Jachin is home sick today. He has a cold/sunburn combo compliments of Friday’s family skiing adventure. But we wore green anyway… and stayed inside today, organizing and cleaning, iPod playing peppy music throughout the house. He worked a little on his new animation program. I helped him with his first video blog. It’s up over at Jachin’s blog… go take a look-see. And now that he knows how to take video of himself and upload it, well… there’s no telling what family footage could turn up on YouTube. (But our chances of running for government office may have just gone out the window.)

And now, giving in to the odd, anal-retentive organization sensation that has struck me today, I’m off to organize the books in the playroom by reading level…

…what?

It’s a party around here. Here in our house we celebrate Suz’s “Semi-Annual Ugly Days”. (Those of you who know me in real life know exactly what I’m talking about.) Twice a year (early spring and early fall) my body goes through some sort of horrific flux. I don’t know if it’s climate, allergies, hormones, or a combination of all, but my whole self turns all decrepit and yucky looking. My face and scalp are plagued by seborrheic dermatitis, which makes the skin both scaly/dry and oily at the same time. It’s impossible to cover it with makeup, and it frickin hurts. I get red rashes in the corners of my eyes. My scalp itches and bleeds. Plus, I break out. Big time. Zits spread out like mountain ranges across my jaw line and chin. It’s even more fantastic than it sounds…

This year, to accompany the usual array of maladies for my Semi-Annual Ugly Days, I was also hit with the cold sore from hell. It set up residence in the corner of my bottom lip and slowly took over like it owned the joint. Jon looked at me this morning and said, “Did you have Botox injections in your lips?” I said, “It’s not Botox, it’s collagen… and no. It’s the frickin cold sore.” I have what looks like the “trout pout” that celebrities get when collagen goes horribly wrong. Today, I stood in front of 30 kids, teaching them about Easter, and watched two-thirds of them staring at my lip while I talked. (The other third were staring at the scales, rashes, and zits.) The celebration really seems to be stretching itself out this time around. What usually only lasts a week or two is stretching into three… and there is no end in sight.

I’m planning ahead for this fall. My idea is to expand the festivities for the “Semi-Annual Ugly Days” to include pony rides, funnel cakes, and possibly a 5k. Also, there may be t-shirts and a live band doing 80’s rock covers. Tickets will go on sale starting in early September. Buy early, they go quickly!

(no pictures on flickr, for obvious reasons.)

In the hopes of hurrying the warm weather our way, I’ve been browsing online for new swimsuits. Every site I’ve been on has showcased the same disgusting new swim trend:

The “Monokini”. 

No, I didn’t just make that up. That’s what it’s called. The Monokini is what happens when you take an otherwise standard one-piece swimsuit, fold it up a few times, and then hand scissors to a small child, instructing them to fashion the swimsuit into a snowflake pattern.  Voila…

… The Monokini. This is Target’s horizontal stripe version. Horizontal stripes aren’t for you? No worries, they also have it in slimming plaid:

Now you’re thinking (or hoping) that this is just an isolated case of Target making really gross fashion choices… but no. Here’s what Victoria’s Secret had to offer:

Yeah, you saw it. Zebra.  A little too rumble in the jungle for ya? They also have something in all black. But what it lacks in grotesque pattern, it more than makes up for in grotesque cut:

The winning swimsuit, though, comes to us from Venus Swimwear:

…because at least it’s green. If I’m resigned to wear something that actually showcases my love handles, it should at least come in my favorite color. Green brings out my eyes. And when I wear this, I want people looking nowhere else but the eyes. And here I was really hoping that tankinis and capris could somehow stay in style forever…

Zoe loves to make drawings for people. She is constantly handing me her homemade cards and pictures and paintings. They almost always have “To: Mom, From: Zoe” written somewhere on them. Here is one she gave me the other day. It’s of the Mystery Inc. Gang.

It’s a good likeness, right? I mean, right down to Velma’s sweet orange knee highs. There are several things about this picture that I love:

1) Daphne is more “apple” shaped than Velma, which is refreshing. Velma was always getting the shaft, being the “brainy” one instead of the “hot” one. Velma’s even showing a little more leg than usual in this picture. You go, girl.

2) There is no denying the “stoned” look in Shaggy’s eyes… I mean, they actually look like groovy disco balls. After thirty-five years, there is no longer any question about why he always had the munchies. And it even looks like after several decades of this sort of bodily abuse, his metabolism is finally slowing down. I see an intervention in his future, and it may involve Dr. Drew.

3) Scooby looks surprisingly happy and excited about the current creepy mystery, instead of looking like a frightened pansy. And there aren’t even any Scooby-Snacks in sight! Way to grow a pair, Scoob.

4) Fred looks kind of tiny and wimpy, without a trace of barrel-chested manliness. In fact, it looks like Daphne could crush him with one large, puffy, orange hand. Maybe Daphne can save Fred this time around, because — honestly — I was really getting sick of his know-it-all, macho crap.

It’s the children of today who will continue fixing the crap we poorly threw together yesterday. Constantly making things better. And I’ll continue blogging it for posterity.

Take the Quiz here!

Yesterday I got an email from my BFF, Diana, telling me that it was “$2 Tuesday” up at Classic Skating. So yesterday afternoon the kids and I headed up to Salt Lake to do some roller skating with our sweet friends. Having hung out at “StarLand” skating rink in Hagerstown, MD. for years as a kid, I was excited to show my kids my mad skillz on skates. Little did I know that roller skating is NOT like riding a bicycle, in that if you forget how to skate, the knowledge doesn’t necessarily come flooding back just because you lace on a pair of skates 20 years later. I laced ‘em up, stood up, and almost took out the picnic table (which, thankfully, turned out to be bolted to the floor) and the Skee Ball machine (which, thankfully, turned out to weigh just a tad more than my flailing body).

I rented the kids some fluorescent skates at the rental counter. Zoe got a nice pair of flame orange skates and practiced going around in circles on the carpet. She did pretty alright, and looked super cute trying.

Jachin took one look at his four-wheeled nerdy skates and said, “What. Are. These?”

“What?” I asked. “They’re skates.”

“I am not wearing these things. I want roller blades… like Byron has.”

“Well, Byron has skated on roller blades before. You’ve never skated.”

“Mom, come on. I can do it.”

“Whatever…”

I checked my wallet for our current health insurance card (just in case…) and swapped the skates. He put on the roller blades and took off, never looking back. And while he did fall several times, he got back up immediately and kept on keepin’ on. He was a maniac… (reminiscent of him on skis last week…) After an hour or so, he discovered that there was a ramp on the skate track on the other side of the building.

“Mom,” he said, “there’s a ramp over there. I’m going to go jump it.”

“Huh? Whaaa…?” I put the phone number from the insurance card into the speed dial on my cell phone, and then booked it over to the ramp with my camera in hand… to film either his first sweet jump, or his first broken bone. Either way, it was worth capturing.

His first try was okay, but he was lacking speed. He got half way up the ramp and then started rolling backwards back down the ramp… He decided to try it again, with a little more speed:

No broken bones, no drama. Just a kid who will try just about anything. And he doesn’t give up easily when it’s something that he really wants. There are a lot of “$2 Tuesday”s left in the year. He’ll get it sooner or later.

Now roller blades are on his birthday wish list, along with the usual list of video games. I kept the insurance number on speed dial, just in case. But honestly it’s more for me than the kids. Because the kids aren’t the ones who almost took out half of the tables and arcade games while just trying to stand up…

Recently I’ve started writing my tell-all memoir about my childhood and teen years. Yes, seriously. Because it is a funny, sad, but mostly just rather weird story. I think a handful of people would read it. (And I mean a small handful, like, Zoe’s hand. Not a large hand.)

For some reason, whenever I’ve told different members of my family that I’ve started writing a memoir, they’ve all said, “Oh, no…”, like it will be a book mainly about them and how they are total jerks to me. Like I will recall every time I was slighted, or spanked, or had my hair pulled unjustly, or was forced to wear the bright blue, hideous, and incredibly painful orthodontic head gear. (Okay, the head gear may get a small blurb…) In truth, though, the main person to be embarrassed by the whole thing is me. Which is why I completely intend to write it under a fake name. I’ve decided that although it is a great story in need of telling (and this is all assuming it ever gets published), I don’t need everyone in my neighborhood, or every person in my acquaintance to know the sad, nasty undercurrent of every embarrassing (yet interesting) part of my life.

I have decided that, in addition to changing my name, I will also change the names of the people in my life… to protect the identities of the innocent and the crud-ball alike. So if you are reading this, and you knew me as a kid or young adult, and you are fearful of being fingered as the person who once made me cry because you threw dog poop at me or some other such nonsense, this is your chance to go into hiding. Ever wanted to change your name anyway? This is your shot. I’m taking “Moniker Requests”. You can choose the name for yourself in my tell-all memoir.   It can be your middle name, or your stripper name, or your dog’s name… Whatever.

(Many of you, sweet readers, didn’t know me before this blog came to fruition, and therefor you will probably not be included in this particular book. You should really be thanking your lucky stars that our paths never crossed before the internet came about. But you can tell me what you’d change your name to, anyway.)

The 5k is finished, and yes, I finished it! And in a respectable time, for my first race. Not any record-breaking, medal-winning time, mind you. But respectable: 33:16

I discovered that (for me) the trick to running faster is to run with someone beside you; someone who will shame you into running faster and longer. I ran beside my sister-in-law, Kim. And while my training had consisted of alternating between one minute of running and one minute of walking, Kim just runs. And although this was also her first 5k, well, the girl runs better and longer than me. So there I was, running beside her, thinking man, I don’t want to be the one to stop and walk first… But of course I was the one who stopped and walked first, but not before running the longest stretch of my life. I found out that trying to keep up with a pack makes me faster and better. I finished a good 10 minutes ahead of what I was afraid I’d finish.

Jon (who finished in 20 minutes and a few odd seconds, and placed 11th overall) crossed the finish line, got his bottle of water, and then ran back to find me… with camera in hand. I tried to smile and act like it wasn’t such a big deal, that my legs weren’t just moving back and forth of their own accord… but, well, they were. I was pretty tired. But he clicked some pictures of me running my first race. (So there are some really unattractive, sweaty pics of me up on flickr, if you really want to look.  I discovered during this, my first race, that I am a very unattractive person when working out.)

I may be hooked on this whole 5k thing. I loved the whole goodie bag perk with the race tshirt, which I can now wear around like I am a totally serious runner person.  I loved the free breakfast afterward, with the orange slices and raffle prizes. It’s a really fun atmosphere. And though I will never in a million years “place”, staying in decent enough shape to run three miles every few weekends seems like a good thing to me.  There are supposed to be official pics of the race posted here in the near future. I know there is at least one of me and Jon warming up, pre-race (before it got really ugly).

I think it’s important to note here that my hubby was robbed. Somehow, they did not get his age entered in properly, so he wasn’t included in his age bracket results. He should have placed 2nd in the 25-34 Men’s group… but he will have to go to the grave without his just prize! (I think the prize for second place was Jazz tickets, and he has season tickets anyway… but still. I felt bad that he didn’t get the recognition.)  Complete race results are here.  You will have to scroll faaaaaar down to find me… and you probably have better things to do with your time.

Thanks to all of those who wished me happy birthday wishes. It was a good day. And I didn’t die, so sorry… none of you can have any of my stuff yet. (Sorry Kate, I’m keeping my bike for now… and I even got a new basket for it for my birthday!)

Tomorrow, my 32nd birthday, may in fact be my last day alive upon this Earth.

For tomorrow morning I am running my first 5k.

And I haven’t really trained so much, except that I try to flex my abs while doing normal daily tasks (like drinking a glass of milk, or doing laundry)… to try to maintain some core strength.

And I tend to be sort of all-around lazy… like even when I write I use a lot of ellipses to show that I’m too lazy to finish a thought…

Plus, also,  been known to hit what runners call “the wall” while covering the distance between my bedroom and the garage door. And my house isn’t even all that big…

So good bye, friends.  I have already bequeathed my Star Trek Movie collection to my bff Diana, in the event that it seriously only takes 3.1 miles for me to kick the bucket. The rest of you can fight over my stuff by sending lots of inquiries and requests to Jon. He’ll like that. He’ll appreciate the correspondence in my absence. If you could make your letters really sarcastic and obnoxious — which is how I would write a letter — he’d probably really like that, too.

hugs and kisses,

Suz

xoxoxoxo

ps- In the event that I don’t die, I’ll post tomorrow with pics and maps and all sorts of fun stuff. Maybe. Or maybe not… cuz it IS my birthday, after all, and hopefully I’ll be out doing something fun. And being not dead.