Monday, January 31, 2011

In case you were wondering...

I hate the crunchy sound your cheek makes when you are chewing gum, and you miss.

It's happened three times today.


I need a bandaid, for the inside of my mouth.

Have those been invented yet...?

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Saving Money Is Sexy. Just Ask Kurt.

Hi guys. Remember how last week I said to ignore any and all emails that contain links asking for your credit cards?

That's still a good idea.

But remember my ending line, where I said "...Unless it's a LivingSocial Deal. Those things rock my world." ??

Well, today's LivingSocial deal rocked my world so much, I would have bought it 50 times if they hadn't set a 1-per-person limit. Maybe you've heard of it already?

For $10 you can get a $20 Amazon Gift Certificate.



In case you are wondering what LivingSocial is, it's a lot like Groupon. They have a new deal every day, and it expires in a day. So that Amazon card? You only have until tomorrow morning to purchase that.

But you don't have to use it in the next day.

I usually purchase the half-off local restaurant deals. For $15, I regularly get $30 to spend at all sorts of cool restaurants. We've tried an Ethiopian restaurant, an Italian restaurant, an Indian Food restaurant, etc.

You usually have 6 months to use your deal. Sometimes there are other limits, but that's pretty standard, at least for the restaurant deals.

It makes date night pretty darn affordable. Which, when you're married, becomes the biggest turn-on.

(At least for Kurt.)

This Amazon giftcard, though? Does not expire. I looked- it's in the fine print. Who knew fine print could be so exciting?

So you could save this for Christmas time- 5 years from now. Or use it to buy a few trashy romance novels. Or a textbook.

Or heck, put it towards a Kindle.

Or just sit there, wondering if this is spam. After all, there was that whole free-movie-ticket-incident...

(come on guys. You know this is me.)

So why am I telling you about this? I have to be getting something out of it.

Well, I love you all. And I know how to share. And I am not being asked to write this post, or sponsored in any way.

Except...well, if three of you do buy this gift, and you use this link? I get mine free.

It's only $10. So if you don't, I won't be all that disappointed.

(But if you do I'll love you forever.)

And once you buy your deal? They'll give you a link. And if three of your friends click through that on facebook or twitter or anywhere you put it, and they buy it too? You will get your deal for free.

It's like the coolest pyramid scheme ever.

But if you aren't into sharing, you can also just enjoy the fantastic deal without sharing it. No one will know. Except God.

Also, my blogging has been kind of...slow lately.


And this is kind of like a kick in the butt. Maybe tomorrow I'll even draw a picture.

So there you go. Full disclosure.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check out Amazon. I have some money to spend.


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

If you loved me, you'd send me spam.

So, yesterday's post made some of you feel left out. For the record, if I could, I would send all of you creepy free movie ticket emails. I really mean that.

Now, if it was real movie tickets, I would just keep them for myself.

...Too much honesty?

For more spam, please be sure and enable your email in your blogger account.

That's how I reply to comments, so you will also get emails from me saying things like "No, you are the most awesome person on the planet!" and "Yes, I should have my own TV show" (depending on your comment).

No really, you should do this. It makes blogging so much more fun. You will suddenly get tons of bloggers replying to your comment, and less people will hate you for showing up as a ""

As for the random, questionable email that went out yesterday, I can't promise a lot of those. Heck, I'll even try to limit them in the future. But just know that every one is sent with love. And a whole lot of malware (I assume).

And if you ever click through a link, and it asks for your credit card number? Run away. Like, book it into the other room, and hide under a table. And take your credit card with you.

...Unless it's a LivingSocial Deal. Those things rock my world.


Tuesday, January 11, 2011

I didn't send you a movie ticket

So, I think I need to change my password. It looks like something hacked my Gmail address book, and sent out a thing for free movie tickets. I have no idea if it's legit, but I'm thinking not.

Sorry guys.

I tried to send out emails to everyone, but there are 924 people in my contacts, and I reached my sending limit pretty fast.

Hopefully people see either this, or my facebook update...


I don't know why he gets nervous. He passes most of my tests.

"Hey Kurt, how much do you love me?"

He stared at me.

"Why yes, this is a test," I assured him.

He thought about it for a minute before answering.

"I love you enough to have married you even though you are the messiest roommate I have ever had. In other words, "Sooo much." With three 'o's."

"...I'll take it."


Saturday, January 8, 2011

I'm not scared of silence. I just avoid it whenever possible.

I live my life with a soundtrack. In the car, in my home, at work (you know, back when I had work). I am a music junky.

If you looked at my iPod, you'd find a semi-eclectic mix of Hip Hop, Country, Classic Rock, Show tunes, and a whole lot from the late 90's, and early 2000's (What? I was in highschool. That music defined my generation). In fact, my iPod probably looks a lot like yours.

The only thing I steer clear from is Classical music.

Ugh. I hate Classical music.

Growing up, we didn't listen to the radio. My parents surrounded us with The Beach Boys, Chicago, Neil Diamond, and a whole lot of Classical orchestra music.

I can handle the first three, but I think I overdosed on the Classical stuff. It just makes me angry.

Whenever I blog, I do it with background music. And I think you can tell when you read it. For example, when I wrote this fairytale post, I was listening to Pandora's Classical Christmas station. And it is a lot more refined than my usual writing.

And when I wrote this graphically violent one? A combination of Alanis Morissette, Pink, and Avril Lavigne. Of course.

Today, I hopped on iTunes and decided to download my favorite hits of 2010.

And then I thought, "Why not them with you guys?"

You're welcome.

My favorite hits of 2010:

American Honey, by Lady Antebellum

Hey Soul Sister by Train

(I have a pandora station based on Train. I love them that much.)

Just The Way You Are, by Bruno Mars

Secrets, by OneRepublic

Love The Way You Lie, by Eminem

(I have a weakness for Eminem.)

Rhythm Of Love, by Plain White T's

Empire State Of Mind, the Glee version

(Other songs that I love more when Glee sings them: Don't Stop Believin', Bust Your Windows, and Last Name)

Shy Ronnie, Featuring Shy Ronnie and Rhianna

(technically, this aired in December of '09. But I didn't see it until a month later, so I'm counting it.)

Honorable mentions: Stuck Like Glue by Sugarland, Love Like Woe by The Ready Set, Fireflies by Owl City, Watcha Say by Jason Derulo, Billionaire by Travie McCoy,

What kind of music do you listen to?


Friday, January 7, 2011

Awkward? Oh no, we are WAY past awkward.

I wanted to go to a sex shop.

(For my international readers, a sex shop is a place where you buy lingerie/adult novelty items, not a place where you buy sex. Just thought I should clarify.)

I guess I come across as pretty unfazeable in real life. When someone opens a white elephant gift and finds sparkling cider, condoms, handcuffs, and a pregnancy test, I always get blamed.

(Ok, fine. It was me.)

But when it comes to the adult novelty items in the back of the store, I get all flustered and awkward. I can't stop blushing, and eye contact is out of the question.

Still, I was curious.

I told Kurt that I wanted to go to an adult store a while ago, and he was game. But every time we tried, I'd chicken out last minute. They all looked too sleazy and dirty.

...And most of the ones in Pennsylvania weren't really sex stores- they were adult book and movie stores, with creepy old men as their main clientele.

No thank you.

I decided to try the Blue Boutique.

The Blue Boutique is a shop in Salt Lake City. It's a well lit, classier option. I get their emails, and even though I've never been there, I knew it would be a better choice.

We planned it out, and picked the day. My Dad was taking us all to The Roof for dinner on Monday, which is right in the center of Salt Lake. Perfect.

We would drive separately, and make The Stop on our way home.

What could possibly go wrong?


The day wasn't going as smoothly as my dad had hoped. My little brother hadn't gotten the message, and was still sleeping ten minutes before we were supposed to leave. My dad was really frustrated, and stormed around the house.

He just wanted it to be special.

After some pretty stressful minutes, they all piled into the car and left. But then a few seconds later they peeled back into the driveway.

"Helena! Why aren't you guys driving with us??"

I looked up from my makeup in surprise.

"Well, we aren't ready yet. We will just follow you guys in a few minutes."

"No, just come with us now. I want this to be special."

I could tell he was really frustrated.

I thought fast. "We have a few stops to make. It's ok, dad, don't worry."

He was getting more and more agitated.

"Are you mad at me? What's going on?"

"No, we just want to drive by ourselves."

He paced into the other room, muttering to himself. Then he turned to Kurt and said, "You guys are going over to Amber and Dave's house afterward to play games. It doesn't make sense. You should just drive with us."

He marched back over and demanded "You guys need to just get in the car."

I was flustered. "Dad! We have errands to run!"

He was nearing the end of his rope. "Helena, I want this to be nice, and you're just making it harder than it has to be! I don't understand, just get in the car and we will drive together-"

"Dad! We are going to a sex shop! And I don't want you to come with us!"

The words just hung there, begging me to snatch them back.

We stared at each other, horrified. The silence grew more and more awkward, and finally he turned and walked out the door.

Mortified, I turned to Kurt, who was just standing there in shock. "I didn't know what to do!" I pleaded. "He wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Romy, the cleaning lady, was dying of laughter in the background.

She finally gasped out a full sentence. "I can't-gasp-believe-gasp-you said that to your father!"

She was doubled over with laughter.

Kurt started chuckling too.

"It just came out you guys!"

They were laughing too hard to respond.

...My poor Dad. He just can't seem to catch a break.


When we went over to Amber's house later that night, I shared that story with my sisters.

They were more horrified than amused, and Chantel piped up with a story of her own.

"For our one year anniversary, Michael and I decided to check out a sex store. We were in Saint George, and we looked in the phone book. There were a few phone numbers, but no addresses."

"Did you call?" we asked curiously.

"Yeah. The number belonged to a lady who sells sex toys out of the back of her car."


"We met her in a parking lot."

"'re kidding."

"No, she was really nice."

I just...I didn't know what to say to that.

So there you go. If you're in Salt Lake, check out the Blue Boutique. And if you're in Saint George, check out the shady people who sell sex toys out of the back of their cars.


Kurt's response when I told him this story: "And that, my friends, is how you catch Chlamydia."


Note from Chantel:

"It was a lady who does sex toy parties! Like Tupperware parties! It wasn't weird!"

Sure, Chantel. Sure.


Wednesday, January 5, 2011

It was like a fairy tale. Only, with Pantyhose.

This year, we decided to try something new for New Years. Normally we get together with friends or family (depending on which part of the country we are in), and play games late into the night, getting drunk on Sparkling Cider, cookies, and laughter.

This year we wanted to try something new.

So we went to the Opera.

My friend Briana was in town, and it was her idea.

The Opera tickets were very expensive, but thanks to our powerful and influential connections, we got in for free.

(did I mention that Briana's husband was playing in the orchestra that night?)

I was nervous. Not only had I never actually met Briana before (we are blogging friends), but I also do not own any formal dresses.

And this was a formal dress event. With well-to-do patrons. Who wore a lot of diamonds, sequins, and fur. Real Diamonds, sequins, and fur.

I can't imagine how many people died harvesting those sequins.

Before we left for the event, I ran around like crazy, trying to throw together a passable outfit.

It wasn't easy.

In the end, I chose a little black dress, with fancy high heels, and black stockings.

I hated those stocking.

I have a lot of tights, but all of them have runs. So on our way into Oakland we stopped at Target, and I bought the cheapest pair I could find.

They were super-ultra-control top. And I had to put them on in the car.

There we were, driving through traffic, with my skirt hiked up to my waist, struggling to pull these things up. Kurt was horrified.

"Helena! Stop it. The other cars can see you."

But I didn't care. It was either me, or the pantyhose, and I wasn't going to let something as trivial as "indecent exposure" get in the way of this victory.

Once I got them over my hips, I reached down to my toes, trying to coax that last inch up my legs.

And when I finally had them where I wanted them, I started flexing.

Usually when you're putting on tights you do it while standing, with room enough to squat and lunge them into place. That way the crotch doesn't sag tightly to mid-thigh, restricting your movement in a way that is reminiscent of a straightjacket.

Well, I had to mimic those movements in the car. I brought my knees up to my chin, and flailed my feet around. It probably looked like I was giving birth. In heels.

Not one of my more elegant moments.

Kurt gave up, and stared resolutely out the windshield, too embarrassed to even acknowledge when my foot hit him in the face.

(Which was a total accident. I promise.)

When we parked next to the library, I climbed out of the car, and surreptitiously gave the tights a few extra tugs. Then, glancing around, I squatted for good measure.

When we walked into the building, I was immediately impressed with just how impressive the other guests were. Or at least, how impressed they were with themselves.

Have I mentioned the sequins?

I looked around hopefully, and spotted Briana almost immediately. She looked beautiful. Her dress wasn't a dress- it was a gown.

I hesitated in the doorway, because, well, the pressure of meeting someone who reads my blog is kind of intense.

I am not very funny in real life. I'm mostly just awkward.

I was mumbling something about having to text and make sure it was her, when she looked up at me and smiled.


She got up, and walked quickly across the atrium, a huge smile on her face.

I tried to smile back, but it probably looked more like a frightened grimace.

"And Kurt! I am so glad to finally meet you!"

She swept me into a hug, and I started to relax.

(If you ever meet me in real life, please give me a hug. I will be really nervous.)

We exchanged pleasantries and compliments. "Your hair looks so pretty!" "I love your dress," and made our way towards our seats.

I began to feel more confident, and shared the panty-hose-in-the-car story. Briana laughed and commiserated, and I noticed the proper old lady in front of me shift with displeasure.

It wasn't exactly a refined topic.

(But I didn't really care.)

Throughout the performance, which was actually pretty funny, we were treated to some unexpected diversions. A man sitting behind us started to snore. And elegantly dressed woman tottered in after intermission, completely drunk, and flopped down all over someone elses chair.

Afterward, we went to the Gala.

The lobby of the library had been turned out elegantly. The gala was basically a ball, with a lot of free desserts.

I owned that dessert bar.

The guests were dancing and laughing, and spilling champagne all over the tables. At one point, a Navy Officer proposed to his sweetheart (and I am fairly certain she said yes).

It was overwhelming.

We danced, and laughed, and ate with our new friends. Briana and her husband are just as nice and funny in real life as she is on her blog.

After midnight, Briana announced "I need a cheeseburger."

So we hopped into our car, and drove to Steak And Shake.

It was a fantastic, magical night.

When we got home, I peeled those pantyhose off, and tossed them in the trash.

...but then I dug them out, and slept with them under my pillow.

That night was like a fairy tale. Only, with Pantyhose.


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