Pluck, Shave, Call...Shoot?

Two things I REALLY want to do right now:

1. Pluck my right eye out...just for a little bit, not forever. I do need it.

2. Shave off layers of my face skin until it's smooth...yes, I know this is sorta Hannibal Lecter-ish, but I totally wouldn't eat it or anything.

Why I want to do these sadistic things:

1. I have leaky eye today, and it's driving me crazy. I blame it on the rain...and not just because Milli Vanilli said to. I believe the rain stirred up the allergens and activated my allergies.

2. My face, well chin, is broken out. I don't know why I am reliving my teen years. I'm saying that it's due to the new birth control pills my doc put me on, which is why I called them yesterday and said Switch it now or I'll cut you! The lady said that they sooo don't respond to threats, terrorist or midgets with deep voices. I said But how do you know if someone with a deep voice is a midget? I mean, that's kind of discriminatory to think that only really short people would have deep voices. I would totally think the opposite, really. I'd be more inclined to believe little people have high voices and like giants would have deep voices. Then she got all attitudinal with me about how she doesn't make the policy, just enforces it, and that's when I was like Well, how do you respond to someone with a gun in your ear? She then tried to use her twisted logic to convince me that if I shot at the phone receiver it wouldn't travel through the phone and hit here in the ear, but like, how does she know? I bet she never tried it...and because I had her on the phone I thought why not ask. Have you ever tried it? She said she had and that all it did was blow her phone into a bunch of pieces and put  hole in her wall. I totally don't want to have to call a drywall guy to come repair a hole, so I opted not to shoot at her through the phone. Although, I still think it would have worked. In the end, I got a new Rx.

I would like to try that SkinID stuff, but it's $51, which isn't horrible, but my Nutrogena face pads are $8. I know I should fork over the extra $43 to get a better product, but I'm trying to save money right now. I might get some next week, though. I went online and took the questionnaire to find out what my skin ID is, and I'm a 25, 32, 53. I think there's hidden meaning in those numbers. They symbolize the age you'll be when something awesome happens. I'm 25 now, so this is one of my years, baby! Score...Or maybe they're just your lucky Pick3 numbers.

I've got rehearsal tonight for the scenes we're shooting this weekend. My character gets to open up a bit and share a little about her past. I'm hoping to squeeze out some tears. I'll let ya know how it goes...

PS: In my search for a picture of a gun held up to a phone I found a gun that doubles as a phone. Not so sure about the safety there. I mean, you could be talking to your husband and he's all I don't want to have dinner at your parents' house. Then you get all frustrated and squeeze the phone, totally forgetting it's also a gun, and BANG...Honey, I'll have to call you back. I just shot someone again.

Because Carrie Says So

OK Carrie. Here. Happy? I was reprimanded this morning by my bestie, Carrie, because it's been over a week since my last post. I think I may even be grounded. No TV, no phone. I'm just allowed my computer. She locked me in a dark room with no windows and told me I wont get food or water until I write...(cough cough) So. Thirsty...Shhh. I think she's coming. If she finds out I am reaching out for help she'll make me write two posts. Or even three. Oh the horror!...OK, we're safe. False alarm.

On a happier note, I am all booked for my trip to Playa del Carmen in 6 weeks. Julie, Carrie and I are taking a girls trip...that is if I ever get out of this dungeon. We're going for Carrie's 26th birthday and what a blast it's gonna be. Non of us have been to Playa, so we are stoked. My dad put me in touch with his travel agent, and we got an all inclusive trip for 5 days for $585. What a steal! That's flight, transportation to and from the airport, hotel stay, all the food and drinks we can handle, tips and tax. I can't wait! I've got a new swimsuit already and a new summer dress. Still more shopping to do, though. Not too much because I am attempting to save money so that I have some for the trip.

Where I'll be in less than 6 weeks

Oh, I'm going to be on set this weekend. Yay! We haven't shot anything in a while, and I'm anxious to get back in there and get this thing on its way to post production. 

I've got a tummy ache today. It started last night after dinner, which leads me to believe that something I ate didn't sit well. I kept waking up in the middle of the night because it was hurting, but I'm pushing through...I will say that my tummy ache ain't getting my an excuse slip from kickboxing tonight. Mommy Dearest (and I mean Carrie) says I have to go. That said, if I feel a strong urge to ralph while jumping up and down in a hotass room, I will most certainly aim my projection right at her. See if she tries to make me go to the gym the next time I'm not feeling well. Sucka! I think that maybe I'll show up at the gym looking very pale with dark circles under my eyes and a sign around my neck that says "I can barely walk, but Carrie says she'll beat me with a spiked chain if I don't come to class. Must obey or get stitches again. Doctors say the brain damage shouldn't be permanent. 2+2=9. The sun is purple. A, B, C, H, P, Z, R." Payback.

Alright, that's all I got for today. My stomach hurts so bad I can hardly move my fingers to type...but I did it for Carrie. Haha! Lookout for some hate mail, Carrie : )

Sore Muscles, Eye Poking, Birthday Celebration, Sunburn, Dentist...It's all here

OK, so now I'm on day 2 since my trip to the gym, and I am more sore today than I was yesterday. Lifting air hurts my biceps. Sitting down is agony. And all I can say about stairs is that they're the Devil. And I guess I exchanged brain cells for muscle mass because I am going back tonight to do it all again. If you could see the fake excitement on my face, you'd know how I truly feel about doing BodyPump again. 

Yeah, it kinda resembles the guy's face. You can tell he doesn't want to be there...Or he just pooped his pants. One or the other. Either way, he's not happy.

I told Carrie I would karate chop her in the forehead for doing this to me, and I stand by my word. When she picks me up for class I will say hello (because she is my friend) and then hi-ya straight at her forehead. After which I will ask her how her day at work was (because she is my friend).

I honestly don't know how in the hell I'm going to lift that freakin' barbell or even attempt a squat. And if the instructor tells me not to bite my lip or scrunch my face (he said that to people on Tues.), I'm going to put my barbell down, walk, I mean limp, over to him and bite his nose. Actually, he sweats a lot, and I don't want to get his sweat in my mouth so I wont bite him. But I will poke him in the eye. Just a real quick poke. Not too hard to cause damage or impair vision. Just enough so that he gets the message and has to wink the rest of class. 

This Saturday is my nephew, Jackson's, 5th birthday. I can't believe he's 5 already. He has grown to be such a precious little boy. So polite and well-behaved. Cute as a button (How did that expression come about? I mean, are buttons really that cute? I think there are way cuter things in this world than a button. Like those mini burgers that are all the craze right now. Why not He's as cute as a mini cheeseburger...Whatevs) 

I haven't decided where to take him yet. I'm waiting to see what my bro suggests. I want to take him somewhere he doesn't get to go often but really loves. I'm excited to have a day with Jackson, just me and him.

Oh, to add to my sore legs, arms and butt, I have a sunburn on my chest (you know, from my weekend at the inflatable pool), and it hurts. It's starting to peel right along the breast bone, and last night I had to go to sleep with a cold rag in between my boobs. I held it in place with my cleavage. I finally get my normal face back (had a massive breakout last week, you can read about it here), and now my body goes to poop. If it ain't one thing, it's another.

Went to the dentist this morning. Before I get my teeth cleaned I always do a kickass job of brushing and flossing them myself in hopes that the hygienist will think I always take such good care of my teeth. So this morning I brushed super good, flossed and brushed again. How she was still scrapping crap off my teeth is beyond me. Good news is that I have no cavities...and if you've known me pre-adult teeth, you'll know that's quite a feat. I just hate that taste and feel you have after getting your teeth cleaned. That toothpaste, which I'm sure comes from outer space, never rinses off completely so when you bite down you feel that crit-like crap. And because you're there with your mouth wide open for like 45 min. straight, you have a tight jaw afterwards. No wonder people don't like going. But it's done, and I don't have to do it again for another 6 months.

Gobbleygook

So my Daddy got on to me this weekend about not writing more frequently. And when I say got on to me, I mean he said something like Babygirl, where are your blog posts? Not Listen here, young lady. If I don't see a post a day you're grounded! So in essence, he really didn't get on to me at all. But I digress...I would like to write more often (and probably could if I stopped bitchin' about how I don't have time and just sat down and did it), but I just don't have the time. But from this moment forward I vow to make a slight effort to at least pretend I have the intention of blogging more often (fingers crossed). Good enough? That wasn't really a question, so that's why I can't hear your answer. It has nothing to do with the fact that we are communicating via the Internet. I can normally hear your answers loud and clear but because I clearly stated that 'Good enough?' was not a question, your answers don't come through. Now if I say So, what are you doing? I can hear your answers...That was TMI, Dad, and Mom, you know you shouldn't be doing that. Carrie, I hope you have on knee pads while your doing what you're doing...She's playing volleyball, you nasty-minded people.

Oh, I am proud to inform everyone that my face is now back to normal...for the most part anyway. The crazy breakout I had last week has subsided. Whew! Thank you, Lord. It was not pleasant, but I am glad it's over. And I know you're wondering, but no, I did not show up at the 4th of July party with Calamine lotion on my face pretending I had the chicken pox. I played it cool and went with a paper sack over my head.

I think the extra dose of vitamin D I got this weekend helped my skin clear up. I, who am pale and translucent-like, do not get sun exposure often. However, Adam and I got a pool and were in it all weekend. And when I say pool, I mean we got an inflatable pool from Target, but it's so badass. It's not like the little circle pool with Lightening McQueen on it. It's a rectangle pool that's about 5 feet wide, 8 feet long and 3 feet deep. Adam and I can both totally layout in it with room to spare. Plus the sides are so cushiony that to just lay your head back on 'em and stretch your feet out while you sip on a beer is just heavenly. I felt kinda like the Griswold family as I filled up my inflatable pool--water hose in one hand and a beer in the other. I was just waiting for Cousin Eddie to join me outside with a speedo on, get in the pool and pee. But I don't care how white trash we looked. It was relaxing and soothing and fun and now I have a brownish tint to my arms and chest (well, mostly a reddish color on my chest, but any color is better than being Casper). I look forward to getting in it again this weekend.

 What we don't have

 What we do have...In fact, that's me and Adam standing up while our two kids (who are 14 and 12 and who no one knew existed) sit in the pool

Big day today. I am accompanying my friend, Carrie, to a workout class at the YMCA. It's called Bodypump. It's going to pump..me up. (Arnold voice/SNL skit). I haven't been to a gym in a looooong time. I wish I was jumping back in with a class like beginners stretching, but nooo. Carrie goes to Bodypump. Thanks, Carrie. If I don't make it out of this class alive, please get my nails refilled before my funeral. I broke one, and I'll be damned if that wouldn't be my unfinished business. I'll be forced to haunt Montrose Nails forever. But seriously, am I excited about this class tonight? No. But am I gonna go anyway? Yes. And why? Because Carrie will be there, and she wants me to do this with her. At least if a weight flies out of my hand and hits the guy behind me in the face, I have someone to laugh it off with. Should be interesting. If my fingers work tomorrow, I'll let you know how it goes.

Outbreak! Run Away!

OMG! That is all I say when I look at myself in the mirror...That and You've got to be kidding me! To what am I referring? Oh that would be the sudden slew of pimples that decided to appear on face over the last few days. Freaking ridiculous! I feel like I'm going through puberty again, like I'm back in high school...and I HATE it! I don't know what brought this one, but whatever it was I hate you! And I say that with a devilish glare in my eyes and gritted teeth. As if it isn't bad enough to have a case of pepperoni face, I am going to a 4th of July party tomorrow where I will see lots of people I haven't seen in a long time. Wonderful. I can see it now. Oh Sarah, hi! It's been so long. How are you? (that's what comes out of their mouth, while in their head they are saying) Holy cow! What they hell happened to her face? She's too old for puberty. Could she have some sort of disease? Oh shit! Think it's contagious? Actual words--Oh my, I just remembered that I left the iron on. Better go all the way back home and turn it off (awkward giggle). Yep, my world is closing in on me. I will soon be cast out of society. No, I am not being over dramatic. 

Maybe I should just play it up as a disease. You think if I walked into the party with Calamine lotion on my face everyone would believe I'm getting over chicken pocks? How cute would that look? I could rock it out like this kid and get people to feel sorry for me.

Or maybe I'll tell everyone I have that skin disease that sounds like tiger...Impetigo [im-peh-tie-go], that's it. OK, so it doesn't sound like tiger, but that's how I remembered the name when I was younger. Tiger. Tigo. Close enough. I was so going to put a picture of impetigo on here, but after looking at some online I think it's best that I don't. You would totally lose your lunch, or dinner or breakfast (depending on when you read this). Nast-tee. 

Ugh! I am so frustrated at my face right now. You know what, someone should make some kind of very thin, skin-colored, skin-textured adhesive sheet that you can cut to whatever size you need and place it over problem areas on your face and then your makeup goes right over it as if it were your skin. That way if you have a date or are performing somewhere or are going to a 4th of July party, you can feel more confident about your appearance. Say you get a pimple (or 50), just cut out a piece big enough to cover the pimple (or 50) and place it over the pimple (or 50) and then apply your makeup over the now smooth surface. It'd be great for scars too. I'm a genius!...Only I don't know how to make my invention or what it would be made of. But that's all in the details. Details-Smetails, I say.

Well, I'm hungry, so it's off to lunch for me. If you don't do anything else today, you should at least invest some time into feeling sorry for me. Self pity just isn't enough.