Cel-e-brate!!

Friends, this is a day for the history books!

One that I will remember until I forget!!

A day that brings Corey & Stacie to the masses!!!

....

No really, this is huge.

Well, I mean it's huge for a certain population.

Like, um, those who are concerned about the appearance of their upper arm area.

But I'm sure that is soooo many people.

Try this (don't worry, it's 85% safe), Google "arm fat crease."  Who do you see??

Hmmm?  I'll give you a minute.

....

So??

Who is it that pops up right under a probably very reputable and informational site on the subject of arm fat?!

It's this girl!!  So exciting.  On the subject of arm fat creases I have found my way up the ladder to the number two position of authority on the condition.  It's not something to take lightly, folks.  People look to me before they look to someone else after realizing that I am, in no way, a professional, and that is the highest form of flattery.

So today I'm going to give myself a little pat on the back, let myself know the journey to the top isn't over, and then set off to work on bringing "brownie turd" up to it's rightful number two spot.

Onward.

About that dream...

Raise your hand if whenever you say "I had a dream last night..." you then sing "cuz it looked just like a dream" from the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack that you still listen to because it reminds you of the best movie of eighth grade even though you get all weepy because Leonardo DiCaprio dies at the end.

Me too.

So, I had a dream last night that I pooped on the couch.

Friday Confessions

1.  I haven't been skipping "Confessions" because I've been an angel the past few weeks.  I've been skipping "Confessions" because I was on vacation, and then I was getting ready for vacation, and then I just plain forgot.

2.  Phew.  Glad I got that off my chest.

3.  On Monday I took my car in to get inspected.  I noticed a few weeks ago that "February" was punched, as in that is when it expires.  After dropping it off I got a call from the repair shop:

"Uh, hey this is Bob from Warren Tire..."

"Hi."

"We pulled your car in for that inspection and, um, it was just inspected in February."

"What??"

"Yeah, I mean, unless you want it inspected again, it's good until next year."

I completely forgot.  And not only did I forget, apparently I can't read either.  "February 2013" written on my sticker makes it pret-ty clear when I'm supposed to taker her in again.

4.  I was embarrassed.

5.  I was driving to the mall with my sister, Kimberlie, and we noticed a brightly decorated store called The Monogram Hut.

"Isn't that where they squish your boobs??"

6.  When stuff like that happens I make sure to call everyone I know.  I can't be the only one peeing my pants.

7.  Now I have to stop and actually think before I spell the word monogram. 

8.  I've honked at several people over the past few months for not yielding on the on-ramp.  I kept thinking, "that yield sign is so obvious, why do these people keep ignoring it?!?"

That sign is for my lane.

9.  I should probably have died at least seven times by now, the way I drive.  I play out this hilarious scenario in my head: so there's Jesus standing in Heaven and he's talking to these exhausted angels.  He's like, "guys, I know she's a train wreck," and they're going, "no Jesus, you don't get it, she puts her feet up on the vents to air out her toes,"  and then Jesus goes, "gross, I know, but you gotta keep on truckin', you know, because I need her later."

I have, like, 17 guardian angels where you probably only need one.

I'm not a good driver, is what I'm trying to say here.

10.  I just made Corey's day.  He's been saying this for years.

And speaking of Corey, he just had a birthday yesterday...Yay!

...

Happy Friday to all!  And don't forget you still have time to enter to win one of two necklaces made by me!  All you have to do is, you know, fight some cancer.  Go Here.

Fight Cancer With ME!!

I wear sunscreen.

I don't smoke.

I exercise regularly.

I stand at least five feet away from the microwave when it's in action.

I avoid "mystery meats" and growth hormones.

I have good intentions to eat vegetables and other foods packed with vitamins and antioxidants.

......

I'm scared of cancer, is what I'm trying to say.

I try to avoid it like, well, cancer.

In my list of fears a diagnosis in myself or someone I love is definitely in my top six.

(The Dark is ahead only because it's one of those unavoidable things; it is going to be dark, and that is where serial killers live.)

It literally scares the pants right off of me.  If you said, "Hey, did you know wearing those pants causes cancer?" I would take them off.

And then I would harass you and your mom and your best friend and your neighbor to take all of your pants off too because it would hurt me to see you hurt.

Of course, we would need to find a pants alternative, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

It's this persistent fear that calls me to act.  And to give.

Now, I don't have a lot to give, but I do have some money, and I have some time.  And I know people who have some money and some time too.  So we're getting together to find other people who have money and time....and I think you can see where this is going.

Give some money, people.  If you haven't already donated to a cancer organization, and there are many reputable charities out there, donate to my Relay For Life team.  We are the Super Hearted Heroes led by a survivor who won his battle against cancer.  (Yay!)

And as a thank you I'm giving away two of these felted wool necklaces in mint to two random folks who make a donation.*

I'm still working on a catchy slogan for my campaign.  I don't think "Felt Up For The Cure!" is gonna fit on a button.

Maybe a t-shirt.

So while I work on that, here is what you can do: go to this page, donate a few of your hard earned dollars (but let's make it a little worthwhile, people), come back here and leave a comment like "hey, gimme that necklace" or go simple with "I donated" or be a radical and tell me how cool I am.  Whatever floats your boat, as the cool-kids say.

Giveaway ends 5pm Eastern Time Friday, May 25 and I'll announce the winners ay-sap.

Let's Fight with Felt!!


hey, that just might work....

*necklaces are made by yours truly from 100% merino wool, so they won't be all rashy.  did you know merino sheep have the softest wool of all the sheep?  you're welcome.

My what looks like WHAT?!

Your crotch looks like applesauce.

Um, why thank you.

Of all phrases to use in a Google search 1) why these exact words and 2) why would these exact words bring people to Corey 'n me?

Brownie turds, yes.

Arm fat crease, of course.

But applesauce crotch is not a topic I believe we have covered here on C&S.  In fact, the word "crotch" feels as dirty coming out of my keyboard as "indicator" or "lady smile" would.  And a comparison to applesauce....I just can't make that connection any way I try.

Enlighten me, friends.  I watch Matlock and wear yoga pants that come up to about the middle of my ribcage; I am not hip, is this applesauce crotch what the cool kids are talking about these days?

Eagerly awaiting your reply,
An un-cool kid

Things are happening here

Hello friends.

After very little deliberation because I tend to make impulsive decisions I've decided to take a new direction with the blog-thing:

Jewelry.

...and antics.

With videos.

...and antics.

And a splatter of tutorials.

...and antics.

Obviously I can't escape the day-to-day shenanigans at home; a certain someone I am married to is going to dance around in his underwear and socks, and a certain blogger is going to get her hair caught in a blender.  I can't, in good conscience, keep this to myself, so there will be an element of "married life" to my new gig.

But this new "gig" won't be starting up anytime soon.

I work at a comfortable pace.

So until we're all up and running, just hang on to your britches, giggle to yourself because it looked for a second like I said b*%$ches, get a good belly laugh in there when you think of how that phrase would have sounded if I had typed b*%$ches, and well, just wait because, um, there really isn't much else to do.

I'll see you knuckleheads on the flip side.

Which will be tomorrow, because I have a very disturbing question to pose.

A penny saved is a penny for my wardrobe

I ended a relationship last Wednesday.

...

A four year relationship.

With my smartphone.

It was like giving up an appendage.

Or cable TV.

Or chocolate.

But I exaggerate, really.  It wasn't hard and I rarely notice a difference.  Sure I can't immediately post my thoughts on the economy or the importance of grapefruit to Facebook.  And I can't catch up on celebrity gossip while I wait for my coffee at Coffee Planet.  But I wouldn't consider any of that enriching, anyway.

What is, you ask?

Saving $30 a month...it's en-riching!

See what I did there?

No data plan on my phone bill also frees up several minutes in which I can spend actually communicating with those around me.

Like the girls at Coffee Planet:

"Um, are the bagels good here?"

And Corey:

"Soooooo....."

And even the dog:

"Stop licking that."

The only downside is that I have this ridiculous looking phone.

The Pantech Jest 2; it's the size of the palm of my hand and takes excellent pictures if I do not intend for them to be seen.

I've also butt-dialed myself and many others several times.  It's a sacrifice we all have to make for the sake of my wardrobe...because that's what money saved is for: Frye boots and coral skinny jeans like Kate Middleton's.

That's how I would prefer to be enriched, anyway.  Who needs hand-held access to junk mail when you can have coral skinny jeans?

A question we should all be asking ourselves...