A Brush with Danger

So today was Thanksgiving. I woke up and went over to Johns to start making rolls and jello and some other stuff I was supposed to bring to our family thanksgiving at my brothers. I decided to shower later on at Johns so that I could start on the food I had to make. That was my first mistake. So I make the rolls and then go to take a shower while they rise, before putting them in the oven. After getting out of the shower and dressed I realize that I forgot a brush. So I go to John's bathroom to see if he has one. All he has is one of those hard bristled skinny round brushes from like 1985. I hestitated, but I was in a bind and in a hurry so I pick up the brush and begin to quickly start brushing my messed up toweled dry hair. I started with the front, combing it forward to make sure my bangs got brushed through first. Then all of a sudden I can't move the brush or get it out of my hair. I HONESTLY have NO IDEA how this happened. Perhaps a sudden wrong twist of my wrist or something, or on the up stroke my hair was still in the brush so it just wrapped around those old little plastic bristles. So I pull on it and then twist it one way, then the other, to try to see just HOW my hair is still caught in this brush. But every movement seems to tighten the brush more securely to the base of my scalp. By this time I begin to panic. I have a wedding 3 weeks away and all I can imagine is having to cut this dang brush out of my head leaving a huge bald patch on the top of my head. So naturally the tears are flowing down my cheeks and I am running down stairs, all the while trying to pull the brush out of my hair, which might as well be glued to the front of my head at this point. I wake John out of his Turkey Day nap on the couch with my exasperated pounding down the stairs, and whinning cry. He calmly asks me what's wrong and what's happened and hugs me and tells me its going to be okay. So we go upstairs so he can try to get it out.

After forty minutes and one break down in the middle, where I exclaimed amid a mass of sobs "We're both going to have a bald spot at the wedding!" and a few other fits of rage John has pulled all the bristles out of the brush with his pliars, and I've soaked my hair in a bowl of water to loosen the brush. I was finally free with a mangled mess of hair resembling a small birds nest on the front of my head. So I re-wahsed my hair, pulling a couple of hand fulls out and half an hour later we're off to Thanksgiving dinner.

The moral of this story is do not ever, and I mean EVER use a hard little round brush that is only meant for guys. Guys who don't have that much hair in fact. Especially on Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for John that he took the time to get it out, while salvaging most of my hair, albeit at the expense of cutting off and tearing out the bristles from the brush he's literally had since junior high. Better it than me.

What a good boy

So get this. John actually went and got a mystic tan, for all the crap he gave me and how grouchy he was he just went and did it. Gosh, I just really love that guy. But he didn't know you couldn't shower for six hours after, so he went to work smelling like tanning stuff and his toe nails are all gross looking because he didn't put on any barrier cream. Hilarious. Poor guy. Put he definitely rocks the Mystic Tan. I mean he looks good. I mean really good. I wanna be friends with him. Or maybe more?

Diet Coke Crackheads, Runaway Nagging Trains and the Morning Grouch

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy! Planning a wedding is so stressful! I wish we could just elope. Like this morning, I realized that the day we're taking our engagement pictures will NOT be a good day for me, if you know what I mean. As much as I would love to be covered in zits and looking like a bloated cow, just like every other time we've taken important pictures it might be better if we moved them up. (The time we went to my house and to San Francisco, when John proposed, and now...our engagement pictures...which are not cheap.) So excuse me for freaking out a little bit and wanting to change it to this wednesday instead of next. But that throws a wrench in all my other plans because my mom is arriving that day and we had the day all planned to look at dresses and pick invitations. So I call John this morning from work, in a panic (probably because I had just drank way to much diet coke, so I'm talking as fast as a crackhead after their morning fix) and ask him if he can quickly go get a haircut and a spray on tan this morning before he goes to work at one. (I don't care what he looks like...I love him and it doesn't matter, however I do know him well enough to know that when I am tan and my teeth are white and he looks like Powder standing next to me in the pictures he will hate them. ) So in reality I'm looking out for his better interests. I think he'll look great no matter what, but he is a slightly harsher critic, anyways...I digress. So John's not really a morning person...and I can tell I'm seriously throwing a wrench in his morning of lounging around watching TV as he wakes up before he goes to work at one. And I can hear my voice and the way I'm talking, but I just can't stop. I felt like a runaway train full of anxiety and nagging. (Which normally isn't me). "Okay did you put the wash in the dryer yet? I don't want it to smell like mildew...How are the dogs?...So can you go get Mystic tan and a haircut?" By which I get the annoyed, raspy, "just woken up voice" reply of..."What's a mystic tan? How long does that take? I'll get my haircut on Wednesday morning, cause I have to go to Terri, I won't go to sucky Supercuts!" And I reply in an equally annoyed tone, "a mystic tan is a spray on tan...but professional! It takes like five seconds, gosh!" But then I feel so bad for bugging him, so I'm like "I'm sorry just do whatever you want"...and continually in the crackhead voice..."Are you mad? Don't be mad..you're annoyed aren't you...okay well I'll let you go." To which I know John's like "hallelujah you psycho..." But he just replies..I'm not mad, why would I be. okay talk to you later...So we get off the phone, but I just feel like a loser who just bugged the crap out of her fiance for no apparent reason. But I guess that's what diet coke can do to you in the morning hours. And what a wedding to plan can do. And I am still so mad about the pictures, but I can't call them till tomorrow because they're closed on Mondays. And on top of it I think i'm getting sick. So I guess we'll just have to leave the pictures where there are. Anyways the moral of this story is...don't call your fiance and bug them unless it is absolutely necessary. In my defense I thought it was. But I was wrong. Cause nothing is important enough to talk to John about while he's still waking up. Especially by a wedding crazed lunatic like myself. Trust me. It's a recipe for annoyance on both sides. But really who can blame the guy, I ambushed him. I just wish I hadn't cause I love him and I don't want to annoy him, ever. But that's pretty unrealistic.

Princess Maya

So John bought me a dog. Her name is Maya. She's a dog we got from this family who's child was allergic. The sad thing is that the family loves this dog, which they should because she's really sweet and smart and cute. So they don't want to give her up but evertime their kid gets near it they practically have to take her to the emergency room. So we went to look at her last week. And we took Frank, John's dog, with us to see if they would get along before we decided anything. So we go to the Woodman's house and Frank and Maya are just playing and running around the yard, getting along great. So we decide we're going to go talk about it and we'll get back to them. We say our goodbyes and leave and as we are walking away from the house, towards my brother's house which is three houses down, John says, "Well do you like her?" And of course my reply is "Ya I love her!" To which he says, "But do you want her?" And I'm like well ya! So John is like "Ok," and turns around to go tell them right then. So we tell them and John gets his check book while they get her stuff together. So then we get back to the house and of course the mom totally starts crying and hugging the dog and then the little kids start crying and stuff. And she's apologizing and then big surprise, John starts tearing up. And all the while I'm getting increasingly uncomfortable. (I'm not a cryer, atleast not a sympathy cryer. I cry when it makes sense for my life.) Ok...so they're all blubbering and I'm like "Well we should probably get going." In the nicest most sympathetic tone possible but inside my body was screaming ahhhh, awkward get me out of here. We're taking this poor family's dream dog from them, let's not draw it out anymore than we have to. So I'm trying to act like it's cute that everyone is crying because I really don't know what else to do with myself. So what seems like an eternity later, we are walking out the door with my new cuddly present. Merry Christmas to me! And since the dogs get along really well. They like to play quite a bit and sometimes get a little worked up but it's great because it tires them out.

I GOT ENGAGED!!!!

Well...it's happened folks. A Neumarker girl is getting married. And it is magical. So John and I went to Disneyland yesterday. We're here in So Cal visiting John's parents. So when we got to the park I told John, "Hey let's go take a picture in front of the castle." You have to have a picture of that. And he's like "No no, we'll do that later." So I didn't really think anything of it but I'm like alright fine. Then later in the day I ask again and he keeps putting me off, and then later again and he's like we'll do it at like dusk, better lighting. Ok...so then we eat dinner and then he's like getting all excited about the picture. He's like "You wanna go take the picture now, let's go take the picture in front of the castle." And at that point I'm like whatever I don't care about the picture anymore, but fine let's go I guess. So his parents were with us and John's like oh let's get one of the professional people to take one and I'm like why? Your parents will just take a picture. So his dad is trying to get the camera ready and John will not take his hand out of his pocket, so that was the first moment I knew something was up he kept a lid on it pretty long. I had no freaking clue. And so then in front of the Magic Kingdom John got down on bended knee and started crying (I didn't, I'm not a cryer, ok?) and he said "Will you marry me?" and I said "yes." And then people were clapping and cheering and then we kissed like in a fairy tale. Yep. It was magical...at the Magic Kingdom. And the ring fits perfectly. He surprised me with the whole thing I had no idea he was going to do it then. He had told me the day before that "Maybe...we could go look at rings to try some on," and he couldn't even say rings when he told me that so I figured it would be a while till he got comfortable but it was all part of the ploy to foil me. So ya it worked. The only bad thing is I looked sick cause we went on this rapids ride and my hair got all wet and then I'm like fat so that's not cute either, but oh well high five for love I guess. P.S. Check out the John and Margan link to the right to see more pictures of the magical day.

High Five for Love

I'm happy to say that I'm in love. I mean I just love that guy. I think he's most like his favorite candy...M&Ms. He has a tough outer shell, but just a gooey soft chocolatey inside. And I like it. I just want to shout it from the top of a moun-tain...but I don't have a mountain I have this blog. So the story in Margan's world is Margan loves John. That's from Anchorman, sort of. It's funny cause whenever I think of me and John I always want to say this one line from Anchorman where he says "Veronica and I had sex and now we are in LOOOOOVE!!!!" and it's so funny how he says it...all excited with the love all elongated and he throws his arms out and I can totally relate except for the having sex part. We as mormons believe in waiting until marriage before having sex. But as you can imagine this can be very frustrating especially when you're trying to stay as far from the line as possible. But since I do love him and I really can't express it any other way than saying it...I feel like I'm saying it all the freaking time. Like I love you, hey I love you, bye see ya later, I love you...hey did I tell you I love you? Ya...ok. And he does the same thing. Sometimes I'm like gosh we are so cheesy, I hate myself. But high five for love right? It's an inside joke between us...and that's really the beauty...everyone else is just, well...on the outside.

Bathroom Adventures

So today I go into the bathroom at work where, mind you, only one of the two toilets flushes properly. So I go in and open the handicapped stall (the working one) and this girl is sitting on the pot. For a couple seconds we share that awkward "what is happening right now?" stare, until I realize this stall is occupied, and quickly shut the door saying "I'm so sorry!" To make matters so much better she's in my region, so she sits near me but she's new so I've never seen her before today. And in my sad attempt at making things better I say "I guess we're closer now! Uhh..sorry I didn't see anything." And then instead of waiting for the bathroom I just couldn't take the awkardness and bounce. So I'm back at my desk, still needing to pee...so I wait for about ten more minutes and then I go back to the bathroom. Except I walk in and it smells horrible. The whole bathroom is full of crap smell. I'm talking HOT SICK you know what. So obviously I'm disgusted and can I just say, for me nothing is worse than sitting down in a stall where there's still a hint of poop smell from the previous occupant. Ok, and that said, I wasn't even IN the stall yet. So right as I walk in and smell it I'm like "UHHHHH, yuck!" totally loud and start coughing. (I have a really sensetive gag reflex). Then I pull the door to the stall and it's locked! The person was still in there! I felt kinda bad but not really since once again I had to bag going pee so that I wouldn't start throwing up right on the bathroom floor. So I leave once again and go back to my desk...I told my friend Emilie and we were laughing pretty hard. She's like poor person in there! And I'm like are you kidding? Poor me! So I still had to pee but I couldn't chance going back in there again.

Happy Birthday Jules!!!

Just wanted to give a shout out to my BFFFFFFF Julia Burgonarker!!! Happy Birthday dude! You're the best. Hope it was a great day! Sorry I couldn't be there!

Every Cowboy Sings a Sad Sad Song

So there's a 6 year age difference between me and my boyfriend. And normally, it doesn't get in the way at all. But I got into his car today (I'm driving his BMW because I got in a car accident and my car is being fixed...long story for another time, but he doesn't need his car because his work lets him drive a demo.) and normally I listen to the radio but I was sick of it, so I thought hey, I'll see what's in the CD player. So low and behold I turn on this CD and the song that it's on is "Every Rose Has It's Thorn." I don't even know if that's what it's called but...you all know it...every night has it's dawn/just like every cowboy sings a sad sad song. Anyways that song isn't bad, but as I continue to skim through the songs it just gets worse and worse. The power ballads just keep coming at me with no warning. Until I hit..."Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby!!!! Baby, baby, baby, baby ohhhhh baby! At that moment I lost it and burst out laughing uncontrollably. I had to keep driving around for a little bit just so I could keep listening and try to comtemplate what this CD was. But really there's no comprehending it. I'm thinking to myself how old is he really? And what's with the depressing break up/heart break songs? Obviously left over from his last heartbreak. And then I'm thinking wow he's way more jacked from that than I thought. I guess it was funny because I pictured him all depressing out the window listening to this crap and the mental picture was just hilarious, because these songs would never be my choice for sad music. They're way too cliche. But all I could do was laugh, because if I kept listening to those songs I'd probably start crying. Not from the touching lyrics or powerful guitar solos, but from the fact that it was there at all.

I haven't been writing because I didn't realize people still read this thing. But apparently they do...so I'll try to keep it going folks. I miss all you guys out in PA.

Random question to ponder: When was the last time you cried?

Nordstrom's Mirrors are Just Sub Par

Ok I just went to Nordstroms. And I am mad. What's the deal with dressing rooms where the light is so bad that you leave wanting to kill yourself? And feel like crap for the rest of the day to where you wonder why your boyfriend likes you at all. Or at least stop eating for the rest of your life. Ok, let's face it I'll be happy if I make it till the end of the day. Something about the 360 degree view of my butt in the mirror and every dimple of cellulite being visible (which I didn't think I had until today) just sort of put me off trying to squeeze myself into some new Sevens. Some thoughts that were running through my head: "I didn't realize I look like a man from the back." "These underwear don't fit as well as I thought." "Does my butt normally stick out like a shelf?" I bought plenty of other stuff while trying to pretend that this particular mirror had to be lying to me, because I'd never seen that person before now. Actually come to think of it I did the last time I went to Nordstrom's. It's probably time to get to the gym because having a day job is starting to pack it on. But listen that's beside the point because for how nice Nordy's is supposed to be...it's time to invest in some softer lighting, and possibly some more slimming mirrors. Because they just lost a customer.

College vs. High School

I was just talking to one of my friends from high school about how much fun it was. We're both here at BYU and both agreed that college sucked compared to high school. Like when we got to the dorms it was like...what? There are rules? Boys can only come in my room during a 2 hour window on wednesday nights? And it's called visiting hours? What are we in a hospital? More like an insane asylum with all the weird momos walking to campus with their scriptures and walking around with smiles plastered on their faces the whole time. When I first got to BYU (and I thought I was a pretty happy person) it made me so mad how everywhere you went everyone was just smiling and skipping, chasing butterflies through the quad. It's like wipe that stupid grin off your face. I know you're thinking I'm devoid of the spirit. It's not that, I just don't smile ALL the time. But after a while I got used to it, instead of letting them ruin my day. Some of us need caffeine or some other mood altering drug to smile and giggle for no reason. I was more free in high school than I was through all of college. It's kind of ironic, you're supposed to branch out in college and grow, experience things. My college experience was more stifling than high school. I haven't decided if that was good or bad.

I'm Having Trouble With My TPS Reports...

I think my favorite thing at work now is not having to talk to angry customers who are pissed because their salesman lied. When salesman lie, we have to deal with it. And I hate it. It's great now though, because I just do inventory and I rarely do CSR stuff, only when their busy. But I often feel like office space. I work in my cubicle, and I have stuff to do, but it's so true, so many times, you just stare at your screen and pretend your working. I come in, sit down at my cubicle, check my email, then my work outlook and then get started on stuff for the day, but always somewhere in there is some good staring blankly at the screen time, or I'll click the different tabs on the dish site. If I'm done with updates I'll do them again, or just keep a window up in case someone walks by and wonders if I'm working. I mean I usually am, but there are times that everything is done...and is it my fault that I'm a fast worker? I don't think so. But let's all ponder this question...Can dead end jobs turn even the most industrious and innovative minds into slackers? Interesting...

CSR Adventures

So this lady calls work today and she's a total punk...and she's mad for some reason...but I answer the phone and she's like.."I need to talk to someone, I've been calling and I feel misrepresented and I feel like the people who installed my dish left a BIG mess..." I don't know if I was just really tired or if it was how she said it but it was so funny I had to put her on mute so that she couldn't hear me laughing because I totally got the giggles. Seriously I was laughing so hard...I guess just because she was another white trash sounding caller that didn't even know what she was saying...Seriously, "misrepresented" by whom? Dish? We don't represent you...It's like what the hell are you talking about? What she probably meant was that she felt like her salesman lied to her. Luckily I gave the call to my manager because she wanted to talk to someone "In-charge." Riiiight. I laughed for like ten more minutes after that too.

Texting Sucks

What's up with texting? I'm so sick of it. I long for the days when I actually talked to my friends on the phone.

Born Again...

I should probably explain the very last part of my previous post. We have this joke, sort of ever since high school because all my friends were born again christians, or presbyterian or something to that effect. And since then I've talked with numerous friends that are mormon about how they also had friends like that in high school. And to us Mormons who pray fervently with heads bowed, hands clasped and eyes closed with our very formal language the prayers of any other faith often seem informal and not serious at all, even humorous. So one time with some friends we started talking about this and then started imitating the prayers which are often uttered with open eyes, hands at sides and sound as if they are talking to their dad or some friend rather than a diety. And they often go something a little like this..." hey Lord, what's up we're just here, trying to be cool and play some music and just worship you Lord...so help us to do that okay? Awesome, cause we love ya Lord. Alright...in your name, Amen." And all this being in the most indifferent tone, especially the last part where the in your name Amen sounds more like a split second decision to purchase a soft drink rather than end a prayer with reverence. There are many things I don't understand in the Mormon religion and culture for that matter, but one I do appreciate is our respect and reverence for our Savior. And other religions prayers often seem way to informal for me. I remember going with my friends to some of their activities and being so uncomfortable when the head youth leader would be looking around as he was praying and I only figured this out after my friend tapped me because I was the only one in the room who had my arms folded and head bowed. It was so weird. He just kept looking around, and I didn't know where to look and then we made eye contact. It's like how do you keep your train of thought? And I don't mean this in a condescending way at all. I felt stupid because I had no idea what was going on, since obviously all religions are different. Anyways...So it was in that mock tone that I chose to end my last post, because hey...I'm just trying to be cool here okay? Okay. And remember WWJD.

There are rainbows on every horizon

So...lately it seems everyone is gay. I mean everyone. I have questions about a lot of people's sexuality here in Provo and it seems others are having the same experiences as me. So in light of this...I have a story to share. I just joined Gold's Gym. I have been a member of 24 for 5 years, so that was a hard thing for me to do, but there just isn't a 24 hour close to where I live now. So I happened to join when I went to the gym one night with this guy I just started dating. So after I sign up and stuff and they gave me a pretty good deal...the trainer (who I had a sneaking suspicion was gay) hands me his card. And then John (said guy I am dating who is a financial manager for a volkswagen dealership) hands the trainer his card and says "If you need anything, not that your gay and want a jetta or something." To which the trainer replies..."Well actually I am gay, and I do drive a jetta. Hee-hee." All I could say was, "oh, that's cute." Ridiculous. John felt so bad, but it was soooo funny. I laughed about it later during some free time I had. But the guy was just excited about it and actually wanted to trade in his jetta. So anyways...the moral of the story is...gay people are all around, even in the land Zion. So get used to it, cause they're just trying to be cool and have some fun okay? Okay. In your name, Amen.

I met a boy...and I like him.

Counting Down

So I'm at work..which so far is cake. I just wrote my last college paper and got paid to do it. The phone only rings like every half an hour if that, but then again I'm ony training and the Dish Summer Season hasn't started yet. So it will get busier. But anyhow...I'm moving to my brother's basement this saturday! Rock on! Not BYU approved rip off housing. As I am graduating next thursday I went and got my hair done yesterday. I told her I wanted it more blonde...somehow that translated to "give me hair like Gwen Stefani." I'm sure my mom will have a comment, but in truth I kind of like it. Also I've been trying to exercise to look better for pictures. But since I've been so busy I really haven't been able to. So my new motto is "If you can't lose it, tan it!" So my goal is to become a Christina Aguilera look a like by graduation. And I'm proud to say I'm half-way there. Amazing how being tan can melt away five pounds in minutes! It's obvious I live in the moment. But hey we're all gonna get cancer eventually anyways. I've come to terms with it. It's not a matter of if, but when and which one? My guess is I'll either get skin, ovarian or breast cancer. The only thing I can say is hopefully I'll lose some weight when I have to do chemo and it won't kill me. Well just one more final to tackle, then a picture slide show to create and I'm Audi 5000 from YBU? I mean BYU.

One Way to Graduation

I haven't written in a while because I have been experiencing what I like to call hell week squared. The last two weeks of my college career before finals. And I don't really have finals I have projects. And to make the last two weeks just super fun I got deathly ill and my computer died for good...and took my biochem paper and another large assignment with it. I believe the guy who I paid 65 bucks to, so that nothing could be recovered told me it sounded like a dying remote control car. So I took some time that I already didn't have, to re-write those papers. Luckily it is all almost over. I only have about 3 more things to do that aren't too bad. Present my final project, do a take home final and I have one other final to take. But at this point, I feel kind of like a runner that is finishing a marathon, but at the very end is forced to sprint for 2 miles because someone is chasing him, and then bonks 1 mile before the finish line. I am that runner...dragging myself along the pavement. Even miniscule tasks such as filling out a questionnaire seem like mountains to climb. I've gone comatose. That metaphor would work even better if I was a runner. But I don't even like running. And I've never ran a marathon. I don't even know if I've run a mile. Just kidding. I do need to give a shout out to my sister Pickle who has totally helped me get through by being awesome and sending me all my favorite shows on DVD. I am now caught up completely with LOST!!!! what what! She's the bomb. I love it cause she's not working right now...by choice, cause she's that cool, so she makes me all these cool DVDs and stuff apart from doing her other job which is clean out my old german granparents old crap. I would like to include an excerp from an email she sent me...I was rolling on the floor. Nicole says: "my current job is going through a musty box of half german, half
english papers that opa maintained over the last 20 years of his life.
old brokerage statements that i'm going to have to shred...which is
such a joy. i'm so looking forward to that musty moldy pile of
shreddings, so i can bury my face in them on the way to the garbage
and have an asthmatic attack. then i'll go and cleanse my nasal
passages by pouring salty water through them with my ayurvedic
cleansing pot...and blow the musty snot out into the sink to avoid
said asthmatic attack." The funny thing is that I can totally picture this whole scene playing out but little Nicole, dutifully doing it just like Dad would. Wow...let's hear it for Nicole! Can I get a raise the roof?