull all the way through so I can pull out front first at the end of the day and making a lovely symmetrical lineup of cars facing the aisle: Corolla, BMW, BMW, Corolla. Silver car man continues to reverse and pull in until his car is perfectly lined up in the very center of his space as I head into the lobby. I push the button for the elevator and wait. Suddenly the door flies open abruptly and silver car man comes plowing into the lobby, hits the elevator button (even though it is already lit up from me pushing it), then proceeds to the opposite side of the lobby and stands against the wall in the corner as far away from me as he can possibly get. A few seconds later the same elevator (even though there are four)opens and we get on. He gets off on 7 and I get off on 9. That's it. Maybe I should be on time tomorrow.

If Tony Dies, Marcy Cries.

A couple of weeks ago when it started being evident that Tony and Michelle were going to get back together, I said that they were just trying to reel us in and then they will kill one of them off. I was hoping it would be Michelle, but now I'm nervous with Tony taken hostage and all. Should I have been up worrying about this like I was from 3-4 a.m. this morning? Probably not. But, seriously, sometimes I am more attracted to Tony than even Jack. Don't hate me for that. I love Tony and I am not exaggerating when I say I will shed a tear if they wipe him out.

Today on May 17th, the 9th Anniversary of my graduation from high school, and Name That Song day, I give you these lyrics:

"..if I hurt you, I'd make wine from your tears."

Comment on Tony, but be the first to EMAIL ME (see my profile page) with the title and artist to win the prize.

Don't Freak Your Beak

Our neighbors, the Guats (that is not a racial slur but just an example of my 10-year habit of abbreviating everything) are moving and we are sad. They have helped us a lot. Including the time they ruined their Target credit card trying to unjam my door, or when I hoisted their teenage son Pedro up so he could crawl through our side window and let me in after I ran outside one morning and locked myself out. Or when they shoveled out two and a half feet of snow so I could park Roxy's car. Or when they helped start Schatze's car. In preparation for their move, they have constant access to a HUGE truck they keep filling up that says something about The Purple Heart on the side. Where did they get that truck? And how do they have so much stuff to keep putting in it? They also took down their particle board shed in the back yard this weekend that had "Syke" written in spraypaint on the side.
Guats, I will miss you.

I really really really wanted to go to the NASCAR race in Richmond this past Saturday night. My only consolation was that Jimmie was out in the v. beginning and was barely in any of the race, which would have been highly disappointing had I been there.

On two separate occasions I have been asked about NASCAR this weekend. Once was by Ann at the munch and mingle after church, who followed up by telling us, "I always see you girls mingling, but never with guys." Thanks, Ann, for your tact.

Don't forget tomorrow is Name that Song Day!

This weekend I switched out my summer and winter clothes and felt like I am a materialistic sinner when I saw how many I own. Today I wore a skirt that has been packed away for the winter and when I went to put something in my back pocket I found: 1 leftover ride ticket from the Utah State Fair from my visit last Fall, 1 movie ticket from the Tower Theater in SLC for Danny Deckchair (see it if you haven't) and FIFTY DOLLARS. I can't wait to decide what glorious thing I will spend it on!

And finally a question: When peeps sing and they have that vibrato voice, are they doing that on purpose or does it just happen? I'm sincere in this question. We had a really fast vibrato singer yesterday for our special musical number and it got me to thinking.

Please Don't Break My Heart by Writing Negative Comments About John Wayne

I will not relent in my love for John Wayne, despite the fact that I have been openly mocked by three different people this week for it. But I think it is in my blood.

When I was in high school, my aunt gave my mom one of those life-size, stand-up cardboard cut-outs of John Wayne for a joke. I put it in the window next to our back door so when anyone drove up or came in, there was John Wayne looking out the window at them. My sister didn't think that was cool so she would always move it and then I would put it back and then she would move it again. This went on for months.

Whenever I talk to my grandmother on the phone, my grandfather will pick up just so we can have a little banter from True Grit and then hang up. When they were here last week and I was in the parking lot headed to my car, my grandfather walked out to the balcony of the motel and we had to yell it to each other from there, too. He says, "Coooorrrrn Dodger?" Then I say, "Light a match, and let me see if there's blood on it first." Then he laughs and says, "We ain't lightin' no matches!" And once for his birthday, my mom and I got him a cake that said "Corn dodger" on it instead of "Happy Birthday." (Everytime we eat we also have to say another line from the True Grit: "I've had enough. And enough is as good as a feast."

John Wayne's favorite character he ever played was Ethan Edwards from The Searchers. He even named his son Ethan after him. My brother is also named Ethan. (Ethan Christopher that is. But my mom now wishes it were Ethan Chance, after JW's character in The Hellfighters.)

My brother Ethan loves John Wayne and has already started reciting his lines at age 4 (the legacy continues!).

A few years ago I was in Moab, and I made our group make a special trip to the lobby of the Apache Motel, where John Wayne stayed while filming a movie once, so I could get a picture of myself there---and they even had pictures of him hanging on the walls!

Last year I celebrated my birthday with a dinner at a restaurant a half-hour south of here called The True Grit Restaurant.

I have read 2 biographies of John Wayne.

I have been asked by more than one friend to recommend John Wayne movies to give to their dads. (including Schatze whose dad insists on calling him The King instead of The Duke. He knows that Elvis is the King, but insists that John Wayne is the King to him.)

It is normal for me to give at least one gift related to John Wayne a year to my mom.

My mom has written a letter to one of John Wayne's sons.

Only a few months into my job, my boss was in a meeting and he had his door open. He and the other man had both been Marines and our office is near the Iwo Jima Memorial so their topic of conversation turned to the movie The Sands of Iwo Jima. As I sat at my desk down the hall, I listened to them talk about the movie and spend a few minutes trying to remember John Wayne's character's name. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and just confessed to my eavesdropping by yelling down the hall "It's Seargant Striker!"

Besides owning John Wayne movies, I have a coffee table book on my shelf The Duke: A Life in Pictures as well as a CD America: Why I Love Her. It has patriotic music over which John Wayne narrates stories and poems about America.

While I was at BYU, Carly and I briefly got into writing at e-pinions.com. I wrote 2 v. passionate reviews of True Grit & The Quiet Man.

In 2004, a friend of mine had a St. Patrick's Day party where we watched The Quiet Man. It was a lovely affair and when we all received our invitations in the mail, they included a line stating that I would be there to talk about the movie with my vast John Wayne knowledge. It was a lot of pressure, but I really came through.

I have to admit that I feel like I know John Wayne and that he is part of my family. I think it's hereditary (my mom saw Big Jake in the theater 6 times as a kid)...or maybe it's just his manly man, tough guy, patriotic, father-figure image that none of us can resist.

If It's Too Loud, Turn it Down

Well, my grandparents are out of here this morning, but not before some memorable times. For example, my grandfather called all restaurant servers, National Park Rangers, and basically any male working anywhere "Bud." He also was not happy that Chipotle (a restaurant serving ONLY tacos and burritos) didn't have any mustard.

My grandmother and I went shopping on Friday. And we had to go to multiple TJMaxx stores to find the right size in a certain pair of pants that she LOVED. And she loved them for me. And they are actually pretty cute, if you live at the beach.

But I have been thinking about living at the beach ever since I took a quiz online and Miami and Honolulu were in the top 5 cities in America that best fit me. It must be because I'm a "sun worshipper" as my grandmother likes to call me. I can't help it. I LOVE to be outside and feel the hot sun beating down on my skin. And for that skin to turn tan. If I could have my way, I would be this color year round:



However, I will just have to accept that I will be pale for 75% of the year. Plus that picture was taken after a trip to the Domincan Republic and two trips to Florida.

So I have a few recommendations for other sun worshippers out there and they are:

1. Olay Quench Radiance Reviver Body Lotion


and

2. Hoola bronzer by Benefit


Anyway, back to the story. After my grandmother took about 10 pictures of me in my new Miami pants, I said goodbye to my grandpa and her. Their trip was a lot of fun--very memorable.

And this morning, as I blared my new Weezer CD and blew bubbles with my Bubblicious Lebron's Lightning Lemonade gum, I realized I may have reverted back to my teenage years with my grandparents gone. I found myself hitting 2 different stores late last night looking for the new Weezer CD, solely because I felt like I needed to buy it on the day it came out. You see, this is me over 10 years ago:



This Weezer fan club card was made by the original fan club presidents Mykel and Carli (R.I.P.). The Blue Album was the first CD I ever owned. And I bought Pinkerton and the Green Album on the day they came out, so it is only natural that I should pick up Make Believe on its debut. As I walked into the store, I felt a pain of guilt about Maladroit--the only Weezer CD I don't own, and decided I better get it as well. However, it was the only Weezer CD that the record store didn't have either. I will just have to pick it up later I guess. They did have a Punk Tribute to Weezer--which I am interested in finding out more about--including a cover of "Tired of Sex" by a band called the "Latterday Saints."

I love the new CD, but it is my opinion they can never outdo the Blue Album. And having only listened all the way through once so far, my initial favorite song is "This is Such a Pity." And I'm back on the Weezer train.

Did You Know

That in my office I have:

1. my Jimmie Johnson calendar on the wall.
2. a newspaper article pinned to the wall with the headline "Sexy Rummy" about Donald Rumsfeld mailed to me by Roxy a couple of years ago.
3. 3 business cards taped to my desk from a Congressman who gives me one everytime I see him.
4. an award for Gerald Ford hanging on my wall. Why is it not on his wall?
5. a lamp and small clock on my desk--to make it seem more homey. Even though I have a huge window and plenty of light. And I never look at that clock for the time. And my office doesn't really look homey even with them because of all the huge piles of stuff everywhere.

That Regarding My Blog:

1. I suspect I have an avid reader (stalker) who is Japanese. (If you are there, identify yourself!)
2. The majority of search engine searches that have led to my blog involve country music terms. I don't really listen to country more than any other music, but I guess I talk about it more.
3. The minority of search engine searches that have led people to my blog include such disturbing things as: "pull up her skirt", "eavesdrop on girls conversations on the web", "BYU bellydancing", "stacie's nude website", and not one but TWO searches for "Paula Abdul's breasts."

Today's color is: Pick-Me-Up Pink

It doesn't take much work to prep for my grandparents' visit--just making sure I have plenty of lipstick in my purse, and that I apply it often. That's the number one thing. I don't know what the deal is with my grandmother and lipstick, but it is a big deal with her. I wish I had a nickel for everytime she has said any of the following to me:

"You need some darker lipstick on."
"Run back there and put on some lipstick before I take your picture."
"I've got some lipstick in my purse if you need some."
"Oh did you have a good time at the [insert activity here]? I hope you had your lipstick on."
"Don't forget to put on your lipstick before you run to the store, you never know who you'll run into. You can't take any chances"
And by who I run into she means that she hopes it will be my future husband. And Heaven forbid, I run into my future husband without lipstick.

I joke about this, but, in truth, I have taken a little of it to heart. And it doesn't help that it was reinforced by the movie Evita. Roxy and I noticed that in the end of the movie, when Evita is dead, the only difference in her appearance is a lack of lipstick. And she really does look dead. Pale lips = bad. Anyway, this probably isn't a problem for everyone...I'm sure it depends on your natural lip color, your skin color, etc...but it is a problem for Madonna and me. What I'm saying is, I have a lot of lipstick on right now and I'm sure I will be continuously reapplying over the next week. And I'm also sure my grandmother will be happy that my hair is just a little bit longer than it was at Christmas.

Other than being lip-prepared for their visit, I hid a few things under my bed and wiped the inside of my car down while I was driving in to work today and now I'm all ready for their arrival. Their motel is reserved. I've got directions on hand to all the nearest country buffets. Let the adventures begin!

Calling All Supertasters (and everyone else, too)

Skewedview sent me this Sensory Test. Give it a try. Let's hope you get a higher score than my pitiful 7/20.

Some Things I Want To Tell You

1. I really like places with juke boxes. You can hear whatever you want! And it's only a quarter!
2. Our dinner on the deck yesterday was only briefly interrupted by our neighbor behind us running out his back door and vomiting over the side of his deck while we all watched.
3. I have been watching Grey's Anatomy on Sunday nights. It's fairly good but for some reason at 10pm on a Sunday night, during the "Sunday night 'I've got to go to work in the morning' Blues," it seems really really good. And it has Patrick Dempsey. And the final narration at the end of the show always seems so wise at 11:00 at night. Schatze has a piece of paper where she writes down things they say that we like. Sometimes when we go back and read them though, they just seem ordinary when taken out of context. For example, the line we thought was so great last week was "The pain is real." Wow. THAT IS INSIGHTFUL. Last night we wrote down, "Knowing is better than wondering," which was said by Ben Franklin, and therefore merits notetaking I think. But I'll refrain from writing my personal favorite line from a few weeks ago because it is not really ladylike for me to repeat.
4. During a round of Catch Phrase on Saturday, I blurted out, "If you don't talk good...."
5. I just got an email from Schatze with the subject line of: "Gay Tickle Update" in which she updates me on the sleuth work she has done about 2 guys in front of us at stake conference yesterday who were massaging and tickling each others' backs while we obsessively gawked, speculated and Schatze took a trip to the restroom so she could walk past them and check them out on all sides.
6. The annoying construction going on in front of our house is slightly less irritating because of the fact that we have each picked a boyfriend construction worker to watch and talk about. And they know we are doing it and laughing at us. literally. we saw them laughing at us.