Pre-term

While my given name is Susan, if you know me well enough hopefully you would agree that I am very much not a Susan, and a complete Susie.

I often question if Susie will become too juvenile of a name at a certain age. Something seems weird about a 70 year-old Susie. I don't know why I fuss over it so much. But I will argue that the Susie to Susan jump is far more life-changing than say Mike to Michael or Matt to Matthew. I don't know why, it just is.

I had a brief experience last week that almost forced me into pre-term Susan before I was ready to go there and age myself 20 years.

I started a new job last month and I am obviously still acclimating to the office and my colleagues. My new bossman is a little intimidating. I'm sure that will change over time, but he called me into his office last week and the following conversation occurred, or something like unto it:

Boss: (In a slightly annoyed tone) “Please call IT today and have them change your name to Susan Jensen in the system. There is another Susie Jensen in the company directory that works in our Arizona division and it is causing problems when I try to email you. It will just be easier all-around if you go by Susan ... thanks.”

Silently I stood in front of him with my compliant, “yes sir”, “ jump how high?” new employee face, completely annoyed with "Arizona Susie." I processed my options and counter-offered the big guy.

Me: “Can I have IT try and hard-code my name somehow into your Outlook so you don’t have any problems? I’d really rather not go by Susan if at all possible.”

Needless to say Susie Jensen lives happily ever after. The end.

Tell me how you really feel . . .

I knew Niels didn't enjoy the smell of my nighttime lip balm, but I didn't realize the extent . . .

Groupie Love

We defrosted in southern California for the second week of Niels's break. The main catalyst for the trip was a "Home for the Holidays" reunion show for the band he played in during college, Orange Whip Groove.

Most of the fellas (well actually all of them) are from California, but they graciously allowed a Las Vegan in their circle to tickle the keys.

It was great to see the whole crew and hear about all the changes real life has brought in a short three years. For some, a few kids are now in the mix, coupled with some real jobs, and some are still living the grad school dream.



I wasn't really expecting much in terms of a turnout, but the venue was pretty awesome and there were over 100 people there. Not too shabby! It was fun to revert to the groupie days of following the band around for all their gigs. Nice work OWG!

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Roots

My roots run deep roots in Malad, Idaho. Having only spent the first four years of my life there, I don't remember nearly as much as my three older siblings do. But that's ok considering that I am the most normal of my kin since I lived the least amount of time there.

While the town doesn't mean a lot to many people, perhaps not even some it's residents . . . it is very symbolic to me. It is a heavy reminder of my amazing family roots, and of the wonderful times of my family before my dad passed away. Thoughts of "what if " flood my mind every time I visit . . . mostly what if we actually stayed and I grew up here?

While this is simply the only grocery store in the town to most, Thomas Market or Thomas Foodtown is the grocery store my grandfather built and operated. He passed the torch down to my uncle, and he recently sold it to his son (in the photo). It obviously has been updated over the years with all the bells and whistles. I sure hope the Walmart empire will never ruin this place.

Circa 1980s






Where else can you get "Ho-made" pie?


The legendary Malad Drive-in. It was closed the day we went and I had to forgo the iron port and cheese snack combo I had been dreaming of for weeks. Saddest. day. ever.





Our house. So crazy to me that I lived here since I obviously don't remember it at all.



My dad's resting place

Forgive the duplicity of this post me if you follow Jessica's blog.

My best friend is pretty much amazing for many reasons but mostly these three:

• She has 3 children and she is my age
• She is graduating with her masters degree in May
• She attended my wedding 7 days after giving birth AND slapped on a bridesmaid dress.

Well, I was lucky enough to go visit her and her fam last month to see her new baby boy, Conner. He is a miracle baby after spending nearly a month in the NICU with a few minor complications. He's a tiny man and I love him! I brought him a few 0-3 months outfits and I think they will fit around 9 months.

All gussied up for his blessing. So handsome.



Nothing like a frigid downtown Reno parade!







Cute lil' momma



Me and the Sadie lady


So maybe I get a little nervous when it snows really hard. Especially when I have to travel in it. And maybe I over-exaggerate a little when it comes to inclement weather. It stormed in Reno and I thought I was going to be snowed in for weeks. While I could think of worse things than being stuck with the bff, life goes on and a girls needs to get home. So when life deals me bad weather, I hire the local teenage potheads from her complex to shovel us out!

(Notice Jessica cheering them on the background.)

The downside of living with your dentist

A few nights ago Niels came in the bedroom to take a break from studying and I was already in bed with lights out just about to fall asleep. The following conversation followed:

Niels: Babe, are you asleep?
Me: Not yet . . .
Niels: Did you already get ready for bed?
Me: Yup
Niels: You brushed your teeth?
Me: Sure did. (did he really just ask that?)

3 minutes goes by as he starts his nighttime routine in the bathroom

Niels: What toothbrush did you use, honey? (I realize most people only have 2, but we usually have about 6 going at once)
Me: The electric one. Are you really checking the bristles to make sure they're wet? Like I'm 5 and lied to you about brushing my teeth? (Seriously?!!?)
Niels: Yup.
Me: Wow.

Tradition

Just in case you missed this beauty last year. Or perhaps you want to make it a tradition and watch it every year like us . . .

If you don't watch the whole thing, make sure to go to 3:20 -ish.

True Love

I spent 3 hours in his chair last week to see him practice what he preaches.



It was nice because I could give him honest feedback that most patients wouldn't, or I could just bite his hands when he hurt me. He has exceptional chair-side manner, but maybe I am biased.



He practiced this one about 8 times . . . good times.

Whale of a Tale

Niels was sort of a guest blogger today. Check it.

5,6,7,8

I have several adolescent-ish guilty pleasures, one of the main ones being that I love watching So you Think you Can Dance?

While I have been more loyal and dedicated to some seasons more than others, I really enjoyed season 5. So in pure teenage/groupie fashion I went to see the top 10 dancers live on tour with my friend Ally. We danced together back in the day, so it was only appropriate.



If you don't already know, all of the dances on the show are usually meant to express some sort of theme, or they are intended to tell of some kind of story that a choreographer envisions. Now I am not one to get emotional when it comes to interpretive dancing. Mainly because I rarely see or understand what the choreographer was intending to portray. (i.e. Melissa and Ade's Breast Cancer dance that everyone cried about. Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful dance . . . but I still just don't see how it correlated!) But one dance in particular really moved me last season. I literally got goosebumps and a little misty-eyed when I first saw it, and again when I watched it live last week. Silly, I know. That is the first time a dance has ever done that to me.

This piece is about addiction and I find it so brilliantly powerful. Again, while I find most interpretative dances to be pretty abstract and out-there, I find this one to be very direct and moving, even if you aren't into dancing. The song is great as well.

I may also have a certain affinity for this dance seeing how addiction has impacted both of our families on several levels. I am pretty confident that if you haven't personally been affected by some sort of addiction, you will likely know someone who has and you can appreciate this dance:

Watch Lyrical Dance videos and dance lessons at DanceJam.com

Who Needs Flowers

What girl doesn’t love fresh flowers?

In the early days of our relationship, I occasionally found little discreet ways to hint to Niels that tulips are my favorite flowers and that I thought roses are so cliché. I just thought he should be aware in case he ever . . . wanted to know or anything.

Needless to say, I felt slightly crushed when he directly shot down my passive hints by telling me that fresh flowers are overpriced, they die too quickly, and that they were not a part of his poor student budget. Zing. I thought that was pretty Debbie Downer of him initially . . . until I discovered that he would give me things far cooler than an occasional tulip arrangement.

Niels has always been a music buff. He lives to find new bands on blogs and he is constantly updating his iPod with fresh tunes. And then you have me who gets around to changing my songs out about thrice a year . . . if that.

Who needs flowers when your husband makes you awesome new music mixes every month? They don’t die, they don’t cost a dime and they are one of a kind.



I listen to each mix all month long and by the time I am burnt out the next month’s mix is ready. It’s a fabulous system he has going really. Oh, and his disk art is always the best part.

At first glance I was confused by this one. He said, “Look closely, it’s a mixture in a beaker.”



This month's was pretty good too - the labeled cornucopia.


Do you put ham in your cornucopia?

Scrappy

When I got laid off this summer, one of my closest friends reassured me that I would be ok because I have always been “scrappy.” An awkward silence followed and then I replied, “Um, thanks? . . .”

I’m sure she meant well and that it was one of those intended compliments people give you like, “Wow, you look really comfy today.” Nonetheless, I sat for a minute not really sure what to make of it. Over the past 4 months I have realized that I am indeed scrappy.

A day or two hasn’t passed these last few months without someone asking me if I am working yet, and/or how I am staying busy with my time. I either give the long or the short answer depending on who is asking, and what my mood is that day.

The truth is that I have been staying crazy busy with tons of side work- short version.

Long version - I feel very fortunate for how things have come out of the woodwork and have fallen into place. Some might already know that I have been working as a virtual assistant for over a year for one of my former professors. I know, it kind of sounds kind of futuristic and somewhat Jetson-esque. Anyway, he has an established career with a well-known institution, but also runs a PR consulting firm on the side. I mainly do research for him, edit case studies and manage some of the operational things he doesn’t have time for. For a while, I juggled assisting him and doing my full-time job with HP. I really enjoyed the diversity it added to my daily grind.

After I lost my job this summer, I seriously tossed around the idea of how I could make a business model out of assisting people remotely from my home because I enjoy it so much. I started doing some preliminary research and soon discovered that I wouldn’t be able to compete with the ridiculously low rates that VAs charge in places like India and in the Philippines on sites like Elance.com. They seriously work for practically nothing!

I hadn’t thought twice about the whole thing since then, but somehow managed to pick up two more clients. So, I am now assisting 3 people remotely and it is working out fantastic. The best part is that I will still be able to manage them when I start my new job next month. I will be a crazy lady, but I guess I have always enjoyed a full plate.

While some friends already know the details of my new job, it is still too premature to announce them to the World here. More details to follow . . . stay tuned.

Utahrds.

Congrats, Utah. Apparently It's now cool to wear flip flops and socks in winter.

After all these years, I'm now thinking that maybe I shouldn't have made fun of all the BYU zoobies in shorts and sandals every snowy winter. Apparently they were under cover fashionistas.

The 80's Called

And it wants it clothes back.

To say that I am completely underwhelmed with the recent fashion trends would be a grand understatement.

I work with the youth at my church and have recently had several healthy doses of: Are you kidding me? I wore that when I was a kid.

Ironically enough, I recall my mom saying the same thing when I was wearing flare bell bottoms in seventh grade. Ladies and gents - we have come full circle.

Side pony tails, zipper jeans, neon wannabe Rayband sunglasses, neon everything, stone wash denim, Keds, plaid, splatter paint apparel . . . and other ridiculous things that seriously should have skipped this fashion resurface cycle I am just discovering. Although, I haven't seen banana clips resurrect . . . yet.

Now on the other side of the dime, I would be thrilled if 80s butt rock music came back. I am not lying when I tell you that Monster Ballads is on my top 5 list of albums I own. Just saying.

Too Much Time on my Hands?

Because I am slightly a type A personality that thrives on being busy and productive, I have found the hardest part about being unemployed (minus the whole sans income thing) has been staying productive and doing legitimate things with this newly acquired surplus time. Sure I enjoy a good vacation as much as the next person, but I actually enjoy having a full plate. Dare I say that I like being stressed to some extent? I dare.

So far I have found several things and random projects to occupy my time while seeking new employment. It has been nice spending additional time on things I already enjoy doing like cooking, gyming, reading, hanging with Niels, etc. But I have also picked up some things that I wouldn't normally do if I was busy with work. Things like trying to learn how to sew (?!!?!?), or paroozing through my 8th grade Spanish class notebook to refresh the skills, trying to figure out how the heck to do genealogy, etc.

Well I decided to venture into another unfamiliar realm and dedicated one of my weeks to creating my two-year-old niece's birthday present. Now I would say that I am creative, but I would argue that being crafty is a whole other beast. I embraced this fact, I found my inner Martha, and soon a project was born.

To sum it up, I would say that Avery is a wild child. So freaking cute, but a handful. So I thought I would make her some quiet activity folders that I have seen all these kids play with at church. They are genius! Now most people won't see my project as a crafty endeavor, or will think it is not a big deal. But this was pretty huge for me people. It required:

A ton of coloring, and I mean a TON:


A ton of cutting:


Luckily I had a part-time employee at the sweatshop:


Lots of laminating:


Some more cutting:


I'm really ok with not seeing scissors for a while . . .


Some of the finished products:


Good thing that she's totally worth it: