Late-Night Ruminations

Cats are statistically eleven times funnier after 10:00 at night. Trust me, I've done extensive research.

Genetics

In the past year I've become addicted to Mormon fashion blogs. Cute modest clothes sometimes with a little wit or humor thrown in; and, admittedly, some are better than others, but I'm only there for shallow reasons anyway. To look at pretty clothes!! (Not to mention distract myself while at work.) I don't really like things like the Sartorialist or other similar type deals; they just seem so pretentious to me. Fashion for fashion's sake. I want real clothes I would actually wear that are flattering to my body, not my puffed up ego that wants to make a "statement."

Now, tirades aside, my penchant for these blogs has led me to crave different items for closet. Most recently boots. Not just any boots. I want knee-high, brown or tan, leather (not suede), flat or kitten-heeled wedges, narrow-toed boots. Sounds too demanding and specific? I give you exhibit A, B, C, D, and E. (Yes two of those are not Mormon, but you get the point.) I've always had a thing for riding boots. It's probably the British woman in my heart longing for classy, equestrian things.

Why, if my desire is so strong, do I not yet have a pair of these amazing boots? You ask such pertinent questions. No, it's not because I'm a total cheapskate and won't bring myself to buy them. No, it isn't because I haven't been to two DSWs and four Rosses in search for them. It's because of one reason. Genetics.

The two people that supposedly love me most in the world, who would do anything for me, who have purportedly sacrificed all kinds of things for my well-being, have cursed me. They gave me freaking fat calves!! Not cankles mind you. Fat calves. There's a world of difference and I can tell you all about it. They have made the hunt for a perfect pair of size 7 1/2 boots to increase my style options seemingly futile. And all they can do is laugh about it. What pirates.

The culprits. Plus a cute little girl to soften the blow.

Consequential Enlightenments

In the clamor of all the demands for me to continue blogging and not fall into the cliche routine of starting a blog, writing about starting a blog, not writing in blog, writing about not writing in said blog, and then deleting said blog, I would like to welcome you to Suzanna's life lessons.

1- How to spot a scammer on Craigslist.
When inquiring about the availability of their unbelievably open $590 a month, 1000 square foot, one bed, one bath apartment in East Palo Alto they tell you they are out of the country and say something along the lines of "i really understand you but everything is trust all man are not the same". Also, when their name is Harry Lamp.

2-When to simply be grateful your boss is as awkward as you.
When you tell him your great-aunt was just killed in a hit-and-run and he uses that as a segue to tell you a story about an old lady who was killed when a kid up in San Francisco was riding his skateboard down a hill and hit her; and she died. When you are filling up your water bottle at 9 o'clock in the morning and his first real sentence to you is about how you're not supposed to reuse the water bottles like that because they gather bacteria; and he chuckles while saying it.

3-How to recognize that sometimes older siblings do not make the best of wing-men.
When they tell the person you have expressed interest in that they want to know how old they are in your behalf. And then relate the story of how said person deliberately said you were "too young" and not realize they broke the wing-man code. When they offer to "put in a good word for you" in front of a person of interest or to person of interest while you are present.

4-Why working in publishing is not going to land you a date any time soon.
Because both the men and women enjoy this picture way too much.