Anyways, I don't actually have anything noteworthy to blog about... But I guess I could try and wring out a few things.
-As you saw in my previous post, we spent our holiday weekend painting every single freaking ceiling in the house we bought. I farumphed around a majority of the time mumbling that we should just buy a damn paint sprayer - apparently painting isn't one of my strong points. We still have a few more things to do before we actually move in. And by "we", I mean my husband and his company. I still have to help paint, at least it's walls this time around. We're getting new carpet all throughout the house, granite counter tops, new tile in the bathroom, prettier cabinets, prettier fireplace... You know, stuff that I wanted fixed before we moved in, because I'm a princess. The best part about the house is that it has a basement apartment in it - so we'll be renting that out for a little while. Wee.
-We didn't even finish watching the Men Tell All episode of the Bachelorette last night. It was that lame. (Well that, and Shawn had to get up at the butt crack of dawn to work in the morning. Ah, the life of a roofer.)
-(This is a major TMI bullet. You were warned.) So I took a long overdue trip to the waxer over the weekend. After finishing the regular song and dance, she tried to talk me into getting... wait for it... a butt crack wax. Whaaaaaa? Since when do people wax their cracks?! She went on some rant about how everyone has butt crack hair, and people who say they don't are lying. And because part of me sort of wanted to be in on the "Hair Free Crack Club" and because I apparently can't say no to ladies with hot wax around my special areas, I gave in. I am positive I completely lost every ounce of dignity I ever had when the butt crack shenanigans went down. (If you are done hearing about my hairy butt crack, feel free to move on to the next bullet. This next mental image is not for those who are easily grossed out. Seriously.) I had absolutely no idea what to expect, and that's when she told me to get into fetal position on my side, knees to my chest and when her nose was practically in my butt hole, she told me to lift my cheek with my right hand. Oh. my. gosh. I've never been more mortified in my entire life. I immediately asked her what would happen if I accidentally let go of my cheek (because at this point I'm totally sweating bullets, and it's slippery). And yes, my ass would have been glued completely shut. So there I was, holding onto my right butt cheek for dear life (because I could not for the life of me imagine having to show up at the ER to get my cheeks plied apart.) And it was done, just like that. Completely hair-free. I don't even know what the benefits to a hairless crack are. The only thing I've noticed is that my flatulence is way louder. More room for vibrations, I guess. Seriously. I realize none of you asked to hear about this. But, now that I can actually laugh about that one time I lost my dignity on the waxer's table, I wanted it documented. You know, for future spawn, who will totally care about mom's hairy butt.
-Remember how I thought I was super bad ass for doing P90X? Yeah. That didn't last. But, it's not because we couldn't do it. It's because we just didn't have enough time in the day. Those things take upwards an hour and a half. Well Chels, why don't you just do it in the morning? Oh. Because I would rather swallow a stapler than drag my sorry self out of bed at 3:30am to get my butt whooped by Tony Horton. Just saying. I feel super gay for having to admit defeat, but we'll stick to running for now. We'll try again in Winter when Shawn doesn't have to wake up at God-forbidden hours.
-Life is good. I've heard that I'm too negative on here (Hi, mom!) But really, it's good. Things are turning out the right way, and the things that aren't, I get over. I have an amazing husband, family, and we're financially in a place where we can get a house. That ain't too shabby for Chelsea.
-I really do love this blogging thing. It totally keeps my self esteem where it should be. Thanks for being nice to me, Internet. Even though I tell you gross stories about my butt crack.
Happy Tuesday, Internet!