Tuesday, May 7, 2013

I am blogging, because I have Things To Say.

Okay okay okay, I know. Two posts in less than 2 weeks? What gives? Yeah I don't know who I am lately, either. Working out all the time, wearing Real Clothes to work (I haven't worn yoga pants to work in AT LEAST 8 weeks. What the what!), and blogging somewhat regularly? Yeesh.

A little housecleaning - Katrina has a new blog over here at Capital K, go follow her. I debut in post four, so make sure you read that one first. I also added Nat The Fat Rat to the sidebar over there, she's one of my new favorite mommy bloggers. My what? Yes. I know we've been over the whole kid thing before? But Mommy Blogs are my guilty pleasure. More specifically, Mormon Mommy Blogs. I don't know. But they are fabulous.

The whole reason I'm blogging tonight is because I feel like I have Things To Say but none of them relate to each other in any way AT ALL. So perhaps a list is the best way to go about this:

- I'm in my third week of working out at 5am before work. (I know. "Ellipses." That's what I thought originally too.) I like it SO MUCH BETTER. (I'm in a mood, can you tell?) There's no one there - because people who are right in the head are STILL SLEEPING - but it feels so great to get it done in the morning, and out of the way. So after work I'm not rushing home, rushing to the gym, rushing home, swallow a protein shake and then eat dinner at 830pm. Now, I'm in bed at 830pm. (Which. At first I was like GOOD LORD NANA GET A LIFE. Now? I'm focusing on me and it just feels right. So I can go to bed whenever the hell I please. I haven't been on a dang date in SIX WEEKS. Six! Huhwha? The girl who averaged one a week for 18 months? I know! I'm proud too!)

    •  Unrelated to much of the above but when I get home in the morning I always make a shake and then shower. Today I came home from work and realized I had left my shake cup in the bathroom. Immediately I thought "OH MY GOD I'VE BECOME MY MOTHER." (Love ya Mom!) Because growing up, every single day, there was a coffee mug left in the bathroom with just a ring of creamer in the bottom. When I think of the bathroom at my parents' house (because I do that, often. No?) I think: coffee mug, CoverGirl mascara and pink blush.

- Speaking of makeup, I have a New Favorite Thing that Mama Laughlin posted about - it is L'Oreal True Match foundation. It looks like zis:

I think I use Nude Beige? I could be making that up.
 And there's a True Match app you can download to get the right tone. And I love it, because it covers better than the Mary Kay stuff I was using - thank you baby Jesus and amen.

- Can we talk about Target dressing rooms for a second? Lawd Jeevus I don't know what man decided on the lighting in those dressing rooms, but can we start a petition or something to get them changed? I mean, it starts innocently enough. Darrah texts you to say "THERE'S FLAG BIKINIS AT TARGET." So you text Katrina, "THERE'S FLAG BIKINIS AT TARGET. I'M GOING." And you get in the car, in your threadbare Winthrop Ramblers football hoodie and leggings-as-pants, and you scoot on over to the Target. On your Jack Shit Sunday, where you aren't supposed to be doing ANYTHING but for some reason you are struggling with this. (Again. What is happening to my life?)

You frolic down to the fitting room - you take  in two sizes because you aren't really sure, and really, Target sizing Sucks with a capital S. You lock the door and immediately cringe. WHEN DID I GET THIS PALE? You get undressed and put on the bikini. Keep in mind there is a mirror in front of you, AND a mirror behind you, because every woman NEEDS to be seeing 3 of every angle of her body, At All Times, when trying on bathing suits. (no.) WHAT IS THAT LUMPY BIT RIGHT HERE? AND THIS? I DON'T LOOK LIKE THIS AT HOME! No, you don't look like that at home, because the lighting in your bedroom is soft, and flattering, and lovely. Like an Instagram filter on your life.

Anyway. I bought the bikini (the top is REVERSIBLE. Stripes on one side and stars on the other! Hieeeeeee!!!) because Katrina said, upon receiving Fitting Room Picture of Deathly Pale Sister Wife, "you look like Wonder Woman!! Can I get the same one?!" Katrina wins Sunday.

- I booked my flight home for Hermit Island today, which excites me to no end - that means IT IS REAL AND IT IS HAPPENING. I mean obviously its happening, I'd drive the damn 19 hours to get there if I had to (with much grumbling unless I happened to land upon some stud of a copilot). So. YAY. 86 Days until HERMITS UNITE.

- I have this Foreman grill. That I actually quite like, she cooks things quite efficiently, but she is a Bitch To Clean. Such a bitch, in fact, that she has been perched atop the cupboards in my kitchen since the Bacon Extravaganza of Labor Day Weekend 2012, because I just cannot be bothered. Plus I have to climb on a chair to even get her down. (Found out I was actually 5'6 when I went to the doctors a few weeks ago? All this time. Thought I was 5'5. Has totally changed my outlook on life.) Well, lo and behold, Pinterest comes through again SOLVING LIFE'S PROBLEMS. When you're done cooking, unplug that sucker and put a wet paper towel between the plates - it'll just steam off all that gunk and you can quickly wipe it away. Instead of having to get out the useless scraping tool that never works, or if you live with a useless man like I once did, who is supposed to do the cleaning after you do the cooking, leaves it on the counter for-ev-er and you end up scraping that shit off the next day anyway. Lesson learned? Always trust The Pinterest, Never trust a Useless Man.

- I seem to have taken on the role of Life Coach to a few of my friends lately. I am always known as the No Bullshit BFF. The One With the Answers. Decision Maker. The One Who Doesn't Sugarcoat. So I guess it fits. Gabby said "you should do a column on your blog!" So if I have actual people who want my advice (which, really, who DOESN'T?) I am totally willing to start a "Help me, Helen!" column here. (She came up with a way wittier name than that but of course I cannot remember it.) Obviously I will keep everything anonymous and you can ask me basically anything - I mean, lets keep it rated less than NC-17, but I'm open to topics. So if you want to be a part of this, you can email me at helen the fabulous @ gmail . com - if no one emails me I may just start making topics up on my own. Because opinion.

- My friends and I, who text All The Livelong Day, have a system for checking in with each other regarding our Current Emotional State (CES - invented by NICOLE). Because let's face it - we are all late twenties and there are Things To Be Concerned About.

We gauge ourselves on the color scale below - yes, it does resemble the Terrorism Scale. And also rainbow. Purple means you are basically comatose, and have no thoughts or feelings regarding your current situation. It escalates until you hit Red, which means anyone and everyone get the hell out of the way because she's gonna blow.

Coma Purple Blue Green Yellow Orange Rage Blackout Red 

"Excuse me, helenthefabulous? Magenta sparkle isn't on the Terrorism Scale." No, you are correct, it is not. However. Magenta Sparkle is like, THE BEST OF THE BEST MOOD EVER. Pink and glitter and fairy dust. This mood is saved solely for Hearing From Crushes (we are 27, do we even have CRUSHES anymore? How does that work?), Getting A Raise At Work, and other such Big Events that otherwise are not given any justice on the regular CES scale.

Today my mood is clearly Tie-Dye since I am all over the place, so I hope you enjoyed this. Closing it out with a little Macklemore (Katrina, "Macklemore is white!" "Yes.") - enjoy your week bloggies!


  1. 86 days! We can do this.
    I laughed out loud at much of this post and had to read a lot of it to dad. Not sure it had the same effect reading it out loud. Perhaps I need to work on my 'Helen inflection'. I could totally relate to your feelings on your George Foreman - it's why mine now lives with Gabby.
    I will keep any eye on my CES - I'm much more familiar with HEF (Head Explosion Factor).


  2. Love this post. Love the Ramblers sweatshirt and bit on Target dressing room. I, too, hate the mirrors. Love the advice about the George Foreman. Maybe now I'll actually use mine.