What up doods! Let’s catch up a bit, shall we?
Can we all take a moment to rejoice in the fact that it’s Thursday! Which means the weekend is almost upon us. (Fistpumphighkick!)
So, we’re in the process of adding a closet to our master bedroom. And by we, I mean our super nice contractor and his buddy with the dreadlocks (who is also a cat person…?). They’re great guys but is it ok that I still feel weird about leaving pseudo-strangers alone in my house all day? I don’t really worry that anything creepy is going on, it just feels strange ya know? This morning, right after they’d arrived, I noticed a roll of toilet paper on the dining room table. I wasn’t really sure what it meant… do they think they can’t use ours? Is ours not plush enough? Not enough plys? Whatever the reason, I made a joke to one of the guys like, “you know, we have plenty to spare” as I pointed at the roll on the table… and all I got was a confused stare in return. Either he didn’t get the joke OR I’m now wondering if maybe I actually left it on the table? If I did, I have no idea why. Casey, did you leave it there? Regardless: awkward.
Let’s see, what else?
Tomorrow Casey and I are going to Montana for a wedding, which I’m super excited about. I haven’t been to Montana since I went on a roadtrip with my family in the third grade. Luckily this time we’re flying and not driving an astro van. I’m also excited that we have our fancy new camera to take with us, so hopefully there will be some fancy new camera pictures to share next week.
On a totally un-related note, I went bra shopping earlier. (Disclaimer: Dad/brothers/any men related to me/any men in general may not want to read past this point. You’ve been warned.) I’ve been feeling like the old boulder holders have been ill-fitting lately so over my lunch break I headed to Nordstrom to get properly fitted. Not the most fun experience in the world, especially when you’re standing half-naked in front of a stranger, in lighting that resembles that of a truck stop bathroom, in a shitty old bra. The saleswoman was a saint though and made it seem as normal as possible… if that’s possible… to be measuring my boobs. And it turns out I’m a whole cup size larger than I thought? Crikey. So the saleswoman (AKA my new breast friend) brought me some stuff to try on and voila! I am now the proud new owner of a pretty brassiere that allows me to bend AND snap. Reese Witherspoon would be proud. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and my tator tots seem to be comfortably happy in their new home.
Well, if you made it past that story, you’re a true friend. Or a truly bored enemy.
On that note! A daily dose of Gus, the world’s worst assistant:
Shawnna and her boobs
So something weird happened. And I’m gonna tell you about it.
The other night Casey and I went to check out a house that had just come on the market. We met our realtor Erin out on the sidewalk and checked out the front yard a bit before heading up the porch to the front door. (Note that this was an old Portland house, so that front porch was loud and squeaky and not at all condusive to a stealthy surprise visit. If anything, it would certainly sound the alarm to anyone inside that they had company. Just sayin’.) So anyways, we’re chatting and Erin’s using her little realtor fob thing to get the key out of the lockbox when Casey said, “Uhhh I think someone is in there”. So of course I turned to look through the giant front window to see if I could see anyone. Sure enough, 10 seconds later, a NAKED lady walks from the bathroom to the bedroom. Awk.ward.
I’m pretty sure she didn’t see us. Which obviously is better for her pride and embarrassment level but is also super weird. Because how would you feel if three strangers saw you naked and you had no idea? Ponder that for a minute… (and preferably while you’re in the nude to get the full effect.)
Honestly though it blows my mind that she would be naked in the first place. My disbelief is threefold: A. You have a really big front window. B. You have no curtains on said front window. C. Your house is on the market! People are going to be trying to look through your windows even when they don’t have a scheduled showing (which we did! But she apparently missed the memo or forgot or something.) The only rationale I can come up with is one-fold: You’re an idiot. A naked idiot.
So anyways, we left her to her business and ended up going back the next day to view the house (sans nudity) and hated it. Not sure if it was because of how fugly it was or because it was haunted with naked lady judgement… but either way, it wasn’t for us.
And of course we told some friends about the incident and one of them (a guy, duh) asked if naked lady was hot. To which the husband responded “wellllllllllll…. it was kind of hard to see….” (side-eye). Which in boy talk means “yes she was bangin but i can’t say that because my wife is karate chopping me with her stare right now.” Because honestly, it was slightly dark but even I got a decent look. And those tator tots were per-etty perky. Weren’t they Casey!?!
So even though we didn’t find our dream house, at least naked lady inspired my to do list for today:
1. Go to the gym (because if a stranger is going to see me naked, i better look good)
2. Buy curtains (in case i don’t make it to the gym)
3. Make tator tots for dinner (because YUM!) ((And then repeat step 1))