Special Monday: Bridesmaids

You know that really hilarious scene in Bridesmaids, where everyone gets food poisoning and the Bride loses it out in the street.

Yeah... well that almost happened to me last week while on a run with my sister. We were about a mile in a half away from home. It took prayers to God and my sister saying "this will be the best day of my life if you shit your pants right now" for me to keep it together (no way in hell was I going to give her that kind of satisfaction)

And besides unlike in Bridesmaids I wasn't wearing a convenient dress- I had some nice ol' spandex leggings on- nowhere for that to go if you know what I am saying.

Things didn't get much better when I got home either. Let's just say it's a miracle my husband is still attracted me after what went down.

Oh the shame.

Special Monday

Having the clerk- or whatever they are called- at Walmart tell you that you look just like Melissa Gilbert and then them getting seriously pissed off at you for not knowing who that is.

Uh sorry? 

And I'll try not to be offended since Melissa Gilbert is like in her 50's.  I purposely tried to find her most attractive looking picture.

I still prefer this as my celebrity look-a-like. Thank you very much.

Special Monday

This will only take one sentence.

Accidentally sending a "naughty" picture of yourself to your father.

And please spare me the Freudian comments on how "they are no such things as accidents and what not".

Special Monday

Dirty Dash Spring 2012

On my way out of the apartment the other day I decided to take our trash out to the dumpster.  As I was tossing the trash into the dumpster- midair- I realize my car keys were also on their way into the very large-smelly-overflowing-apartment dumpster. Our only set of car keys.

I don't know about you but I know I am always up for a good dumpster dive.

Dumpster = 1
Me = 0

Special Monday

via

When your grocery list flies out the window on your way to the grocery store . .

You take it as a sign to spend your whole grocery budget on ice cream.

Yep, that's how I do things.

Special Monday

best auntie ever right here

As we were at the airport waiting to board our flight back to Salt Lake I had made a comment to my co-worker how maybe paying the $15 charge for an upgraded seat might have been worth it. She responds by saying yeah but it's $15 per leg. In which I respond with a dropped jaw and shocked response of WHAT?!?!?! You have to pay per leg! Don't most people have two legs!!! That's ridiculous! A bunch of people around me bust out in the giggle fits and correct me... each leg of our trip... since we had a layover. 

In my opinion, I don't think I was the special one here.  I was set up. 

Special Monday

That moment when you see someone that looks just like you, and they see you too, and you know you are both thinking the exact same thing and you just sit there staring at one another and then you suddenly start to feel really uncomfortable and you both walk away really fast.

Special Monday

This Monday I bring you an awkward public bathroom moment.

To preface the story, let's just say it was that time of the month for me.  I had gone to the restroom at work to uh.. you know change out my tampon and as I had just finished you know umm.. (okay now I am making this awkward all over again) I had just put the new tampon in and as I was taking out the applicator, it drops to the ground and rolls under to the occupied stall next to me.

Please just kill me now. 

Special Monday

A couple of summers ago as I was driving down a busy street, I pulled the visor down to block the sun from my eyes and as I did a spider, yes a spider, fell from the visor and down my shirt and into my cleavage. 

This wasn't any little baby spider either. So Naturally, I freak. 

Somehow I manage to pull off to the side of the rode without killing anyone, jump out of my car and like a maniac I immediately begin to strip off all my clothing. 

Luckily this was a few summers ago, If It had been this summer I am sure I would have been the butt of  many "bath salt" jokes. 

As I sit there on the side of the road half naked, my hair a mess, and breathing like I had just ran a marathon, I look around at the audience I have acquired and I... curse my husband. 

The night before I had given him a lecture for parking the car in the garage with the sunroof open. I had specifically said that spiders could get in the car. But of course he thought I was just being a paranoid woman. 

Yep, paranoid. 

Special Monday

My flight to Spain was a special one. Between the brownie incident and this, I was ready to jump, good thing we weren't sitting in an emergency exit row.

As the flight attendant was walking through the cabin doing her checks, I handed her my garbage and asked her if she could "delete" it.  Proof right there that I spend way to much time with on my electronics.

Special Monday: No fancy subtitle this week.

Segovia, Spain

My sister thinks these pants are special, as does my husband. And not in a good-special-way. But this post is not about these pants.

It's about using the self-timer on your camera. When husband and I reached the top of our hike in San Sebastian we wanted to take a photo of us together with the background behind us and the photos where you both try to squeeze in the shot holding the camera at an arms length away was just not cutting it. With no tripod in hand I put my creative skills to work and created a make-shift tripod, set the self-timer on the camera, and ran my little behind back to my spot next to the husband, with a smile plastered to my face, we wait. And wait some more, and through my plastered-on smile I try to murmur why isn't the camera going off? If you have ever tried to speak while smiling, it's very difficult.

I get up and go back to the camera to see what's up and I notice that the camera is in video mode. It had been taking video of us just sitting there posing for a picture the whole time.

I'm not going to post the awkward video of us sitting there and me trying to talk while smiling- but I am sure your imaginations are better then the reality.

Happy Monday!

Special Monday: The Inflight Flight

(lost in the "Land of Ulibarri")

On our overnight flight to Madrid from New York we were fed a questionable meal. You know typical airline food. The highlight of the meal was this pre-packaged brownie that looked edible enough. Who am I I kidding, if it's chocolate I'll eat it, no questions asked, doesn't matter what it looks like. 

Husband is passed out next to me, I can never sleep on flights. Trying to be quite and not disturb sleeping husband I muster up some strength to open up the tricky packaging on my brownie. But I underestimate my strength and as I rip open the cellophane my brownie flings across the plane.

To put this in some perspective, I drew you a picture; see exhibit A.

exhibit A

As you can see, my brownie got some distance. So what does one do, when your brownie flies across a plane? You sulk, because you were really looking forward to eating that darn brownie. 

But not is all lost... I feel a tap on my shoulder and the guy sitting behind me in the next aisle hands me his brownie and with a smile he says, "that just made my flight" embarrassed, I nod and say thank you and shamefully take his brownie, but this time I am much more careful opening it.

Shame has never tasted so good.

Special Monday

I stapled my shirt to a piece of paper then tried to hand it to someone. They almost walked off with my shirt dangling from their paper.

Awesomeness.

Special Monday

Bronx is one with the force.

I am a sucker for picking up strays on the side of the road. I mean- hey, if my little pup got loose I would hope someone would do the same for him- with the intent of finding me of course and not keeping him for themselves and all... it happens.

One afternoon while driving home from the grocery store, I spotted what seemed to be a little dog on the side of a somewhat busy road- I of course I pull over to save the day.  As I get out of the car I quickly realize this isn't a little dog-  what it was, almost tore my head off.

Long story short, I almost brought my little Bronx home a potentially rabid, ferocious, little fox/coyote/whatever to play with.

Special Monday

Let's talk embarrassing moments shall we. Almost a year ago I eluded to an embarrassing moment that had occurred in this post here but at the time the wounds were to fresh to elaborate.

Well it's been a while- so I thought I'd share. I am going to be quick and to the point with this:

I passed gas in an interview. Loud gas.

I am going to go die now.

Special Monday

Me explained via my Pinterest board:

And here I thought I was the only one.

Sad. But true.

I'm awkward in social settings.

At least my kind of happiness is.

This is me and religion.

which when you think about it, this takes more effort.

duh.

Social media has given me ADD.

why are those things so tricky?

even the husband can relate to this one.

Special Monday

This picture? Cheese? Yes.

But that's not all that is special.  What is special is having a co-worker ask you if your shirt is supposed to be inside-out. Uh yeah... of course? At least I totally played it off that way and decided just to keep my shirt inside out for the rest of the day.

Thanks co-worker.

Special Monday

We have all heard of a bad hair day but what about a bad face day?  I have these more often then bad hair days.  On these days I wish that sporting a ski mask was an acceptable fashion accessory to wear to the office.

Special Monday

Can I just say that I count my lucky stars just about every day that my generation barely missed the tech age.  If youtube had existed there is no doubt that this would have been me.

No doubt at all.

Special Monday

As we age many of us get into the habit of knocking off a few years when asked that dreaded question, "how old are you?"

I on the other hand like to add about five or so years to my actually age, this comes particularly in handy since half the time I have to pull out a calculator and do some quick calculations just to figure out how old I am anyway.  So making up an age is a lot easier to remember.

The logic behind saying I am older then I am is that I am more likely to get that wonderful comment, "wow you look so much younger!" which lets just be honest is way better then telling someone your real age and getting no comment at all, and a nod of the head.