Thanks!
This picture is a giant lie, because OH MY GOD do you see how skinny my arm looks?!
Today’s autism walk was a complete success! I was very happy to be part of it, and even happier knowing our team kicked ass at fund raising. A big thanks to my readers who donated, and to Rlo who carried my bag for most of the walk. I rewarded him by not making fun of his sunglasses.
Dear Utah Residents,
I’m extremely sorry for yesterday’s snowy weather. While I don’t normally control the weather I did offer a prayer to baby Jesus for miserable weather to get out of playing kickball. But that damn baby Jesus showed me a thing or two by providing sunny weather by game time.
Like I said, I’m very sorry and will never pray again. Ever. Unless I see some amazing new jeans that I can’t live without, in which case I’ll throw myself on the department store floor begging and praying for a sale. But otherwise consider me prayer free!
Love,
Sarah
For this week’s column go here.
I’m boycotting Costco. And by boycott I mean I’ll go again soon but will pout the entire time. They used to carry coconut-covered cashews and now they don’t. Clearly they don’t understand this girl needs her crack back.
I took matters into my own hands; I found this recipe online and headed to the store. On my list was cream of tarter. One problem. I didn’t actually know what cream of tarter was. I suspected a spice due to the recipe quantity so I headed directly to the spice isle.
After what felt like hours of looking I decided to ask for help. I picked the older gentleman wearing elbow patches on his jacket and professor glasses. Dude looked smart enough to know what this mystery spice looked like. When I explained I don’t typically bake and wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for the man looked down at my hand and said, “Oh honey, that’s why you don’t have a big rock on your finger.” As he handed me the cream of tarter of the shelf I may or may not have said, “Thanks old man prick.”
I’m soooo thankful this exchange took place. Now I can memorize every spice and snatch up a husband in no time. Fucker.
When I got home I started toasting the coconut according to the recipe and upon reading the recipe further found I needed a candy thermometer—which, of course, I don’t own.
I messaged Rlo, told him I was baking and needed help. He read the recipe and instead of offering to come rescue me from possible life-threatening burns he offered the following, “Sarah, technically you’re not baking. This is candy.” To which I replied, “Technically you can SHOVE IT!”
When I moved my site from blogger I started paying hosting services. As much as I love blogging I don’t want to pay money to blog, hence the ads. Forgive me.
After paying hosting fees any extra income will be deposited directly to my college fund. As readers you should all pat yourself on the backs, after all, it’s entirely possible you’ll be helping me finish my degree.
I thank you, and my dog thanks you. I have considered adding her to an illicit ring of pug porn in order to pay textbook costs. I think we can all agree this is a much better option.
Me: I have a new recipe for you to try on BFF night: One can frozen pink lemonade concentrate, vodka, one pitted peach and ice. Blend and drink.
Rlo: Sounds easy, just like everyone after drinking it.
Me: Ohhh Rlo, that is why I love you! Well that and you put up with my constant abuse, wear pink underwear and love my dog so very much.
Rlo: I must be some sort of angel.
Me: Or a masochist.
I’m second-guessing my decision to move in with my brother Ben. I called him last night to go over some small details and was very displeased with the results.
“Hey, Ben, can my shoes live in your bedroom since it’s bigger and there are so many of them?”
“No.”
“OK, well can I paint the bathrooms pink?”
“No.”
“Even though it’s my favorite color?”
“No.”
“Can I put Daisy’s name on the mailbox? As you know she’s way more human than dog.”
“No.”
I just don’t feel like he’s being supportive of my needs as a shoe whore/pink obsessed/crazy dog lady.
I’m going to do something a little different this week with the photo of the day. Instead of posting random snapshots from my iPhone, I’ll be posting photos of a pretty spectacular little boy and me. This is the little boy I’ll be walking for on Saturday at the Utah Autism Speaks Walk.
Thanks to The Kid‘s hard work, my previous dating column archives are all in one spot. Nerds are seriously the best thing ever! Well that and Tivo, which is technically the work of nerd so… oh, and Rlo. He’s the third best thing ever–even if he does drink the last of a shared Diet Coke in the movie. Actually, now that I think about it Rlo isn’t third, he’s fourth, Diet Coke is third.
Damn it. I changed my mind. Comcast Cable is the fourth best thing ever. Rlo is number five. So the order is: 1) Nerds 2) Tivo/DVR 3) Diet Coke 4) Comcast Cable 5) Rlo.
Why did Comcast make the list? As much as I love a good dose of sperm, TV seemed like hardly the place to get it.
Last night, Rlo and I had dinner with Mrs. AK and her kids. After dinner Little AK asked me to read her a story and tuck her in. This has been a longstanding tradition between the two of us, until recently, when she’s decided Rlo can join us.
No matter which book I choose, Little AK wants the male character to be called Rlo-pants. He blushes and I oblige. The three of us crawl into her tiny PINK! bed to hear the story. As I turned over the last page, Little AK immediately dismissed Rlo from her bedroom, so that I could tuck her in properly.
As I was picking up her stuffed animals and placing them on her bed, she looked up at me and said, “Goodnight, Sarah, I love you more than Rlo.”
“Well, sweetie, I love you more than chocolate, and you know how I love chocolate.”
“But, Sarah, I love you more than Google.”
Realizing I couldn’t follow that up, I gave her a quick kiss, turned off the light and ran downstairs to gloat.
My friend, the Bishop, has lunch with me every single Thursday. He calls our lunches Therapy Thursdays. At first I thought it was funny, but now I’m starting to realize just how true it is. We go. We eat. He points out my shitty behavior. It’s fun. FOR HIM!
It’s always been just the two of us, however, yesterday he invited our friend Maddie along. I suspect he was slightly nervous and/or embarrassed to being alone with me after I informed the Internet that he saw the contents of my naughty drawer.
I expected a bit of awkward behavior from him, he is after all very bishop-like, but I was completely mistaken. After ordering our food and sitting down at the table he presented me with a gift:
He is obviously absolved of all bedroom peeking sins.