The Time I Explained the Facts of Life to a Grown Woman

Alright, so if you didn’t already know I served an LDS mission in Peru for eighteen months. That’s where this *delightful* story takes place.

This one day the girl I lived with and I started talking about our future babies… as one does when you’re single and not at all in a position to have any. We were just kind of talking about our predictions and everything and what we thought pregnancy would be like (which, oh HELLO. Writing this at 34 weeks. Pregnancy is only the craziest thing I could never imagine)

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Anyways, we were talking about all that when this girl says, “I wonder how you get pregnant”.
Yo.

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Pffftlol. Whaaaaat? I was like, “Oh uh… do you really not know how people get pregnant?”
“No.”

Mind was blown out my butt. How could this grown twenty-something woman not know this? Like how could she have been so failed by the school system, her parents AND every single form of mainstream media ever?

So in my mind, I was like alright look. I obviously have no problem talking about this kind of thing. And she straight up asked me. And wouldn’t it be better for me to give her a solid educational response rather than hearing some raunchy joke and being really confused as a freaking ADULT?

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So in my crappy half Spanish… I explained the birds and the bees to her. Literally. I used “the birds” and “the bees”. Because I couldn’t really think of a better way to go about it? Like IDK folks, birds have eggs and bees pollinate, okay!

It was honestly probably a ten-minute spiel. Eight at best. And then after all that, she just gives me the blankest look and says, “No. I meant like I wonder how you time things so you get pregnant. Like how do you track when you’re ready to ovulate and everything?”

Ohhhhhhhhh kay.

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I don’t know why TF she let me just teach her grown a$$ about sex for ten minutes. Like I WENT THROUGH THE ENTIRE THING. I explained it ALL. She told me that once I started she didn’t stop me because she was curious about how I was going to explain it.

Face. Palm.

Knowing her, she probably didn’t stop me because she thought it was freaking funny to watch me embarrass myself thinking I was doing some self-decided good deed.

I should’ve just said, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Welcome To My Home… I Guess?

Is it cheating if I was a major player in the embarrassing story, but not the embarrassee? Because this hilarious thing happened to me a couple of days ago and I thought it was worth sharing…

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So, let me set the scene for you. It’s a random morning. Toys are littered all across the carpet. Sesame Street is on full blast. Jack is in his high chair eating a waffle and I’m doing the dishes. Pretty standard.

Suddenly, I hear a key unlock the front door. I’m like… Dan has JUST left to work. He must have forgotten something or maybe he has the day off (like in my wildest dreams).

The door wooshes open. Immediately followed by this unsure pause. At this point, I think Dan’s being funny or something. Maybe he’s trying to prank me. I poke my head around the corner to see…

Not Dan. Not anyone I’ve ever met before. There was this total stranger. A girl about my age staring at me in COMPLETE BEWILDERMENT.

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Me: Okay, uh… Hello?

Her: … I think the leasing office gave me the wrong key.

So apparently, she was going to check on a “vacant” apartment to give a tour later that day, but instead checked in on mine. I can only imagine what she must have thought when she opened the door. “SQUATTERS! With Sesame Street … and family pictures hanging on the wall… ummm…”

I’m just glad that I was actually wearing pants that morning.

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Being Too Dumb to Function in Arizona

K I wasn’t going to tell this story, because the wound is still fresh. But, asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj* FINE! I’ll make a post about this stupid, stupid mistake I made.

*asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj – (pronounced like slamming keys) exclamation, Keyboard Pound for I did not want to do the thing, but frustratingly so, I will do the thing. Ex. “I wasn’t going to comment on your outlandish political statement on Facebook, but asdlfksldghvlksrjgaslkdfj.”

Well, first off, pregnancy brain is strong with this one, okay. AND I WANT YOU TO KEEP THAT IN MIND… because I have no problem throwing my children under the bus in order to save face. No, listen, that’s not it. But if that’s not it, then it must be something because I feel like what I did could have been the punch line of a dumb-blonde joke.

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Obviously, Arizona is a third degree blister of burning heat. Like really. It reaches temperatures that are actual settings on ovens. So for the sake of our baby boys in the back seat we decided to have our Honda Civic windows tinted so that they, you know, could actually sit there.

It’s always a pain to get your cars worked on because you have to do the awkward second-car-shuffle. So my husband was driving Jack in the Honda and I took the Nissan. Ummmm K. I really hardly ever drive that car. It’s my husband’s commuter car and we always take the Honda for outings because it fits our car seat better. This might just be totally my anxiety but I feel like, driving a car you are not familiar with is trying to navigate a Chinese shuttle to the moon.

Well, whatever. So as I’m driving I immediately notice that something is wrong. The AC  is blowing hot air…

If you haven’t already read about our bad-luck-move-from-hell… this exact thing had happened to our other car on the way down. PLUS all the other mechanical issues we had already been through, not including trying to get tint on the windows.

And we’re driving to the whole other side of town. Well, maybe that SEEMS like not very far, but Mesa might as well be an effing East Coast state it’s so huge. It has 17 freeway exits alone. So here is the worst half an hour of my LIFE, sweat dripping into my eyes, cursing for … just being a human with functioning nerve endings. I’m five months pregnant, it’s over 110 degrees OUTSIDE of the car, okay. I’m rolling down the windows and sticking my head out like a Labrador.

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We get to the place and I immediately tell Dan, “THE AC IN THIS CAR WENT OUT TOO. ARIZONA HATES US.”

He leans in and points out that I had… in fact… never actually turned the air conditioning on.

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Making a Fool of Myself at Barnes and Noble

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Anyone who knows my husband and I, knows that we love to prank each other. One time, Dan put cottage cheese in my deodorant, changed my birthday and Facebook and announced that I was engaged to a mutual friend all on the SAME April Fool’s Day.

So, naturally, I am always trying to get back at him in any little way I can think of.

One time we were hanging out at Barnes and Noble, because if you didn’t know, that’s how non-nerds spend their time. OBVIOUSLY.

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I was browsing around the aisles while Dan trailed behind me. It came to me that this was a perfectly perfect time to be a really annoying wife. I could tell that he was trying to get around me, so I spread my arms out to the side and did a weird zig-zaggy walk. Basically MAXIMIZING every inch of space so that it was impossible to pass by.

I kicked my knees up with each step. Exaggerating every single movement, because I’m a comedic genius honestly. Anyways, basically, I looked like a marionette being controlled by a preschooler.

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That’s when the Barnes and Noble employee was like, “Um… Excuse me…”

Dan had stopped one aisle over. Letting me do this STUPID dancing block-aid. For like honestly a full minute.

Dummy. Even when I try to get him back he finds a way to turn the tables on me.

The Time I Tried to Teach Myself How to Yodel

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I can’t get enough of the video of the yodeling Walmart kid. Buuuut at the same time, it’s been kind of bringing up a lot of repressed memories…

Mostly this one.

I just randomly ‘get into things’. Like when I tried to memorize Hamlet. Or when I tried to teach myself how to dance to house music. Or when I spent like two months watching Cleopatra documentaries every day. I just get really excited about niche stuff.

So one day I was like, yo, I’m going to learn how to yodel.

I hadn’t really imagined the Hank Williams covers at Walmart. Mostly, I wanted to do like an Appalachia mountain kinda thing that I could use to call my kids to dinner with.

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Anyways, so in case you didn’t know… yodeling is switching back and forth in between your lower register and falsetto voice. Your voice makes a “break” and that’s where the yodeling sound comes from.

So basically, the way to practice yodeling is to do these weird freaking scales and strain your voice like Scooby Doo after he’s had some bad Taco Bell.

eeeeh EEEH! eeeh EEEH! eeeh EEEH! And you can’t do it quietly either or your voice won’t break as well. Okay… yeah…

Well, around this time I was asked to help clean my local church building. It was like eight in the morning on a Saturday and the other people they asked were young single adults with lives. So obviously, it was just me that showed up.

Just kidding. It was me and the guy who asked me.

So I got to work cleaning my half of the church building. The classrooms. All by myself. But hey! That wasn’t such bad news. I mean, golly gee, what a PERFECT time to practice my yodeling scales.

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I straight up practiced yodeling for an hour. THAT – IS – NOT – A – JOKE. I started to lose my voice before I finally finished up.

I wound the cord up around the vacuum and hauled it out into the hall… when I saw this other GUY. This effing latecomer that had UNBEKNOWNST TO ME been helping me clean my side of the church building. The whole time. The. Whole. Hour.

Oh my gosh, can you imagine this poor dude waking up early to clean a church and having to listen to this girl go “Eeeeeeeeeeuugughghh! Eeeeeeeeeuuughghghg!” for an entire hour. OH MY GOSHHHHHHH.

I think I honestly could have just buried down into the ground like a mole. I DIED.

Stopped yodeling after that traumatic experience I assure you.

Accidentally Feeling Up a Football Player

Hi, welcome to last week’s blog this week. Does anyone even notice stuff like that? Oh well, here’s your embarrassing story…

I never really had crushes on jocks growing up. I think probably because they weren’t geeky enough for my taste. But I guess that’s some typical girl thing? I mean I only see it in EVERY SINGLE TEEN ROMCOM EVER.

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Well anyways I guess after seeing the personality-less jock trope for the 500th time, it got me really thinking… Like, have I ever had that kind of crush though? I had to push through a lot of band geek / theater boy memories but then I REMEMBERED THIS THING THAT HAPPENED.

I can safely say that no, I’ve never really been that interested in a sportsy guy. But there was this one football player that I recognized to be quite a pretty man.

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For the sake of this story we’ll call him… ‘Stallion’ haha. (I never had enough of a crush on him to make up a proper codename at the time.)

So Stallion and I always had the same gym class. It was weird. Like no matter what grade, semester, A day B day, we always got put into the same gym class… maybe the school had to make up for my lack of physical skill by putting in an athlete like iono.

Anyways, we’re playing flag football. Woo hoo *sarcasm*. As soon as I left my high school theater room I was pretty much out of my elemenet for any other skill/interest. So just like any other boring gym day I casually stayed the furthest away from the game, while still trying to look like I was actually doing something.

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I was having a great time daydreaming UNTIL Stallion intercepts the ball and starts running in my direction for a touchdown. He had red tags and I had yellow tags. Which meant that NOW instead of avoiding the game it was my responsibility to pull the flag off this guy that played for the school team.

I made the most half butt attempt to stop him. I reached out and ran like four steps. See, coach? Go sports! Don’t fail me okay? He made the touchdown. (Big shockeroo there)

He walks towards me and he says something like, “Hey you almost got me.” Yeaaaah *shifty eyes*. But this is like the first time I’ve ever even heard Stallion’s VOICE so I’m intrigued enough to engage in this conversation.

As I took a step towards him, I stepped into a freaking hole. My toe caught the side and my knees just buckled from under me.

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Honestly, if I had just fallen on my face that would’ve been okay. I would have gladly taken that over what happened instead. Instead, Stallion reached out and tried to stop me from falling.

It wasn’t a good catch at all. He just kinda limply held me in his arms as my knees continued to buckle. AND the thing is that when you feel yourself fall you put your arms out in front of you right? Yeah. So I put my arms out in front of me as he stepped forward and ‘caught’ me.

My palms slid all the way down his freaking torso. Slowly too. Creepily slowly as I fell. Like if I had been in a cartoon it would have made a very loud squeegee sound.

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The game is just halted as everyone watches me seductively slide down this poor boy.

My friends even asked later if I had tripped on purpose to be able to feel down his rippling abs. It was all horrible. I spent the rest of the semester pretending to forget my gym shoes and hiding in the supply closet.

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The Cat in the Window Well

K. This isn’t even a funny story. It’s just really stupid.

When I was a kid we lived in this Ivory Home development and we had some cuh-razy neighbors. I don’t remember everything that they did, but I do remember that before they got busted for dealing drugs, they adopted a tiny kitten. I really mean tiny. So tiny that it could fit through a single hole in the chain link fence. I know, because that’s what it did every day.

This kitten was cute but also kind of dumb. And I’m only saying that because it would fall into our window well pretty much biweekly. Once it was stuck there, it would scratch on the window and meow until we did something about it.

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Now the thing was at our house we were not permitted to go into any of the window wells since it was a Black Widow Metropolis. So we would have to get either Mom or Dad to climb in there and rescue it.  Sometimes the same second that we would dump it on the other side of the fence it would jump back through to our side. Maybe it was trying to make a better home for itself. I don’t know.

ANYWAYS. So one summer night, lil’ ol’ high school me was asleep in my bed, when suddenly I heard some distinct scratching from the outside of my window.

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Most people would think that it was a tree branch or something. On a good day, I would assume it’s the girl from The Ring. Whatever. But you know when you’re half awake and your dream brain kicks in with it’s thread-bare logic?

I sat up out of bed with a thought that I hadn’t had since I was nine… A cat fell in my window well. 

Now, at this point I could A) Open the blinds and see what is making the sound. B) Why the eff would a cat be in there? Just go back to sleep and forget about it. But no. I opted for C) wake up my mom to save the cat. For I cannot, for I am but a child.

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My poor mother gets out of bed, shuffles down into the basement and opens up my blinds (something that a sixteen-year-old should be capable of). Nothing is there. I point out the motion sensor light like a true Sherlock though. The cat MUST HAVE jumped back out. See sensor light? See logic and reason? See me so smart? Mom’s like whatevs and goes back to bed.

THE NEXT MORNING I’m carpooling to work with my best friend Greg and WHAM. It all comes back to me. And if you couldn’t tell from my needlessly long blog posts, I love a weird story. So I immediately tell him all about it. This cat fell into my window well last night and by the time my mom and I checked it out… it jumped back out. OoooOOoooooh.

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I tell freaking EVERYONE about this, okay. All my coworkers, my boss, random people I hardly knew. I even told the big HS crush, because of course I did. A cat scratching at my window, wow, wasn’t he impressed. And quite frankly my desperation with him alone has generated six or seven other embarrassing stories. (Gosh, at least.) But that’s another Thursday.

So anyway, a whole work day has gone by of me blabbering on about this. Greg and I are outside painting. For some reason, I’m still on it, like woah dat cat tho. Can you even believe a cat fell in my window well?

He replies with, “Yeah and that cat’s name is Greg and Kayla.”

Yep. So my two besties were scratching at my window and gave up when I refused to open the blinds … AND he let me tell everyone that it was a stupid cat. All day. In great detail.

I threw my paint at him. All the paint.

The Time I Took An Awkward Selfie

I was in the Arts Building at the University of Utah. I had just come out of a meeting with my supervisor and decided to hit the restroom before class… when I decided to do something very stupid. Typical, typical Val.

There are two types of people in this world: people who play on their Smart Phones while doing their biz on the can and LIARS.

So I’m on the toilet, probably taking a quiz to find out which salad best suits my astrological needs. My best friend Kayla sends me a Snap Chat asking me what I was up to.

Oh ho ho.

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In case you haven’t read about it already, I am essentially a 10 year old. My sense of humor is SO stupid that the trailer of my life would probably have multiple fart sounds and record scratches.

So I’m all, “Guess I gotta show her what I’m up to then”. And I take a picture of myself sitting on the toilet.

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Wow. Jeez. Val. Yuck. Yeah. That’s pretty embarrassing. NO! THAT’S NOT EVEN THE EMBARRASSING PART.

The embarrassing part was that I forgot that my phone was set to atomic blast sound level. The fake shutter click just like BOOMED out through the public restroom. There were at least two other girls in there who now knew that I was in there… taking pictures of … whatever.

I literally had to sit on the toilet for another fifteen minutes, just to wait for them to leave so I didn’t have to look them in the eye.

You think that would deter me from toilet selfies, but not at all.

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Here’s one from when I had actually put make up on that day, but never got a chance to leave the house. You wanna judge me, that’s cool, but make-up is expensive! Couldn’t let it go to waste.

… Get it? Couldn’t let it go to waste. *fart sound* *record scratches* *canned laughter*

 

 

The Time I Threw Up On The First Day of School… As An Adult

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Before anyone knew I was pregnant with Jack they assumed I had a horrible disease because I WAS SICK ALL OF THE TIME. Most people throw up when they have food poisoning, everyday of my first trimester was food poisoning for me. I would throw up at the stupidest things, like brushing my teeth or watching my husband scramble eggs. I went from cute little pink pill to HOLY-CRAP-WE-HAVE-TO-SEDATE-YOUR-DIGESTIVE-SYSTEM. And even then, car rides were still rough. I’d have to stick my head out the window like a dog to keep it down.

The first day of my second trimester was coincidentally the first day of the college semester. And I guess that I just magically assumed that I didn’t need medication since I was technically second-trimester-free.

Ha.

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It’s my very first class, the professor is going through the syllabus and someone behind me is eating straight dog food for breakfast. Honestly, I don’t know what they brought to class, but it smelled like a swamp rat. So like you know when you haven’t turned on your garbage disposal in a while? That was the smell that this person was eating for breakfast.

It kind of still makes me nauseous remembering it TBH

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So I’m dripping sweat, trying so hard not to puke. Finally, I can’t take it and I excuse myself from the room, go to the bathroom… it’s gone. The urge to barf is gone because I have removed myself from the cause of the problem. I step back into class… into the breakfast burrito poo cloud. And dude, it is immediate how fast I go back to square one.

The professor is at the end of the syllabus so I’m thinking she’s going to let us out early and then I can RUN FAR FAR AWAY! Someone raises their hand and has a question, like seriously dude?? It’s literally printed out in like eight stapled sheets in front of you.

I had sat WAY TOO FAR from the door, I was at least 50 people away from an exit point.
I’m not going to make it.

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Actual picture of me trying to wait out the lecture

The professor: Alright, well if there are no more questions I’ll see you on Wednesday.
Me: BLUUUUUUURRRP

Okay, so I didn’t actually throw up. Instead I made the LOUDEST AND GROSSEST SOUNDING BURP YOU’VE EVER HEARD. It was like Bruce Bogtrotter after he finishes the chocolate cake expect even wetter. The professor actually gave me the most horrified look, like the way her eyes snapped open is burned into my memory forever.

Oh man, and it was so early on in my pregnancy that I didn’t look pregnant at all. I’m sure I seriously shocked everyone. And it was the freaking first day of class so everyone probably called me barf-girl in their heads the rest of the semester.

Anyways. If you’re going to have sewage draining for breakfast can you like eat it before you come to class? Please.

 

 

The thing that happened on my wedding day…

I was honestly NEVER going to tell anyone this story. Seriously. I’m blushing just thinking about typing this one. But it’s a pretty funny story and my husband said it was okay, so…

*cringing so hard*

Here it is…

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We had our ceremony in one city and then our open house reception in another. We planned for time to take pictures after the wedding and go right to the reception, but the shoot ended up being super quick! We had like an hour or so before the next set of pictures at the reception.

We had no clue what to do. Bum around town in our gown and tux? Go to the reception place and take a nap? Finally I was like, look… this is the most romantic day of our lives. And we have an hour to ourselves! We should do something totally spontaneous that we can say we did on our wedding day.

So we decided to drive up a random canyon to an overlook.

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This one.

It was a surprisingly crowded day at this overlook so we parked on a little spot of gravel on the other side of the lot. We took some pictures and talked about how cool it is being married now. It was so sweet and romantic… too romantic actually. We started making out.

At some point during the M.O.S. I completely moved over to Daniel’s seat… I was WAY into it. But c’mon! Wedding day! There was this really loud constant noise but I was a bride and in love and didn’t pay any attention to it. Finally after a good solid minute of this loud noise we stop kissing. “Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep” What is that?

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That’s when it occurred to me that I was SITTING ON THE HORN OF THE STEERING WHEEL.

oh my gosh.

And there were tons of people there too. IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. Beep! Don’t mind us. Just a bride and groom mauling each other over here.

Dan looked over at the other cars and calls out, “It’s okay. We’re married now.” And we peel out of there.

 

lol SO ANYWAYS. You can get that picture out of your head now by looking at this! These were our Halloween costumes this year: Can you guess who we were?

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KuzCOooooo

Darling llama hat made by Yarnageddon! SHOUT OUT: https://www.etsy.com/shop/Yarnmagedon?ref=l2-shopheader-name