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So I have all these crazy stories of things happening to me and I decided to make a mini-book. I needed more pages, but decided to only go with these stories. Maybe I'll add more pages later. Supplies: Rusty Pickle Chocolate Kisses papers, Rusty Pickle flower chipboard album, Rusty Pickle & misc. buttons, Rusty Pickle & Offray Ribbons, Bazzill Wings, HS Bling, Prima FlowersJournaling: Picture 2: I have all these stupid stories of things that have happened to me over the years, so I thought I would make a scrapbook to document my ‘blonde’ moments. One of these days, I am convinced that stupid stuff will stop happening to me, but I'm not holding my breath for it! So please, enjoy my ‘one time’ stories and have a good belly laugh at my expense! As you read, please keep in mind that the older I get, the less blonde my hair is! Picture 3: One time when I was a newlywed, I had to go to the bathroom. I was drying my hands afterwards when my wedding band flew off, bounced off the toilet seat and plunked straight down in the toilet. My first reaction was to laugh, this could only happen to me, right?! But then, before my eyes, I see the spinning water suck my band down into the depths of hell. OMG! What was I to do?! I was mortified, there was no way I could tell my husband of one week that I just flushed the ring he so lovingly placed on my finger during our ceremony. So I get a coat hanger and try to fish the sucker out - but apparently our plumbing was much better than I expected because it was gone forever! Finally, after an hour of sobbing hysterically and calling everyone I know for ideas on how to get it out, I phoned my dear and loving husband. He stopped and picked up a new band for me on the way home from work that day!Picture 4: One time when I was younger, my mother told me to clean my room. Now, my version of cleaning is pull everything out and place it on the bed in a HUGE pile and go through it one piece at a time and sleep on the floor until the bed is clear again. So here I was, chunking the things I no longer wanted into a big black trash bag. But wait, my bag is full… so I have the brilliant idea to put my foot in it and smoosh the trash, making more room. Well, I get the ever more brilliant idea to put both feet in and smoosh the trash. This double foot whammy lasts for a total of probably three seconds before I lose my balance and smack my head into the bedroom wall, leaving a gaping hole! So when I come to, I come crawling out of my room on my knees, hands behind my head, crying hysterically - looking like I just came out of a concentration camp. Picture 5: One time when I started taking clomid, I had this lovely idea to make smores. Of course, I had to do it indoors for some unknown reason, so I gather up the ingredients and a lighter to roast the marshmallows and head to the couch. I sit down and Jeff asks what I am doing. Of course, I proudly announce that I am going to make smores. Jeff takes the chocolate and says “NO” in his ever so loving smartass tone. So what did I do?! I just started uncontrollably bawling, for no reason other than the fact he said no and I apparently really wanted some smores. I cried so hard that I couldn't breathe, but then I started laughing hysterically because I knew I was being stupid. I think it took about 20 minutes before I could calmly have a discussion. To this day, Jeff asks me if I want some smores when I start acting emotional!


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