Sarah Bellum's Tales of Wit and Charm

I think I might be an emotional loner. I like people well enough and I enjoy spending time with my friends, but I have the hardest time letting new people in. This does not bode well for any new relationships.

When someone tries to get close to me I’m extra abrasive, overly critical and sarcastic. There’s only so far pretty hair can get you in a relationship.

I wouldn’t date me.

I wouldn’t encourage my male friends or brothers to date anyone remotely like me.

So what makes me think I will find someone who WANTS to date me?

Heavy stuff for a Tuesday morning, I know. If you want some lighter reading go read my guest post for Libby Logic.

A few weeks ago I wrote about how much I missed my Magic Date Ball, and because I have the best readers in the world this magically showed up in the mail today:

I immediately tested the ball out with a dating question. The answer was a very exciting, and a very glittery “Absolutely!” You’re going to have to figure out the question on your own though. I can’t be expected to do all the work around here.

Plus it’s embarrassing as hell.

And sweaty.

I just gave it away didn’t I?

Thanks again Jogurl. You’re the best!

My little apartment has a balcony that I rarely use. I don’t grill food or own patio furniture. The area sits empty except for a stray dog bone and a formerly empty cheap, plastic planter. I grew weeds in the planter all by myself. I’m basically a gardener at this point.

I was on the phone with a friend when I saw the weeds and in my excitement said, “I grew my own weed.” My friend was silent for a moment and then asked, “I didn’t know you smoked weed, and aren’t you worried about getting arrested?”

The gardening excitement faded as I realized the misunderstanding. I quickly corrected the mistake and assured her that I don’t smoke weed and that my incredibly skilled green thumb was not going to be carted off to jail. Thank god, because I think she was about to ask if she could have custody of my shoes while I served time.

The mix-up was extra comical to me because my mom once requested that I buy her pot for Christmas. She meant a kitchen pot, but having your Mormon mother ask you for pot is one of those memories I’ll always cherish.

Mom, if you’re reading, this weed’s for you:

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is all about my inability to figure out dating equations. You guys, math is HARD! I’m suddenly wishing I’d paid a little more attention in College Algebra. You can download the PDF here.

I leave for BlogHer one month from today. I wasn’t stressed out until I wrote out my ‘to do’ list:

1) Lose ten pounds so no one has to see pictures of my ham arms all over the Internet and wonder why there weren’t Mormon funeral potatoes served with the ham.

2) Find someone to design a new blog header and business cards. This stresses me out beyond belief. Design work makes my brains explode, which would NOT make a cute design. Only zombie lovers like that shit.

3) Magically fix my dog’s rotten ass so I can find someone that will agree to watch her while I’m gone. No one will volunteer to keep a dog that can melt skin with her farts.

4) Figure out what clothing to pack. I don’t understand why pants are required in public. It would be a lot easier if I could wear my pajamas the entire weekend. Seriously, BlogHer planners, wouldn’t a giant girly sleepover party be more fun?

I’m only allowing myself to worry about four things. The rest will fall into place. And if it doesn’t? Well too bad. I’ve got school and work to stress about.

Here’s what I’ve done with my list so far:

1) Jillian Michaels is working my ass every single day but so far the only thing lost is my will to live.

2) I found someone who will design something I love, but she’ll also get it done quickly. Yay for Alma Loveland’s design work! Use her. Worship her. Do not send her chocolate. That you can send straight to my mouth. OK, so I think we figured out why I’m not losing weight.

3) I’ve only made Daisy’s ass worse by switching her food. If you live in the greater Salt Lake area and you smell something disgusting that is not the lake. That is Daisy. Sorry.

4) I had planned on wearing jeans and tee shirts the entire time, but I was lucky enough to find a clothing saint. Heather from Fawn Boutique has agreed to come pick through my closet and find just the right outfits to take. What she doesn’t know is all she’ll find is black shirts and jeans. I can’t wait to see what surprises she has in store. (Heather if you’re reading this please bring magic. You’re going to need it.)

Two out of four isn’t bad. I’m halfway through my list, people! I totally deserve a drink.

I adore my dog, but her high pitched barking drives me stark raving mad. I do whatever it takes to avoid that bark. She knows this and usually gets whatever she needs by piercing my eardrums until I do what she wants.

I’m a damn human robot. I hate it, but I hate the bark more.

She has a new treat stick that she rolls around the house like a kibble vending machine until it’s empty. Then she runs around my apartment barking until I refill the thing.

The first time is sorta cute, but after three days of this routine I’m ready to take my bloody eardrums back to work for some peace and quiet.