So basically I feel like a big old loser for not graduating this semester. Every chick my age and their freaking mom is graduating within the next few weeks - but alas, I am behind due to financial set backs (Just in case you thought I was a total slacker.) So this blog will not be on the glory that is graduation, like every single other blog.* You will not find montages of me in a cap and gown or whimsical musings of how I just can't believe my college career is over forever. Yeah no, that will be in winter - in theory. This blog is going to be exactly the same as every single other one of my blogs. Excited? Dang skippy you are.
-That "dang" you just read, wasn't always a "dang." Raise your hand if you're impressed. Not swearing is hard. Good thing Shawn is a lovely example of being perfect. When I curse he looks at me like a mother would look at her kid after he peed in the sink. Okay, so maybe it's not that bad. But I always feel a little sheepish. Unless, that is, I stubbed my toe or ran into a wall or something. Then it's totally legit.
-I made taco soup. All by myself. Well, if you're not counting the cookbook. Words can't describe how effing proud of myself I was.
-So you know how people (see also: women) are always joking around about how girls are always right? It doesn't matter what a guy says, or even if the chick is wrong... she's still right? Turns out, it's not true. That, or Shawn is a woman. He's (mostly) always always always right. It drives. me. crazy. I feel like the biggest tool when I tell him all confidently that he should turn left, when he had said we should turn right.... And find out that we should've turned right after he's already turned left. It's even worse when he knows I'm wrong and he still does what I say... I can't decide if it's cruel of him or just flat out sweet. He's convinced that I just say or do the opposite of everything he says or days, just for the sake of argument. The sad truth is is that it's probably not far from the truth. Why is arguing so much fun? And I don't mean that yelling and screaming and hating each other arguing - I mean the frivolous, back and forth, I'm right-you're wrong, bickering. I think I crave to be right so often, that when I don't have any clue what the answer is - I do say the opposite of whatever Shawn says. It gives me a 50% chance of having my neener neener moment. I relish in neener neener moments.
-I just finished writing a 12 page paper. Why am I blogging?
-I have a double chin. Good holy haggis. I have a double chin. If anyone has any remedies for the double/occasional triple chin - please save my face the sickening tolls of gravity.... You know, or fat. Whatever. Did I mention there's cellulite on my toosh? Yum! You know when you hear someone say, "Oh yeah, so and so chick from high school - she's put on some major pounds." Whenever I hear someone say that, I'm automatically paranoid that somewhere, someone is saying the same exact thing about me. "Oh that Chelsea chick.... beached. whale." Okay, so I'm just being dramatic. But seriously, I would love to lose like... 15-20 pounds. Because I feel like it's all in my chin and my ass.**
-Remember my death paranoia? The other day I turned on the TV and there was this show on about husbands who totally lost it and killed their wives. Well that never occurred to me. Haha, joke. Then Shawn and I were watching this show that had all these really stupid ways of people dying - some guy was driving a steamroller drunk on the job and didn't put it in park to get off and go use the restroom. Yeah, that douche got steamrollered in a porta-potty. I probably shouldn't watch shows about death... But I'm strangely drawn to it - as totally creepy and morbid as that sounds. I think I mostly just like how they end up figuring out that the dude killed the chick or whatever. It's the CSI stuff that interests me. There's a show called Snapped about chicks who totally lose it and kill their husbands. Crazy psychotic people. I can't even imagine.
-Shawn and I went to the wrong ward on Sunday. Apparently they just barely split our apartment complex in half and naturally the internet didn't point us to the correct half. This ward had 120 kids in the primary. And at one point they excused all the youth (and I still, to this day, have no idea why), and half the congregation was gone. So many kids. Lots of super cute babies everywhere. Needless to say my ovaries were kicking.
*Date Night = Hilarious.
-Our apartment is almost ready to have its picture taken. Maybe I'll even give a good ol' virtual tour... Because I know you guys wanna. Then you can feel jealous that your apartment will never be as cool as ours. Holler.
-I invested in a PedEgg. Yes, those things are just as nasty as they look on TV. I threaten Shawn with sprinkling my foot gratings into his salad if he pisses me off. Aren't I a gem of a wife?
-Lately I've been eating anything that isn't nailed down. So first this birth control makes me not want to eat, and now all of a sudden I want to inhale Thanksgiving twice? What the heck? Maybe I should just forget the birth control and have 28 kids? Because that wouldn't make me fatter....
-Shawn is already starting to look like a Mexican from being in the sun all day while I'm trapped under florescent lighting all day. Aren't offices grand?
Okay I'm totally just rambling now. That is all.
*By the way, I mean no disrespect to those of you who did blog about graduation - I clearly couldn't be any more jealous. Party on dudes.
**Swear word necessary. I'm upset.