Okay. I’m pretty embarrassed to share this piece of information with you… because it’s going to ‘out’ basically every guy I’ve ever been attracted to.

So, sometime during my mid-twenties, like already married and everything, I was talking to a best friend of mine about past dating life, celebrity crushes and that sort of girl gab… And I told her that I have a really, really specific type that I like physically…


REENACTMENT TIME. Two friends having a shallow conversation over a tray of chicken nuggets.

Me: So, every single celebrity and guy I’ve been attracted to has the same face. The Same. Exact. Face.

Her: Haha. Okay, like what?

Me: Brown eyes. Most importantly.

Her: Most importantly?

Me: As big as humanly possible. Freakishly big brown puppy dog eyes.

Her: Is that it? They all have big, brown eyes?

Me: Well… And I like brunettes.

Her: Sure. A natural with the brown eyes. Short hair or long?

Me: You know that sixties hair where it’s like swooped over but still with decent side-burns?

Her: Ooh yeah.

Me: I like cheekbones. Like when their cheeks ball up when they smile.

Her: Oh yeah, that’s cute.

Me: Just a lot of face. An overwhelming amount of face. Like the chunkier the dude the better.

Her: Uh…

Me: And like, I know I should probably be trying to breed out my big nose, but I love long noses. A real man’s nose.

Her: You… you know you just perfectly described… feature by feature… Woody from Toy Story, right?

Me: …

Her: …





No, this is not a joke. And no, this is not an exaggeration either. I have no idea why I didn’t put it together sooner. Honest to goodness, not lying or making this up… three of my past love interests have even told me DIRECTLY that other people say they look like Woody (my husband included).

And okay, this best friend I was talking to reassured me that every girl had “A Face”. And she showed me hers. Hers was normal. Hers was like a Ben Affleck looking face. MINE IS A CARTOON TOY OKAY? HOW IS THAT A NORMAL HUMAN EXPERIENCE?

And like the creepiest part of it… is that I have always loved Woody. A little too much. Like once I got a Woody doll as a Christmas present and I actually cried over it. I do not know why I’m so attached to him as a character. I think maybe… loyalty? He’s super loyal throughout the series? (I’ve heard #4 is questionable here. I haven’t seen it yet) But, Toy Story One came out when I was five… which is a pretty impressionable age, right?


Another theory here. It’s not actually Woody. It’s Daniel. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence that I was actively and purposefully seeking Dan’s exact face. Not to mention really specific personality traits that my husband has perfectly. It’s… very odd. I don’t know that I believe in soul mates, but it honestly almost feels like I remembered what Daniel looked like and I was trying to find him.

Either that or I’m really hot for Toy Story. Whatever.

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.


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.


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.


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.


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 Blew My Crush Away… With Snot


Once upon a time I liked this guy. And really the core reason for the infatuation was that he was just so GOSH DARN FUNNY. He wasn’t even attractive necessarily, but he was to me! Every time I was with him I just basked in the audience of our own private comedy club. I mean he had my heart from the first time he got me cackling like a witch.

So I was NOT about to miss an opportunity to see him. Even if I had the most horrendous death-bed virus. I popped Dayquil like a meth addict because NOTHING WILL KEEP ME FROM THIS MAN’S JOKES.

“What? No! I hardly even feel sick. I look fine. Let’s go!”

I meet up with him. Doing everything in my will power to keep from serenading him with “Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel”. And you know what? It was a great time! Everything went off as smooth as could be…

And then we said goodbye.

Uhhhhh… Why do I even tell you these horribly awkward things?

We say goodbye and he drops the granddaddy of all jokes. It’s like every punchline had led up to THIS punchline. It caught me completely off guard and I didn’t even have time to attempt a pretty giggle (which I never ever do anyways). I snort. I forget to open my mouth and the laugh comes OUT MY NOSE. And that’s not the only thing that came out my nose.


I don’t know how you can tell certain shapes by feel only… but I could tell that I had actually just formed a bubble of snot. It didn’t even pop right away. It was brought to life right there on my nostril and was just going to kick it for a while. And I have a big nose, so you know it was not the average snot bubble.

HORRIFIED I pinch it off with my fingers. He sort of reared back in confusion and then kept on talking. I’m like… Did he even see that? Maybe he didn’t even see that… How could he not have seen it? It was right in front of his face!

But here’s the new predicament: I now have a handful of green snot that I had just collected off my face. Okay, I’m not about to wipe it anywhere. That would confirm what he may or may not have seen. So I stick my wet hand into the pocket of my jacket on the sly. I’m figuring I can get to a bathroom just as soon as this guy leaves.

I cleared my throat a couple of times just so he KNEW I was sick and that I don’t produce a Nickelodeon amount of snot every single time.


My answer came as to whether or not he had seen it, when he EXTENDED HIS HAND TO SHAKE MINE GOODBYE.

Things didn’t work out with that guy.



If that wasn’t embarrassing enough for you, you can watch me retch on camera trying to eat baby food! My best friend has a YouTube channel and I often guest star. If you like a lot of my mommy posts and baby stuff, then you will love this channel because she has tons of pregnancy and mom vlogs. You should check it out!