Friday, May 27, 2011

I Love My Creepy Husband

The other day the husband and I were in our room just hanging out - and within seconds of finishing what was probably a super riveting conversation, he shut his eyes and drifted off to a well-deserved nap.

And when I say 'he shut his eyes', 
I don't actually mean that at all.

Because his eyes were not closed.

See?  (Bud-um sssssssss.) 

I couldn't tell if he was actually sleeping or not, because I could still see his pupils (because believe it or not, his eyes were even more open before I took this picture)... and I was under the assumption your eyeballs roll back into your brain when you're sleeping.  So I started making faces at him to see if he'd smile or something.  Nope.  Nothing.  

Creepy, much?

I kept making faces at him, and apparently was giggling too much because he eventually woke up to me pulling the prettiest face in history.  He was understandably confused at my specialness - so I explained to him that he should probably start shutting his eyes when he sleeps.  To which he mumbled, "I keep them open to make sure I don't get taken advantage of" (or something to that effect, I just remember I thought it was really funny at the time, and he'll probably correct me as soon as he reads this) and rolled over.

Creepy factor aside, it's a pretty BA talent.  He should definitely try that one for size at this year's family  Christmas talent show, amiright?  (I suppose any talent is better than our we-can-spell-our-names-with-our-butts talent that we showcased last year....)  Not to mention that it will come in handy when we have kids.  "Dad's always watching."  Cue Twilight Zone music.

Anyways.  I love my husband dearly.  I'm just glad he doesn't have a blog.  Because you betcher ass there'd be a video of me snoring a la Tim on the new season of The Bachelorette.  Because when you're in love, you tease each other.  You know, in love, or in junior high.

Am I the only one a little creeped out by people who sleep with their eyes open?

Monday, May 23, 2011

Married People Rule. Always.

This weekend I went to a party.  A party full of single fraternity dudes and sorority hoochie hoes ladies.  On the rare occasions Shawn and I get invited to these parties, I usually fake menstrual cramps, a raging case of diarrhea, or death to get out of them.  But parties are so much fun, Chelsea.  What is your problem?  I will give you four semi-sufficient reasons for why I'd rather hang out at home and watch Friends reruns/sleep/Facebook stalk ex-boyfriends/mow the lawn than go hang out with a bunch of strangers trying to get in each other's pants.

1.  I'm married.  My wedding ring may as well be my own personal cloak of invisibility when I'm hanging out with a bunch of single strangers.

2.  My husband is the only one I can should flirt with.  And I don't need a party to do that.  We can do that at home.  Naked.  

Here's some space to clear your mind of that last superb mental image.

3.  I judge the shiiii out of all the slutty broads and douchey-looking guys.  (And I'm sure there is some fortune cookie or Dove Chocolate wrapper somewhere out there that predicts bad karma for all the haterjudgers in the world.)  

4.  Very rarely, being at those parties makes me kind of miss being single.  Which in turn makes me feel like the most terrible wife in the history of ever.  

See?  So either I'm justified, or just really truly lame.  You know, or both.  (And let me just emphasize that I've got nothing against the single people - 97% of my friends are still single, and 3 years ago I'da rocked that ish.  I'm just an old fart, apparently.)

Anyways, this weekend was different.  One of our really good friends (I'm talking he was the best man and maid of honor at our wedding) had a birthday this last week.  One of his fraternity buddies decided to throw an End of the World/Surprise Birthday party.  I'm not sure which half was the afterthought, but in any event, it was something that the husband and I felt like we should probably attend.

We walk downstairs with our birthday buddy into a room full of strangers, half of which manage to throw out a half-assed "Surpriiiiiiise!" upon his arrival.  I think it actually took him a couple minutes to register that the party was actually for him.

We say hi to the 4 or 5 people we actually knew, and take residence on the couch.  I talk to some friends while simultaneously fighting the urge to go tuck a handful of butt cheeks back into their respective booty shorts.  I made fun of all the half-dressed girls dancing with each other only to look over and see my husband and a couple of our guy friends gawking at them.  Upon noticing me, noticing them noticing the girl on girl ass jigglery happening in the corner - they hurriedly looked away and exclaimed that they were just trying to figure out what exactly it was that the girls were doing.  To which I said, "Whatever they're doing, it's obviously working."  Ah men, such simple creatures.

As much as I don't particularly enjoy going to these parties often, they definitely have some perks.  One of them being that I can pretty much act however I want, because I don't have a single dang person to impress.  And that is definitely one perk I bring onto the dance floor.  Yeah, baby.  It ain't a party if there isn't a super cool married broad cuttin' the shi out of a rug.  

So there I am with a girlfriend I've recently made (she thinks I'm funny, so obviously I instantly like her), openly mocking the Zumba girls in the corner and reminding my husband of all the moves I learned in my all too educational pole dancing class, when some random girl - who I've never seen or met in my life - looks at me completely surprised and starts emphatically pointing at my ring finger and exclaims,  "You're married?!  But you're like.... cool!?"    ...........   What. a. concept!  A cool married person?  By her expression, you'd have thought that I was the last cool married person on planet Earth.  She quickly followed up her surprise with, "So, like, does your husband let you come to these parties a lot?"  Instead of retorting with the largely sarcastic response I had concocted in my mind, I instead just turned around and pointed to my husband (who managed to "forget" his wedding ring, by the way) sitting on the couch behind me.  She looked a little bit confused, and a little bit like she just saw a purple unicorn.  In any event, it was amusing and irritating all at the same time.  What is with everyone thinking married people sit around and knit sweaters all day?  C'mon now.

My husband and his buddy finally started to get bored, so we gradually made our way out.  A few people asked why we were leaving "so early" to which I flashed the ol' diamond ring at them and said that according to married standard time, it was practically 3 in the morning.  

I actually had a decent time.  Because I secretly like acting like an idiot and being the center of attention.  And because I secretly like judging all the slutty girls.  And because I secretly like proving to people that I don't have to be single, dress like a slut, or drink alcohol to have a good time.

And because I know you're dying for a mental image... I stole one off of FB.  Don't judge my lack of blurring skills... I think the circles do their job just fine.

And just in case you're wondering what exactly my husband is doing, he's doing his goofy little wave to me - because we're in love, and special like that.

Anyways, my husband just said, "Love, I'm afraid you're going to leave me for your blog" and then mooned me.  So that is probably my cue.

Goodnight, Internet.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Google: Helping People Feel Better About Their Lives Every Day

Have you ever been Googling something and notice all the things that drop down underneath it that other people have searched?  (Also, are we loving that Google is a legit verb now?  Even if you're searching on Bing or something, you aren't Binging, you're Googling.)  Anyways...  The drop down box is my favorite.  Because when I'm not enjoying all the inappropriate search terms that bring random creepers onto my blog, I love seeing what kind of weird A stuff comes up when I start typing something.  Sometimes it's depressing.  Sometimes it's hilarious.  Sometimes it's creepy.  And sometimes it just straight up makes you feel better about your life.  Seriously.  Don't believe me?  Check this out.

Bet you're glad your husband/wife/significant person doesn't hate you.

Bet you're glad you have a job.  And if you don't?  Bet you're glad that you're more productive than the guy who talks to Google all day about what sounds like the absolute worst job in the history of ever.

Sure, we're all glad our neighbors don't deal drugs.  But are we all feeling just a tiny bit scared for the apparent crap ton of Googlers with zombie neighbors?  How do they even have time to Google?  RUN.

 I can't bring myself to say, "Bet you're glad you don't live in a giant bucket."  Because, I know there's a few of you who would love nothing more than to tell people you live in the bucket on the corner.  (And if you're as curious as I was at what that search term brings up, go here.  Weirdest thing ever, amiright?  Keep clicking, and I promise they'll just keep getting weirder and weirder.)

Well, I know I'm glad my mother in law is none of these things.  I suppose I can't speak for all of you... But I think we all knew where Google would take this lovely search.

I suppose this one speaks for itself.

See?  Sometimes even a little perspective from fellow Googlers will help you realize that things could be worse.  Even if an area of your life does fall under one of those searches, at least you aren't Justin Bieber.

I kid.  Kind of.

And if this doesn't work (not that I recommend using this as a regular coping mechanism, but you know), Google Image works wonders when you think you're having the acne breakout from Hell.  I may or may not know this from experience.  (Cough lookhereifyou'rehavingabadzitday Cough)  It reminds me of when I was younger, and would whine about my "ugly days" to my mom - and she would pull up a picture of the most aesthetically challenged person in the history of people and say, "It could be worse."  (So I come by the downward social comparison honestly, see?)

So whenever I have somewhat of a downer day, it's easy to remember that things could be worse - and as long as I'm continually trying to make them better, saaaa'll good.

Happy Wednesday/Thursday, Internet.
Also, don't judge the fact that I've written approximately 76,946 posts about Google search terms. Kthanks.

Friday, May 13, 2011

A Happy Chelsea is the Best Kind of Chelsea

Yes, it's overly used.
Yes, it's a huge blocliché.
Yes, I'm going to do it anyway.

Things That Are Making Life Awesome
(AKA The all-elusive Happy/Smiling/Rainbows/Kittens/Glitter List of the week)

I'm finally working from home.
And it is 47829748923728 times better than working from the call center.

I'm officially a University of Utah graduate.
And that's straight up baller.  Even if it was the "Mormon Mommy Degree."  When I was little I'd always tell people that I wanted to be a mom when I grew up (speaking of being clich√©...).  Now I have a degree I fully intend to reference every time my kids think I'm a terrible mother.  (I'm only kind of kidding.)

My husband is enrolled at the U this upcoming Fall.
And for those of you who don't remember, this link should remind you why this is all too amusing.

Some of the flowers we planted are actually blooming.

We planted a bunch of random bulbs behind the tulips.  And when I say random, I mean random.  Thank you, WalMart.  We're going to have the most special garden on the block.  (Maybe just ignore the fact that the picture is blue.  And crappy.)

I get to go to church for the first time in 3 or 4 weeks.
Thank you, random co-worker who so graciously picked up my hours this weekend.

My husband is going to buy me an iPhone.
Cough cough cough.  Right, husband?

I get to go to the lady doctor again in a few weeks!
Oh... wait.

It haven't seen snow for a whole week.
Welcome to Utah, Sun.  Please stay.  Seriously.

I'm going to go mow the lawn, or cook, or do something a teensy bit more productive - before my husband divorces me for someone who doesn't wear sweats all day.

Adios, lovers.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Free Time, Couches, and Getting Fat

So since I've already wasted most my morning by sleeping in until practically noon, I'm going to go ahead and bullet this baby out for you.

-I have Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays off.  I barely even know what to do with myself with all the free time. Especially with Shawn gone.  So I usually just end up spending money at various stores on things I think we need.  Which you know, I hear husbands really like.  (Apparently they don't grasp the importance of broccoli steamers and matching hand towels for the bathroom.)  I even found myself watching Good Things Utah one morning, and felt old and lame.  I would imagine it's only a matter of time before my inner Martha Stewart comes raging out.  Which probably isn't so bad, because I still need to make presents for all you winners.  See?  I haven't forgotten.  WOO!

-Speaking of buying things I think we need, we purchased a couch set yesterday, and I'm beyond thrilled about it.  And since my husband managed to break my camera, I'm just going to use the picture from the website to show you.

They look 572839472304 times better than the half-eaten hippie couch we had residing in here previously.  Not to mention there's more room for people to sit.  Before, it was just the gross couch and the beanbag that Toby may or may not have peed on a few times.  Super classy.  I'm just waiting to see how Toby decides to destroy these babies.  When we brought them into the house, we hadn't even taken them out of the plastic and Toby had already peed all over one of them.  Dumb schmuck.

-I mowed the lawn for the first time since I was, oh, 13 years old.  I'm sure husband was beyond thrilled while I practically sprinted behind the lawn mower.  Those suckers go a lot faster than I remember.  Or maybe I'm just fat and slow now.  But in any event, I was pretty proud of myself.

-I can't remember if I told ya'll about the flower garden Shawn and I attempted to plant.  (You know, the flower garden we planted the day before it snowed.  Guh, Utah.)  We planted a bunch of random bulbs, and I'm proud to report that about 2 of the 15 bulbs we planted are sprouting.  One of the flowers we planted we thought was only 12 inches... But as I was looking at the package, I realized it said 12' not 12".  Needless to say we're pretty excited about our supposed 12 foot flower.  I'm pretty convinced we're going to have a special garden.  And by special, I mean totally ridiculous.  I'll be sure to take a picture once it has reached is full potential.  You know, and once Shawn buys me another camera.  Cough.

-I have about 25 episodes of "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" currently on my DVR.  I can't bring myself to watch them, however.  Because whenever I do, it's pretty guaranteed that I'll take at least three pregnancy tests in the next week.  And that's only kind of lame.  Husband has my pregnancy test allowance currently set to a box a month.  Which is mostly funny, but semi pathetic.

-Speaking of not being pregnant, I've gained an embarrassing amount of weight in the last few months (which I realize usually has everything to do with actually being pregnant, but that's beside the point.)  And I have no idea why.  If anything I'm going to the gym more.  I mean, I'm no gym rat by any stretch of the imagination.  But, you know.  I don't know if my metabolism just decided one day that it hated me, or if stress is taking over my body.  But it's really gettin' me down.  Any explanations for completely random, sudden weight gain, Internet?

-Shawn and I got into a mild kerfuffle, mostly because I'm a brat.  But as a result, I ran away to a movie theater and watched Water for Elephants.  And I kind of really loved it.  Circuses, romance, Robert Pattinson in his non-twinkling hot version, and elephants?  Yes, please.  (But seriously, did we love Rob so much more in this movie than in Twilight?  I almost wanted him to come steal me away from my husband.  But you know, not really.)

-So, I really need to use my free flight benefits I get from this new job fast.  Because the benefits are just about the only thing keeping me there.  If you had a free flight on jetBlue, where would you fly?

My dog is whining like a baby because he's bored out of his mind. So because it's more annoying than anything, and not because I've run out of anything mildly entertaining to write, I'll just stop here.

Until next time, lovelies.  

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Hola, Internet.

Life is crazy.  Straight up.

Work barely gives me any time to breathe.  Which is funny, because I used to complain about not having anything to do during work - and now I complain that the work is non-stop.  Can a sister get some middle ground here?

I have one more final to go.  The last two finals I took I studied for less than a day.  I read zero of the covered chapters.  But surprisingly felt semi-decent about how I did.  There's something about the end of the semester that seems to bring out my inner Idon'tgiveadamn.

My graduation is this week.  FIN.A.LLY.  I'm so done with school, that I don't even feel like walking.  (Let alone pay the extra $80 for my graduation gettup.  I've already paid them over 10 grand, thankyouverymuch.)  Is that terrible?  It's not like I'm getting some super prestigious degree.  I am proud of myself for getting it though - I think I would just rather celebrate at dinner with my family rather than sitting through a 2 hour ceremony.  Talk about snooze fest.  Am I alone here?

Husband and I have been trying to renovate our front and backyard now that things are starting to clear up.  (You know, minus Mother Nature's little PMS episode the last few days.)  When it comes to yard work, I normally would rather clean 5 toilets.  But lately I've been on a super let'smakeouryardAWESOME kick.  However, it's a little daunting.  There's a lot of landscaping to be done.  And how in the heck do you get rid of MUSHROOMS.  Our front yard is plagued by them.  And it's disgusting. 

Sorry this is so lame and short - I suppose you win some and you lose some.  Lunch is done in about t minus 1 minue! 

What are YOU up to?  My Google Reader is a little bit full right now - so the short version would be nice.  ;)

Happy Sunday, Internet!