Lori Sizemore

I just took this quiz on the five love languages.  Apparently, my love language is acts of service.

Can vacuuming the floors really be an expression of love? Absolutely! Anything you do to ease the burden of responsibilities weighing on an “Acts of Service” person will speak volumes. The words he or she most want to hear: “Let me do that for you.” Laziness, broken commitments, and making more work for them tell speakers of this language their feelings don’t matter.

Which makes me sounds like a lazy, self-entitled queen.  Or it does to me.  But, it’s kind of true, I suppose.  Don’t tell me you love me, show me.  Give me a foot rub (or a pedi, as one commenter recommended), fix me dinner, wash my car.  It’s not that I’m lazy, really; the beauty of acts of service is that I work, I write, I have three kids, and a house to run–take something off my plate and I feel adored.

But enough about me.  You should totally go take the test and see what your language is.  I’d appreciate the act of posting yours in the comments. ;-)

I love looking at what search terms led people to my site–mostly because it’s so messed up. For your consideration, I offer the following:

“zombies will never happen,” “zombie love,” zombie love story,” and “scientific zombie study.”  I tell you, I have become the queen of zombies.  And I write contemporary romance–not paranormal.  There are no freaking zombies in my manuscripts (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

I also got “people flirt.” Well, yeah.  They do.  But what’s this got to do with me?

Someone else searched “laurie sizemore aadom.”  Which is not me.  But, at first, I thought was cool, because I thought, “Double A Dom?” But no.  It’s American Association of Dental Office Managers. Boring.

Finally, and perhaps worst/best of all: “lori sizemore nude.”  That’s not ever gonna happen.  But you can see Lori, the zombie!

Photo from morguefiles.com

I’ve got this weird idea, maybe more of a subscribed belief: painted toenails equate to a flourishing, happy, carefree life.  I realize it’s not really rational.  How do you rationalize something so trivial as an indicator of something so crucial?

You could look at Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, perhaps, and assume that all those lower needs (like food, shelter, safety, etc.) had been met if you have the interest to pretty up your tootsies.  But, those things, those are basic needs–not exactly a carefree existence.  So where does this crazy belief come from?

This is where I would insert my awesome answer.  If I had one.  I don’t.

But wouldn’t it be easy to make myself happy by just giving myself a decent pedicure?  Well, no.  Painted toenails don’t give me that good life; they just signify it.  My toenails are a bright red as I write this–but I still have food to put on the table, a house payment to make, and a book that really needs publishing.

So, I guess, what it really means is that I can give myself a tiny bit of joy just by spending ten minutes with a bottle of polish (of which I have oodles).  And right now, that’s enough.  But it makes me curious… what small gifts do you give yourself?