Fun Fact: The average American consumes 4500 calories on Thanksgiving.
There’s nothing quite like stuffing three days worth of food in your face in one sitting, right? Sure, you might be stuck wearing sweatpants for a few days since your pants won’t button over your bloat. Or your digestive system will go into shock and revolt against you. Exciting side effect to look forward to? Explosive diarrhea.
Which leads to a Bonus Fun Fact: Thanksgiving is the busiest day for plumbers.
…. I think it’s a good time to come together and say a prayer for all of the plumbers out there who have to deal with a lot more gravy than what’s served on their plates this week.
Social gatherings are a butt-clenching experience for me. I’m not too bad holding a conversation one-on-one, but with a lot of people? Terrible. Just terrible. You know when you’re somewhere noisy and trying to have a conversation so you speak louder? And all of a sudden, there’s this wave of silence and you find yourself shouting something ultra embarrassing like “THEN HE TOLD ME I HAD A BROWN STAIN ON THE BACK OF MY PANTS.” Everyone stares at you awkwardly like they did when you passed out in college and didn’t know your friends drew dicks all over your face. Well… I feel like I have dicks on my face every day.
I thought my social anxiety would get better as I aged — but it seems to be doing the opposite. I guess I will forever be the awkward adult drawing cat pictures at the kids table, talking about My Little Pony, and throwing dance parties while everyone else is drinking beer and watching football in the other room. At least I’m the favorite aunt, I guess. You win some, you lose some, you know?
Socially savvy people — I will forever be envious of you. I don’t know how you do it.
Off topic: I read somewhere that the weekend before Thanksgiving has the highest rate of relationship break-ups in the US. What a way to start the holidays, right? Good luck out there today, guys.
(Photo Credit : South Park/Comedy Central)
Marriage is awesome. Not only do you get to share everything in your life with someone, cook for them, and clean up after them. It also gives you the chance to come to terms with things that embarrass the hell out of you. Like the smell you leave behind in the bathroom after your morning cup of coffee, or the daunting idea that someone besides your mother will know you have hair that grows above your lip that you have to wax. Or, in my case — having the sleep farts.
I don’t know if having relaxed muscles and letting wind escape in the middle of the night is common or not, but imagine the horror I felt when I came to the realization it was uncontrollable. There was no more running to the bathroom and pulling my butt cheeks apart to let them silently escape and I could only blame the random noises in the middle of the night on our cat so many times. I was all in. I was married. I had to own up to it, and get over it. Man, the first year of marriage was interesting. I’ve become a lot more comfortable about the weird things I do in private since then. Obviously.
Another perk of being married: I’ve been able to try different careers out without any training. I’ve been a masseuse. A chef. And,most commonly — a barber. Would you trust me with scissors around your hair? You probably shouldn’t. One time, I cut a huge chunk off the top of Alex’s hair, which forced him to wear a hat for a month. But, he forgave me, and here I am… still holding the title of the resident barber. Bless his heart.
On a serious note: Find the person that treats you right and makes you happy. Don’t let go. Whether you want to get married or not… there’s no greater feeling than being blindly in love.
I hate that I’m one of those people that gets annoyed by so many things… The sound of people clipping their nails. The fact that it’s socially unacceptable for me to let my leg hair grow out. When I’m singing along with a song in the car and the artist gets it all wrong. That I can’t live a healthy life just on cupcakes. I could go on all day. One of the things that annoys me the most: when someone invents something that’s stupid as hell and becomes a millionaire.
How many people face-palmed when ‘silly bandz’ became popular a few years ago? Hell, I did. Rubber bands in different shapes. That’s all they were. Yet, kids walked around for a solid year with them stacked all the way up to their armpits. There were hoards of them. Foaming at the mouth, begging and pleading their parents for them in every store I went into. For rubber bands. Rubber bands, people. The things that come free wrapped around your celery.
Don’t even get me started on pet rocks. What the hell is with that?
I can’t tell you how many times stupid inventions have come around and it makes me question my intelligence. WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT? BLAIR, YOU DUMBASS. Just think — we are all one stupid idea away of becoming millionaires and living the rest of our lives doing nothing but eat cake and be lazy. The true American dream.
Fun Fact: A pig’s orgasm can last up to 30 minutes.
Am I the only one that’s pissed about this? This seems pretty unfair. What the hell, God? Is this the price we are paying for eating pigs? If we give up bacon, can we have one last for 30 minutes too?
As I was searching for pig pictures, I came across Esther The Wonder Pig. Have any of y’all heard of her? She was supposedly a “mini-pig” but turned out to be massive. I wonder if you can house-train pigs. Holy shit, she is cute. I want a pig roaming around my house, as long as they aren’t leaving massive poops on my kitchen floor. I’ve been obsessing all morning looking at her Instagram photos. Go look.
You know those assholes that are already decorating for Christmas even though Thanksgiving hasn’t even rolled around yet? What the hell, right? Can’t we take one holiday at a time? Stop trying to shove Christmas down our throats with your pretty lights, touching TV ads and joyful music. Enough is enough already.
Well… I am one of those assholes. I love all things Christmas. The earlier the better, I always say.
My love for the holidays took a horrific turn last night, though. When a 2 inch long roach crawled out of one of the decoration boxes that we had brought in from the garage. I almost had a heart palpitation. This bitch was so big I could literally hear him crawling on the floor from 5 feet away. I panicked. Fight or flight? What do I do? Am I actually able to approach and kill this thing without gagging and throwing up everywhere? If I don’t kill it, it will for sure eat my eyelids in my sleep.
Then, a 6 pound hero emerged. She raced over and chomped the roach right in half and stood guard on the box until Alex got home to take over. She just may have saved my eyelids from being eaten last night. Go adopt a homeless cat. Save your eyelids, people!
(the panic was real)
(Okay, I know she doesn’t give a crap about guarding a box for me and just wanted a tasty snack. But still — go adopt a homeless cat, anyway)
You know how parents are ultra embarrassing when you’re growing up? Maybe it’s their undying love of Birkenstocks, or when they try to say trendy things like “that’s cray” and “chillax” or even how they clip their toenails onto their plate after they finish eating. Well, at the ripe age of 28, I’ve come to the realization that this embarrassment never ends. It just evolves into something different.
(picture taken in Palm Springs, CA this past summer)
Mom: Blair, did you see this sign? Maybe you shouldn’t swim today.
Me: Uh… I’m fine, mom. No diarrhea here.
Mom: But, I saw you rush to the bathroom when I was getting water in the middle of the night. I just assumed it was urgent. Is everything working okay down there? Have you seen a doctor lately? Diarrhea can make you dehydrated. Make sure you drink more water today.
Me: Thanks, mom. I’m good. Just a routine visit in the night.
Mom: Do you remember that time you pooped in the bath tub when you were with your sister? I can think of a couple times you went in the water when you were little. I don’t know what it was… but, you liked to let loose once you hit water. I think it relaxed you. It was so weird.
What’s more humiliating: my mom deciding to loudly discuss my issues in public, or the woman who was frantically pulling her kids out of the water while they were crying, thinking there was actually a possibility I would crap in there? Thanks for the vote of confidence, lady. I’m almost 30.
When I was growing up I had an irrational fear of being humped by dogs. There were quite a few years they scared the absolute shit out of me. Not because I thought they would attack and bite me… but, I thought they would cling onto my leg and make me their bitch. I used to wake up from nightmares of dogs chasing me just so they could knock me over and help themselves to my limbs.
It seems pretty weird, I know. I actually had no idea what humping was at that time. Guys, I grew up under a rock. I was one of those awkward, overly sheltered, strange kids that liked to sit in the corner and pick my nose. When we first met, it was highly likely you’d assume I was home-schooled. (My husband was home-schooled, so I can say that without it being offensive…right?) All I knew was that a dog had tried before, and my grandpa had smacked his butt and pushed him away, calling it gross. After that, I lived in fear of it happening again.
(Layton. A dog Alex and I fostered for a few months last year)
Now, I love dogs. Hell, I love all animals for the most part. But the same fear still manifests itself now. I can’t watch a nature documentary without having the remote readily available. You bet your ass I’m changing the channel if any sort of animal mating comes on the screen. And, there is still part of me that gets a little nervous and sweaty when we are planning a trip to the zoo.I don’t want to see something that, you know… can’t be unseen. I know, I know. It’s the circle of life. It’s what animals do, they are just procreating. It’s nature. Grow up, Blair… you’re 28. That’s why it’s called an irrational fear, people.
Well, today is Veteran’s Day here in the US. Not only did my grandfather protect me from a hump-happy dog, he also kicked some Nazi ass in WWII. Thanks, Grandpa. Miss you. Please don’t roll over in your grave because I’ve included you in a post about humping.
And, thanks to all veterans for your service. I’d buy all of you lunch if I could afford to.
Fun Fact: You can catch chlamydia from a koala.
Well, there goes my dream of flying to Australia to get my cuddle on with a koala. I guess the only way I can scratch that off my bucket list is to buy this costume for Alex to wear. Kinky, eh? Furries, anyone?
I’ve been nominated for a Liebster Award. I see them floating around everywhere, and I truly have no idea what they are. What I haven’t seen around : who wins. anybody? what do I get if I win? who chooses the winner?! WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?
So, I’ve decided I’m going to do a rebel-version of the award “rules” and just answer the questions. The only reason I’m doing gonna do it is because the person who nominated me is pretty awesome. She cracks me up. Go visit Sandra’s blog “what sandra thinks” here.
Her questions were:
How many different places have you lived and which was your favorite?
I’ve lived in 7 different states here in the US: Massachusetts, New Jersey, Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, Utah, and currently North Carolina. My favorite was Utah — friendly people and snow-capped mountains. Hello.
Describe yourself in 5 words or less.
My cat has her own room. (six words — but it says a lot)
Who is your hero or idol?
JK Rowling. A bit cliche, but growing up I always thought it was amazing how she could captivate an audience.
Where is your favorite place on earth?
Anywhere coffee, sweatpants, and fuzzy slippers are socially acceptable to wear all day.
What is your most-loved childhood memory?
Races with my sister to see who could poop the fastest. Kids.
What annoys you most?
When people are unwilling to see something from another’s perspective. Or anything foot related. Feet are disgusting.
If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, health concerns aside, what would it be?
Pizza or Chinese food. Not real Chinese food — the bastardized American version.
Where would you go on your perfect vacation?
A margarita and a beach is all I need.
Rather than pass it along to other people, I thought it would be fun to just ask my own question to anyone who wants to answer. I’m going to base it off my favorite question of Sandra’s.
What is your funniest childhood memory? (kid stories always make me laugh)