Chelsea's Psycho Babble

All I Want For Christmas...

2012-01-02T15:19:00.000-07:00

For Christmas, my sweet dad painted this picture for me.

(Pardon the terrible quality of the photo.)

He and my mom gave it to me along with this book:

And I cried.

Not because I was sad - but because it was a tender reminder that my babies are up in Heaven waiting. And that even though I feel completely broken inside. And even though my heart breaks a little more each month that I don't see the all-elusive second line. And even though I feel like there's a gigantic, gaping void in my life.

I know that some day, whether it be a month or 7 years from now, it will by my turn.

I will get pregnant.

I will be a mom.

And I will be the happiest woman on earth.

That One Time Toby Almost Ruined Christmas

2011-12-29T13:04:00.002-07:00

(I started this post several days before Christmas. Totally slacking it up in here.)

The other day while I was at home, ~~watching the Game Show Network~~ doing really important things, I got a phone call from my husband. He had just gone to drop off his siblings at home, and they had Toby with them. Shawn's voice was somber as he told me that "something sad had happened." And naturally my first reaction is, "Who died?!" And then he told me it had to do with Toby. At which point I was sure he had leaned too far out the car window and plummeted to his death. (Apparently I always jump to the worst conclusion. And apparently that conclusion is usually death and destruction.) He tells me Toby isn't dead and that he'll tell me the rest when he gets home.

Talk about one hell of a cliffhanger. Thanks for that, husband.

Shawn comes home with Toby, who looks completely sheepish. And my husband says, "Remember that life decision Christmas gift I was going to get you?" He went on to tell me that he found the cutest kitten in the world that he had been keeping for me at his parents house for Christmas. And then he went on to inform me that our dog, Satan, tried to KILL IT earlier that night. Apparently he had clamped down on the poor thing and everything. (Luckily, the cat was fine. Shawn got the stupid dog before he starting shredding the cat.) I can handle my dog ruining all my bras, my shoes, my baseboards, and virtually everything he touches. But ruining Christmas is a bitch ass move, even for him.

And like any self-respecting adult, I proceeded to throw a major tantrum. Screaming expletives at the dog, not only because he ruined the surprise - but because Shawn wasn't going to let me keep the kitten (that I hadn't even seen yet) anymore. To say I was livid, would be a massive understatement. While I was drafting up an ad on KSL to sell our dog, Shawn asked if I wanted to see the kitten. Which only upset me more - because I knew if I saw the kitten, I'd want to keep him even more. But because apparently I can't say no to holding a baby of any species, I gave in and went to go meet my Christmas kitty.

Long story short - I whined my way into keeping the kitten. (Related: I respect the crap out of women who are able to give their babies up for adoption. I couldn't even let a cat go.) I plead Toby's case that he just wasn't used to being around cats, and all he needed was time and some good discipline and training (compliments of my solid Google searching beforehand.) And I plead my case, that mostly revolved around babies, and the lack thereof in our little family. And either I had kickass arguments, or my husband wanted to avoid another hormone-induced meltdown - in any event, we brought the kitten home a few days later.

We brought him inside in a kennel and naturally, Toby flew off the handle. We started out by holding Toby back from the kennel and letting him just look at the cat. The cat would hiss at him, and Toby would flip his shit - which went on for a few vicious cycles. Finally Toby got to a point where we could let him go, and he would just sit by the cage, watch the cat, and whine every once in a while. Then we took the kitten out of the kennel, with a leash on Toby and let them get used to that.

And now I'm pleased as punch to report that we can have both animals in the same room, un-kenneled and semi-supervised, and they're both fine. I'm pretty sure Toby irritates the crap out of the cat though. We're still working on teaching Toby to leave the cat alone. He rarely lets him out of his sight - unless he's busy trying to eat cat poop. Or cat litter. Or cat food.

Sicko.

I have a bunch of videos on our video camera of the two of them "playing" - but they're not uploading to my Mac. (Yeah baby! More on that later.) I have a few pictures of the cat though - he's not very easy to take pictures of, because he's such a freakin' spaz and rarely stops moving. (Also, if you haven't noticed, the cat still doesn't have a name. We're thinking Meeko, but I'm not sure if I like it yet or not. Suggestions are welcome.)

Anyways, here are some halfway decent pictures.

This is, hands down, my favorite picture of them so far.

So you can just go ahead and prepare yourselves now to be inundated with cat posts. Everyone's FAVORITE, I know.

But not before I catch you up on our super awesome Christmas.

Men Are Neat

2011-12-16T14:06:00.000-07:00

Men are generally fairly simple creatures. But sometimes you just gotta wonder...

Ladies and gentlemen:

A Few Reasons I will Probably Never Fully Understand the Male Species*

1. They spend a crap ton of money on one shoe. (Hi, husband!) That they will never wear. That sports a basketball player's illegible signature.** (10 awesome points for the kickass pun.) Um, hello? At least when women buy expensive shoes, we buy two... and we wear them.

2. They puff out their chests when they're measuring height with another dude. The hell? Newsflash: puffy chests ≠ extra height. Also? You look like an idiot.

3. They can't go a day, nay, several hours without thinking about sex. And heaven forbid going more than 3 days without it. Talk about a sexual famine.

4. The man hug. You know, the ever-so-slightly touching shoulders and smacking each other on the back a few times? By definition, a hug is to "squeeze (someone) tightly in one's arms." Way to half ass that one.

5. They like butts. Boobs, I can understand. Men don't have them - they're mysterious. (Well, usually. On both counts.) But butts? We all have them. I just don't see the allure. Nothing pleasant comes out anyone's ass. How is that even remotely attractive?

6. They can eat 17 times as much as women, and not gain a single, solitary pound. (Clearly I can't seem to let this one go.)

7. They watch irrelevant teams playing virtually any sport, solely so they can watch sports. Related: Don't tell women there's only "5 minutes left" in a quarter. We both know it'll be a good solid half hour. At least.

8. They don't cry during sad movies. Like Brother Bear. Or The Notebook. Or Toy Story 3. Have you no soul? Let it out, brotha!

9. (Some) of them shave their legs. Or their arms. Or their armpits. Why? Isn't that the glory of being a man? You know, besides being able to pee standing. Embrace your hairy legs and the fact that it's socially acceptable to not shave them. Also? When you shave your arms - the terrorists win.

That is all.

*Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm generalizing. I realize not all men are bro hugging, chest puffing, butt loving metrosexuals. Also? I'm fully aware that if we were to flip this post around - there would be 57 times as many reasons that men don't understand women.
**Jimmer's, no less.

I'm Like Santa. But Better.

2011-12-14T23:27:00.001-07:00

Tonight I went to a Christmas party with my team from work. Naturally, there was a White Elephant gift exchange after dinner. And instead of being normal and finding some completely useless item in my house, or some wildly inappropriate sex toy, or some really disgusting food item.

I went the horrifying route.

And I picked myself up one of these babies...

Yes, it's a tarantula.

Yes, it's alive.

Yes, it's bloody terrifying.

And yes, I'm awesome at presents.

(FYI: This post was either a picture of a disgusting, furry arachnid, or the grossly detailed story of my battle royale with the damn toilet that decided to clog up and spray poop water everywhere. You're welcome.)

He Says, She Hears.

2011-12-12T17:03:00.001-07:00

And by he, I mean my husband.

And by she, well, I won't undermine your intelligence.

He Says: "We should try to eat healthier."

She Hears: "Maybe you should take it easy on the Coconut Dreams, tubby."

He Says: "Do you want a massage?"

She Hears: "Wanna have sex?"

He Says: "I need to start working out more."

She Hears: "You need to start working out more."

He Says: "Are you hungry?"

She Hears: "Tame the theatrics, bitch."

He Says: "I'm not in the mood."

She Hears: "I really am in the mood, but enjoy being difficult as payback."

He Says: "Can we snuggle?"

She Hears: "Wanna have sex?"

He Says: "Your butt looks really good in that outfit."

She Hears: "Your butt doesn't look good in anything else you wear. Ever."

He Says: "I'm not mad, I'm fine."

She Hears: "I might be mad. You should probably ask me 847 more times just to make sure."

He Says: "Hahahahahaahahahaha."

She Hears: "I just farted, and it's going to smell like rotten ass in T minus 5.3 seconds."

He Says: "I'm bored."

She Hears: "Wanna have sex?"

Isn't marriage grand?

And on a mostly unrelated note.

I saw this for the first time over the weekend and literally almost peed my pants from laughing so hard. It was just inappropriate enough to not post on Facebook. But, as I've made abundantly clear, there's always a place for vagina humor in my blog.

"The pool is cold."

Hi.larious.

Broken Crap, Christmas, and Meltdowns.

2011-12-09T12:20:00.001-07:00

I feel like I can't start bulleting my crap out unless I have an intro.

And an amusing, irrelevant GIF.

Much better. And go.

-To add to the list of things that have broken in the last 3 months, we can officially put my laptop. And by 'my laptop', I mean the laptop I stole from my husband when we got married and he got his Mac. Before I was using the most gigantic Dell laptop you've ever seen that took a good half hour to turn on. I digress. The laptop's hard drive crashed for the second time. We lost everything. Luckily, most of it is replaceable - with the exception of some of the homework assignments in our Random School Crap folder. But who needs that anyways, right? I think the thing I'm most upset about is losing our budget that I spent hours on for last year. The good news? New laptop for me! Hopefully one that isn't lava hot when I turn it on.

-My husband made a list of things he wants for Christmas - including, but not limited to, Spanish learning software, a hand gun, and those bouncy stilt things they have at the circus. (Random? Yes.) Now, if we learned anything from last Christmas - I'm not necessarily a huge fan of getting people stuff they know they're going to get. (Hello, ping pong table.) What fun is that? Shawn's picked out 85% of his gifts thus far, which I sort of hate. And when he's not picking out his gift, he's guessing what the other gifts are under the tree (turns out pillows aren't very easy to disguise in wrapping paper). The other day he told me I wasn't allowed to buy him anything else because we had to stay under a budget. So I did what any rational wife would do, and more or less gave him the verbal finger and had a nice, Clomid-induced meltdown. The meltdown had it's phases. It started with, "You're ruining Christmas" then headed toward "I'm fat and hate my body" and then plummeted into "Why can't I have a babyyyyyyyyy?!" Want to feel like you're losing your damn mind? Pop a few fertility pills. Anyways. Needless to say, I fully plan on purchasing some really random gifts for the ol' husband.

-Sometimes I can watch Netflix while I'm working. I saw that Vampire Diaries was on there. And I didn't think I'd be able to get into it - because, um, vampires? No thanks. Bet you can guess the ending of this bullet. I got sucked. in. However I didn't get too far gone before dragging my husband down with me. The fact that I've made him watch The Bachelor, Gossip Girl, and Pretty Little Liars with me gets me major wife points.

-Speaking of Netflix, I tried watching The Last Song, with Miley Cyrus. And I seriously could not get past 6 minutes of it. Something about that chick drives. me. crazy. Oi.

-Currently my dresser looks like this:

It gives my husband a minor coronary every time he sees it. I should be cleaning it. But I'm not. Because what's worse than putting away a bunch of laundry? Well, besides Miley Cyrus. This is usually the point when everything ends up in the dirty clothes. Even though I can guarantee you 80% of it is clean. That's just what happens when you try on 8 outfits and hate them all. Men will never understand.

-So remember how I was all gung ho I'm going to be a Real Estate Agent! Well, I am. I'm officially enrolled in school - and can take the classes at my leisure. As I look at the different chapters of the book, I know I'm going to be 47 different kinds of bored with a lot of the classes. But oddly enough, I'm looking forward to it. It makes me feel ambitious. Like I'm actually doing something with my life. Babies have always been my ambition. Since I was like, seven. So now that my ovaries are being little bitches, I had to find something to keep me busy. So if anyone needs a real estate agent in the near future... PICK ME!

-Our downstairs neighbors are in the process of buying a house right now. It's kind of bittersweet for me. On one hand, we can be as LOUD as we want to upstairs, on the other hand the extra cash every month is pretty much awesome. We haven't officially decided what we're going to do once their gone. I'm feeling selfish and want my house to myself. I'm sick of stifling heavy breathing with a pillow, or having to worry about my dog barking at midnight, or worrying about our super creaky floor waking them up downstairs. However, we don't necessarily need all the space down there. Not yet, at least. So I guess we'll see. Maybe we'll keep it to ourselves for a few months and go from there.

Okay, I really need to get my ass off the computer and clean something. Or else my husband is going to be in the hospital with an ulcer.

Husband's Birthday and Other Things

2011-11-28T20:08:00.002-07:00

Shawn's birthday was on the 19th. Big 24. It had its fair share of ups and downs. We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner the night before - he dressed up, I wore a dress that I'm 94% sure makes me look like a hooker - and weight gain ensued (Oh, wait. That was just me. I'm fairly certain my husband is physically incapable of gaining weight, even when he "tries." - and yes, every time I hear him say that, my eyes roll into my brain.)

Anyways.

I had planned to drive up into the mountains after dinner and give Shawn a free pass at one of his man fantasies (after denying him the last 638 times he's asked on every other day of the year) but our good 'ol state of Utah would have none of that - and it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And saying that I'm not a fan of driving in snow is pretty much the understatement of the year, let alone driving in the damn snow capped mountains. Yeah, no thanks. Instead we went home and I gave him his real birthday present - which he might love more than me.

Doesn't he look cute? Step two is to get him some guitar lessons - not that his random, occasionally off-key strummings aren't simply delightful... but, you know. He spent the next two hours farting around on his new toy, and shrieking like a schoolgirl when he figured out a new chord.

Meanwhile, I was freezing my face off on the couch. Because, oh yeah, our heater broke that morning. There was some leak from our air humidifier, or purifier, or whatever the hell it is, and it got all over our furnace. (Which kills me, because our downstairs people had been complaining about a pee smell downstairs, and were wondering if Toby had peed on the vents upstairs, and since my dog isn't that ridiculous (and, well, air flows up from the vents) I figured it had to be a leak somewhere - but of course no one actually figured that out until it was -17 degrees in our house. Good times for all.) Luckily, only the gas valve needed to be replaced and not the whole damn furnace. Not so luckily, the furnace dude couldn't get the part until the next Monday. And thus our house turned into a Winter Wonderland for an entire weekend. WEE. (My brother and sister-in-law were nice enough to bring over some GIANT space heaters that I'm pretty sure you could roast a marshmallow over - so when I say our house was -17 degrees, I suppose I might be exaggerating. But just a little.) After having a broken AC and a broken heater, within months of each other, I can confidently say I'd much rather have a broken heater. So there's that.

The next morning, Shawn's actual birthday, we woke up and were going to make a nice birthday breakfast - and mid bacon, I got a phone call from my mom. She told me that my grandfather (her dad) had passed away just a few hours earlier. My heart sunk, on so many different levels. We threw some clothes on, and drove to the hospital where my grandpa still was. I've never been too keen on being around lifeless bodies, but it was comforting to see how peaceful my sweet grandpa seemed to be. He has certainly defied death his fair share of times over the years, so it was - and still is, a very strange feeling not having him around anymore. He and my grandma have been married for 59 years, and I sobbed like a baby as I watched her kiss and caress his face after he had passed. It broke. my. heart. However, I take solace in knowing that she, as well as my family, will be able to see him again. Our family is an Eternal Family. And I don't know how well I would be able to cope without that knowledge. My grandpa was a truly amazing man. It's an honor to be a part of his family. He will be greatly missed by many.

Also, on a semi-related note, Shawn mentioned that his grandpa passed away on his birthday the year before he was born - crazy, right? We're hoping that my grandpa can work his magic up there in Heaven and send down some baby love for us. Apparently our children are already stubborn.

I felt bad that Shawn had to spend his birthday morning in a hospital room full of sobbing people, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. We went to a shooting range with his brother and sister-in-law... and I suppose it's no surprise that I sucked. I was perfectly content pressing the button that shot out the clay pigeons (Also? Clay Pigeons? More like Clay Frisbees. What?)

Anyways.

Later that night we went to a restaurant with a bunch of friends to celebrate, and afterwards played a riveting game of dodge ball. Which, you guessed it, I also suck at. (Whenever we'd play in gym, I would always be the last one to get out, because I'd stand in the back and do nothing. If only there was a life lesson in there somewhere.) I also found out that night that one of my good friends had unexpectedly gotten pregnant. And being that my emotions were already haywire from that morning with my grandpa - I lost. it. Talk about a mental meltdown. You know, hyperventilating, snot everywhere, make-up smeared - the works. Luckily I had a friend there who let me snot all over her shirt. That's what friends are for, right?

We all finally went home - and all things considered, Shawn had a pretty alright birthday. I woke up the next morning to a comment on my Facebook wall that melted my heart.

My husband is the greatest husband in the history of husbands. I'm not biased or anything.

It's just a fact.

Happy Birthday, HotPants.

I'm Chelsea, and I Like Talking About Myself

2011-11-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

Remember back in the day when all the cool kids would post 20 random and completely irrelevant things about themselves on Facebook? (And by 'back in the day', I mean two years ago. And by 'cool kids', I mean me.) And remember how when I have nothing better to blog about, I do surveys? And even though I've already done it once, I'm doing it again. Because as fate would have it, nothing interesting has happened since Tuesday. Unless you count raking way too many bags of leaves and scooping about 938 turds off my lawn. And if you count that, then I feel sad for you.

Let's get this party started, yo.

1. In the event that anyone were to torture me to death, all it would take is a never-ending reel of Old Navy commercials.

2. I've never seen any Lord of the Rings movie all the way through, if at all. Nor do I have any intention of doing so.

3. If I were to get a tattoo, I'd get a rainbow on my stomach. And then I'd Care Bear Stare people whenever humanly possible.

4. 94% of the time, I'd rather clean the toilet than do the dishes.

5. I had an imaginary friend when I was younger. His name was Tudunt. He was black, had blue hair, and lived in a tree in my backyard. He ran away and got married and I never heard from him again.

6. I hate using Mac computers. They make me feel like an 87 year old.

7. My maxed out bench press is in the 92nd percentile. Whaaaat!

8. I've never been more self conscious of my body than I am right now.

9. Though I've become significantly less social over the years, I really miss having girlfriends.

10. I wear flip flops in Winter as my own personal way of flipping off Mother Nature. (Unintentional pun, FTW!)

11. If I'm listening to a good song in the car and my phone rings, I don't answer. Even for my husband. (Wife points.)

12. Our Thank You cards from our wedding are still sitting in a box in my office half done.

13. I'm currently battling infertility. And it's one of the hardest, most heartbreaking trials I've ever faced in my life.

14. I love checking the mail every day. Even though 98% of the time it's junk for people I've never met in my life.

15. I still have a cupcake I made last Thanksgiving sitting in my kitchen. It was that good.

16. Girls with squeaky Minnie Mouse voices, or squeaky Minnie Mouse sneezes, or squeaky Minnie Mouse yawns irritate the everloving hell out of me.

17. If I clean a room, I have to be the one who vacuums it.

18. I have a knack of asking really ridiculous questions before actually thinking about them. Like if there are lions in Utah. Or if ducks can fly. Or if an artichoke is an animal.

19. I will correct you if you incorrectly use the word good. Example: "Sleep good!" No. Sleep well.

20. I've peed in the shower before.

21. I love saying things purely for shock value.

22. When I was young, I used to think the word bikini was a bad word.

23. I collect spoons. And have over 50 from around the world.

24. People who count calories stress me out.

25. I was originally only going to do 20 of these, but decided 20 was a bad place to end. For obvious reasons.

I'm Chelsea, and now you know forty five things about me.

And then some.

November, A Soapbox, & More Really Interesting Things

2011-11-08T10:59:00.000-07:00

[Insert an interesting, yet irrelevant opening paragraph here.]

-Is it weird to anyone else that it's already November? I feel like it was just a few weeks ago that I was panicking over what to get Shawn for his birthday. And here we are again, and I've got nothing. Again. Well, except for the nice default gift that marriage provides us. It's nice to know that if I ever can't come up with anything more creative than getting naked for my husband's birthday, it's totally okay. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

-On a more ~~clothed~~ serious note, speaking of November, I think the "Post something you're grateful for every day of November" trend is great. Reflecting on your blessings is actually clinically proven to make you happier. (Thank you, college education.) And a great way to celebrate the holidays, to boot. However, I don't think I want to participate publicly, not just because every one and their dog is doing it, and they're all grateful for mostly the same things. But because it sort of makes me sad that November seems to be the only month that people are so outspoken about the things they're thankful for. Yes, I realize that it's the month of Thanksgiving, and we're all into themes - but wouldn't it be awesome if people would do the same thing in July? Or February? Snow aside, the holiday season is one of my favorites of the year. I think it's when people's best selves shine. People become more selfless, and aware of other's needs. They acknowledge all their blessings, and give to those who aren't as fortunate. It's a season centered around Christ. And wouldn't it be great if we could cultivate that attitude and feeling all year long? /soapbox

-I'm loving my new position at work. And I'm not just saying that because most of the people on my team know about my blog (Hi, team!), but it really is awesome. I don't dread logging in to work anymore, which is pleasant. Not to mention, I actually work now instead of taking a ludicrous amount of time off.

-Speaking of jobs, I decided that I'm going to be a real estate agent. Ha! My husband's company flips houses on the side when they don't have any roofs to do, and I guess it would be to their advantage if one of the wives had a real estate license. Naturally I volunteered after Shawn's dad told me we could make an extra 3ish grand for a few hours of work. I'd have to go back to school for a little bit, which isn't ideal, but I suppose it'll give me something to do. (Does that make my life sound boring, or what? Nothing better to do than go to school? Yeesh, Chels.)

-I never really mentioned anything about Halloween, other than scaring the besheesh out of my dog. I did pretty much what I told you I would last year. Sat on my butt, inhaled an embarrassing amount of sugar, and watched a scary movie. They originally wanted to watch Nightmare Before Christmas, but that isn't scary. I told them we should watch an actual scary movie, and then watch the Disney movie. (Disney? Who knew.) Anyways, we watched Scream. Which amazingly enough I had never seen up until that point. Gorey stuff aside, it was a pretty amusing show. My favorite part was probably the scene in the garage, when the girl gets stuck in the kitty door. I mean, really?

-Also? Further proof that red flavor beats blue flavor. Always. It's apparently also proof that we eat way too much candy.

Shazam!

Happy Tuesday, yo.

That One Time I Scarred My Dog For Life

2011-11-03T18:59:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time I tried to show Toby a picture of himself as a puppy on my laptop, because dogs understand that kind of stuff. You would have thought he was staring straight into the gaping jaws of Hell. He hauled ass out of my room and into his kennel faster than pretty much anything (forgive my lack of a witty metaphor). I saw an opportunity, and showed him my laptop screen whenever he needed to go to his kennel for bed. Worked like a charm.

Until it didn't.

That's when I realized Toby was spooked by his own reflection in our body mirror. He doesn't like the mirror. At all. One day when I was beyond irritated with him, and he wouldn't go to his bed, I did the mature thing and picked up the full size body mirror and chased him around the house until he went into his kennel. Now whenever I even hint at picking up the mirror, he goes to his kennel.

Then one day I was sorting through all our Halloween crap... and I found this.

Do I even need to tell you how this one ended? Other than my dog needing some serious therapy.

I thought it was all fun and games, until one day I was crinkling up a bag to throw away, and Toby ran for his life when I looked at him. Dead serious. I've managed to strike the ever-loving fear of Chelsea into my dog. In the worst way.

I probably shouldn't plan on reproducing.

Ever.

Wordless Wednesday: Our 15 Seconds of Fame

2011-10-26T21:56:00.002-06:00

Remember this?

Guess what aired today?

(An arrow, just in case I didn't stand out enough.)

(Again, probably no need for the arrows.)

You get the gist.

The fact that I look like a complete idiot pretty much any time my face is on the screen aside, it was fun to watch. And if you missed it, despair not. You can watch it here.

(Unimportant Sidenotes: The chick dressed up as a doll? Huge bitch. Also, the "dancing ninjas"? Just as annoying as they look.)

We rule. And that is all.

Promotions, Modge Podge, & HotPants

2011-10-19T20:41:00.002-06:00

So plenty of things have happened recently that would probably merit their own post. But because that obviously didn't happen, we'll do the condensed version. Because I'm all about efficiency.

1. I got a promotion at work!

This is spectacular for a variety of reasons - which include, but aren't limited to...

Way more money than I was making in my last department. Holla.

No more taking calls from intellectually impaired people - or really any people, for the most part.

Social media plays a big part in my new position... and hello, paid to Tweet? Yes, please.

Awesome, laid back people in my department.

More freedom to make my own decisions in regards to customer issues.

Responding to complaints via email - I'll take someone bitching at me through email over the phone any day.

Basically I'm just really excited about the new job. I've only been training for 3 days now, and already love it 8424589234 Coconut Dreams more than my last position. It's that good. Not to mention I don't think my bank statement will be this sad ever again.

(Yeah. I wasn't lying when I said I took way too much time off work when I was doing Reservations.)

So even though I loathe change, I'm embracing this particular one with gusto.

2. I didn't sleep in our bedroom for a few nights.

Luckily it wasn't because my husband was being a jackass, because he wasn't. I wanted to to cozy up with my dude while we watched a movie, but unfortunately our couches weren't really manufactured to accommodate spooning. Sooooo, because he's awesome, Shawn brought in our mattress and plopped it in front of the TV. And we snuggled. Because we are in love. It's sounds pretty much like the dorkiest thing ever, but it was fun. Apparently we were too lazy to move it back, so we kept it in our living room for a second night. Toby, albeit confused, was loving having a gigantic mattress in the middle of the floor almost as much as I did. So seriously, if you're totally bored with life, throw your mattress in another room. If for no other reason than to confuse the hell out of people. Spice up your life, yo.

3. I bought my first thinger of MODGE PODGE.

I'm not sure if you remember at all how not crafty I am. But Pinterest has me bound and more damn determined than ever to successfully complete a craft. (Well, Pinterest and Super Saturday. I finished a craft there, and it actually turned out significantly better than previous attempts have. But it's not time for me to reveal that masterpiece quite yet.) Anyways, I went to JoAnne's and perused the aisles, having not a clue in the world what I wanted to purchase. I found the Modge Podge, and aside from just simply sounding like an awesome thing to buy, I've read about it being used on about a gazillion things on Pinterest - so I bought it, thinking there had to be something I could use it for. And as fate would have it, there was.

Remember that absolutely horrendous Halloween party we threw last year? Well we had a butt ton of Halloween napkins leftover, that apparently I decided we should keep (because apparently my obsessive 'keep everything that we'll never use' disorder is not just limited to grocery bags.) We also had these two pumpkins that Shawn and I had bought because they were cute and small, and saved us a dollar on Coke. So I had napkins, Modge Podge (#bestwordever), and a pumpkin. You probably know where I'm going with this, and I'm 100% proud to say that I came up with the idea all. by. myself. (Googling it afterwards, I realized I wasn't the only craft genius... But nevertheless.) And here is my (albeit amateur) masterpiece!

Eeeeeeh?! I also apparently decided to bedazzle the crap out of the other pumpkin (an idea which may or may not have come from that one website.) Anyways, it's nothing that would land me my own talk show, but I'm still pretty proud of it.

4. My husband inherited a new nickname.

And it's HotPants. Go ahead, say it a few times. It's even funner to say than Modge Podge. Not that the back story is important, because HotPants is a bad ass pet name in any event. But, I got an email from Groupon Goods advertising a good deal they had on a product called HotPants. I looked into the website, where they made promises of losing "2 jean sizes in 2 weeks," and getting rid of cellulite, and all this other stuff that obviously sounded awesome. Apparently how HotPants work, is by making you sweat 80% more than you normally do when you work out. Which, if you're me, is already a disgusting, manly amount. And even though I hate sweating with the fiery passion of 489320483902 suns, I wanted HotPants. I immediately called my husband and launched into my argument of why I had to buy HotPants - making sure to say HotPants as much as humanly possible. Because the best part about owning a pair of HotPants, is being able to make it a part of your daily vocabulary. If you don't believe that I wouldn't, go ahead and count how many times I've already said HotPants in this paragraph. Yeah. Awesome. Aaaanyways, I knew that something as easy as putting on a pair of thick bike shorts wasn't going to lead to permanent weight loss. Which my dietetic guru friend confirmed, explaining the entire process of losing fat, and how the HotPants would only make me lose water weight... yadda yadda yadda. So I begrudgingly didn't buy a pair of HotPants. But I still needed to have an excuse to keep saying HotPants. Thus my husband's nickname was born. So if you're ever referring to my husband, he isn't Shawn, he's HotPants. He keeps telling me that it won't stick. But all good things take time.

/awesomepost

Wordless Wednesday: Chelsea Can Kind Of Cook Edition

2011-10-12T11:56:00.000-06:00

Cinnamon sugar pretzel bites & vanilla glaze. (The pretzels may or may not look as pretty as the picture online, but I pretty much couldn't care less. Because they taste like pretzels going down, and that's all that matters.)

I be bitchin' in the kitchen, yo.

This post brought to you by a word that rhymes with Flintersmest.

Free Time? I Have It.

2011-10-10T12:09:00.000-06:00

The other day I kept finding random fruit flies in pretty much every room I walked into. Which is not only disgusting, but extremely irritating. I had absolutely no idea where they were coming from. As I was explaining my theory of fruit flies evolving out of nothing to my husband, he opened the cupboard under our kitchen sink. And that's precisely when the whole freaking mother load of fruit flies decided to swarm our kitchen. Shawn pulled a bag of potatoes out and we new exactly where the fruit flies were coming from. (And yes, we are probably the only people in the entire world that keep potatoes under our sink. Go ahead and judge us.) I didn't completely lose it until Shawn handed me the bag of rotten, smelly, moldy, dripping bag of fruit fly potatoes. He wasn't wearing pants (what else is new?), so I had to run the bag out to the garbage. And yes, I drama queened it up the whole way to the garbage. Screaming and all. I'm sure I concerned our neighbors just a tad. Shawn may as well have handed me a damn grenade.

Anyways.

The next morning, I didn't have a car to go anywhere, so I decided I'd unearth the disaster underneath our kitchen sink. Because clearly we weren't paying enough attention down there.

Wait for it.

Right? No wonder we were breeding an army of tiny bitch flies down there.

I started emptying the cupboards, when I hit a goldmine that I'm 74% sure would land me right in the middle of an episode of Hoarders.

I think it's safe to say that there were at least 15 or so bags stuffed in each one of those bags. (Yes, we are bad people and don't use the eco-friendly bags for our groceries. Judge away.) I'm not at all certain why we've felt it necessary to stow away every single freakin' grocery bag we've ever possessed - besides using them as garbage bags in the bathroom and Toby poop bags. But nevertheless, I wanted more organization. (Because apparently I inherited the "Clean things that no will ever notice" trait from my lovely mother.) So I spent at least three hours turning this...

Into this....

Check me out! The fact that I spent such an effing long time doing grocery bag origami, is a little embarrassing. But the fact that it saves a BUTT ton of space, makes me feel less loser and more awesome. I happily reported to Shawn that I had been somewhat productive with my time off. (Because it's hard to feel completely productive when something so lame takes that long.) When he got home, I proudly opened the cupboard and told him to find what I had spent a majority of the day doing.

He gave me the most confused look ever and muttered, "It took you three hours to clean out the cupboard?" (Men. I don't think my eyes could have rolled any further into my cranium.) After pretending to be supremely offended, I told him to keep looking, and he finally found my Ziploc bag full of grocery bags. And he had no idea what they were. Which was precisely the moment I realized I had probably just wasted 4 hours of my day. When he finally figured out what they were, he shrugged and said, "Coooooool." At which point I went from this

To this...

In about 4.3 seconds.
(GIFs make life so much better.)

I blamed boredom and lack of a car for my random urge to fold 79 million grocery bags, at which point my husband informed me that I had the car the whole time. Apparently his brother had come and picked him up for work. I pretty much died right there in that moment.

The good news is that my cupboard is clean, and people who aren't members of Pinterest are going to think I'm freakin' Obi Wan of organizational skills.

The other good news is that I have a video of my husband battling fruit flies, half naked, with a spatula. Which I will show to you now.

(I was still semi traumatized from the bag of potatoes, which is what I'm going to blame for sounding so annoying in this video.)

I think we win the award for classiest family ever.

You are welcome.

Wordless Wednesday: Pet Peeve Edition

2011-10-05T10:39:00.000-06:00

I don't even need to explain why this is irritating.

I Have Good News. And I Have Bad News.

2011-10-03T17:57:00.000-06:00

Good News: We found out that the mystery leaf monsters gracing our surprise garden are going to turn into Calla Lilies. Who knew? I was totally hoping that the mystery plants were Elephant Ears. Because that's just awesome.

Bad News: The same guy who solved the leaf plant mystery, was also the same guy who quoted us $700 to fix our stupid garage - because it decided to be awesome and stop working completely. Which is apparently the new theme of my life.

Good News: I had a dream that I made out with a really popular male artist, and he totally wanted my trash.

Bad News: It was Justin Bieber. And I'm pretty sure that makes me a pedophile.

Good News: Monopoly at McDonald's is on. And you know, trying to win something you have 1 in 5793753849758439 chances of winning is totally invigorating. Kind of like Publisher's Clearinghouse, minus the weight gain and clogged arteries.

Bad News: We buy way more McDonald's, solely to get the Monopoly pieces. Example? Saturday I ate McDonald's for breakfast and dinner. And I'm 98% sure I spliced at least 7 years off my life expectancy as a result.

Good News: New Girl. Up All Night. Whitney. Modern Family. Raising Hope. Gossip Girl. Big Bang Theory.

Bad News: DVR enslavement aside, all these shows coupled with my obsession with winning Monopoly, well, the bad news is fairly self explanatory.

Good News: It is incredibly easy to get time off of my job.

Bad News: When you work at home, and someone offers you time off, you may or may not end up working a grand total of 3 of your 40 scheduled hours. And then your husband will secretly judge you when you end up not even getting paid, because you only made enough to pay for your health and dental insurance.

Completely Irrelevant News: Shawn would like the internet to know that the only reason he didn't put the salad away, is because it tasted like shi and knew no one was going to eat it. And to that I say...

Happy Monday, Internet.

A Few Pictures

2011-09-30T11:54:00.001-06:00

From my phone.

4 of which I took in the last 5 minutes.

Because all the awesome stuff is on my husband's phone.

Also? I published this a tad prematurely by accident. And that annoys me on so many different levels.

Moving on.

These Tootsie Rolls have been sitting in our candy dish for about two weeks now. Moral? Red trumps blue in flavor (and in football). Besides, who likes blue Tootsie Rolls anyways. Or blue anything for that matter? I'll take red flavor over blue flavor any day.

I'm pretty sure my dog is a ninja. Though his stealth mode could use some polishing.

High five for anyone who knows where these came from. Thank you, Pinterest. There's a butt ton of workout "pins". Some motivate me. Some depress me. And some I want to bitch slap. You know, the ones that say something to the effect of, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." Seriously? Have you ever had a Coconut Dream? I respectfully disagree. Anyways, I figured I'd give these workouts a go. I was going to start with the blue one, and when I Jedi Mastered it's ass, I'd move on to the white one. Well, don't worry that the first time I did the blue one, I didn't even make it to round 2. It was those damn burpees. (Which, by the way, burpee? The heeeeell? I had no idea what the heck those were until I YouTubed it.) My goal is to be able to be able to repeat the whole thing 3 times in a row without feeling like I'm going to die at the end. I feel like such a fat loser, because it winds the heck out of my every time, and it's like a 7 minute workout. I'll get there. Eventually.

Okay, remember that "garden" we planted? We got a bunch of random flowers from WalMart and planted them. Well everything has bloomed except these enormous leaf monsters. Does anyone know what the heck these things are supposed to turn into? I don't even remember what we planted anymore, obviously. But I certainly don't recall us planting huge LEAF PLANTS. I'm 94% sure they're going to grow into bean stalks. Also, just ignore my refined photography skills. And the weeds. Ignore those too.

I just sent this picture I took this morning to Shawn with the following text message, "Just wanted to let you know that I love you! Oh, and that I'm not the only one who leaves the salad out. :)" Am I a superb wife, or what? Bless that man for putting up with my pugnacious self. He wins in the end though, because he's married to a genius who knows words like pugnacious.

This is clearly not a picture off my phone, but nevertheless I'm super excited for General Conference this weekend. Even if you aren't a member of our faith, there are superb, uplifting messages to be shared with everyone. Check it out. You'll be glad you did!

Chelsea love you long time.

Thumb Ring, Bitch.

2011-09-28T21:16:00.001-06:00

So I officially haven't blogged for almost three weeks.

Not for a lack of anything interesting happening. Because believe you me, crap is going down.

However, any post-enhancing pictures/videos I have are all on my husband's iPhone. Since you know, he broke my camera and is an evil dictator who won't let me get my own iPhone. (And by evil dictator, I mean the best husband in the whole damn world.)

In the last several months or so, I've totally lost my blogging mojo. And it's not that I don't have time. Because I have plenty of that to go around.

But I'll kick myself into gear eventually. Then you can hear all about the biggest dodge ball game ever. And the circus. And all the tricks our evil dog knows now. And my hormonally imbalanced raging acne problems. Amongst other really interesting things.

Until then...

Peace and blessings, Internet.

Can't Touch This

2011-09-07T14:42:00.000-06:00

Bullet time!

-We managed to recover from our expensive weekend from Hell. The Jeep repair only ended up costing about $200. And normally I wouldn't say it only costed $200. But when you have a BMW that costs over $500 to repair every. single. time, it's a breath of fresh of air to see a car repair bill for only $200. We're still waiting for the final say on what exactly is wrong with Shawn's car. It's times like these where I'm glad I work from home, because with only one car, we'd be a tiny bit SOL.

-This last weekend I got hit with a super random cold, and ended up staying home while Shawn went and did who knows what with his buddies. Long story short, I watched the first episode of Pretty Little Liars, and now I can't stop watching it. Because apparently I'm still thirteen years old. The best part? Shawn started watching it with me, and he's totally sucked in too. And I'm sure he'll be thrilled that I announced that to the internet. He probably just watches it because he loves me, and knows I like to have someone to talk about stupid shows with. But it's funner to say that he's getting in touch with his inner tween girl and is secretly

enjoying it.

-The circus is coming this month. And I don't know if you remember. But I love the circus. I don't even care if you judge me. It's awesome.

-I finally have weekends off. And it is the best feeling ever.

-My Words With Friends on my iPod is on the fritz. It won't let me log on to finish my GAMES. Luckily I discovered that I can play on my Facebook. SO, if we were in the middle of a game about a month ago, I promise I didn't just stop because I got bored. Because honestly, I love nothing more than to win that game. Especially against people I know are cheating.

-I started clipping coupons, and honestly, I feel like it's kind of a huge waste of time. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. But I feel like coupons either make you buy something you don't usually buy to get a discount, or buy 5 of something you usually only buy 1 of to get a discount. So I suppose in the long run it adds up. But I'm certainly not that patient. However, I'll still clip coupons. Because I love pretending to be frugal. And sometimes I secretly love being the annoying broad who whips out 473 coupons and makes everyone wait 5 extra minutes in line.

-I finally got a passport. And setting aside the fact that my picture makes me look like I'm 900 pounds, I'm super excited about it. The first place I'll probably use it is on our Carribean CRUISE in January. Yahtzee!

Aaaaand, I'm drawing a blank.

So, yeah.

Lost Your Contact Lense Case/Holder/Thinger? FEAR NOT.

2011-08-31T10:51:00.002-06:00

If you have a drawer full of 8,476 measuring spoons, your contacts are safe.

And that, is husband innovation at it's finest.

5 Perfectly Valid Reasons

2011-08-30T16:07:00.001-06:00

This last weekend mostly sucked balls.

Reason 1

So there I was, working from the comfort of my own home when all of a sudden I hear a super high pitched humming sound coming from somewhere in our house. Being on a call, I couldn't just tell the customer, "I'm pretty sure my house is going to blow up in 5 seconds, please hold." So I finished the call and went outside my office and smelled something burning. Great. The noise stopped for a minute, but then came back even louder. I finally try turning off the AC, and the noise stops. Bingo. Turns out the motor on our 6 year old furnace decided to bite the dust. Which is just great, when you live in a desert, in the beating hot middle of the damn summer. I do absolutely terrible in heat. Sweat is not my friend. And when I'm sweating like a hooker in the Cistine Chapel in my own home, I whine. Like a 2 year old. Especially when I'm drugged up on lady hormone pills. Let me tell you, menopause-like hot flashes in 90 degree house weather does not equal anything pleasant. For anyone. Ever.

Long story short, it took a whopping $600 to fix our AC. Because, you know, we have 600 dollars just laying around.

Reason 2

The stupid, blasted, $#@$#@%@$@$#@$#@%#$ Hurricane Irene. Yeah, I live in Utah. I didn't have to deal with the actual weather (and I sincerely hope everyone that DID have to deal with the weather, is okay), but working for an airline, I had to deal with every single pompous jackass who was sure that they were entitled to more than we could offer them. We cancelled flights for three days, and when you have to tell people that they can't fly home for another week due to all the flights already being full, people go batshit crazy. I know these people need to get home, I understand it's super frustrating. But if I don't have a seat on a plane to put you on, there's nothing I can do. So many people think that we can just pull magic wands out our ass to create a seat for them. Or that because they have jobs, and school, and super important things to attend to - they should have priority over everyone else. NEWSFLASH: Everyone else is trying to get home for the same. exact. reasons. I would literally shake during certain calls, where I had to just sit there and listen to people telling me to screw myself, and other fun things. And apparently I'm still bitter.

So between hundreds of customers screaming at me, telling me that I've personally destroyed their life, and the mandatory overtime I've had to work over the weekend - needless to say, there have been tears. And lots of swear words.

Reason 3

My Jeep starting making this weird clicking noise whenever I'd accelerate. And obviously something is wrong with it. I took it in somewhere to get a code pulled, to see if that would tell us what was wrong with it. And the guy was basically a huge incompetent moron, and said he didn't know what it was. So when we came to pick the Jeep back up, Shawn's car overheated. Keep in mind, this is happening the same day our AC went out.

Shawn takes his car to get looked at, they tell him it has something to do with his thermostat. And since it's a BMW thermostat, it instantly costs 32904832904832904823904 dollars more. Or $500, if we're being honest. I fully expected the part to plated top to bottom in gold. They finally call us back on Monday and tell us they've installed the new thermostat, and his car is still overheating. Soooo, you just charged us out our ass for a new thermostat that we didn't even need? Solid job, Firestone.

So we still haven't gotten the Jeep looked at, because it's in better condition than the BMW currently. And now we have to take Shawn's car somewhere else to find out what kind of ungodly amount of cash we'll have to pay for that repair.

Reason 4

Before any of this happened, Shawn had secretly planned out this super romantic weekend for us. There wasn't anything special to celebrate, he just wanted to do it because he's the best husband in the history of ever. He had a room booked at Anniversary Inn, massage appointments made, and we were going to go watch Tangled up at the Capitol "under the stars." We ended up having to cancel the massage appointment because the AC guy was still at our house. I gave them my sob story, and luckily they let us switch it to later that night. We go get our massages and decide to run to Wendy's to get some food, and then try to watch maybe the tail-end of Tangled.

So we walk into Wendy's and there's about 749 volleyball players in line. So we decide to just go through the drive through. While we were waiting, I decided it would be fun to play Farkle (the overly-addicting dice game). Shawn was paying attention to the dice and accidentally let off the brake pedal just enough that he rear ended the person in front of us. Because apparently we hadn't had enough curve balls for one day.

Luckily it was only some minor scratches, and the woman was totally nice about it. But it was enough send my poor husband completely over the edge. On top of that, by the time we finally got to the Capitol, everyone was leaving.

Reason 5

My fifth reason is going to be the "mostly" part of our absolutely turd luck weekend. Because even though most of it sucked royal ass, it wasn't all bad. We stayed in the Jungle Safari room at the Anniversary Inn, and the shower was an elephant! Best. kindofmostawkward. shower ever. Once we got over the shock of just how bad our day was, we were able to enjoy ourselves at the hotel. At this point, we can actually look back and laugh at it. Because seriously? Who has that bad of luck, all in one day. I like to think of it as a good test of our relationship, to see how we'd cope with all the crap life threw at us. And I think we did a pretty damn good job of handling it. GOLD STAR for Team Milne! And we definitely noticed the Lord's tender mercies along the way. All the overtime I had to work, is definitely going to help out our bank account. And we had some money leftover from Shawn's school loan that we could have used if we absolutely needed to. And even though Shawn thinks his plans went all wrong. I think that fun overnight stay couldn't have happened at any better time.

And also? We have a 4 in 2 billion chance of winning $5,000 dollars a week for the rest of our lives on Wednesday from Publisher's Clearinghouse. Our fortunes from Panda Express have us convinced we're going to win. Because, hello, that's likely. Besides, who am I to argue with Panda Express?

Anyways. Basically, our weekend sucked - but it could have been totally worse. We survived. And all signs point to winning millions of dollars. So I suppose we can't really complain.

Stay tuned.

Google, FTW.

2011-08-23T19:21:00.000-06:00

Yes, that is 1,224 separate hits for some form of 'munchkin cat'.

Just in case you needed to feel better about the lame things you Google.

5 Completely Valid Reasons

2011-08-22T17:42:00.000-06:00

I will never participate in a (legitimate) beauty pageant.

About a week ago, one of my friends asked if I'd go with her to a local beauty pageant her friend was participating in. Now I'm not huge on the whole world of pageants, but who am I to decline a night of judging a bunch of girls competing for a crown? (Literally, I scored them all on a scale of 1-10 on my program for each category. I'm legit, yo. Or really lame. Whatever. The program was about 1,847 hours long. I had to keep myself interested somehow.) Anyways, I've always told this friend I went with, that the only way I'd ever participate in a beauty pageant was to improve someone else's chances of winning. I have nothing against women who are into competing in pageants, it's just not my thing. At all.

And this is why.

Reason 1: Evening Wear

Any evening wear I still own consists of a prom dress, and my wedding dress. I'm fairly certain I don't even fit into the prom dress anymore, and although my wedding dress is bitchin', I can't imagine that's what they're going for. The one and only "pageant" I've ever participated in was one a fraternity was putting on, so they could select their "Mu 8 Cow Woman" for the year. (And now that I look back on it, sounds more like a fat joke than anything.) Anyways, they told us all we needed to be dressed in evening wear for the "pageant". So, of course, wanting to impress the men of Mu, I showed up in my evening best.

Yeah. That happened.

Because obviously evening wear encompasses anything comfortable enough to sleep in.

Reason 2: Talent

If you don't sing, dance, or play the piano like mother freakin' Beethoven - you probably don't have any talents. I kid. But that is pretty much all I've ever seen at the pageants I've been to, with a few exceptions. While some girls are stellar performers, the other are... well... not. I can honestly say I don't have any talents that would score me a crown. Well, any appropriate talents anyway. For the fraternity pageant, I went with poetry as my talent. Self-created poetry, because I'm hard core. Oh? You want to read the poem I wrote? OKAY!

Roses are red

Mu is so neat

Being here with yo, is simply a treat

All of you guys are such handsome young fellas

Any other dude ought to be extremely jealous

For this fraternity is blessed with charm and good looks

The type of men that we only read of in books

I mean, seriously guys, take a big look around

All these girls lined up, in hopes to be your crowned

But alas, only one will earn the right

To be named Mu's 8 Cow Woman on this very night

But who will you choose? It should be a wise decision

One made with much insight, common sense, and precision

The chosen girl must be crazy, and fun, though not too weird

She should be smart, and confident, but definitely not feared

Now I'll give you some advice, and I think you'll agree

That clearly the best choice, is the one and only me

For I am all of the above mentioned features

I'm definitely one of a kind out of all of God's creatures

I'll try to make you laugh til you pee in your pants

I'm caring and thoughtful and I know how to dance

Life gave you a lemon, baby I'm your lemonade

I'm the queen to your castle, the ace to your spade

And if you don't end up choosing me, that's just fine

Because I'm not worth eight cows, I'm worth nine.

Pretty superb poetry, amiright? However something tells me my poems might not fly in an actual pageant environment. Their loss, my poems are far more entertaining than watching a handful of girls pretend they can sing and dance well. Or maybe not. My whole idea of "talent" has been completely tainted by the likes of shows like America's Got Talent and So You Think You Can Dance.

Reason 3: Swimsuit Competition

If there is one thing that gives me nightmares, it's the thought of ever having to do any sort of swimsuit competition. I can barely get in a swimsuit in the comfort of my own home without having a complete meltdown. Add in a pair of high heels and every ounce of bare skin jiggles when you walk. Even the girl who looks like she hasn't eaten for 7 months jiggles. It'd be like the damn Macy's Day Parade gone terribly, terribly awry if I were to ever prance across a stage half naked in heels. Sort of makes me want to throw up a little just thinking about it. The only way I'd ever compete in a swimsuit is if I could wear a full body suit, complete with flippers. But I've been informed that is now against the rules. Props to the chick who is the reason that rule is in place.

Reason 4: Interview Question

If there's any part of a pageant where I have the most respect for the girls competing, it's during the interview questions. Some of those questions are hard. At least for people like me, who barely have a surface knowledge of current government events. I notice that most the girls more or less just repeat the question in answer form when they don't have a good answer. I'm not even sure I'd be able to spit that out. I'm pretty certain I'd wet myself a little and crack an inappropriate joke. My favorite part of watching this portion of the competition, is that couple seconds after the question has been read, the look on the girl's faces who have no idea what the answer is. Talk about crapping a small brick.

Reason 5: Eligibility

So, I'm married. And apparently that's an instant disqualifier in pageant world. Darn.

So basically in a nut shell, I don't think I could take the pageant seriously enough to have any sort of competitive edge. Which is fine, there are plenty more women who deserve a crown much more than I do.

Oh, and also?

Turns out a personality was all I needed to get a crown in my pageant.

You know that's right.

You Know Your Husband Loves You When

2011-08-20T23:38:00.001-06:00

He secretly changes your laptop wallpaper...

....to the sexiest super hero in the history of ever.

Rawr.

The Grand Finale of My {Super Awesome} Wedding Video

2011-08-08T11:22:00.000-06:00

Surprise! Still not done. For whatever reason, the last part of our video was in some random arse format that we couldn't splice in Windows Movie Maker. I was so close to just getting my own video camera and video taping it on our TV from the couch - that's how much I wanted you to see it. Brushing aside the fact that my husband thought it was the lamest idea in the history of ever. What does he know anyway. (Love you tons, husband.) So the other day I was farting around on the internet, as per usual, and found a free trial of a DVD ripper that claimed to be able to convert the certain format this video was in, to the right format. The only problem is that there is an annoying watermark right in the middle of the video the whole time (you know, because of the free trial and everything). I wasn't really in the mood to pay 40 bucks to get rid of a watermark, so you're pretty much just going to have to deal with it.

This is one of my favorite parts of the video, because it has our awesome dance in it. Because honestly, do you think we're really the type of people who just slow danced and bored the life out of everyone for 4 and a half minutes? Yeah, not so much. Needless to say, our guests were thoroughly entertained. (The whole dance isn't in there, but I promise you'll get the gist. We have a video of the whole thing - but the audio is pretty much terrible.)

If you managed to miss the first six, yes six, installments of our kick ass video - follow ze links below!

Part 1 - How We Met

Part 2 & 3 - First Kiss & Proposal

Part 4 - Wedding Day

Part 5 - Wedding Reception

Part 6 - Pictures @ the Temple

Enjoy!

(PS - I love that YouTube stop framed it on my Quiet Coyote. Snort.)

Theeeeeee end!

Super awesome, right?

Oh, Husband.

2011-08-01T20:07:00.000-06:00

Today as I filled out our monthly calendar, I asked my husband if he could think of anything I was forgetting. Without hesitation, he took my marker, and I came back and found this...

Ah, men. So endearing.

July is Really Exciting. Obviously.

2011-07-27T14:56:00.000-06:00

Due to a lack of anything even remotely blog-worthy happening in my life, I obviously haven't felt very motivated to post anything. But because I've got an hour to kill, don't feel like cleaning, and have apparently given up on showering altogether - here you have it.

-The other day my husband found a tick in the shower. Which is what every wife loves to hear, really. However, instead of flushing it down the toilet - my husband did what any genius would do, and put it in a cup with plastic wrap over the top. I was 89% asleep when he told me about it, or else I would have probably brought to his attention that if a tick can burrow it's way into skin, ain't nothing gonna stop that little bitch from escaping plastic wrap. And naturally, the next morning, I walked into the kitchen and saw a nice big hole in the plastic wrap where the tick had escaped. So now I'm almost about 68% sure I'm going to contract Lyme disease.

-I'm about 93% sure we're going on a cruise in January with Shawn's family. And my father in law is going halfsies. Yahtzee.

-We apparently have a 5 year high school reunion in August, which I couldn't be any more unexcited about. I can't decide which is worse, having to have the same exact awkward conversation with 200 people you never really talked with much to begin with (you know the one - "What's new?" "Oh, you know, school and work." Every. single. time.) or knowing that I'll be on the list of people who have gotten fat since high school. I still see the people from high school I care to see on a fairly consistent basis - with the exception of a handful of people. I suppose I just feel like everything I need to know about everyone else I've seen on Facebook or read on blogs. Does that make me a totally sucky person?

-Is anyone watching America's Got Talent? We started watching it, and I love it. My favorite guy? Landau Eugene Murphy, Jr. Seriously, I love him. I voted for him ten times last night. And normally I don't take the time to actually vote for stuff like that. He's pretty legit, and seems like such a down to earth sweet guy. And if you haven't seen him, watch this.

Don't you just want to be buddies with him?!

-One of Shawn's pet peeves is that I put all our gross brown bananas in the freezer. The other day he was making fun of the fact we had a stash of a dozen nasty bananas in our freezer. So I bucked up and made 6 loaves of banana bread. And I nailed it. Moral of the story? Keep brown bananas. Even if your husband mocks you. And also? I can cook.

-I was told during training for my current job that I should expect to work weekends for at least the first two years before I'd be able to get them off. We just bid for new shifts that are scheduled to start at the end of August. And guess who got weekends off? ME. I pretty much feel like a Jedi Master.

-Back in March, the husband and I took a fun-filled trip to the dentist. Beforehand, I had called to make sure that we'd be covered with the insurance I had. She told me they accepted that particular type of insurance. Great. She put in all our information, had us pay a $50 copay and we were off. About 4 days ago I received a bill in the mail for a whopping 400 and something dollars, with a post it note that said, "You had the HMO, we only accept the PPO plan." The hell? Am I completely off base for thinking it's totally unfair that we have to pay that now, after she told me we would be covered? And it's my husband's family dentist that they've been going to since the beginning of time - so I don't want to show up and rip them a new one. But seriously.

-I think I'm going through menopause. I was at the in law's house the other day, playing a heated game of Phase 10. And it felt like it was 9,000,000 degrees in their house. Everyone else felt fine, of course. My favorite part was when my mother in law blurted out, "Maybe you're OH-VULATING!!!" Pretty amusing. Thank you, for that.

-I have a new "calling" in our ward. I was the Assistant Humanitarian something or other - you know, one of those callings that you're not actually set apart for, but they give you just to make you feel better? Well, the main lady apparently moved, and I got a call from the Relief Society president asking if I'd like to take her place. And obviously I couldn't say no. So I get the box full of humanitarian ~~crap~~ stuff, and sort through everything. We were going to be finishing up some file folder games for our activity that month. I made flyers. I bought Coconut Dreams. I bought a chocolate mousse pie thing. I bought sherbet ice cream and Sprite for drinks. I melted chocolate, and bought strawberries. 3 people showed up. Three. I was a little bit frustrated, but extremely glad that my husband stayed with me and helped us finish. (And by finish, I mean, we didn't finish, because there were four of us, and 907 million file folders.) Moral of the story? If there's a Humanitarian Activity, go. Also? Husbands, if you hang out with Relief Society ladies so your wife doesn't go crazy, you will get some.

-I get my flight benefits with other airlines starting in September. And just in case you aren't grasping the full meaning of that particular milestone, it means I can take a round trip flight to Sydney, Australia for 175 bucks. Boom baby. I also get a raise in September. September is going to be a swell month, I can just feel it.

And on that note, I should probably go re-discover the art of showering.

Until next time.

My Husband = BAMF

2011-07-19T21:49:00.001-06:00

Remember when my husband mauled his ankle?

Well obviously that wasn't going to keep him from the annual 4th of July 5k a few days later. Oh, no.

It's only kind of humiliating that he still finished faster than I would have (which sure, isn't saying much - he probably would have finished faster even if had he been pushing himself, but still.)

I'm sure the crap ton of people that Shawn and his older brother passed during the 5k wanted to punch both of them in the face. No one likes losing a race to a dude in a wheelchair.

However, if it's any consolation to those people - he still has a mean case of perma-cankle.

My husband is a hunk.

Perma-cankle and all.

Anxiety Issues Much, Toby?

2011-07-13T16:54:00.000-06:00

And people tell me I'm not ready for the messes kids create. Last I checked, 1 year old children chewing through baseboards wasn't too common. Just saying.

Bring on the disasters. Anything a kid could potentially ruin, I can just about guarantee you my dog would ruin it eleventy billion times worse.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go find where the mysterious dog urine smell is coming from.

Because my life is awesome like that.

Munchkin Cat

2011-07-02T22:04:00.000-06:00

Our Friday night started with a little good-natured basketball game.

As the game was winding up a couple hours later, the boys thought it would be fun to play tackle basketball. (Gold star if you know where this post is going.)

As I sat and watched my husband sprint down the court, I leaned over to the girl sitting next to me and said, "Someone is going to get hurt." I also apparently failed to knock on wood as I said it - as about T minus 15 seconds later my husband was writhing in pain on the gym floor.

I ran over to him to make sure he was okay, because I wasn't really sure what exactly had happened (wife points). I knew it was bad when I heard him dropping some choice expletives in between his groaning and punching the floor. Did I mention we were in a church gym?

Anyways, apparently he had jumped and then landed on someone's foot, obviously rolling his ankle in the worst way.

He took of his shoe and this is what we saw...

Only kind of nasty.

In the midst of all of it, I kept hearing things like "Class 3 sprain," "...he needs to go to the hospital....", "I was on crutches for three weeks when my foot looked like that" from everyone around us. So naturally I started to panic just a little bit.

We got into the Jeep and drove to the local emergency room, where we then waited for about 17 years to see a doctor. Shawn was surprisingly chipper after the initial 5-10 minutes following his fall (where I would have been drama queening the shiiiii out of the situation, had it been me). By the time we got to the triage nurse, his pain was only a 1 or a 2. But me being the overly paranoid person I am, told him we had to stay to make sure nothing was fractured. Even if it meant paying ungodly amounts of money for x-rays and ER copays.

Our friends finally left, while we were waiting for a room for Shawn. He and I apparently had a severe case of the slap happies, because we were cracking up at everything. Which I'm sure irritated more than enough people in the waiting room, who all looked absolutely miserable. Which makes sense, I suppose. The ER doesn't exactly scream rainbows and puppy dogs.

We finally got called back to a room. And my favorite part was walking past all the empty rooms. Good thing we waited for 97.2 hours for room 48. I don't think we could have accepted any of the other rooms. We then waited in the room for another 20 minutes, and watched about 4 different nurses walk in and take crap out of our room. As we continued to wait, we came up with the funniest diagnoses we could for what was wrong with his ankle. As well as how we think the hospital staff would react to us making use of the empty bed in the room. That was all probably more of a youhadtobethere kind of funny... So we'll just move right along.

The doctor finally got there, talked to him for 2 minutes, then took him to get x-rays. After waiting for 15 more minutes, the doctor came back to inform us that his ankle wasn't fractured and that he just needed to stay off it for a few days and he would be back to about normal in 7-10 days.

...

Anti climactic, much?

My favorite part was when Shawn turned to the doctor and said, "So, what are the chances I can run a 5K on Monday?" The doctor, missing every ounce of sarcasm that oozed out of my husbands mouth, just glared at him and replied, "No, that's not going to happen." Easy, sunshine.

He handed us an Ace bandage and a pair of socks - and naturally I commented on how it was the most expensive pair of socks in the history of ever. Not even a kind of smile.

(I've worked in an ER, and I totally get that it's stressful and depressing and whatever. But if you have a happy patient, is it super hard to lighten up just a teensy bit? Sheesh.)

All that said, I'm really happy it was nothing worse than a sprain - because Shawn doesn't do so well with sitting around doing nothing. However, he's got himself a nice pair of gimp sticks and is doing just fine for now. And it may sound totally weird, but I totally love him even more after this weekend. Not because we were faced with a life or death ankle sprain or anything - but simply because of his attitude about the whole thing. He was so happy the entire time, and even though I hated seeing him hurt - I loved every second I spent with him. Just one more reason I hope our kids take more after him, or else we're gonna have a bunch of pansy children.

Hope your weekend was bodacious.

(And you can thank the gimp for that fun adjective.)

Also?

If Toby were a cat, tell me he wouldn't look strikingly similar to this...

Munchkin cats?! Who knew?!

You are welcome for that random jewel.

There's More Bounce in California.

2011-06-29T13:59:00.000-06:00

So this past weekend husband and I decided to take advantage of our flight benefits and head over to Long Beach, California. We were originally planning to go to Florida, but with all the premenstrual weather happening on the East coast, our chances of getting on a plane were about as good as the chances my bras have against Toby.

So we threw all our crap into a couple of suitcases and we were off! We were able to rent a car because Hertz was doing a deal where they would waive the (incredible overpriced) underage fees. (Just when we though 21 was the magical age. Eff.) We got ourselves a super sleek, sexy Chevy Aveo. I made Shawn the "designated driver" and proceeded to make fun of him for driving a girl car around California. And that, my friends, is straight out of the How To Be An Excellent Wife handbook.

We stayed at a Holiday Inn, nothing too fancy - but it served it's purpose well. After we got settled in, it was around 8ish PM, so we decided to go exploring. We found this totally random street that was chuck full of college age students roaming the streets hanging out at the bars, other little shops, and eating food set up on a bunch of random tables throughout the street. It was the most random street in the history of ever, I swear. All the houses around the street were full of younger people as well, people were sitting around fires in their front yard, playing with their dogs, and sometimes we could see straight into the windows where a bunch of people were hanging out. Funnest. neighborhood. ever. Shawn has a little video on his phone while we were walking down the street, so if I figure out a way to put it on here, I will.

We decided to be really exciting and get tickets to go on the Let's Make A Deal game show with Wayne Brady the next day. Fun, right?! (Not to mention, totally free.) I had my chicken costume (oh, yeah) but we didn't really have anything for Shawn - we tried going to few stores but everything was starting to close. We ended up in some huge costume store in Hollywood the next day where we purchased a 70 dollar hippie costume for Shawn. That was about as low-end as we could get, next to slapping a diaper and binky on him. Apparently he wanted to maintain a sliver of dignity. Which is probably a good thing, because any pride I had went out the window the second I got out of the car and walked down the streets of Hollywood in a chicken suit. And I'm just going to tell you now that I don't have any pictures. Which super sucks - but we were in such a hurry, and weren't allowed to bring phones, or cameras, or anything into the studio. I was so exhausted afterwards, that I totally forgot to hurry and snap a quick picture. Oh well. Perhaps we'll recreate it it some time.

We found where we were supposed to be lined up, which wasn't really very hard, because everyone in line looked just as ridiculous as we did. We ended up standing in line and waiting for about 3ish hours. And I'd just like to remind you that I was in a chicken suit, in the middle of the afternoon, in California. You do the math. We finally got into the air conditioned studio where we got a seat right in the front and right behind where Wayne Brady does all his deals. So yes, my big ass chicken self is in about 80% of all the freakin' shots - at least that's what it felt like. Every time I looked up at the TVs, it was either Shawn or I in the background. Which is mostly hilarious and awesome - and only semi-depressing, because I was sweating like a damn pig the entire time. We didn't get picked for any deals - which kind of sucked. But it was still WAAAAAAAAAY fun! I highly suggest it to anyone that is around the L.A. area. Every time they took a break the crowd just turned into a huge dance party. It. was. awesome. Would it have been even more awesome to win 25,000 dollars? Sure. But we still had a fabulous time! They weren't sure when that particular episode was going to air, but my guess is sometime in October or November. Ya'll know I'll tell you the second I know - and then remind you every day to watch it. So even though I don't have pictures right now, you will get more than enough when the show airs. Promise.

I was so exhausted afterwards from all the dancing, screaming, and clapping (seriously, try clapping for an hour and a half straight - and tell me how your hands feel afterwards) so we drove back to our hotel and relaxed. The rest of the weekend didn't consist of much else, except soaking up the sun at the beach... Turns out that anything much beyond that is really expensive! The beach felt really nice though. You know, until a seagull took a pretty little dump ALL. OVER. ME. Not even kidding. I don't know what I did to piss off that particular seagull, but there was crap on my legs, shorts, and swimsuit. Super disgusting, I know. I gotta hand it to him though, if I were a seagull, I'd probably do the same thing. Go around and steal everyone's food, then shi all over the most unsuspecting people. That has got to be a rockin' good time for seagulls.

There were a few things that Utah has that California doesn't...

-Clean, spacious freeways.
-BBQ chicken pizza from Pizza Hut (California "don't have no BBQ chicken pizza" apparently. True story.)
-Subways that accept Subway cards (Shawn handed the dude his Subway card to get some points and the guy was like, "Uh, so, what is this for?" Seriously?)
-Potty trained seagulls.

But seriously, we had a really good time. It was really relaxing and nice to get away. We almost didn't make it back on the flight for the way home - but the Standby Gods were watching out for us and we just barely made it on. WOO.

I realize this post is totally lacking pictures and videos - and well, a general lack of amusement or humor... But I can't find my video camera, my husband isn't sending me the video from his phone, I work in 3 minutes, and I think you guys will survive!

That said, HAPPY WEDNESDAY YAAAAAA'LL.

Go Ahead, Pick Your Own Title.

2011-06-22T20:49:00.000-06:00

Reason #73 Why You Should Buy a Cat Instead of a Dog

Reason #98 Why You Should Buy Your Bras at Wal Mart

Reason #11 Why Throwing Underwear on the Floor Midst Throes of Passion is Not an Option.

Reason #173,987,542 Why I Should Sell my Douche Waffle Dog to the Circus

The strap? Seriously? What dog goes for the strap over the lace?

Oh, wait.

The ones who eat wedding shoes, blinds, and used feminine hygiene products.

Sometimes my dog is about as useless as my bra.

Birthdays, Fish Cupcakes, and Ugly Ass Pants

2011-06-18T15:18:00.000-06:00

It's been a crazy week, Internet. I've sat down about 84 times to recap some of my days, only to get sidetracked by Toby destroying something, my husband running around the house without pants, or any number of riveting reality television shows. In any event, the dog is outside, and my husband... well, I don't really know where he is. But let's just hope he's wearing pants. Anyways, I have a little bit of time for a few bullets. Rejoice.

-Toby had a birthday on Wednesday. Since we were "saving money", we didn't really purchase anything for him - but rather gave him a stuffed animal we won at a game at Lagoon. And when I say "won", I mean we essentially just paid the guy ten dollars for a stuffed animal. (Which is ridiculous, I know. But in the grand scheme of things, I wasn't going to walk out of there without a prize, because I like winning. And paying $10 for a for sure prize as opposed to paying $30 and possibly not getting anything - sounds better to me.)

Here it is.

Toby de-stuffed it in about 2.7 seconds.

-My lovely mother had a birthday the same day (Happy Birthday, Mom. WEE.). Which also happened to be the day that my little brother left on his mission. And I also was working all day. But we went to a movie with her and my dad, Midnight in Paris. It was pretty good - except that I didn't understand 87% of the historical references. Shawn and I also managed to sneak in about 9 boxes of candy in the back of his shirt. We are Jedi masters of sneaking crap into theaters, yo. (I suppose I come by it honestly. My mother has been knows to sneak pizza boxes and gallons of milk into theaters. True story.)

-I mowed our back lawn. And found two dead birds. Apparently Toby has been channeling his inner cat. And it seriously grosses me out.

-Christian (brother on a mission) spoke in church this last Sunday prior to him leaving. Afterwards, we had a crap ton of people over at my parent's house eating food. My mom had asked us to bring cupcakes, which is simple enough. But I decided I wanted to have awesome cupcakes a la Thanksgiving 2010. So they didn't really turn out that awesome. And I was impressed with them until people started asking what was with the fish cupcakes.

C'mon people. Why the hell would I make fish cupcakes for a mission farewell. I do see how people might think it's a fish if they were looking at it from a different angle. But it's a tie and a badge, you know, like missionaries wear.

I didn't think it was a terribly huge stretch. But oh well. We also made cupcakes with the New Mexico flag on it. Which isn't really as hard as it might sound when you see the flag...

Yeah. Yellow frosting + that stringy licorice stuff. Bam. New Mexico cupcakes. (I didn't get any pictures of those, because I was too busy screaming at everyone who thought there were fish on my cupcakes.) Anyways. Everything went well - and we came home and I opened the fridge and found this...

Apparently I was mistaken when I thought we had frosted the 8,934 dozen cupcakes we had made. This on top of all the freakin' cupcakes we brought home too. I realize that I'm now complaining about having too many cupcakes. Apparently my life is super hard. (Cue giant collective eye roll.)

-We went to TJ Maxx and found the most odd pair of pants in the history of pants.

Why would anyone want that on their ass? Well, besides my husband, who squealed like a school girl when he saw them.

Anyways, I start my shift in about 30 seconds - so I had better get going.

Chelsea love you long time.

Chelsea's 10 Easy Steps to Saving Money

2011-06-13T17:57:00.001-06:00

Step One: Lose your purse. (Preferably after you've "lost" several other items over the past few days, including but not limited to your keys, a jump drive, and your favorite jewelry. Because you've magically aged 83 years in two days.)

Step Two: Call everyone you know at an ungodly hour in the morning and ask if they've seen it anywhere.

Step Three: Cry, when not a single person knows where it is and all efforts of locating your purse are 100% fruitless. (Also because you're tired and Aunt Flo is having a battle royale with your uterus.)

Step Four: Check your car for the 53rd time. Just in case.

Step Five: Turn on your selective hearing and ignore your husband when he suggests where it might be.

Step Six: Automatically assume the absolute worst and call the credit card company to cancel all your debit/credit cards and pin number.

Step Seven: Cry.

Step Eight: Start creating a police report online (because apparently that's a thing now) even though you know it won't do a dang thing.

Step Nine: Shrivel up and die a little bit when your husband walks in the room mid-police report and informs you that you left your purse at your in-law's house when you were there for a grand total of 8 minutes earlier that night.

Step Ten: Cry. Either because you're happy that your purse wasn't stolen, or because you're pretty sure you're losing your mind. Or all of the above, because during this time of the month, you can.

Voila! Now you have your purse, but can't use any of your credit cards or access your bank account for at least the next 4 days. Money saved. Genius. Pure genius.

You're welcome.

Before and After of Our New Home!

2011-06-09T15:23:00.000-06:00

So when I said I'd have a video of our new house soon the other day - I wasn't lying. I even edited it for you. (Mostly because I after cleaning my house so many times, I have virtually nothing left to do except crafts. And we all know the likelihood of that actually happening.)

So, a few things to mention before hand. There is a before video and an after video. Then before/after pictures at the end for those of you who have nothing better to do, or who want to skip both the videos and cut to the chase (if that's the case, skip to around 14:52). So as you can imagine, it's a rather long-winded video.

I realized after spending an hour and a half uploading the video that I left a little mistake in there during the picture portion, and if you watch it, you'll definitely see it. It wasn't worth going back and fixing, so I just left it in there. Don't judge me.

Anyways, without further ado - I give you the Before and After of our first home!

A bit of a step up from our apartment, eh?

Anyways, if you watched the whole thing - you win.

If not, eh, I don't really blame you.

Shalom, Internet

If you never hear from me again, this is why.

2011-06-08T14:43:00.000-06:00

Today when I look out my window I see a less blue version of this:

Looks normal, right?

Except for there's a dude in that car. And he's been sitting there for a good hour. This isn't the first time it's happened either. Apparently it's a popular thing in our neighborhood to park across from our house and hang out in your car. Creepy much?

Normally I'd say, oh, they're probably there for the house across the street. Except if that were the case why would they be parked on the side of their house. Not to mention that no one lives in that house.

The dude is just sitting there looking at a bunch of papers and running his fingers through what hair he has left on his head - which I suppose is better than him sitting there doing nothing, and/or staring at my house.

But still. Go to McDonald's or a gas station or your house and read your papers. Don't park your creepy ass in front of someone's house and hang out for an hour or two.

I think the fact that I'm home alone, and bored out of my mind probably doesn't help the stories my imagination is coming up with of a balding man axing the shit out of my door and slaughtering me and my dog.

Now obviously that won't happen. But I can assure you I will not be showering until my husband gets home. Because if scary movies have taught me anything, it's that nothing good ever happens in the shower. Especially when there are creepy, balding men camped out in front of your house.

May your Wednesday be less boring and creepy than my Wednesday.

Pinterest, Face Wands, and Winning Credit Scores

2011-06-07T10:03:00.000-06:00

So I've started about 700 different blog posts and never end up finishing them because I get bored of them after 6.3 seconds. Which is why we're going bullet style today.

-I finally joined the whole Pinterest bandwagon. It's cool and everything, but I'm not sure that I find enough cool crap on the internet to merit me "pinning" something myself. So now I find myself looking for pinnable stuff online, simply because I have a grand total of 3 "pins" and it makes me feel like a failure.

-I finally had a dream that I had a baby (well twins, actually) and they didn't die. And I think I was more upset waking up from that dream, than the dead baby dreams because the twins were so dang cute and I wanted to keep them.

-Working from home is pretty great. However one drawback is that I sometimes may or may not shower for a few days. On the days I work, I usually roll out of bed, brush my teeth, wash my face and go to my office. By the time I get off 10 hours later, it seems almost pointless to shower. Don't even judge me.

-I called our bank to add Shawn to my credit card that I've had for a while - and found out that our credit scores are stellar, and that makes me all too pleased. On the other hand, however, we've hit an all-time low in our checking account. Turns out 800 dollars worth of car repairs and a house payment will do that.

-We bought season passes to Lagoon (an amusement park in Utah) again - and while Lagoon isn't really my favorite place in the entire world, I don't particularly feel like being the chump that stays at home because roller coasters bring out the 80 year old in me.

-One of my lovely blogger friends (oh yeah, I have those) wrote a post reviewing the Clarisonic Mia, a contraption which I had never really heard of until I read that post. Supposedly it was this miraculous little face washer, that essentially made your face look awesome. After reading all the reviews on Amazon, I couldn't not get it. Only catch is it was a tad bit pricey (do you like how I tell you this right after I tell you how poor we currently are?) I waited for the right time to tell husband that I may or may not have spent over a hundred bucks on a face washer. And when he had just about crapped his pants, I assured him that it is a magic face washer. I've had it for about 2 weeks now, and lovingly refer to it as my magic face wand. I still am having some fun little break outs right now, but from what I understand it's normal for the first few weeks because it's getting so much shi out of your pores. My face is a TON less oily though and much more smooth. My husband still isn't convinced it does a damn thing. I'll show him.

-Shawn and I are going to try to fly to Orlando at the end of this month - because I've never been there and because we can. Fist pump for free flight benefits.

-My little brother is leaving to Albuquerque, New Mexico next Wednesday to serve his 2 year LDS mission. I'm really going to miss him - but I'm certain he'll be a fabulous missionary! So if any of ya'll are out in the Albuquerque area, watch out for an Elder Chamberlain.

-I realize I still haven't shown you guys a video of my house like I did for our apartment. You've probably got the gist of it from the pictures and few videos I've posted - but I'll still do a video tour soon. Because those are fun.

My dog has officially been licking himself for about 14 minutes now, and it's grossing me out.

And I'm pretty sure he just swallowed a bobby pin.

Sooo we'll call that good for now.

The Annoying "Vote for my Pet Cause He's the Cutest" Post

2011-06-01T18:00:00.000-06:00

When we hacked Toby's manhood off (and by we, I mean a professionally trained veterinarian), we gave up the opportunity to pimp him out to all the lady Corgis to make ~~a little extra money~~ more totally radical puppies. And let's be honest, those puppies would have been good looking.

And just in case you can't remember just how cute Toby was as a puppy...

Anyways... What's done is done. Toby isn't going to magically grow fully functioning balls anytime soon - much to his chagrin, I'm sure. So I decided if we can't pimp him out to the ladies, why not pimp him out to the likes of the internet - because I'm a superb human being like that.

A few Google "cutest pet contest" searches later and I found a few to enter Toby into.

And this is where I need ya'll to help a woman out.

Click here: http://www.photowow.com/contest/index.aspx

I don't have any way of getting you to Toby's picture specifically, so you'll need to start rating the pet pictures until you see this picture:

And then you'll give him a 10, because hello. He was in third place, and then went all the way to 10th in about t minus 7 seconds. Which kind of depresses me. My dog is hella better looking than the rest of those dogs.

The contest lasts until next Tuesday, I believe. It won't actually give us money for winning - but I like winning so much, that I obviously had to blog about it.

Also? On a semi-related note. Please watch this video... If you're still not convinced that Corgis are the most awesome dog in the history of ever - this will help, I swear. Shawn and I watched it at least 8 times because we were laughing so hard. (It wouldn't let me embed the video here, sorry!)

Happy Wednesday, Internet!

Oh, and if I found you're one of the douche waffles giving my dog one star I'll mail you some anthrax.

Or something.

I Love My Creepy Husband

2011-05-27T00:06:00.000-06:00

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?

Married People Rule. Always.

2011-05-23T23:48:00.001-06:00

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.

Google: Helping People Feel Better About Their Lives Every Day

2011-05-18T23:30:00.001-06:00

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.

A Happy Chelsea is the Best Kind of Chelsea

2011-05-13T16:10:00.002-06:00

Yes, it's overly used.

Yes, it's a huge blog cliché.

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 cliché...). 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.

Free Time, Couches, and Getting Fat

2011-05-06T12:57:00.000-06:00

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.

Hola, Internet.

2011-05-01T13:39:00.000-06:00

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!

True Story

2011-04-25T13:46:00.001-06:00

Judge all you want.

I'm innovative, dammit.

Edit: I made that poster thinger all by myself. Husband wasn't at all amused until it clicked that I was the master behind the art. I even prefaced showing him by, "Look at this poster I made!" Good thing husbands listen.

Ah, Work.

2011-04-20T21:35:00.001-06:00

Today I had my first official meltdown at work. Like, straight up sobbing. Super embarrassing, right? Needless to say I was mortified. We've been getting crammed with information for the last 3 weeks - all really general information, might I add. And today was my third day on the phone with customers, and I somehow manage to feel like I've learned absolutely nothing in the last month.

Why was I such a blubbery hot mess? I told some old lady the wrong information. Twice. And naturally she got all impatient and testy with me. I even blurted out that it was my first week taking calls, hoping that she'd give me a little sympathy for being such an idiot, but no such luck. Naturally she wanted to talk to my supervisor - so as soon as I got someone else on the phone for her, you'd have thought someone had just slaughtered my dog. I. Lost. It. Luckily the girl, while I'm sure was beyond stunned, was really nice about it. She probably understood about two words that I said between all my gasps for air. At least she'll have something to talk about over dinner. You're welcome, nice crew support lady.

This on top of the fact that I've been waking up at the ass crack of dawn every morning, makes me nice and extra hormonal. Which is, you know, super fun. Everyone keeps telling me "Don't worry, it'll get easier." Which, sure, is great advice in hindsight. I do know that it will get easier eventually - but right now it's hard and apparently exhausting me to tears. So there.

I apologize for not being a good blog buddy lately - I literally have zero time to slum it around the web like I used to at my last job, and by the time I get home all I want to do is sleep forever. (And I mean that in the least suicidal way possible.) I'm still lurking around when I can - pinky swear.

I hate to leave on such a depressing note - but eh, life's kind of a bitch like that sometimes. So all you can do is take a 5 hour nap, eat a bag of Starburst Jelly Beans and hope things get better. You know, or whatever.

Shalom, Internet.

PS - I found this picture while Google Imaging (that's a verb now, right?)

Am I a bad person for wanting this for my kid? Kind of hilarious.

Stinky Boys, Instant Friends, and My Messy House

2011-04-15T21:40:00.002-06:00

So the husband is currently on yet another Scout camp. The only issue I have with these monthly slumber parties, is that they always take my Jeep and leave me with the BMW. And while a lot of the issue is due mostly to my completely atrocious manual shift skills and me almost throwing up every time I'm stopped on even the slightest of inclines while driving - the even bigger issue is that, without fail, when Shawn brings back my car it smells like pure, unadulterated ass. Imagine the smell of the body odor of a prepubescent boy, mixed with old campfire smoke, mixed with a dead animal carcass, mixed with male pattern flatulence, mixed with some stinky butt morning breath - and then multiply that by 1,700 dirty diapers - and my Jeep would still smell worse. And that may or may not be a bit of a dramatization - but good holy Hitler, it does not smell pleasant. If there was ever a time when I wished the internet had scratch and sniff capabilities, this would be it. Because I know ya'll would secretly take a whiff. Don't even lie.

A hand fan. That's what I need.

Anyways - so I'm sitting at home, alone. Because apparently without my husband, I'm virtually friendless. Well, that's a lie. Technically if we're speaking in virtual terms, I have lots of friends. Thanks, Internet. But seriously, I'm kind of a loser. But it kind of works in favor of my ever-progressing agenda to get knocked up. Having babies = instant friends. Hello. (This is on top of the more sex, and bigger boobs arguments - solid, right? Why am I not a lawyer?)

I actually don't really have a problem being home alone - I rather enjoy it, truth be told. The only thing I don't like about it is all the ominous chores taunting me while I lay on the couch and watch ~~I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant/Oprah/Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grade~~r quality television and play Words With Friends. I feel like when I'm home alone for the night, I need to have the house squeaky clean when husband returns from his stink fest. Instinctual wife thing, I suppose. Sometimes I'm amazed at the mess just two people can make - and sometimes it's so embarrassing that I just blame it all on the dog. (It's mostly embarrassing because half the time it's all my crap that is scattered from Hell to breakfast, let's be honest.)

Examples?

(Ignoring the fact that Shawn may or may not die when he sees that I've posted pictures of our messy house on the internet.)

This is my kitchen right now. It looks 10 times cleaner in the picture than it does if you were standing in it. (Aside from the mess, isn't my kitchen AWESOME looking?)

This is the medicine/frosting/baking/spice/candy/crap cupboard that gives me anxiety every time I open it. With people living in our basement, cupboard space is limited. Obviously. But this cupboard is sad. You should have seen the inside of my fridge a few days ago - moldy goolosh, old breakfast quiche... we're not very good at leftovers, apparently.

This is reminiscent of all the messes my dog really does make in the house. It is unbelievable. Apparently we don't feed him enough, because he can't get enough of those blinds. Last time I checked, babies don't eat blinds, or couches, or wedding shoes? Cough.

This is the literal dog mess that is currently plaguing our backyard right now. I'm pretty sure you can't take 3 steps without stepping in dog crap. The good news is we just bought a nifty pooper scooper, I just don't want to be the one that has to use it. And yes, I felt super awesome taking this picture. Only refined, classy people take pictures of dog poop and post it on their blog.

Bathroom messes are 90% mine. I never put my stuff away after getting ready in the morning - and it drives Shawn insane. I always tells him that if it bugs him so bad, then he can do it. Wife points. Instead he just puts everything in the sink. Nice. And the wipes? They totally embarrass Shawn for whatever reason, and he hides them whenever he knows someone is coming over. You'd think I had a vat of vagina cream on the counter. I tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed about, people will just be confident that we have clean butts. Because obviously people are concerned about that kind of stuff. (Plus? Wipes totally save toilet paper in certain situations. Just saying.)

Sometimes it amazes me how much stuff we manage to cram into a garbage can before someone finally caves and takes it out. All of those paper towels are from cleaning up dog urine - well, except for the full roll of paper towels. That is from when my genius husband threw it in the toilet to be funny. I think it goes without saying that I wasn't amused. Just in case you wanted an analysis of our garbage.

If the bathroom isn't my downfall, then it's the clothes scattered all over the floor. Sometimes I'll try on 5 outfits before I find the one. And sometimes the previous 5 outfits end up on the floor. Or on the dresser. Or in the dirty laundry - even though they're clean. That way when Shawn questions me, I just bat my eyelashes and tell him that I already wore that outfit, so it's obviously dirty. Then I hurry and hang it up before he notices otherwise. You know, or I just wash it again. Because who likes the "putting away" part of laundry anyways?

And then there's the bed. Which I think I've only ever made on Saturdays and maybe Sundays.

And there you have it, a bunch of nonsensical rambling and my messy house that I should probably be cleaning. All my whining about cleaning aside, it's nice to be able to get it all done by myself once in a while - because my husband is usually the one who does a lot of it, all without complaining - because he rules. Look at us, taking turns. Fer cute.

Anyways.

Talk about airing your dirty laundry.

Youuuuuuu're welcome.

Have a super weekend, Internet!

Happy Anniversary to US!

2011-04-11T00:19:00.002-06:00

So this past Friday we celebrated a full year of marriage - which, when you're married to me, is probably more of a feat for my husband. As I've mentioned in the past, I'm pretty certain Shawn deserves some sort of medal, award, or gold statue of himself, dubbing him the Jedi Master of wedded bliss. People always told me that the first year of marriage was the most difficult - and I suppose I'm lucky enough to say that if that was the hardest it'll ever be, then we're in for a treat. You know, until we bring screaming, pooping, keepmeupallnight children into the world - I'm sure that's when things will get really fun.

The day before our wedding birthday, my husband in a somewhat panicked tone asked me if people get each other presents for anniversaries. If I was a llama, I probably would have looked something like this...

Unfortunately I'm not a llama, or the situation would have been way more amusing. Anyways, I responded with a, "Well, you don't have to..." while simultaneously thinking of all the ways I could punish him if he forgot to get me at least a flower, a back rub, or something. Luckily I didn't marry an idiot - and when I woke up in the morning was surprised to find that he had installed a new shower head in the shower while I was sleeping - which sounds super lame, and maybe even kind of awkward - but it was one that I had wanted. (Mostly because I'm not a huge fan of showering together, because one person is always freezing their ass off in the corner while the other one is rinsing.) Anyways, it was one these kind...

So now there's water for everyone and I don't whine like a 3 year old when I'm not under the water for more than 6 seconds. WIN.

While I was getting ready for work, he went and bought me McDonald's for breakfast - and even though I probably knock a couple days off my life every time I eat their food, it was delicious.

When I came home from work, I opened the door to find this handsome scene...

In't he cute?

We went and got massages (and I'm pretty sure my masseuse was trying to kill me. Or pierce my back with her fricking elbow.) And then went to a restaurant called Market Street Grill. A client from my previous job gave me a gift card for the restaurant last Christmas, so we figured we'd give it a go. Worst. Idea. Ever. My 30 dollar salmon was absolutely terrible. It was dry and tasted fishy. (No crap, it was a fish, right? But you know what I mean.) Not to mention the atmosphere felt like a dangerously crowded Sizzlers. I'm not a huge fan of sitting so close to the people next to me, that I could pick food off their plate. The best part of the meal were Shawn's french fries. Which I ate half of - because my baked potato tasted like ass. So basically the moral of that story is if you live in Utah, do not eat there. Unless you enjoy terrible, expensive food. Then go for it. And bring me back some french fries.

I wasn't sure what the plan was after that, because Shawn is all about the cryptic surprises. So we head out in the absolutely ungodly weather (Thanks, Utah.) to our destination. I kept my eyes closed most the time, not because I was tired, but because driving in super dark snow storms absolutely terrifies me to death. Terrifies me almost more than the thought of swimming in the Amazon River.

We finally got to where we were going - and it was the same resort we had stayed in the weekend after we got married. Preeeeeeesh. Brought back lots of good times. (Like the time we thought it would be a good idea to put bubble bath in the jetted tub... Snort.) Such a great surprise. I forgot to take pictures of the place when we got there, which is why the bed isn't made. I couldn't be bothered to remake it with all the thousands of decorative pillows it originally had. Plus, I hate making beds. So there.

At least we know it got used, eh?

Anyways, we had a good time. We drove back home (after Shawn cooled off after noticing that someone hocked a loogie on his car. You know, the car with a BYU decal on the back.) and went to The Original Pancake House because I was hankering for some fruit crepes. NOM NOM NOM. We waited 45 minutes to sit down, they're that good.

I bet you're thinking, well you suck Chels - you made such a fuss about not getting a present, and you didn't even get Shawn anything. Fear not, Internet. This picture should speak for itself.

Every day that he hasn't had an iPhone, he's died a little inside. So he finally got one - and he's as giddy as a school girl. And apparently it isn't in my husband's blood to go to the mall and not come out with a bra from Victoria's Secret. And I ended up with probably one of the most lacy, fru fru bras I've ever owned in my life.

Also good for lamp decorating.

Oh yeah. I just posted a picture of my sexy bra on my blog. New level. Anyways, maybe that's the kind of bra that normal women wear all the time - while I slum it around in my Wal Mart bras. But you know, whatever. Moving right along.

Some time last year, I got a super awesome deal for a stay at Anniversary Inn - and we actually reserved a room there a few months ago to stay the night after our actual anniversary. (Because the rooms available on our actual day were sucky.) So we got to stay at a another place the next night. SWEET. We stayed in the Romeo and Juliet sweet... And because I know you're dying to see...

Anyways - needless to say we had a lovely time. I'm actually semi-embarrassed to admit we haven't actually tried our wedding cake yet - because it's rather soggy and melty. Which scares me a little. But we will at some point, I'm sure. And if not, we definitely thought about it. And that's what counts, right?

It's been a wonderful year with Shawn - I couldn't have asked for anyone better to spend the rest of eternity with. He's a saint for dealing with all my crap. For real. And while I realize not all our anniversaries will be as extravagant as this particular one was, it doesn't even matter. As long as I have my wonderful husband to celebrate anniversaries with, life is good. And presents never really hurt either.

Love you, husband!

Survey Time. WINNING.

2011-04-05T22:23:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how much less I'm on the internet, now that I actually am doing stuff at work. And by doing stuff, I mean sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day for three weeks learning how to correctly do my job ~~and trying my darndest not to punch a certain irritating, know it all brown noser in my training class square in his man treasure.~~ Nevertheless, I obviously haven't showed the blog much love lately. And unless you want to hear me pout about my deprived uterus, I'll grace you with, yet another, all-elusive survey. When I probably should be writing a paper for school. Rejoice.

Three Ways I'm Still a Kid

1. I laugh at farts. Or any bathroom humor, really.

2. I throw the occasional temper tantrum.

3. Takes a lot of convincing for me to do my chores. (The saddest part of this, is it's the one my husband came up with.)

Three Ways I'm Already Old

1. I start getting tired at 9pm.

2. The thought of having to go to a high school reunion gives me anxiety.

3. My butt is 75% cottage cheese.

Three Things I Want To Do

1. My husband would be immensely disappointed if I didn't have him listed here.

2. Ride an elephant.

3. Have babiesssssssss.

Three Ways That I'm a Stereotypical "Boy"

1. Nothing says "I'm a dude" more than my sexy manstache. Or the fact that I may or may not have used my husbands electric razor to tame said whiskers. Embarrassing? Only kind of.

2. I read/text/Tweet/check my email all from the comfort of my toilet.

3. I may or may not occasionally snore like a freight train.

Three Ways That I'm a Stereotypical "Girl"

1. My toenails are always painted.

2. I blame virtually everything on PMS/birth control/my uterus.

3. My ovaries do back flips every time I see a baby.

Three New Things I Want to Try in the Next Twelve Months

1. Friends. Preferably fat ones. (All my friends are skinny ass little twigs. C'MON.)

2. Florida. (Thank you, jobthatgivesmefreeflightbenefits.)

3. Babiessssssss.

Three Things I Like About Myself

1. My ability to sleep like a rock.

2. My spelling/grammar skills.

3. My excellent choice in husbands.

Three Things I Strongly Dislike About Myself

1. My flabby areas.

2. My laziness.

3. The fact that I'm taking so long to do this survey while my husband does the dishes.

Three Things That Scare Me

1. The Amazon River

2. Dead baby dreams

3. Showering at night when my husband isn't home.

Three of My Every Day Essentials

1. Toilet paper

2. Naps

3. Husband

Three Characteristics of the Opposite Sex That Appeal to Me

1. Good sense of humor - as in, they think I'm funny.

2. Romantic.

3. Okay with being wrong.

Three Things I Just Can't Do

1. Win any sport.

2. Cook.

3. Pee standing up.

Happy Tuesday/Wednesday/You know, whenever.

Obviously My Life is AWESOME.

2011-03-28T22:53:00.001-06:00

Promise I'm still alive, Internet.

This new job doesn't let me bum around on the internet all day long. Well, not yet at least.

In short?

-I don't think I've ever been more baby hungry than in the last 2 weeks. "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" could maybe be partly to blame for that. Lucky bitches. Well, kind of.

-I've payed more attention to college basketball this year more than I ever have in my life. I just learned that the ranks are "seats" not "seeds." (Edit: So, apparently it IS seed. And now I don't feel nearly as lame. I win! Kind of.) Also? I giggle every time I hear the announcers use the word "penetration." Could they really not have come up with a better word?

-I got my new schedule that I'll start working in about a month - and I'm not overly thrilled about it. So it's a good thing the benefits are totally worth the super crap shoot hours.

-I've been waking up at the ass crack of dawn every single morning to train for said new job - and boy is it taking a toll on the ol' hormone levels. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've almost burst into tears today.

-Shawn tried to install my new deck in my Jeep - key word: tried. He worked really hard, and for whatever reason my old and new deck have both lost power. Driving in silence makes me absolutely batty. I find myself doing and saying the most absurd things to keep myself entertained. True story.

-I went to the gym for the first time in, well, a while. And my body is responding with a huge, "What in the hell did you just do to me?" Time to get into a less round shape? I think so.

And that's about it for now! Super riveting stuff, I know.

Why Sleep When You Can Blog?

2011-03-22T23:16:00.000-06:00

For the past two days I've been technically "unemployed." And I sort of loved having those days to myself to sleep in until 11, and then do pretty much whatever the heck I want. If the last two days had a theme song, it would be this:

In fact, come to think of it - that would make a good life theme song. Well, at least for me, Lazy McLazerson. Heyo. Bruno Mars does it again.

Anyways, I should be getting ready for bed right now since I have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to get ready for orientation of my new job. And since I have to be there when I would normally still be sleeping - it should be fun. And by fun I mostly mean it won't be fun at all. But I still wanted to check in with ya'll - because I can.

-I finally bought Shawn his real Valentine's gift - a ticket to A Day to Remember concert. I told him that that's what I'd get him back in Februrary, you know, along with the proverbial iPad I got him. Ever since then , he's been mustering up all the sarcastic passive aggression he possible can and exclaims, "Thank you so much for getting me that concert ticket for Valentine's Day!" And a sister can only handle so much of that painintheassery - so I finally went and got it, mostly so he'd just shut the eff up about it. And maybe kind of because the concert may or may not be in less than a week. Oh, and also because I love him.

-Last night Shawn and I measured our boobs with the measuring tape from his tool chest. Yes. We measured our boobs. According to our calculations, I'm a AA and he's a D. Just in case anyone forgot what the portion sizes are in our family - here's a friendly reminder...

Needless to say, our measurements were off. (Also, on a completely unrelated note, don't ever tell me you have the whitest skin ever. I will beat you. Every. time.) So tonight we took a trip to Victoria's Secret to get measured for realsies. (Well, Shawn didn't get measured - he doesn't want to believe he's anything but a D.) Anyways, I'm proud to say I graduated a cup size since my last bra - and it isn't a double A. If the rest of me is going to get fat, my boobs may as well come along for the ride.

-I think Shawn was a little disappointed that I purchased the less expensive bra that doesn't push my boobs up to my chin and automatically make them look a full cup size bigger. I'm mostly impressed that he was more than willing to let me spend fifty two dollars on a BRA. I'll tell you what Victoria's Secret isn't. Good riddance.

-I finally had a dream that I had babies - and they didn't die. PROGRESS.

-Speaking of sleeping, I have been waking up in the middle of the night a lot more. And I have no idea why - because I usually sleep so dang deep that Riverdance could be performing in my living room, and I'd never know it. The other night I woke up because I could have sworn that it sounded like Toby was stuffed down our vent, and barking. I know. What in the hell? I was so confused. Right as I was about to ask my husband why the eff our dog was in our vent - I heard him snoring the weirdest snore ever. Yeah, it was him.

-I've eaten 2 tubs of cottage cheese in the last week and a half. And that makes me kind of depressed. Who on Earth eats that much cottage cheese? I guess it's a step up from Coconut Dreams. Except not really.

-I DVR every single episode of I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant - I'm that lame. I love watching it. I just don't understand how these women can drink, and smoke, and give birth to their babies in toilets and amusement park bathrooms - and have perfectly healthy babies. I find it absolutely fascinating. And sometimes I cry. Because hello? Babies!

I really have plenty more I could spout off, but I need to go figure out what I'm wearing tomorrow - because we all know that can soak up a precious chunk of time in the morning...

Wish me luck!

Adios, WORK.

2011-03-20T22:38:00.001-06:00

My last day of work at my job was on Friday. It was a lot more sad than I had originally thought it would be - having to say by to the girls and clients I've worked with for almost 3 years. Kind of surreal, almost. But my favorite part of the day was probably when the girls I work with handed me this...

Remember Frank the IT man at work, who I think is the cutest IT man in the history of IT men?

Yeah, that's him. An older picture, I assume. But still hilarious that they creeped onto his Facebook to get it.

I about died when I saw the message that was "supposedly" from him. Turns out they had the girl with the manliest handwriting write it. Very funny.

Good times - I'm going to miss those girls!

Also, let the records (for those who don't understand the joking behind the whole thing) show that I think my husband is the cutest, most handsome man in the history of men.

Hope your weekend was swell, Internet!

Wednesday Confessional

2011-03-16T10:44:00.000-06:00

The honest truth?

I'm lazy. The first thing I want to do when I get home is sit on the couch. Apparently sitting on my ass for 8 hours a day in an office is just too exhausting. And in my own defense, in a really weird way, it can be.

I'm addicted to taking pregnancy tests - even when I know I'm not pregnant.

I may or may not calculate what my due date would be if I were to magically get knocked up on any given month. (And just in case you're wondering, last month's date was 11/11/11. I win.)

Most women complain that their husbands don't help out around the house enough. I complain that my husband won't stop cleaning. Wife points.

I don't think my dog likes me - which has me inexplicably paranoid that I'm going to be a terrible mother.

I can't wait to have our house completely to ourselves. I will sex as loud as I want, gossip as loud as I want, and listen to music as loud as I want.

I feel like I've gained 1,800 pounds since high school - and irrationally fear that people notice and talk about it.

Still have dead baby dreams - and dreams about ex-boyfriends. In fact, I think I've dreamed about every dude in my life except my husband.

I have a completely physical crush on my company's IT dude. It's a little inside joke with me and the work girls - and if they ever told him, I'd die a little bit inside. It wouldn't make him any less sexy though. Rawr. (Oh, hey husband, I LOVE YOU.)

I am perfectly capable of consuming an entire package of Coconut Dreams within the span of a few hours. Which is unfortunately more depressing than it is impressive.

I think Glee is turning into a terrible show. They're trying to prevent reckless alcohol and sex shenanigans? Really? No wonder there are twenty eight pregnant girls at the high school I went to. Twenty eight.

I am so ready to be done at this job. But am mildly nervous for the new one I start in a week - not because I don't think I can handle it - but because I'll be working very different hours than I'm currently working - and we all know how I feel about change.

I finally figured out Twitter - and I kind of like it.

Fun, right?

Your turn.

My {Super Awesome} Wedding Video - Part 6

2011-03-12T19:25:00.000-07:00

Remember that one time I showed you my wedding video? And by one, I mean the 5 separate times? Well SURPRISE! I'm still not done. YouTube disabled the audio on the next clip I'm going to post today (because of copyright reasons, I would imagine) - so I kind of just forgot about it. Inconceivable, right? Anyways - if you managed to miss the last 5 wedding video posts, here they are:

Part 1 - How We Met

Part 2 & 3 - First Kiss & Proposal

Part 4 - Wedding Day

Part 5 - Wedding Reception

And for your viewing pleasure, here is part 6 of the ol' wedding video.

(Remember that I've cut out all the people telling us congratulations and giving us advice, which is why the end is so abrupt.)

And now I'm going to go and lay around for the rest of the night, because I'm a party animal.

Wordless Wednesday. Kind of.

2011-03-09T22:36:00.000-07:00

Remember that one time Toby graduated his puppy class - and took a super cute picture?

And then graduated his intermediate class and tried to take a picture...

Then tried again...

Then turned into Satan dog.

Oh, Toby.

Turns Out I'M ALIVE.

2011-03-07T12:52:00.001-07:00

So, I realize it's been over a week since I blogged - not for lack of anything interesting happening - mostly out of lack of motivation to sit down and write about it. I'd apologize, but eh - you know how it goes. So we'll do a quick catch up and hopefully get back to some regularly scheduled babble...

-So, my birthday was last Wednesday - and it was super. My studly husband made me breakfast in bed and when I was done I started to get ready for work - and he told me to go back to bed. Apparently he had called my manager a few days ago and secretly got the day off for me. Best. surprise. ever. He had a trip to the temple and some massages planned, but he ended up working for longer than he had anticipated - so it didn't all work out, which was totally fine by me. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm totally down with lazying around in my pajamas all day - I did however go and get mah toenails did. We went and got something to eat and had dessert with the family. Pretty low key - which is how I like it.

-Speaking of my birthday - my presents were awesome. My inner 7-year-old is dying to show them off. The day before my birthday Shawn gave me Pretty Pretty Princess. Ladies, remember that game?

I had mentioned to Shawn a few months ago that that game was my favorite when I was younger. How cute is he? You better believe I'll make him play it with me one of these days. And there will be pictures. He also got me a special Bluetooth stereo for my Jeep. Aaaaaand a camera! WOOP! You'd think that since I got a camera, I'd have pictures for this post - but I don't. I looked like an overweight handicap in the pictures that were taken of me on my birthday. Soooo, we'll keep trying. Oh, and also.. Coconut Dreams. You better believe I got me some of those. And my sister-in-law made me an elephant necklace to go with my elephant ring. Now I just need some elephant earrings and I think my life will officially be complete. I take that back. My life will be complete when I own a puppy sized elephant. Because, that happens.

-And last birthday note - we had a "birthday party" of sorts this last weekend at the same place my little sister had her birthday party - Karaoke Cafe. Because I'm a party animal. It was pretty fun - Shawn and I sang a lovely rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, which I'm embarrassed to say was streamed live on their website. If you want to witness just how bad of singers we are, please skip to around 1:19. And don't judge me.

American Idol material, amiright? Needless to say, our terrible voices made for a few hours of entertainment. The suckier you are, the funner karaoke is. That's what I say.

-Our fish ~~finally~~ died. That thing was ultra-crazy. He'd constantly convulse and then jump in and out of his water. It was time. Besides, I hated cleaning that fish tank. And when I say that, I mean I hated smelling the tank when my husband would clean it. Gave my gag reflexes a run for their money. RIP, Alfredo.

-Toby is getting fatter by the second - but he's still the cutest fat puppy ever. His new favorite place is our bed. Which probably explains why I wake up with dog fur in my mouth every morning.

I seriously can't get enough of how much he loves to lay on his back.

-We saw I Am Number Four this weekend. All I have to say is that I'd totally tap that. Yes please.

-In the last week three people have come up to me and said that I look exactly like someone they know. Three. One was this creepy dude who just came up and stared at me and was like, "Don't you know who I AM?!" I was like, "Yeah, um. No dude." That was awkward for everyone involved. Except for my husband - who found it all too amusing. I must have "one of those faces."

Anyawys, I just ate about 849 Dove chocolates. Excuse me while I go throw up.

Oh, and happy Monday. I'll try and be back SOON.

So, I May Have Gotten a Little GIF Happy.

2011-02-24T17:00:00.003-07:00

So remember that one time I told you I had exciting news?

I definitely laughed at this one for like, 8 minutes.

Granted, it's probably more exciting to me than to any of you. But nevertheless - I'm going to tell you all, because I can. Are you ready?

*Drum roll*

I gave my notice of resignation at my current job. WOO!

Why?

Because I got a job with [Insert airline here]. WOO!

GIFSoup

Yeah, so sorry if you were hoping that I was going to tell you something... more exciting. Like that I got my own reality TV show, or that I won the Publisher Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, or that my husband bought me an iPhone for my (less than a week away) birthday. Cough. But eh, what can ya do? While the job isn't super glamorous - it has a crap ton of super awesome perks that not very many jobs offer. I think my favorite ones are that I get to work from home, in my pajamas and the free airfare for me and the fam. Yahtzee!

As super excited as I am to be able to work in my pajamas, I'm kind of nervous. Not because I think it'll be hard, or that I won't be able to remember all the information - but because I absolutely hate change. Just ask my husband. Or anyone who knows me, really.

I still buy the same brand of jam my mom has bought ever since I can remember.

I rarely try something new things at restaurants I'm familiar with. If I ordered it once and liked it, that's what I'll always order. You know I'm feeling extra crazy when I order something besides a turkey sandwich from Subway.

I have the same email address and password I had when I was in seventh grade.

The URL of my blog is still my maiden name. (Sorry, husband.)

I hate moving. Even if it's moving from an apartment to our very own house.

You get the gist, right? I'm not big on going out of my comfort zone. You know, that, or I'm just lazy. But I think I'll go with the former. So even though I hate the thought of leaving a job that I've been with for two and a half years - this will be a good opportunity for me. Hopefully.

I can honestly say that even though I feel (and look) pretty much like death, and even though I'm about to explode from all the drama at work, and even though I've entered about 84,000 contests to win an iPad with little success, and even though I've crossed the "overweight" threshold on the stupid $#@$@%@#$ BMI chart - I'm really pretty happy with my life. I would have it no other way. I'm a very lucky girl!

Hope you had a super Thursday!

{Insert Relevant Title Here}

2011-02-18T16:05:00.000-07:00

Konichiwa, Internet!

I know my posts have been boring and sporadic lately.

It's really just a test, to see how much you really like me.

So since it's Friday, and no one likes using brain power on Friday - I'mma bullet this baby out for you.

-Our Valentine's Day was actually fairly low key. Which I am totally cool with. (Even though at one point I was positive that every "first" holiday with my new husband had to be EPIC.) My husband surprised me with dinner when I got home from work. Candles, music, bubble baths... You know - typical Valentine's Day foreplay. We ended up at WalMart, because we're all about keeping Valentine's Day high class - and bought some super healthy snacks.

You know, or not. (My favorite part of this picture is the bottle of Excedrin on the Samoa ice cream.) We stuffed our faces in true holiday fashion while we watched The Bachelor in our sweats. Our first V-day was simple and relaxing. Perfect.

-Speaking of the Samoa ice cream... Biggest. Disappointment. Ever. I kept hoping that with every spoonful it would get better - but it just didn't. You know an ice cream is bad when the chunks aren't even good. You know I'll still eat it though. Because when you let ice cream go to waste, the terrorists win.

-My husband and I just watched the first season of Modern Family. Best. choice. ever.

-I got bored one day and decided to paint my fingernails. I rarely paint my fingernails. In fact, I think the last time they were painted was when I was like, 13. Why? Because within the first day, this happens:

I had three colors to choose from. Pink, black, and sparkly. Check out my emo-fabulous self.

And it drives. me. crazy. I can't stop thinking about how my fingernails don't match. My OCD goes into over drive, and I peel it all off. Same thing happens when I get acrylic nails and one of them breaks off. I like my ish to match.

-My little sister had her birthday party at a place called Karaoke Cafe. It's a neat little place where families and whoever can come to, you guessed it, sing karaoke. Shawn and I classed up the joint with a little rendition of "Baby Got Back." It wasn't until the words, "that butt you got makes me so horny" came out my mouth that it donned on me that the song choice probably wasn't all too appropriate for a bunch of 14 year old girls. Oops.

-Today is my parent's anniversary. I've reminded myself every day this week to remember to wish them a happy one when today arrived. Did I? No. Child fail. Happy 24th Anniversary, Mom and Dad! I lover you TONS!

-My birthday is soon. Like 12 days soon. If you want to send me a present - I won't stop you. I want Pajama Jeans - because, hello. It's pajamas in stealth mode. Pajamas you can wear to work on Fridays. Pajamas that trick everyone. You're like a walking optical illusion when you have Pajama Jeans. I must have them now. Or in 12 days. You know, whatever.

-My pervy dog chewed through the strap of my most expensive bra. And then I killed him.

That is all, dear friends.

Peace and blessings.

How to Suck at Valentine's Day

2011-02-15T16:48:00.000-07:00

Note: When you hint to your husband that you got him an iPad for Valentine's Day, and hand him this:

He will not be even kind of amused.

Just in case you were wondering.

Hope ya'll had a fabulous Valentine's Day!

I've Got Skillz

2011-02-10T12:50:00.000-07:00

So, as I was mindlessly putting off studying for my test tonight - I ran into a fun handwriting meme on someone's blog. (PS - where the eff does the word 'meme' come from? And how do you pronounce it?) Anyways, because I'm clearly the current captain of the I-can't-think-of-anything-even-remotely-interesting-to-blog-about team, I decided I'd participate, even though I wasn't tagged. Gasp. I take pride in my handwriting. I think the smaller it is, the better it looks. And, that's what she said. (Hi, I'm 14.)

But seriously, I kind of dig my handwriting - and think someone should pay me to make it a font. That happens, right? It really is small, which makes it hard for some people to read. But that's beside the point. When you're just glancing at it from far away, it looks good.

See?

Anyways.

These are the questions I was supposed to answer in my own handwriting...

1. What's your name/your Blogger name?

2. What's your blog's name/URL?

3. Write "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"

4. Favorite quote?

5. Your favorite song?

6. Your favorite animal? (I changed this one, because I don't really have a favorite band/artist. OOPS.)

7. Anything else you want to say?

8. Tag 3-5 other people

See? That was fun.

Now you do it.

This One is Boring. REAL Boring.

2011-02-07T12:47:00.000-07:00

So I've been totally putting off the blog, mostly because nothing overly exciting has been happening. Like, at all. Unless exciting in your world equals me getting a steak sandwich at Subway, rather than the usual turkey sandwich. Or wax lady waxing my eyebrow in half. Or me sleeping through the entire Super Bowl. Or the government raping our bank account.

You see? Obviously my life is just way too riveting.

I may actually have some exciting news in the near future - but until I know it's a for sure thing, I probably shouldn't jinx it on my blog. And no, it has nothing to do with any new developments in my uterus. Sorry.

I've sat here for about 10 minutes trying to think of something interesting I can blog about, and the only thing I'm coming up with is that I had a dream that I stabbed my husband. But I only did it, because I had to, and I knew it wouldn't hurt him. I don't remember much more than that. Super pleasant, right? Meanwhile, my husband is having the baby dreams. Except his dream babies don't die, they coming shooting out of my baby maker, bouncing on the floor - and then are walking and talking within hours of being born. Hello.

So I'm just going to go ahead and leave it at that. Because let's be honest, this is boring. And I have a test to study for. Sigh.

I'm alive.

I'm (really) happy.

And I still like reading comments. Cough.

So tell me about your weekends/lives/dreams - I'd bet 20 bucks they're more interesting than mine. Ain't nothing like vicariously living through the Internet.

Holler.

Winning is Better Than Pretty Much Anything

2011-02-01T13:20:00.001-07:00

Ah, Tuesday. The day with 39 hours. Or so it would seem. Seriously, do Tuesdays seem super, extra way longer than all the other days? Nothing is more depressing than looking at the clock thinking 3 hours have passed, and only 23 minutes have passed. Okay, so there might be more depressing things. Like 3 legged dogs, and Smith's running out of Coconut Dreams. But, seriously.

Anyways. On with the funner stuff. (Why can't funner be a word? Everyone uses it.)

Congratulations to the super lucky winners of a special handmade present from ME. I still have no idea what I'm going to make, but I have a feeling it will be different for every single person. Because, why not? So, if the following people could kindly email me your mailing address (I promise I won't stalk you), your favorite color, your favorite animal, and really anything that will aid me in sending you something that won't end up in a charity bin the next day - that would be lovely. You can email me at PrincessChels00@hotmail.com. Yes, the email I've had since 7th grade. Obviously I'm awesome.

Andrea

Angela Noelle

Amanda*

Vida

Lunablue**

Paige

Taylor*

Kate Rowan

Bethany***

Meg O.

Tonia***

*I'm pretty sure I've got your address down. ;)

**Fertility beads? YES.

***I like you. So even though you aren't "playing"/were the 11th comment, I'll still send you a special present.

For the rest of you that are pretty depressed about not getting a homemade present - fear not! I'm thinking about doing a special "Things I Love" giveaway for my birthday (inamonth) - and I'll send you some of the things I LOVE. How fun am I? You want to win that one, because you know there will be Coconut Dreams in that package. Yahtzee!

(On a sort of related note, anyone aware that they have Samoa ice cream!? Just in case you haven't caught on, that's like Coconut Dream ice cream. Oh. Em. Gee.)

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find a very covert way that I can study for my Human Sexuality labeling test at the front desk. If the next post you see on this blog is entitled, "Why You Shouldn't Study Human Sexuality at Work," you'll know I failed.

Happy February, Internet!

Who Likes Presents From Chelsea?

2011-01-28T16:54:00.000-07:00

Internet, I've started 3 different posts today - all of which I got incredibly bored of in about .37 seconds. You know those weeks when you just aren't really feelin' the blog? Currently, that would be me. Hello.

I mean, I could tell you about the light show we went to last weekend. And how I felt completely baked the entire time. (Not that I know what that feels like or anything, but you know.) And how they wouldn't adhere to my incessant Justin Bieber requests because apparently the Biebs isn't considered alternative. Damn.

I could tell you about how I secretly want to have a baby on 11-11-11, because then my kid would be instantly cooler than the all the other kids. And there has got to be some sort of prize for being born on that day.

I could tell you about how my fart knocker dog not only put bite marks into my wedding shoes - but how, this time, he rendered them completely unwearable by chewing the living shite out of them. And how I wailed for a good solid hour because of it.

I could tell you about the red light violation ticket that the stupid officer gave me.

All those things seem so... boring right now. Well, minus the 11-11-11 baby. Because let's be honest, that would be awesome.

So, instead I decided I'm going to do my duty and pass this fun little giveaway doohickey along...

Pay it Forward 2011: I promise to send something handmade to the first 10 people who leave a comment. They must in turn post this and send something they made to the first 10 people who comment. The rules are that it must be handmade by you and it must be sent to your 10 people sometime in 2011.

I actually changed the number from 5 to 10. Because I think getting presents in the mail is maybe one of the best things ever. Well, and really because I'm just a super neat person. I'm not guaranteeing anything overly Martha Stewart special - so don't be disappointed if/when you get a couple of beautifully colored coloring books or a finger painted picture. It's still fun though. So leave me a good comment. And when you pass it along, you're welcome to change the number back to 5, or 13, or 79 - or really whatever you want.

So go ahead and leave your super great comments. You know you want a special Chelsea present.

Be a winner.

Note: I just tried to find a semi-relevant picture to insert here. Instead, I ended up looking at LOLcats (or whatever the hell they're called) for an embarrassing amount of time. I hate those things. And I hate even more that I found a small amount marginally amusing.

Happy Weekend, Internet.

My {Super Awesome} Wedding Video - Part 5

2011-01-25T11:59:00.002-07:00

If you've missed the first four installments of the best wedding video ever, peruse the links below.

Part 1 - How We Met

Part 2 & 3 - First Kiss & Proposal

Part 4 - Wedding Day

And this clip is mostly from our reception that we held at Noah's.

I loved everything about our reception. Everything went perfectly.

Well, mostly everything. But more on that later.

(Remember that I've cut out all the people telling us congratulations and giving us advice, which is why the end is so abrupt.)

Happy Longest-Day-of-the-Week, Internet.

I Like Surveys.

2011-01-24T13:04:00.003-07:00

So I started a post to tell ya'll about my weekend that involved things other than watching 873 episodes of Friends in my underwear. But then I decided my head hurts too much to use to use that that kind of brain power. So you get the all-elusive survey that I was tagged in by the lovely Lady Fromage. Surveys are easy. I like surveys. Plus, it gives my inner narcissist a chance to shine.

1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals, or are they members of your family?
It depends. If Toby has just peed on the floor, mauled 3 pairs of shoes, and chewed up one of my used lady products - he's merely an animal. The rest of the time we treat him like our freakin child.

2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
Most of my dreams include dead babies or ex-boyfriends - but if we're not being literal here, it would be to go to Europe and ride an elephant. And to have babies. Ones that don't die.

3. What is the one thing most hated by you?
I'm not sure that there's one thing that's most hated by me. I hate a lot of things. Which is sad, really. But seriously. It's hard not to hate your dog when he destroys your wedding shoes past the point of no return. It's hard not to hate people who can't throw up a courtesy wave after cutting me off. It's hard not to hate when people can't take out the time to spell 'you' instead of 'u'. It's hard not to hate losing at Mario Party.

I love things too. Like my husband, Coconut Dreams, and my elephant ring. Don't worry.

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
What wouldn't I do with a billion dollars.

5. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood?
Sleep, my husband, and watching Friends.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
I think they're both equally blessed. They both enrich each other.

7. What is your bedtime routine?
It varies depending on how tired I am. Usually involves the dental hygiene routine - more often than not, sans flossing. Put the dog in his kennel. Lock the doors. Take the birth control. Ask husband to check the doors again. Read marriage book with husband. Pray with husband. Gossip to husband about everything under the sun until I fall asleep.

8. If you are currently in a relationship, how did you meet your partner?
We met in high school.

9. If you could watch a creative person in the act of the creative process, who would it be?
I'm going to go with God on this one.

10. What kinds of books do you read?
Well, when I'm not stuck ~~skimming~~ reading textbooks - it's usually romance novels. I try to steer clear of the trashy, porno ones with steamy, half naked bodies on the cover. But, you know.

11. How would you see yourself in ten years time?
Married, staying at home with some kids, more wrinkles, rolls, and cottage cheese and a perfectly well-behaved dog who doesn't make me cry. That sounds nice.

12. What’s your fear?
My dead baby dreams becoming reality. Or anyone I love dying, really.

13. Would you give up all junk food for the rest of your life for the opportunity to visit outer space?
Nope. Not even a little bit. I don't think I could handle visiting outer space. The paranoia of not getting back home, getting hit by a meteor, or suffocating to death would eat me alive.

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married, but poor?
Married and poor!

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Well I usually fall back asleep. Waking up in the morning is not one of my strong points. But when I actually am up. I pee. Isn't that what most people do?

16. If you could change one thing about your spouse/partner what would it be?
Eh, nothing really. My husband is pretty awesome just the way he is. Except for when he beats me at stuff.

17. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be?
I'm pretty okay with Chelsea. Though, if I had to change it, I'd probably change it to one of those names where people would never believe that that was actually my name. Like Brunhilda. Or Pineapple. Or Skeletor.

18. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?
Hard to say. Did you kill my entire family? Yeah, probably not. I'm usually better with the forgiving than the
forgetting. I've been known to be somewhat of a grudge-holder. Woopsie.

19. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be?
Food. Oh, what kind of food? Probably potatoes. Those babies come in all sorts of variations.

That was fun. I don't know why I don't inundate the blog world with more of these. Oh, aaaand I'm not going to tag anyone. Because I always feel secretly sad when I want to do the survey and I don't get tagged. Because no one wants to be the loser that did the survey when they weren't tagged. So if you want to do this survey, then I tag you.

Arrivederci, Internet.