Hi. My name is Ami, and I'm addicted. Addicted to lip balm. Carmex to be exact. But Chap Stick will do in a pinch.
Living in Texas humidity for the first 22 years of my life, there wasn't a need for lip balm, unless I had a cold requiring me to take every breath through my mouth. I moved to Colorado after I finished college, and that is when I began to spiral down the long, dark tunnel of lip balm addiction. Colorado air is so dry that it sucked every ounce of moisture from my body, beginning with my lips. Within 24 hours of living in Colorado, I realized that I could not live without applying a greasy tube of relief to my lips at least every hour. On the hour. Seriously, I bought one of those Chap Stick key holder dealies so that my Chap Stick could always be found.
Fast forward ten years, and I'm still addicted, even though I've returned to the land of humidity. I have cut myself back to maybe three applications per day, but I still have one tube in the car, one in the bathroom, one in my nightstand drawer, one in my purse, one in the diaper bag, three in the kitchen junk drawer, and one upstairs in the boys' bathroom. Truly. I never wonder where or when I can get my next fix. What's even worse is that Garrett asks for "chack stick" every time he sees me applying it.
But I haven't been ready to admit that I have a problem until today.
Today, I saw an article on Yahoo about a website for those afflicted with this addiction. (Now, here's a warning about this website: it's often sarcastic and contains some foul language. But if you need to see for yourself, here is the link for Lip Balm Anonymous.) Did you know such a site existed?
LBA makes me think that I really need to join a twelve-step program and cut lip balm out of my life. Are you addicted? The first step is to admit it!
Who Knew?
Me
There's this meme floating around Bloggityville lately that I just can't continue to pass up any longer. This meme consists of seven things about me. Here goes....
1. I nearly drowned as a five year-old. I got into water too deep over my head, and I remember the horribly helpless feeling of bobbing up and down and trying with every ounce of my body to scream for help. When my parents discovered me, my lips were turning blue. I made it, obviously, but I still have a fear of the water to this day. I do not want water in my face at any time, including the shower. But I do mange to wash my face regularly, thankyouverymuch.
2. I abhor june bugs! They are the most disgusting insects on the face of this earth. This phobia also dates back to my early childhood when one got tangled in my long hair. Those nasty things tend to gravitate towards my hair every summer.
3. I have a tattoo. I'm too lazy to get the camera to take a picture of it right now. It's a black icthus (the Christian fish) on my left ankle. My mother hates it. I like it. I want another one. (Hi, Mom.)
4. I secretly want six kids. (Hi, Rick.)
5. I graduated from college with three credit hours shy of a double major. Yes, that's right, only three hours short of it. I could not force myself to stick around one more semester for the one required course that I needed. I don't know if my parents know that fact. (Hi, Mom.)
6. I used my degree to teach math and science for five years before becoming a mommy. I miss the actual teaching part, but I haven't missed the parents for one day. Parents, be nice to your kids' teachers!
7. I want to skydive!
That was fun. Hope you enjoyed it. If you want to join in on your own blog, consider yourself tagged and leave me a comment so that I can check yours out.
For the Love of Baskets...Revisited
Rick was out of town last week, and when he's out of town, I usually "treat" myself to a little something. Being that I'm a stay-at-home mom by choice, I normally try to spend very little money on myself, in order to continue my "retirement" from the "real" working world. But when Rick is on business trips, I tend to cut myself some slack and buy a little something for me.
Isn't it cute?! And, as I've told you before, every basket in my house has a function. Here is what this cutie holds for me:
It is the perfect size for a box of kleenex (For it is sneezing season in Texas.), a bottle of lotion (I keep lotion close at hand in an effort to keep my hands from aging beyond the rest of me.), a timer (I am the queen of timers!), and our paddle (Yes, we spank these angels from time to time.). My camera also fits into this handy-dandy basket, but I can't figure out how to take a picture of my camera, silly me. All of these items used to sit on the counter, and it drove me insane to see them pile up in plain sight. Now, they pile up in this basket that sits on the counter between the kitchen and living area.
Do you know what's even better about this practical purchase? It cost $4.99! If you have such a basket fetish, run out to Garden Ridge. (No, this is not a sponsored post, but boy should it be!)
Another Contest
I never win anything, but just in case my luck turns around, I'm signing up for a jewelry contest over at 5 Minutes for Mom. Go here to join me.
It's All Fun Until Blogger Decides to Pull a Fast One
I'm so mad! I was proofreading a long entry here on Blogger, until BOOM, it's vanished! I have no idea what I did or did not do to make it disappear.
Well, I don't have time to reinvent that entry, so I'll just say this:
- I am happy to report that I did not hear any baskets calling my name during the night. But I have thought about them many times today, so I think I have a fetish instead of an addiction. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, please see yesterday's post.)
- Murphy's Law continues. Rick left town today, and my back has decided to act up on me. So, I need to leave the computer and go rest.
Talk at ya' tomorrow!
For the Love of Baskets
I admit it. I have a fetish. Or maybe it's an addiction. I should attend BCA. That is Basket Collectors Anonymous.
I love baskets. Any shape, size or color will do. When I stand in the middle of my living room floor, I can spot 6 baskets within plain sight. And that does not count walking into bedrooms or closets. Although I will not bore you by naming each basket's specific use, I could. No basket goes unused around here.
So, if each basket has a specific use, is it really an addiction? Or could it simply be a fetish when I walked through Garden Ridge today and I spotted another 6 baskets that I would really like to have? And truly, hubby, I can think of a use for each one! And they were all on SALE! Gasp! But I did not buy any. I repeat, I did not buy one. Because I did not think that I could face my husband tonight and tell him that I bought just one more basket.
But I cannot get my mind off of them. They are calling my name. What if I can't sleep tonight?! Okay, if I lose sleep over them, then I'll know it's an addiction, and I truly do need to find my local chapter of BCA. Anyone care to join me?
