Another One...

Another post where I have nothing to share, nothing to write about...but I felt like I should write something. Y'know?

I could share a story that belongs to someone else...you want me to do that? I will if you really want me to. Okay, you twisted my arm. This story belongs to Morgan. He says "hi" by the way.

A few years ago I was living in LA pursuing my dream of becoming the most fantastic person that ever was - I succeeded by the way. I was headed to work and had to take the bus - either my car was inoperable or it was that time that all of my parking tickets caught up with me and my car was impounded. 

After a few minutes on the bus we are all informed that the driver has to go 500 miles out of the way because a million roads are closed - Obama is in town - of course. This being the day I had to open the store, it made sense that the President of the United States of America would make me late. Taking me 20 blocks away from my desired destination, I finally got off the bus - the driver tried to tell me that he would be circling back around but I don't trust bus drivers that drive buses. It's a thing.

There I am walking in the sweltering heat, dressed in all black, wearing sandals and being mad. Mad. I'm headed down this narrow strip of sidewalk bordered by street and offices. Scowling. I look up and see Dominic Monaghan walking towards me - but like a thousand miles away. So it begins - the awkward "hallway" walk, where it's only two people walking towards each other for miles and you have nowhere else to look, nothing else to do. You don't want to say 'Hi' too soon, you don't want to wait too late...It's maddening and I hate it. Finally we were close enough and we both said "Hi" and I mumbled, "Thank God that's fucking over with.".

I walk into work and am greeted by a coworker, my only response: "Well, I saw that LOST guy today."

The cherry on the fucking cake of life? Obama wasn't even IN TOWN! IT WAS A DECOY!

And that's the story of how President Obama introduced me to Dominic Monaghan.

Apparently so...apparently so.

And there you have it. Now I will get busy making things happen so that I have more to tell you...if you want.



Do you use Pinterest? Of course you do. Hey, me too! TWINSIES!

Well, I've started trying things that I see on Pinterest - not just pinning shit willy-nilly. I decided to try something today. A face scrub to help rid blackheads. Blech.

I have enormous pores. Pores that you can probably see from where you are sitting. I've tried a million things to clean them out and nothing has worked...yet.

Tonight - nutmeg and buttermilk scrub.

I took no pictures. You're welcome.

The instructions said to mix milk and nutmeg - or to mix buttermilk and nutmeg. Buttermilk has more lactic acid and would do an even better job of dissolving dead skin. The nutmeg acts as the...scrubber? Okay.

I poured too much buttermilk into my little bowl and instead of dumping some out I just dumped a ton of nutmeg in there so it would be "pastey". Well, don't do what I did. You don't need very much of the mixture so you'll just end up wasting all of your nutmeg supply for something that you do once per week.

Oh, yeah. Only do this once per week or you will scrub all of your skin off and then you will look like a monster and you will smell like sour milk and church. Also, I think churches smell like nutmeg.

Wash your face. Dry your face. Splash your face with water....or, just don't dry your face when you wash it the first time. Now scrub your face with the nutmeg mixture that you made. Scrub for 3-5 minutes - don't do this around your eyes, focus on where your blackheads or oily skin is. 

Your skin will turn red.

After the scrubbing rinse all of the stuff off of your face. Voila! Blackheads.

Well, at least mine are still there. Now - I'm not nixing this all together. My skin is super smooth! I can definitely tell that it has rid me of excess skin. I can see that a few of them are gone and my skin seems to be a bit tighter. 

I found this little do-it-yourself skin scraper over at Crunchy Betty. I think next week I will try the honey pat down.

Check out the Crunchy Betty site for tons of great natural and money-saving tips.



Have you ever disarmed a bomb? No? Have you ever put a toddler to bed?

It's the same thing...except more dangerous. 

Since being moved to a big boy bed my little perfect sleeper Coop has been an absolute hellion at bedtime and it is slowly murdering my soul. 

We have a bedtime ritual - it involves hugs and kisses to everyone, potty (attempt - almost always fails), change the pull-up, and brush teeth.

Then he has to make sure he has his favorite blanket and any animal he is currently obsessed with. Finally it's storytime. Typically it's two stories but sometimes he can coax a third story out of me - especially if I can get him to chime in on some of the words in the book. It's so damn adorable.

Once he finally lays down he like to have his back patted. Now, my typical rule of thumb is to pat his back for a few minutes and then leave him to fall asleep on his own..HA HA HA right. That involves hours of me putting him back in bed and I just can't do that every night - I have a life and a delicate psyche.

Many nights I will pat his back until he falls asleep - because it's quicker that way. Do you know what this involves? Let me paint you a picture.

I pat/rub his back. He rolls around like a dog in mud for awhile. I continue to pat/rub his back. The sleepier he gets the slower I pat/rub. After his eyes close I stop patting/rubbing all together but leave my hand on his back. After a few moments I slowly lift my fingers off of his back, then my wrist, then my forearm. I keep my arm hovering for a second - just in case the red wire touches the blue wire. Then I slowly - SLOWLY - get up from my seated position next to his bed. It is important that I check my knee proximity to the bed so that I don't hit the bed while I'm getting up. I stand slowly and then proceed to leave the room.

There is a squeaky floor board between the door and bed, I know exactly where this floor board is. I can elegantly step over it avoiding any noise and then leave the room. 

Have you seen the movies where a bomb squad dismantles the bomb and they think all is good and they're walking away all slow-motion and bad ass-like, but then something goes wrong and BOOM! Fiery death ensues!

That's what it's like when Joe goes in and steps directly on that fucking squeaky floor board.

Every. Goddamn. Time.