Mornings Suck

Some people say being sick sucks, or that being sick is one of the most horrible times in their life. They hate it, they can't stand it, etc... You get the idea.

I see it as fodder for my writing. 

For example. I had no idea what I was going to write this blog on an hour ago. Then whilst talking to my sister about various Shakespearean ideas it hit me. I can write about the fact that I was a whining idiot for five days. Well, maybe not whining, but I didn't move from my bed for two whole days. 

I lived off of tea, soup, and Miyazaki movies. He is an artist that Miyazaki. When I get sick, my comfort is in the international. I either end up watching Dr. Who episodes or my Japanese movies. Then my cat joins in by climbing underneath my covers and taking a nap with me. I usually end up awakening to cat fur in my face and kitty snores. 

Yes she snores. Don't judge her, it's actually very cute.

What I love is the fact that when I'm sick, I act just like I normally do most mornings. I stumble out of bed, wobble towards the kitchen where I throw some water or juice in my stomach before I pass out from low blood pressure. Then I proceed to sit for a good fifteen minutes to actually wake up. It's also not unusual for me to wake up with a stuffy nose that recedes within a half hour or so. When my stuffy nose doesn't go away after an hour, that's when I know I'm getting sick.

Among other signs. But we will not get into those.

So yeah, I am not a movable object in the mornings. Which is why if my mother needs me to get up in the early morning for whatever reason, she always makes sure to give me a good ten minutes to wake up before rushing me out the door. There is a good reason for this and it's a damn good one.

My sister was home from college for some reason or another (I think spring break...) and she was making brownies for my mother. My mother needed the brownies relatively quickly if I'm remembering correctly and she had told Katie that I should be sent to get eggs in the morning as we had run out. So being the obedient daughter that my sister is, she woke me up and sent me out the door. The conversation went like this:

Katie: "Suz, get up. I'm making momma's brownies and I need you to go to the store to get eggs."

Me: * unintelligible mumble*

Katie: "SUZIE. WAKE UP."

Me: "Whaa.....hmm?"

Katie: "You need to get eggs!"

My sister is a loving person and definitely not a slave driver. But that morning I was rushed out the door before I realized what happened. At the grocery store I had my keys and money in hand while shuffling towards the eggs. Apparently, I looked out of sorts in my pajama pants with unruly hair splayed all over the place and an employee decided to check on me. That conversation went like this:

Lady: "Hi there, can I help you find anything?"

Me: "S'fine, going," mumble mumble "eggs."

Lady: "I'm ....sorry?"

Me: "Eggs. Need them...jhust going tha way."

Lady: "You sure...you don't need any...help?"

Me: "Nope! Getting eggs. Good ta go."

I sounded like a drunk person trying to find their fix. I was wearing pj's with a light jacket, sneakers, my hair was unkempt and I was shuffling around like I forgot how to walk. It was no wonder that I was followed all the way out the door. I paid, shuffled out the door and got in my car. Upon reaching the house I ambled into the kitchen and dropped off my package with a simple "Got the eggs....going back to bed..."

When I awoke an hour later I walked determinedly into the kitchen with "Never do that again." My sister, utterly bewildered, asked what I meant. I replied that I didn't remember driving to or from the grocery store and that freaked me out. 

"Next time," I told her, "Give me a few minutes to process!"

Apparently if not given the proper amount of time for my body to wake up, I will have pieces of my memory disappear. Trippy. So that's why I'm always given plenty of time to move in the mornings. Being sick for me is kind of like having a constant morning. Of course when reminding my sister of this event, she could barely remember it. 

Le sigh. That's what you get for artistic fodder. No one remembers it but you.

Going to the Chapel and We're, Gonna Get Married.....

I love weddings! Love, love, love them. Especially when I am involved.

My dear friend Ashley, on Saturday, will no longer be a single woman. Well, legally, since she's been dating this guy for I think three years now. She is one of my oldest friends, and the only one that I've stayed friends with since elementary school. A little scatterbrained at times, but then, so am I.

This is my second time in the role of a bridesmaid. The first time was with my friend Kelly who now has an adorable baby that I'm addicted to. Seriously, every time she comes over to my house, I'm all "BABY!" Considering I have no need for a baby at this point in my life, I figure I'll live vicariously through her for the time being. When Kelly got married, it was stressful, but not in a crazy bad way. Just oh my goodness, I have a LOT to do! So when Ashley informed me of her pending nuptials I thought, oh boy. Here we go.

Yeah, this time 'round it hasn't gotten crazy yet. Then again I'm not having to calm Ashley down about a lot of the tiny details. I figure as we get closer to the actual wedding I and Laura (my other friend who is a bridesmaid) will be in charge of calming her down just due to normal wedding stress. Which considering the date is tomorrow, will be happening relatively quickly.

Wedding stress. It doesn't just hit the brides. Not that I've had a lot to do or that Ashley's been a bridezilla (far from it actually). Just that it's the final few days before the big day and I'm in school. I have homework and papers. I need to focus on what's important but with my duties I have these moments of "So what's more important right now?" Wednesday night for example, Laura and I went to Ashley's to tie ribbons onto cutlery, and as a result of that, I barely read what I was supposed to have read for class yesterday.

Ooops.

To make matters worse, my aunt came over the morning after, so I couldn't even read before class. I hate not having homework done, especially when all I have to do is read this semester. Then I'm sitting in class dreading the moment when the professor will go "Suzie, what did you think about (insert random topic here.)?"

Somehow, saying you're a bridesmaid in a wedding for a best friend just doesn't seem to cut it. No matter how true it is.

So I get to decorate the reception hall, then go through the rehearsal and finally head to dinner. Then the impromptu bachelorette party followed by furious pre-wedding preparations. Like my hair. Oh my gosh, my hair is going to be EPIC.

Had to brag a little.

Yes, the bride is the main show, and she will shine far prettier than me (literally, her dress is blinged out man), but my hair is awesome naturally. So I can't really help it. But the day of will consist of hair being curled, bags being packed, make-up being applied, and dresses being thrown on.

The only downside, I've discovered, to being a bridesmaid is that during the wedding itself you actually have to pay attention. Oh, and you can't sit. Not sitting for almost an hour is no good for a girl in heels.

But as far as the rest of the night goes, there will be plenty of fun with dancing, food, and drinks. Last time I was not yet twenty-one, so this time around will be interesting. Once all is said and done though, Ashley will be gorgeous and her fiance is going to be blown away by the gorgeous-ness and I'm probably going to tear up at some point.

Must remember extra make-up supplies.

Natural Disasters and Medication

I haven't left my house since Monday. I didn't need to leave since Snowpocalypse 2011 is upon us. Or Snowmageddon. Or Snoblivion.

Whichever strikes your fancy. I personally enjoy Snowmageddon. :D

As it is, I've come to a decision. I love where I live and I have good reasons for it. Yes, I have to deal with massive amounts of snow in the winter (though not as much as some of the more northern states I assume) and crazy humidity in the summer (though I love heat, so who cares?). So as long as you drive like a sane person and realize that yes, the snow will leave, you'll be fine.

I mean, the Midwest is just awesome. Where else can you go outside when it's 33 degrees and say "Wow, it's warm today."

Living where I do I don't have to deal with hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, or random tidal waves. Of course I do realize that earthquakes can happen near me (and have in fact) or that tornadoes could still hit. But they are not a REGULAR occurrence. Point made! 

Seriously, if you watch History Channel at all you know that a massive Tsunami could hit the east coast of the USA or that massive earthquakes in California could totally bring down all of LA. Nope I'll take the part of the Midwest where you are less likely to die thank you very much.

Plus I'm like an hour away from Chi-town. Awww yeah. 

So why am I pondering how great it is to be a Midwesterner? Mostly because I am bored and have nothing to do. This is due to the SNOW. ALL the FREAKIN' snow. Being stuck in your house for three days will make you ponder interesting things.

Plus I might be a little crazy from medication. I had a cold start up on Monday and it got worse Tuesday. So when I was informed that there would be no school for the next two days I was really happy. Not only could I recover, but I wouldn't have to miss class because of it!

Also, I'd rather have this hit now than next week. I'm in a wedding next week, fate would not be kind if I had this next week.

So I'm high on meds and trying to sleep and this is the result of that.