Sunday, November 30, 2008

:::foolproof:::

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:::pie. excuse, me, what? oh, pie.:::


does your sister fry sage leaves just to garnish pumpkin soup? yeah, i didn't think so. don't feel bad though, i'm sure your sister is good at other stuff...


this is me eating my thanksgiving pie.

then i ate more pie the next morning, and then more pie when i got home that night. pie.

pie.

pie. pie. pie. pie. pie.

and now it's officially the holiday season.

pie.

Friday, November 28, 2008

:::the why and the why:::

why the new blog?

got sick of the old one.


why the name 'faye for sure'?

because i lack inspiration and i'm terrible at picking handles. i was going through a list of boring possibilities when i thought of faye, a nickname my sisters call me. it's my favorite nickname, for sure. the end.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

:::and much pie to you:::

and two naps.



maybe three.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

:::kick-off:::



tonight hor-hay and i will be eating peachie rings and watching the best holiday movie ever while we decorate for christmas.

{christmas in connecticut}

happy thanksgiving, i miei piccoli tacchini.


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Tuesday, November 25, 2008

:::that's a stupid name for a scale:::

always wear something special on the day that you have a date with this guy...


something special, like your conquistador shirt...


so that even when you find out exactly how fat you really are, you can at least feel like you just discovered the straits of magellan.

yo ho.

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Wednesday, November 19, 2008

:::what happens when you mess with your html:::

if you're seeing formatting mistakes on my blog, please raise your hand.

updated to add: things are going to look different for a short while until i figure out how to fix what i broke. hold on tight.

updated: how about now?

oh, and get this, my nurse practitioner said i shouldn't eat for 24 hours! say, what?! tonight is our thanksgiving dinner!

but back to my blog problems...

:::i don't know how to tell short stories, unless i'm writing a short story:::




last week the Spirit spoke to me repeatedly. "you haven't had stomach problems in a long, long time," He said.

"i know!" i would sing back. "la, la, la! i love life!"

a few hours later He'd say again, "really, it's been a while since you've had stomach problems."

"i know, huh? it's been amazing. THANK YOU! i love life! la, la, la!"

"and you haven't had panic attacks since you left arlington."

"so true. i love my new house, i love my new ward, i love my new friends! la, la, la!"

"and you have a nice job that gives you sick days."

"i know! yeah for benefits! zippity do dah, zippity ay!"

"yes, benefits are good, and even bad insurance is better than nothing.

"that is so true, i mean look at all the people without health insurance. is true health care reform ever going to come? do i believe in government intervention in this respect? i wonder what the libertarians are saying about this..."

"focus, rebekah."

"sorry! benefits rock!"

"and you don't like being sick."

"nope, i surely do not! thanks again! la, la, la!"

"yes, being healthy is a blessing. you're welcome. We love you."

being sick when you're a student is fun. you miss class, you don't have to show up at your mediocre student job, you get to sit at home watching cable, then drive around late at night stalking boys with your bffs, and the student loan checks just keep rollin' in. it's great (unless you have SARS, but i'll save that for another post).

being sick when you're employed full-time in a real job is not fun. you have to miss work. you know that all those tedious tasks that try your soul on a daily basis are just piling up and waiting for your return. you worry that your bosses will think you're faking. you worry that you'll burn through your sick days with some stupid cold only to get hit with, i don't know, SARS, at a later date (it happened once, right?) and be up chocolate creek without a paddle.

last thursday i left work at 1 pm because i was feeling flu-ish and was phlegming (new word) like nobody's business. i came home and slept the rest of the day away (see heidi, i'm enjoying my single time, just like you told me to). friday i popped out of bed feeling as fresh as a daisy and sang and bounced all the way in to work.

saturday i woke up and thought i was going to die. die, i tell you. i couldn't breathe. my head was in an invisible vice. the body aches were back. for days (four days, actually) i suffered. i finally got to the point where i was writing my will (scott gets everything, as always) and making my peace with those i've wronged (except for you, you just need to get over it), but then my humidifier came into my life and i could feel the tides changing.

i said my prayers and sent my thanks to Heaven. repeatedly. throughout the day. vocally and in my heart. a terrible, no good, cold and some body aches, but no upset stomach. i thought about the tithing i had paid the week before and knew i was being blessed for willingly giving up the poor girl's mite.

when i was cutting up my pork chop last night at dinner the Spirit came back and whispered, "you hate upset stomachs."

"ugh, i know!" i said, "and i hate missing a meal, too."

"well, that's true, and I actually need to talk to you about that at some point this week, but for now, just remember that you hate upset stomachs."

"okee dokee. can i eat my pudding now?"

"(sigh) yes, rebekah."

thirty minutes later i was upstairs and feeling like something rumbly was definitely going on in the tummy region. i hoped for the best. i prayed for the best. i told annette that maybe i had over humidified myself. too much humidity, yes, that sounded about right. i buried my head in the sand as far as it would go.

the stomach aches came this morning at 5 am. i spent a good piece of time in the ladies, then in the shower, then in my bed wrything in pain. i called the hobbit and cried, as i always do when i am sick and i call the hobbit. i asked for the hobbit's man, a certified medical practitioner, but he was already on the way to work, no doubt mentally preparing himself to cut neck cancer out of some ailing veteran.

alas, the solitude of his morning drive was interupted when he got a call from a semi-lucid sister-in-law (the unbalanced one, read: me) asking him if humidifiers caused the stomach flu. i'm not sure all that was said, as i mentioned, i was semi-lucid, but i'm pretty sure gentle ben knows for sure now that i'm an i-di-ot.

"because, sniff, sniff, i bought this humidifier, sniff, sob, and i had it turned on all day and all night, sniff, and then i wasn't feeling good, sniff, and mom and me think maybe it made my stomach hurt, sob, sob, and so i turned it off, sniff, sniff, so now i'm thinking maybe it gave me the stomach flu."

my mom and i definitely got the brains in the operation, or maybe just an overproportionate helping of wishful thinking.

according to gentle ben, humidifiers do not cause stomach aches, so the only other reasonable explanation is that i do, in fact have the stomach flu. and this was, in fact, just confirmed to me by my favorite nurse practitioner (over the phone, of course. can't risk walking at this point).

The Spirit has been whispering to me again this moring, "you were healthy for so long..."

"yes, yes, i was. oh, pain! make it stop!"

"you haven't had really bad stomach cramps in months. think about it."

"i know. that was awesome. thank you! oh, OH, mamasita, make it stop!"

"it'll end, it always does."

"very true, and thank you for those pain free months. oh, hannibal lectur, why?!"

and so it goes.

now i'm wondering what my real blessing for paying my tithing will be. i have my standing order for a gentleman suitor in, so we'll see what happens.

oh, and mom, one of the lymph nodes in my armpit is swollen, so we're like buddies now because you don't have any lymph nodes in your armpit, so we both have lymph node problems.



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Tuesday, November 18, 2008

:::you've never treated me as well as my humidifier does:::

walked to cvs today, breathing and hacking into my scarf.

bought this little fella'.



my new best friend.
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:::hey, what ya got there, chestie?:::




my illness has forced me to thieve.
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:::i am the lizard king:::

when you're too sick to get out of bed, you can lay in bed and mess with you camera settings.





groovy, man.
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:::and airborne in the back, and don't forget the vapor rub:::


pick your poison.
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Saturday, November 8, 2008

:::

welcome back.