Wasting Social Media #smday

Soon enough all of our holidays will be online related. Instead of gifts on Christmas we'll just poke each other on Facebook and instead of eating turkey on Thanksgiving, we'll all be stuffing twitter birds. Don't kid yourself, you know that scientists are secretly breeding those things right under our noses.

So today is Social Media Day! When we forget the Blogger vs Wordpress, the Facebook vs MySpace, and where Twitterers the world over celebrate the beauty of being able to converse with one another without having to put pants on.

Since I've spent the last day drinking the social media kool-aide like never before. Between #SITS31DBBB Tweet Ups, #CommentHour, and of course my own personal SITS day . . . I'm surprised that I've seen daylight in the last couple of days. And you know what? I've loved every single minute of it. So to celebrate Social Media Day, I've compiled a short list of tweets that I have used to waste social media.

So chime in . . . what's the best tweet you've used this month to waste social media?

For SITS and Giggles

Hi, I'm Jia and I like to make a good first impression.

Today I'm being featured on the amazing community SITS.

Which is weird.

Because usually whenever I get emails about my blog, I stop and go, "People noticed me?" But not in the excited way that you see on American Idol when a contestant gets complimented for not being a piece of garbage. I'm talking about the kind of shock and confusion that comes when you're walking through Walmart singing to yourself and suddenly you realise that people can hear you. And that you were singing DiVinlys, "I Touch Myself".

When I got the email saying that my time had come, I had been chosen, I was filled with honor.

And then I wondered if I should remove that post about caulk.

(I didn't.)

If you're here for the first time, then welcome. 

I highly recommend checking out the All Knowing Guide to Untypically Jia. There you'll find some of my most popular posts, as well as things that I find serious, causes I support, and my journey through depression and obsessive compulsive disorder.

If you're a long time reader, check out the new updates that have been made to my About Page, and the new and improved FAQ Page.

And don't forget to comment.

Cause I'm an attention whore.

And it's kind of the whole purpose of SITS. Supporting fellow bloggers y'all.

Well that, and giving me something to do instead of laundry.

Update: Holy snap nuggets y'all. The amount of visitors and comments so far is mind boggling. Seriously, every new email I get I update Matt on the number and then when he started to look like he no longer cared I was all, "Seriously, this is like how anytime your X-Box gamerscore increases you tell me like I actually care." And then I think he understood. Either that, or he just nodded his head while secretly hoping it would shut me up.

Update x2: It won't.

Update x3: I am totally going to try and respond to all the comments below. It'll take me forever and I'll probably have to skip washing the dishes, but for YOU, I will make that great sacrifice.

Hot Stuff

In the past, I've been okay when my husband buys an issue of Maxim.

I also accept the fact that he says Anne Hathaway is almost as sexy as me.

And we even went through a phase in High School where he wanted Alanis Morissette as a concubine.

Because I too, am human.

And have weaknesses.

Firemen.

Matt has come to terms with that.

Firemen are known for being one of few people that are allowed to break my personal bubble.

The first year we were married, my aunt and I drove to the grocery store where the local firemen had parked their big red truck in front of the store and were wearing tight t-shirts asking for donations to help a local charity. We quickly learned that if you donated a dollar to the local charity, you got a sticker that said "I Support Firemen". You also got a hug from a fireman of your choice.

After contemplating the cash situation, my aunt and I decided that for charity . . . we could do this.

She pulled a twenty dollar bill from her purse and sighed before rushing inside to get change.

I was halfway to the ATM machine before she got back.

An hour later, we returned with groceries and as I began to unload, Matt asked me: "Honey, why do you have forty some odd stickers that say 'I Support Firemen'?"

It's been seven years since that day and twice this year alone I've had the inevitable Fireman run-in.

The last time it happened, I slowly strolled past as the local Albuquerque Firemen asked for donations outside of the grocery store. Matt laughed and slipped a dollar bill into my hand.

Matt: Go see if you can get a hug.

Me: No. It's weird.

Matt: What's weird? You've done it before.

Me: Not with you watching. Besides, I was like . . . fifty pounds lighter back then.

I was also presently wearing black exercise leggings and a borrowed t-shirt of Matt's that read, "Video Games Destroyed My Life, Good Thing I Have Two Extra." I was not in a condition to be Firemen adjacent.

It's a problem. I'm aware.

Especially since the "Fireman" title even makes Denis Leary look totally sexy to me.

Danger. Fire. Calendars.

What's not to love?

Plus . . .  and endless amount of double entendres.

Love, Yourself (June)

Dear Jia,

I know June is always a hard month. It's emotional and it can be very down. So please take extra care to be observant of how you are feeling. Let Matt know if you need anything, including time by yourself. He understands. I know this because he told me so last year after you had a bit of a meltdown.

Outside of the usual grief in June, you were oddly motivated. You took more pictures of yourself (smiling even) this month than the whole year combined. See . . . this is called progress. Also, this month you had your annual doctors appointment and were asked to stop giving yourself daily breast exams. Keep up that goal, and since it's been a year, I think it's time to schedule another physical if you haven't already.

This month you weighed 253 pounds, and you had really good self esteem. The air conditioner broke though and it was really hot. Your agoraphobia kept you inside too, which made it worse. Hopefully the air conditioner works this year, but regardless of how cool it is inside, I want you to go outside this summer. You didn't go swimming once last summer and you regretted it. So here's permission to buy yourself a new swimsuit. Matt, if you're reading this you need to take your wife to get a new swim suit. I don't care how much she argues. She needs a new one. Unless she's lost enough weight by now to pull off wearing that totally hot brown one she bought after the cruise in 2009.

This is what you looked like in June 2010. It was a really good month. Take more pictures of yourself, which reminds me, if you haven't already, get a tripod, you really need one.

So take a picture of yourself today, June 2011 and post it tomorrow along with the progress you have made.

Love,

Yourself

Thanks, Dad

Thanks Father in Law, for letting me marry your son even though we probably would have done it whether you liked it or not.

Thanks for continually teaching me about airplanes, guns and for letting me shoot a rifle when I was fifteen years old.

Thanks for liking my cooking more than Moms. LOL!

Thanks Uncle, for raising me when you had no obligation to.

Thanks for putting up with me through my teen years.

Thanks for not grounding me that one time that I pushed Kristine through a window when we were twelve.

Thanks Dad, for all of the great 80's pictures I have of you wearing ridiculous outfits. 

Thanks for the dollhouse you built when I was six.

Thanks for letting me steer the car when I was seven.

Thanks for my button nose, and my stubborn attitude.

Thanks for giving me an early love of rock and roll.

Thanks for tattooing my name on your arm.

Thanks for not disowning me because I hate the Dallas Cowboys.

Thanks for dancing with me at my wedding.

Thanks for my two beautiful little brothers.

And thank you for not being perfect, and for working hard to overcome obstacles.

Thanks for being my Dad.

Untypically in Love: Alone

Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.

Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.

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Chapter Thirty-Three
Alone

Audra went on to recover from the event, though we never spoke about it much. Police were never called and soon Mitch was heading back to Indiana. I hadn't spoken to Joseph in some time, keeping mostly to myself when we were scheduled on the same shift, and not seeing him at all outside of work. Eventually though, we both relented, spoke about what happened once, and then tried to move on.

But things had changed.

Joseph's family had decided to move to Indiana, and he had been given a choice as to whether or not he would go with them. Joseph thought it would be best to stay with his family. I was bitter, angry at him for keeping the information from me for so long, as he'd known about it for weeks. I was also angry that he'd chosen his family over me. 

The last week we spent together was full of emotions. I would shed tears of desperation moments before resentment would set in and I would lash out at him, furious I could do nothing it seemed to changed the situation. We talked about potentially staying together, long distance, but it seemed futile. When he finally left, I kissed him goodbye and Riley had to drive me home. I was inconsolable. My past relationships always had an end. One broke up with the other, and whether it ended bitterly or on good terms, it still ended. But this . . . I had not expected to have a relationship that would just dissolve due to distance.

Weeks later I'd stopped trying to call Joseph, and it seemed he had done the same. My co-workers, and especially Stephanie seemed happy with the situation, thankful that I had been freed from the emotional weight that had seemed to sit on my spirit over the last year. Soon my life seemed back to normal. Though I felt like I was on shaky ground, I didn't want to confess to anyone what I was feeling, or that I needed help.

On a strange weekday, I came home from work one day to a message that Matt had called. Though my feelings were tender about everything that had recently happened, I felt touched that Matt would still think about me from time to time. The next Friday when I had the day off from work, I drove up to Matt's house without calling beforehand - hoping to surprise him and say hello. When his Mom answered the door, she smiled and hugged me. It had been some time since I'd seen her as well.

"Is Matt home?" I asked.

"Oh sure, he's out in the pool with one of his friends." She opened the door for me to come in. The smells of the house penetrated my soul. Familiar scents of better times permeated the air and I managed to run my fingers along the fabric of the couch, remembering long hours of cuddling in front of the television with Matt.

I headed toward the back door, slightly regretting not bringing my swim suit with me. The weather was humid and hot, especially for living in New Mexico, and a dip in the pool was just what I needed.

A sound brought my attention to the pool. Laughing. 

No. Giggling.

As I focused my gaze on the pool in the backyard of Matt's house, I saw him and his friend. His friend - Matt's Mom failed to mention - was a tiny brunette in a bikini wrapped in Matt's arms. I stood in silence as I watched them. Matt was smiling, laughing. He seemed so happy. I envied him. No . . . I envied her.

"You been going to Church at the single's ward?" Matt's Mom asked me. It made sense of course. I was an adult now and naturally would move to the single's branch of the Church at a different building. There I'd be with people my own age, and possibly find someone to love who believed the things that I said I did.

"Been busy with work," I sighed. "Has Matt been going?" I asked her.

"Oh yeah," she smiled brightly. "He's been doing really good lately."

"Good." I smiled, holding back tears. "Hey, umm . . . I have to get going, forgot I have to work tonight." I lied and rushed out the door before she had a chance to even say goodbye.

A week later I was still thinking about Matt, his new girlfriend and how happy he seemed to be. I wondered if Joseph was also happy with his new life. Perhaps I was the problem in every equation. Did I bring misery to people? I wondered. My shell was cracked by the year that I wanted so badly to forget, and another blow came when Stephanie announced that she was leaving for college in two weeks - a college that would be on the other side of the country. 

Desperate to not be alone, I began spending more and more time with Riley, who had sparked a mild flirtation with me since Joseph's departure. Audra wasn't the same, Joseph was gone and now Stephanie was leaving. It seemed that Riley was all I had left of my friends. One moment lead to another and soon we were considered a couple.

If Joseph had been a drug I'd used to numb my soul . . . dating Riley was me falling off the wagon. I wanted the pain to go away. Riley would be my new drug. And I was going to overdose on him in an attempt to destroy myself.

A relationship full of regrets and emptiness, Riley proved helpful in at least one area. He had plans to move back in with his parents but the lease on his apartment was not up. Rent was cheap and it was still close to home for me, so I signed on the dotted line, feeling a strange sense of empowerment. 

Moving day came quickly and by the time I showed up to the apartment, Riley already had all of his things out. I was surprised to find out that he'd been moving out all morning. Stephanie was there helping him and I was glad, because Stephanie had a large truck and I needed help getting furniture over there.

"Hey," I smiled and leaned up to kiss Riley as he carried a box to his truck. 

"Little busy," Riley grunted, dodging me as he packed in the final load into the vehicle and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Wow, you guys got everything done this morning?" I asked Stephanie.

"Oh no, this is the final bit of it." She shook her head, gesturing to Riley's truck. "He got everything done last night. I came over to get the packing tape I loaned him," she smiled brightly. "Got to get back home and start packing up all my stuff now."

"Oh," I nodded, trying to understand. I knew Stephanie was excited about college and that she had plenty of things to get done herself. Thankfully I knew that my boyfriend would be there to help me get situated. His parents lived just down the road from my house, so I could ride with him there, help him unpack and he could help me load up some of my stuff to come back to the apartment. We could easily have it all done by nightfall and could watch a movie together - once I figured out how to set up my TV that is.

Stephanie pulled out of the rock parking lot of the small apartment complex and I walked over to Riley as he climbed in his truck. 

"Hey, I was thinking that I'd go with you and then . . ."

"This isn't working," Riley said, cutting me off. "We need to break up."

"What?" I asked, caught completely off guard, my already fragile self confidence was beginning to break and I could feel the cracks as it moved up my spine.

"We're still friends, but . . . this is over." He said before starting up his truck and pulling away from the apartment. Even if I had a reply, his muffler was too loud to hear it. Even if I had screamed.

I slowly made my way back into the apartment with one box in my arms. The place was empty. I'd never seen it so empty. Almost as if someone tried to strip the memories from the walls . . . but they were still there. I could see them. My new life was stained with my old problems.

Even if I new how to react to Riley's breakup, I also knew that I didn't love him. I should have felt relief, but I was angry. I felt used, thrown away and more than ever, I felt sick of my life. Everyone I trusted seemed to leave me. Joseph broke my heart at every turn and then left, and now Riley too was tossing me aside. I felt like garbage. 

My heart began to race and I sat down in the middle of the floor of my new apartment. A day when I should have been celebrating my freedom, I'd never felt more alone in my life. I had no one I could depend on. No one I could love. No one I could really trust.

A knock at the door startled me.

"Anyone home?" A voice called from outside.

I opened my door and there before me stood both Matt and Josh with all too familiar smiles on their faces.

"We heard you might need some help moving today." Matt said, twirling the keys of his Dad's truck in his fingers.

Without any words, I laughed and immediately wrapped my arms around them both.

>>> Chapter Thirty-Four

My Husband's Thoughts Make More Sense Than Anything Charlie Sheen or Gary Busey Says

Several years ago Matt started ranting off about something that bothered him, and since I had writer's block at the time, I told him to give me a list of all of his pet peeves. Cause seriously, most of it just had me cracking up. Eventually the list became less about pet peeves and more about things Matt just hates, random thoughts that popped into his head, or questions about life, the universe and everything.

And while it may not all make sense...
And you might disagree with some of these (I sure do)...
You have to admit that it makes a lot more sense than anything Charlie Sheen or Gary Busey says or does.

Ever.

Ever ever.

So without further adieu . . .

Things that Bother Matt

(and other stuff)

• I hate people that talk through their teeth.
• The plastic stuff around bologna.
• How my wife hates really good movies, which everyone else thinks is awesome, but she doesn't get it, like Spider-Man, or Field of Dreams.
• Sean Connery retired.
• Joaquin Phoenix was a really good actor, like in Gladiator, he was awesome, but now he's bat crazy!
• How are there still Koala Bears? They're grey, and in the jungle! They don't blend in! They're not even bears!
• And what the hell happened to Mel Gibson!?
• Hollywood beards. They are killing good actors. Bruce Willis was fine bald, and Mel Gibson was fine when he started balding a little bit, but he went nuts when he grew a beard.
• People who honestly defend the movie 'Snakes on a Plane'.
• And the people who defend the movie 'Batman and Robin' for 'what it's worth' should be taken into a room, fed chamomile tea, and then should have to fight Harrison Ford with the whip, and there's a fan in the room, and they throw the whip into the fan . . . (ie: Temple of Doom.)
• Movies with little kids as Emperors and Kings. I realise that it actually happened, but it's still creepy.
• Indiana Jones 4.
• How in like those old cartoons they have a fat man with a mustache and a monkey dancing, and I have yet to see a dancing monkey in real life!
• Comedy Central stopped playing re-runs of SNL.
• How it's impossible to see good classic cartoons. Like the singing frog from Warner Bros. Or even old Bugs Bunny cartoons. They don't play anymore on tv. There is a deficit of good cartoons for kids these days.
• How Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have been dialed down and candy coated to cater to little kids. They have ninja swords (katanas) for crying out loud. They chop people up!
• Turtledoves.
• When you look behind you at the grocery store or leaving for work, and there's someone behind you and they seem to be following you. So you turn around to notice that they are following you, and there's that awkward silence where you make eye contact, so you smile to break the awkwardness, but they don't smile back.
• How I can go to the store to buy salsa, but not take a siesta afterward.
• People who tell me that they don't like The Simpsons, Family Guy and American Dad, but they've never seen them. Or anyone who says they don't like something, but have never seen/tried it.
• How my wife gets free stuff in the mail through the internet (because she enters contests or her online friends send her gifts) but I never get free video games.
• The Alltel guy.
• The T-Mobile guy.
• How stand up guys like Michael J Fox and Christopher Reeves have horrible things happen to them, and yet Bob Saget's still on TV.
• The increasingly downward spiral of M Night Shyamalan movies. His movies haven't been good since Unbreakable. Here's a twist: Your career sucks. You're the one that did it. The end.
• How people say that the Spider-Man movies aren't that good because of Toby Maguire, but it's really Kristen Dunst's fault that the movies are so terrible. The older she gets, the worse her acting gets. Why doesn't she act like a normal person!? I wish I could wear a paper towel roll for a dress and go get drunk with my friends all the time, but I can't! I have a job!
• Why hasn't there been a good video game movie? Why hasn't there been a good movie video game?
• Why is it that comic books and video games are still thought of as kids stuff, when there's more adult games than kiddie games out, unless you play Nintendo more than anything (and you shouldn't.)
• Commercials for some really cool digital book device, and let's me read like four thousand books in one electronic device, and yet the price-tag of the device is $800. If I can find the book for free, why can't I find the device for free?
• How food tastes better when someone else makes it. Even toast and macaroni and cheese.
• People that want to talk to you about politics, and if you try to politely avoid an argument by trying to change the subject, they force you to talk to them about politics.
• How there are still Newspapers. There are boxes of papers outside of stores that say "Pay 50 cents for something that you probably read about on the internet five days ago!"
• How 'rewind' doesn't work as well on DVDs as it did on VHS.
• How no one has made a silent keyboard for the computer. How are ninjas supposed to type?
• How every beer commercial talks about how they have the coldest beer you can buy, but really, isn't that up to my refrigerator?

June 19th, 1986 - You Can Save a LifeIn Memory of Lisa Sanders Crew

June 19th, 1986 was supposed to be a good day.

Lisa Crew had a hair appointment with her sister and afterward she was going to take her two year old daughter over to a friends house to have dinner. Perhaps later into the night they'd all go out to the local amusement park and spend the night riding the rides and eating bad park food.

The youngest of eight children, Lisa had turned twenty-one the year before but had already been living the life of an adult for several years. When she was eighteen years old, Lisa and her high school sweetheart found themselves with a surprise baby on the way. Born a month premature in the spring of eighty-four, the newlyweds did their best to create a family. But sometimes the happily ever after doesn't come out right the first time. By the time their baby was two years old, the couple were divorced.

Lisa wasn't going to let anything stand in her way though. She was already in college studying to become a elementary school teacher. She was a young single mother. She was unstoppable.

Always positive, Lisa had the energy of a ten year old. 4'11 and weighing no more than 110 pounds, she was working on becoming a female body builder. Stories of the events in her life would be passed on for years to come. The time she broke into her ex-boyfriends house by sneaking through his cat door. She once took on an abusive boyfriend of her sisters. He - being over six feet tall and weighing over 200 lbs - was arrested in her stead. The cops didn't believe that a feisty little redhead under five feet tall had beat him senseless.

June 19th, 1986

After leaving their home, Lisa and her daughter headed out in their tiny red car. Doug Smith - a drug addict - was driving at the same time, under an extreme amount of alcohol and cocaine in his system. When the cars collided, Lisa's daughter was tossed from her car seat under the dashboard where both of the two year old's legs and pelvic bone were broken. Lisa - crushed by the weight of the steering wheel - reached across the dashboard to shield her daughters eyes from falling glass.

No one knew whether Lisa died in the car, the helicopter that lifted her into the sky, or at the hospital where she was rushed into the emergency room. All they knew was that June 19th, 1986 a family lost a daughter, a sister, a cousin, an aunt. A man lost the love of his life and any chance at reconciliation. Friends lost a light in the darkness.

 And a two year old little girl was left without her mother.

The world was now less perfect. 

Lisa's friends and family were called one at a time and given news that would change their lives, test their faith and ultimately they were left in a state of shock and horrific confusion.

Lisa's ex-husband had been called at a friends house and given the message second hand, "Your wife is dead and your baby's in the hospital."

Lisa's funeral was held days later, and her two year old little girl wasn't even able to attend. Strapped into a body cast after surgeries to mend her shattered body, all she knew was that her Mom wasn't there anymore.

 Doug Smith was charged with vehicular homicide, driving under the influence of alcohol and drugs, intent to use and possession of drugs and drug paraphernalia.

A murderer was sentenced to only five years in prison.

When released in 1991, Doug Smith was arrested again for vehicular homicide, this time killing an entire family. After receiving another mild sentence for his crimes, he took his own life in prison.

No remorse for the lives he had taken, or for the mother he had stolen from a child.

I know all of this, because my mother - Lisa Margaret Sanders Crew - was murdered June 19th, 1986 by a drunk and drugged driver. And twenty five years later, so many people still don't seem to care. They drink, they use drugs, and then they drive. A large percentage of the ones who do get caught, ultimately get away with it.

Former Miss America, Jennifer Berry said, "The fact remains that drunk driving is 100 percent preventable, yet it continues as a plague of human behavior that we as a society continue to tolerate."

I've outlived my mother by six years, as I recently turned 27. Every year the week of June 19th, I honor my mother. I give myself a moment to cry, to be angry. All other days I remember, and I am thankful that my life was spared.

Pains in my body still plague me from my once broken bones. Other health problems caused by the collision continue to rise as the years move on, though the emotional scars are more apparent. And though I was raised by a wonderful Grandmother, and loving aunts, nothing replaces a Mother in a child's life.

Nothing.

Don't drink and drive.

I've been asked in previous years to pass on this message on a larger scale. Please take a moment to spread the message with me. Feel free to take a button below and post it on your blog or website, pass along the story (and link back here) and sign your name to pledge not to drink and drive!

<a href="http://www.untypicallyjia.com/p/you-could-save-life.html"> <center><img src="http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f32/untypicallyjia/Family/mom2-2.jpg"/></center></a>

Please Pledge to Never Drive Under the Influence

----------

Dear Readers: I get emails and comments often about my mother and your words are so kind and loving. And while your words mean the world to me, they would mean more if they continued beyond my corner of the world. Please spread the message. Add this link to Facebook, blog about it, post the button on your sidebars and tweet the following message:

"Please RT @untypicallyjia  Remember #LisaCrew - Don't Drink and Drive http://tinyurl.com/3g8yo46"

Out of Context

One of my favourite things in the world is to eavesdrop on people who are in the middle of conversations. Mostly because I'm nosey, but also mostly because I think it's hilarious to take things completely out of context.

Then again I'm also one of those people who on occasion will try to make everything anyone says sound dirty. I get bored sometimes. This is actually a really good tip for wives who have to listen to their husbands talk about sports, video games or cars. Of course if you can't control your laughter (like me) it'll actually get your husband super pissed off at you.

But to be fair, they shouldn't use the word "balls" so often.

So today I thought about spotlighting some of my top commenters, only do it in Untypically Jia fashion.

Below I've linked my top five commenters, their blogs and a quote from one of their posts that has been taken out of context. Because it's just more fun that way. And it makes them look just as offensive and awkward as me. And I don't like to be a loner.

Christina from Shiny Object Syndrome

"Two seconds of this and she peed all over me."

(from her post Such a Blonde)

Courtney from Daily Disorders of a Dainty Domestic

"It probably looks a lot like the River of Slime from Ghostbusters II. 

Except there are bits of ostrich feathers, lace, & tulle sticking out of it."

(from her post Random Spring Catch Up)

Charlie from Operation Shrink Charlie's Big Butt

"No, not menopause…"

(from her post The Weigh Things Have Changed)

Stacey from Havoc and Mayhem

"Mutual orgasms EVERY SINGLE TIME!"

(from her post May Reading)

Gina from Fantasy Casting

"super-sex-skills and a weirdly attractive body odor."

(from her post How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf)

Top Ten Awesome Google Searches That Land People on My Blog

I'm always amused by how people get to my blog. I'll admit, sometimes I will purposely blog offensive material just to see who shows up to the party and what they searched for to get here. While I'll never reach the status of great Google searches like The Bloggess, I do have a little crowd of my own special freaks that I love, adore and feel the need to medicate and or sterilize.

 1. "you never know what tomato will bring"

Indeed. I am also reminded of several favourite inspirational quotes like, "The sun will come out, tomato," "Live today like you'll die tomato," and "Today is the tomato we worried about yesterday."

2. "whores you know"

Okay, let's be fair. I'm not surprised by the whore searches.

3. "sad stripper" and "fat pole dancer"

If I knew long ago that there was such a high search for fat pole dancers, I would have made a career change right outta high school! Seriously, with the amount of people getting to my blog in need of glitter covered cellulite, I think I could have made a killing in the naked shake and bake industry. Unfortunately I have no rhythm, can't dance and I can't balance in hooker heels.

4. "pork fat disposal"

This isn't amusing to me. Some people need to know how to dispose of pork fat. It's needed information and I'm glad that I'm here to help clueless housewives everywhere.

5. "end of my rope with needy basset hound"

Me too, pal.

6. "is my husband allowed to see my boobs"

If your boobs and husband are like mine, you never had a choice.

7. "not allowed to touch myself"

I feel your pain. We're talking about breast exams right?

8. "loook into my cleavage"

Feel free. But beware . . . it's where I keep my husband's wallet, a switchblade, a VHS copy of The Bird Cage, and my dignity.

9. "i got fat after high school"

Join the club. And pass the mayonnaise.

10. "do sex shops have laundromats"

Oh jeez . . . I hope not.

Wait . . . scratch that. I hope they do.

Either way this disturbs me on a serious level. Puts terrible images in my head.

I'm glad I buy all my sex toys online.

Do I Look Like a Maid to You?

I bet you think this is a post about cleaning. Or about how my husband thinks I should clean more.

It's not.

Remember a few weeks ago I blogged about how I had become a review blogger for an adult toy store?

Well my first package arrived in the mail shortly before Matt and I began packing for our trip to Santa Fe. It was frustrating at first because I hadn't told him what I picked out and he was insistent on testing out the new product despite not knowing its intended purpose. I had to hide the box in the linen closet for a few days.

During our vacation I was able to sneak it in my luggage without him knowing, and after a trip to a local french bakery up the street from our hotel, I felt inspired to begin my detailed assessment..

I pulled my French Maid Babydoll costume from it's box and went to the bathroom to get dressed in secret.

Why secrecy? Because I'm a big girl. And in the past trying on lingerie has been painful, awkward and embarrassing. Things don't often fit, and if they do fit, they don't fit right. Instead of looking like a sexy goddess in a silk teddy, we bigger girls can end up looking like a sack of potatoes shoved into a silk pillow case that's two sizes too small.

However . . . the French Maid Babydoll not only fit me (as Eden Fantasys does offer plus sizes) it didn't make me look bad. Quite the contrary! It made me look good

The beautiful lace up front was flattering to my stomach, and didn't reveal any extra baggage I may be carrying. The apron covered skirt hit just the right spot on my thighs and the top was easy to tie (and untie for the record). It was comfortable to wear, easy to move around in and honestly, I felt confident wearing it - which hasn't often happened in the past with lingerie.

As for it's effectiveness . . . well . . . it's very effective.

I should mention however that it didn't make me suddenly want to clean.

I would highly recommend this lingerie to any of my friends, especially my curvy girls who have a hard time feeling sexy.

A Note From the Husband: For extra fun, add a french accent.




Disclaimer: I received the above mentioned items to review. All opinions of the above mentioned items are my own and were not influenced in any way. To read my full disclosure policy, click here.

What's My Age Again?

The first step is always the hardest.

Like getting everything out the door on day one of a freaking vacation.

Yesterday we got everything packed and ready for our trip to Santa Fe.

This was the conversation between Matt and I in the car.

Me: Okay, so we've got everything packed, and we just need to drop the pups off at your parents and we should be able to make it to Santa Fe by four.

Matt: Awesome.

Me: Crap! I forgot the damn dog crate. I'll be right back.

*runs back up the stairs, unlocks the door and grabs the dog crate*

Matt: Okay, so we've got everything now?

Me: Yes, drive.

Matt: Did you grab the dog food?

Me: Son of a !@#$!

Matt: You're no longer an adult. You've been demoted to troubled teenager.

Me: Well turnaround, we can get the mail on our way back home.

Matt: Oops.

Me: What?

Matt: I should probably pay the rent when we stop to get the mail.

Me: You didn't pay the rent?!

Matt: Nope.

Me: You've been demoted to young teenager with a drug problem who hangs out with a bad crowd!

*I go and gather dog food, Matt runs and pays the rent - back on the road*

Matt: I paid the rent, so I think I'm back up to adult status.

Me: Maybe. I'm definitely back up to an adult though.

Matt: Not even close, I forgot one thing, you forgot two. You're maybe an emancipated minor.

Me: Yeah but the one thing you forgot was like ten times more important than the two things I forgot.

Matt: Fine, you've been promoted to single teenage mother. You have a lot of responsibility but you're just not very good at it yet.

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Update: Someone pointed out that making fun of teen mothers would probably seriously offend some people and even though I'm okay with offending people, I wanted to point out that I'm pretty sure the type of teenage mothers Matt was referring to are the kind you see on 16 And Pregnant (and then on the News getting arrested). 

Update x2: Plus if it weren't for teenage mothers, I wouldn't exist. Then again I was conceived at a "jungle juice" party so I can't really vouche for how well my own teen parents handled responsibility.