High-Ay-Tuss

Not sure if y'all remember me... 

But my name is Nicole and I'm an aspiring writer and my life is in shambles most of the time. Which often makes for good reading but because of the shambles, I tend to focus my energy towards more important things, like surviving life. Hence, this whole blog thing being neglected.

Guilty as charged, I feel it necessary to fill you in on my life as of recent...

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........ Hmmm, well... not much to report, actually. Apparently I'm just lazy. Let's see...

• Thanksgiving came and went. And made me fatter. Christmas also came and went. And made me fatter... but richer... with presents... so I didn't hold as much resentment towards it as I did with Thanksgiving.

• I decided to stop tanning. For about 4 good (or bad, depending on who you're speaking with) years of my life, I looked like this...

Yes, this picture is from Halloween 2 years ago. I was the best damn Snooki this side of Albuquerque, ask anyone.  Sadly, I really didn't have to bronze myself up very much in order to achieve this wonderful shade of Oompa Loompa. As much as I've enjoyed resembling a pumpkin for the majority of my adult life, I decided I didn't want to look like a shriveled up and over cooked 60 year old by age 30. So, here's a photo I took of myself yesterday. I've been tanning-bed-free for about 3 months now, and in my opinion I look healthier, illuminant, and not to mention much more lively...

What do you guys think? I hear pale is the new tan.

What else?

• Oh, I've realized that I'm at the point in life where people my age (myself included) truly believe we want our (I'll use the word "mate" for lack of better terminology...) "mate" to possess certain characteristics, however, we're all really living in a fantasy land, and subliminally want someone who is the polar opposite of what we think we want. Keeping up? No? Good.

Like I said, I'm actually a culprit of this disgusting and perturbing mind ailment. I blame libido.

Here's my (and many others) dilemma...

I tell myself, and actually preach to my peers, that I want to end up with a down-home country boy, who opens doors for women, uses words like please and thank you in every conversation, knows how to repair houses and cars and everything for that matter, and says his prayers, thanking God for his life every night before he lays down in bed.

Keeping all that in mind, please examine an example of the specimen that instinctually makes me double take, giggle, and blush due to the PG-13 thoughts that automatically come to mind while I'm in his hypothetical presence...

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and bet 20 bucks that he doesn't say please and thank you too often. 

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• I recently learned that "SMH" doesn't mean someone is making the noise that those letters would make...  as in "Oh, smhhhhhhh, be quiet!" but it stands for "Shaking My Head" ... 

Now that I know it's proper usage in pop culture, I've found myself doing quite a bit of "SMH" lately... and it's all because of these damn random realizations about life. It's a vicious cycle, I tell you.

Alright, I promise I will get better at this. I might be 78 when that happens, but it WILL happen... you have my word.