You better believe that I received an award for my awesomeness. Lezlee Hayes nominated yours truly for a blogging award. I feel honored, because Lezlee is such an amazing lady, and quite possibly has the raddest house in all of Phoenix, and I basically want to be her. You should probably go ahead and click on over to her blog, and check out her amazingness. OR, her home is on apartment therapy. She is definitely creating some serious envy. I went to her house for a break the fast BBQ, and I definitely felt like I should have worn a cuter outfit. Wow, I’m rambling. Girl crush?
Anyway, a requisite of receiving said award is that I am supposed to tell you seven things about myself that you don’t know. One of them is supposed to be the story of my first kiss.
1. Here goes. I kissed Chantry Torres in kindergarten. He was dreamy and had a “tail.” (You know, the long piece of hair in the back. Like a skinny, skinny mullet. (It was 1990.)) And I used to play a lot of kissing tag in elementary school. But my first real kiss was the beginning of Jr. High. I was in eight grade, and I was “going out” with a ninth grader, Chase Miller. His hair looked like ramen noodles, and he had braces. I think I was taller than him. But he was still handsome. He came over to my house, and we went on a walk to the elementary school a couple blocks away. We kissed on the playground, and I thought it was overly spitty.
2. I have a chapstick obsession. I can’t go anywhere without it. But I only use Burt’s Beeswax. If by some reason I forgot to bring my Burt's Bees, I panic and the only thing I can think about is how chappy my lips are. If forced, I will sometimes borrow someone’s chapstick. But it depends on the brand. And the flavor. If I can’t find an acceptable chapstick, I will find some alternative. Like butter. But butter doesn’t work well at all. I hate “Chapstick” brand chapstick. Especially the cherry. Even the thought of cherry makes me want to throw up. I also hate Blistex, but I especially hate Lipsmakers. Barf. I used to eat a lot of lipsmackers when I was young, and I can’t stand them now. I think the main problem is that I am afraid if I use flavored chapstick I will accidentally eat it. This has happened. Before Burts, I used to use Softlips, but then I accidentally ate some, and now I can’t stand it.
3. I hate doing the dishes. I regularly have fantasies of having kids, for the sole purpose of doing the dishes. But also I want kids for good reasons too, other than slave labor. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that "chores" are a definite perk.
4. When Craig left on his mission, he gave me a fish, Gill the fish. He told me that if I kept it alive he would call me when he got home, but if I killed it then no. Well, he lived, but then died about a year after Craig came home. I was so sad, for like two weeks, and I couldn’t bear to flush him. I buried him in a jewelry box in Craig’s parents backyard. I still get sad when I think about it, and I haven’t had a pet since. I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.
5. When I have a lot to do, I feel so overwhelmed and don’t know where to start, so I usually end up laying on the couch and doing nothing. It’s a super good habit. And that is probably why the dishes aren’t done and the floors aren’t mopped, but I’ve watched every episode of Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia at least twice. Its Always Sunny is, without a doubt, the best show since Arrested Development.
6. I talk in my sleep, but not about anything good. Pretty much all my dreams are about decorating, or home décor. Or clothes. I usually say “That is SO cute!” But a lot of times a dream up my outfit for the next day, so that’s a plus. Sometimes Craig writes down what I say. His favorite is “What do I have to do? Go over there looking super hot? Well, okay.” I also sleep walk, and have been know to wake up in my panties outside my college apartment in the snow, and bleeding on my deck at the Sykes palace. I’ve yet to die.
7. I call my brother-in-law Cory "babe." I think it is a good nickname.
I'm also supposed to nominate seven people. But I don't think seven people read my blog. So, I guess if you are reading this, consider yourself nominated. And what's with all the sevens?
There are some other rules, but I forgot them. I'm not big on rules.
Two weeks.
