Doodling.

Sometimes I forget that not everyone I know knows that I draw and get surprised by their surprise at my doodles in public spaces. Probably the ones that have the least idea and faintest inkling are the boys who only ever see me typing or punching things into a calculator, despite happening to be my actual subjects and often time inspiration for many a rant on this very blog. I think it best to keep it that way.

Cold Tummy.

No matter how high I hike up my PJ pants or how long the large sleep tee under said hiked up PJ pants or how determined my determination as I hike up said hiked up PJ pants!

I still always always always end up waking up with all my tummy and legs exposed! Why?!

Spotlight.

My company won a record number of very prestigious awards for 2011 and I was pleasantly surprised to find all the credit for it being given to me. I mentioned not the few others that had been involved in the process and proceeded to absorb all the spotlight for myself.
YESSS YESSSSS APPLAUD ME!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHA

Rabbit.

Tsk.

I really really truly sincerely honestly hope my clothes feeling tighter as of late means not that my body has been gaining surface area by expanding sideways but that my clothes are shrinking… or at least stolen away at night by little elves to be unstitched at the seams then sewn up in smaller sizes before being put back in my closet.

Angry Birds.

I’ve recently been completely addicted to the Angry Birds game on my Android phone and have discovered that playing it at the table during corporate lunches not only makes me look busy but also prevents anyone from talking to me between chaws, effectively hitting two “angry birds” with one stone (Get it get it?!). The other day, this one coworker who, to state a completely unnecessary and random fact, is prematurely bald, found that all this time I was not checking email or texting or watching You Tube clips of cats jumping into boxes (*scoff* who would do that!! *shifty eyes*) but playing Angry Birds which he too happened to play apparently with more skeelz than me, because upon seeing my scores, this boy has the gall to SMIRK the most annoying smirk there ever has been smirked at me in all my history of smirks received, and there are not many (NO ONE belittles SUSAN). Needless to say, he’s crossed the wrong Angry Birds fanatic. This is no longer cute little round-birdies-in-a-slingshot-fun-and-games. This is WAR.

New Boots.

If you could not already tell, I am purrrrty excited about my new boots! They are the warmest, softest, cutest, most comfortable things that causes bursts of stars and song with every step. They are so awesome they have had to be crafted from wool of sweet little lambs and brought unto earth by angels. Speaking of angels, the Nordstrom’s shoe salesman was named Angel. Coincidence?!
I THINK NOT.

Mustache on a Stick.

Was up till 4am the other night (morning?) making mustaches on a stick for a wedding photo booth J and I are running this weekend. Today cranium looks to be overcast with possible 30% chance of sluggishness and voice is turned 60% more deadpan with 20% more baritone, causing a significantly lower chance of survival should a group of highly trained ninja assassins suddenly attack (with regular brain capacity on 8 hours of sleep, chance of survival: 100% if equipped with laser cats).

Biscotti.

There’s currently a large thing of Biscotti sitting suspiciously on the break room counter that I strictly avoid and only shoot sideways glances at, lest a piece suddenly fly out and shove itself into my mouth. I don’t understand Biscotti. And I tend not to like things I don’t understand. Therefore I do not like biscotti. I mean, it’s not a bread, yet it’s not a cookie, and it’s hard, but not crunchy… What are you (Interrobang!)

L.

This is my very well-dressed friend L who between pleas also offered to stage some very intriguing (?) blog-worthy scenarios such as: 1. Robbing my office in a mask poorly constructed with no eyeholes resulting in an office products massacre where somehow only monitors and desks are shot at, and 2. Stabbing me, to which I politely declined and decided that his asking so vehemently to be drawn was actually blog-worthy enough on its own while also the best way to guarantee my own welfare from potentially dire life-threatening situations.

Anniversary.

Today officially marks the third year of employment at my current company. I do happen to like my workplace and adore my boss and generally (generally) get along with the boys, but there are definitely some noticeable changes in myself since I've started work here. I shall outline these changes through a woeful tune of woe set to the music of harps, pan flute, and ukulele. This is a tune of innocence lost, of youthful moist skin gone, of cuteness drained by merciless fluorescent rays:

Oh how I've gone from cute little new hire fresh out of college and ready to fill the office with my youthful charm and energy and lovingly made fresh coffee while feeding off everyone's love and attention...


...To reserved and sometimes scary lady blatantly uninterested in anyone or their jokes.


Oh how my desk area has gone from the office social scene where the boys will flock to chat and to admire my cute cuteness…


...To scary dark place no boy dares to cross lest I turn and smile dryly at them (good mood) or chomp their heads off (bad mood).


The End. Now GIT back to WORK! (Shakes cane)

Crump Battle.

The other day during a Zumba dance class at the gym, the instructor shrieks “CRUUUMP BATTLE!!!!!!” at the top of his lungs to which we the class are supposed to respond by pairing up with a random person on the other team (other side of the room) and crumping the heck out of em. Unfortunately, my random partner (a newcomer) happened to be a stout little middle-aged lady literally half my height and when I turned and crazy-eyed her, all color fled her face in abject terror. As it happens, I am not the most skilled dancer (or crumper) in the world, but I can be the most freakishly determined, especially at the gym, and will not quit until my lungs collapse. I do not think that lady will be coming back to the class again.

Bang Bang.

Perhaps triggered by my coming of quarter-century-age, I suddenly and irrevocably became so fixated on short school-girl bangs that several times I thought to hack em up myself. Luckily, every time I stared too long into the mirror with a fistful of hair in one hand and with scissors in the other, Good Sense kicked in and fought the scissors back into the pencil mug on my desk. The last time I got so fixated on short bangs was after watching Bride Wars and I very mistakenly concluded that I was only but a bang-lengths away from being as hot as Kate Hudson. At that time, Good Sense was chillaxing by the pool thinking that I’d never do it, but I did. And then I screamed. Knowing I wasn’t one to give up, Good Sense this time suggested I ask my friend JJ to cut my bangs, being the hair cutting extraordinaire that she is, and having currently a fantastic haircut that she had done herself.

Yay! Short-bang fixation cured!

Crush(ed).

(Fig. A: Crush according to my memories from 1998. Stars, rainbows and hearts actually were in constant orbit around him.)

My fondest teenybopper crush-memory was this boy in eighth grade who befriended me when I was a scared new kid in a new school. We ended up as homeroom buddies and constantly got reprimanded by the teacher for “playing footsie” under the desks when we were actually trying to kick each other in the shins because everyone knows kicking someone in the shins is the craziest fun one can have with a crush (or anyone) during class. I sat in a desk perpendicular to his and during class he’d always tilt his cute little head back all the way to stare at me in boredom and his eyes were the brownest eyes my little 13 year old heart could ever hope to drown in. My teenybopper heart nearly suffocated with emotion, and at an abject loss of how to react to his gaze, I would then stab him between the eyes with a mechanical pencil, triggering another round of friendly kick-em-in-the-shins.

The other day whilst sharing teenybopper crush stories with my buddy M I got so overwhelmed by warm fuzzies and nostalgia that I searched and found him on Facebook, only to my immediate regret.


(Fig.B: Crush present day no longer accompanied by band of hearts, stars and rainbows.)

(Fig. C: All of Susan's fond memories instantly decimated by a single facebook picture.)

Some things are definately better left unseen.

High.

Warning: Sugar high induced from a weekend of multiple cakes, brownies, ice cream, yummy fatty foods, friends, surprises, and attention may take several months (exactly twelve) to come off of.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is my birthday. But celebration starts today (woot)!
When I was a kid my birthday anticipations were heavily influenced by Tom Hank’s movie “Big” in that I was convinced that the night before my birthday during my sleep my body would grow a couple inches taller, my hair longer, and my brain automatically downloaded with a 20% upgrade in smarts by which I would suddenly be able to trump every spelling, vocab, and math test at school. Every year I woke up a teeny bit disappointed because I felt and looked (and was) exactly the same as last night when I was a year younger. That my body did not respond to this momentous fact of an additional year by transforming itself overnight made absolutely no sense to me, and I would proceed to feel confused and lost, unsure now as a fledgling eight year old how to navigate the world with my sadly outdated seven year old height, seven year old hair length, and seven year old smarts. Five minutes later this fret would be completely forgotten during my parents’ annual birthday tradition of bursting into the room and yelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY at the top of their lungs and grabbing me out of bed to present a special birthday breakfast which would kick-start a truly magical day of cupcakes, presents, cards, and attention overdose.

Sleepy.

After discovering and marathoning the entire first season of Arrested Development (THE best show evar) on Hulu (THE best website evar) a couple weeks ago, Hulu (I heart you!!!) now has the entire second season of Arrested Development up for viewing, much to my great excitement, and much to my sleep time’s great detriment.

Cold.

Cold office is cold.. Me thinks it’s time to bring out me box of winter clothes and crank up the office heater.

Haus Tour: Kitchen

And with this, ima have to cut this haus tour short because it turns out to be WAY too hard to draw (exhibit A: failed drawing of kitchen above). I shall leave up to your imagination our dining room, living room, bathrooms and bedrooms. Just take my word for it; they are more awesome than hamsters with already huge food-stuffed cheeks trying to shove more food in anyway:

Yes, more awesome than that.

Haus Tour: Front Door

Happy Monday everyone! Welcome to the illustrated tour of our new haus! Today we start at the front door and will go through each section of the house throughout the week so grab a cuppa tea, sit back, relax, and enjoy! Not pictured here is neighbor left and neighbor right whose homes are stuck at our sides. Also not pictured here is our broken front screen door, which is currently hanging jarringly at an odd angle from its broken top hinge and is pending a visit from the landlord’s handyman.

News!

Hi everyone! J and my project I61studio's official website is now live! I think this website might possibly make us the most awesome design and event planning studio in all of Orange County and all of California and all of the United States but that’s just my humble opinion :P Come visit! http://www.I61studio.com

Happy.

Now that I am well rested and recovered from the move, I am able to roll around the floor in glee out of love love love for our new house!!! And everyone who’s anyone knows the best way to express happies is to roll to and fro on the ground like a crazy person. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!! (Happily rolls to and fro away)