DO-GOODERS



I’ll never change the world like Martin Luther King did, loveys. Not even close.

But in my own tiny ways, I still set out to do good. I’ll admit, I am an extremely lazy do-gooder though. Sure, I’ll write a check. I will donate to the Salvation Army kettle on my way out of the grocery store. I’ll even egg the shit out of my friend’s cheating ex’s house. Pretty much just your charitable basics.

So on this day that we celebrate Dr. King, I got to thinking about what I can do to really make an impact on this world.

*ponders*

WWAJD? (What would Angelina Jolie do?)

Immediately after this thought popped into my head, a tiny hand knocked at my door. And there stood my first answer.

*snaps fingers* That’s it!

That knock came from a Girl Scout. Aha! My chance to do good! (Suck it, Brangelina!) Did you know that about 70% of the money raised by those cookies goes to the girls, some of whom also break off a chunk of change to other charities, and even to our troops overseas?
(The other 30% goes to the bakers, duh. Those tree elves don’t just work for free!)
Aside from the obvious deliciousness, the impact of buying those cookies goes way further than just your hips, I swear.
Go. Find the nearest Girl Scout and buy a box of every flavor.

I should also point out that recent studies show that eating Girl Scout cookies instantly makes you happier.*



Party in my mouth!



*That study was conducted by the University of MyMouth.

I truly think the easiest act we can carry out as do-gooders is just practicing gratitude. For me, the right words can give me a legit mood boost. I’ve learned that little things can really brighten someone’s day. Smile at people. Offer a compliment:



See? A little flattery goes a long way.


And for crying out loud, let’s remember to thank people who truly are out here bettering society. Let’s examine some of our most heroic and badass do-gooders, shall we?

Teachers.



"Hola, maestra. Gracias por todo."



Not only do teachers have the thankless job of wrangling, coddling and intelligizing our children, but now they also have to know defensive tactics in order to protect our babies in class!? And all for just enough pay to barely scrape by without welfare, if they’re lucky. (FYI - That word I just made up will make it into Webster’s one day. "in-TELL-i-jy-zing"; verb, meaning: to instill intelligence in people who would otherwise be total dummies... And I’ll have a teacher to thank for that too.)



Firefighters.

Loveys, check out this pic from Guns N Hoses. These are an awesome series of events, held in various cities, to raise money for Backstoppers. Wow. Something like this really rocks my face off. Here are our women and men in red and blue, taking time out from saving our sorry asses to train and fight, in order to raise money for other women and men in red and blue who sacrificed everything, saving our sorry asses.

(Go ahead and read that back. I'll wait.) Seriously. Please thank them.





"Let's wrap this up. Gotta get back to saving sorry asses."

Nurses.

Nurses are incredible! I’ve long believed there is nothing these ladies and gents can’t do. I think they’re just born with stomachs of steel, so I actually tested that assumption one night. I once had a nurse who – in the span of 5 minutes – rubbed my back while I cried like a newborn, held back my hair so I could puke, and wipe my butt when I was physically unable.

And that wasn’t even at the hospital, you guys. No, I was just drunk in the bathroom of a nightclub. (Super-awkward way to meet someone, by the way.)

Police officers.

You guys know that I always joke about how hot and sexy men in general cops are. I mean, even the puny ones look all buff when they're rockin’ the Kevlar. And the gun and badge are all I really need to overlook the occasional ticket. I mean, they’re just so freaking beautiful in that uniform, and so brave and extra-gorgeous when they get all rescuey! Ooh, and you know I just love a man who takes charge, and…

Wait. What was I supposed to be writing about again?

*taps chin*

Where’s my train of thought? *looks around the room* It was just here a minute ago...

Oh, yes. Thanking Officer Friendly!

One bit of advice though. When you go to thank a police officer, just don’t get too overzealous. It’s kind of frowned upon. I don't know. Maybe they just have a hard time receiving stalking gratitude, but they get kinda pissed when you lay it on a little too thick. The details are fuzzy, but it's something about crossing over from grateful to “creepy.”

 



My stalking conviction will eventually be expunged, but you, sir,
will still be dead inside! (Sidebar: I think I just wrote Taylor Swift's
next heartbreak single there.)



And there you have it, lovebugs. My super-easy plan to change the immediate vicinity world. One small gesture at a time.

THE STRUGGLE

I'd never make it in Hollywood.

For one thing, I don't have any of the cool vices required. I never smoke cigarettes or do drugs. I don't even drink alcohol more than a few times a year. (Lame, I know.)

What I do struggle with, though, is sugar. It's not as sweet as it sounds, besties.

*solemn head shake*

I swear it's an actual addiction. You wouldn't know it though, by the shamefully low number of sugar-busting rehab facilities or outreach programs for gluttons like me. Where's my help? Psh! More tax dollars at waste.

Anyhoo, since there is no Lick-erette patch to ease my cravings or any insurance coverage for my withdrawals, I am forced to kick my habit on my own. Cold turkey.

But if you think my journey is any easier than Lohan's, think again.

It happens, as so many addictions do, with temptation...wanting to belong, or be comforted, or some other excuse I come up with.

Love at 1st bite?

And sometimes it's not even my fault at all. Like when you're driving somewhere, then mentally drift off - just for a sec - then arrive at your destination not really remembering the drive. It happens to all of us. I can't really be faulted here. And more times than not, it's really like my utensils have a mind all their own.



"Well, hello there, sweetie."

You see? Clearly, she has a mind of her own. So she typically works up the courage, psychs herself up, and after a deep breath, decides to approach the yummy dish.

Innocent, right? No different than, say, me at a bar buffet.

So without any conscious effort, I eat the dessert(s). And also whatever was left on the plate by my husband. And anything my kids didn't finish. And/or my co-workers, friends, and the people at the next table over. Just so I don't waste. 'Cause that's bad for the environment, or something like that.

And then, the shame of my overdose, combined with the embarrassment of the overhang around my waistband, rears its ugly head and makes me feel all the more like crap.




"Shut the fork up, damsel in diabetes!"

So what happens next? You guessed it.




"I only wanted to spoon."

 I go and eat my feelings.

It's a vicious cycle. But one that I am now ready to break. This time for serious. The first step is admitting my problem, loveys. Hi, my name is Helena, and I'm a sweetheart sugarholic.




My hump, my hump, my hump (Day).

Happy Hump Day, loveys! Here we are, smooshed inside the middle of another winter week. Just gotta get over the hump, and then we're off to our weekend.

You know, whenever I hear the word "hump," I immediately think of two things: 1) A dog in heat.



"I like it bloggy-style."

And 2) Digital Underground.

'Memba them? "Watch me do the Humpty Hump." Man, those were the days!

I apologize to any of you who didn't have the privilege of rockin' out to Digital Underground way back when; long before they were known as "the dude in the nose" and Tupac's humble beginnings.

You young whipper-snappers really missed out, not only on a dance even the elderly could do, but also an incredible fashion statement. Eons before Lady Gaga ever had Little Monsters, Digital Underground had Little Humpers. See?



I once got busy in a Social House Burger King bathroom.


Then, of course, The Black Eyes Peas gave us yet another glorious reason to make every day hump day:



"Get you love-drunk off my hump!"


I swear, ever since that song came out, I'm super paranoid about someone busting me out for staring at their humps.



Hey, buddy. My eyes are up here!



I know what you're thinking, now that you've read this blog post.

"Well, there's two minutes of my life I can't get back."

And you're right. (Three minutes if literacy isn't your strong suit.) But the silver lining? You're two minutes further over the hump!

Have a great 1/2 week, guys! :)

PLEASE GIVE ME THE SHIRT OFF YOUR BACK.

You know me, lovey. I don't ask for much. But you also know how much I love stuff.

So it should come as no surprise that I come to you now, asking for help with my obsession.

I'm no hoarder. Not even much of a shopper, or yard-saler. No, what I covet most in my random collection of must-haves are items that someone else has. I tend to want something owned by my nearest and dearest loveys. You know you've done it too; someone else has something you never even noticed before, and now, you need it. (It doesn't matter that you haven't done that since elementary school. Now, back to me.)

I don't ask for much. But I would like to have the shirt off your back.

See this t-shirt? It doesn't matter that it's a size XXL, and that it could fit you and me at the same time. What matters is that I only had to beg my brother for it for about a half-hour before he caved. Score!



Funny graphic tees are my weakness!

My latest score is a coffee mug from a co-worker. There's nothing special at all about this mug, guys. Except for his inexplicable tie to it. He carried it around like it was physically attached to his arm. Anytime he left his desk, so did the mug. Either he was way too attached to it, or he was deathly afraid of being roofied if he left it for 5 seconds. Whatever the case, I helped him with his addiction, and asked him if I could have it. That mug is happily sitting in my kitchen, now bedazzled and renamed Snoop Muggy Mug. I know, I need help.

I also like to trade my super-scores. Like this nifty Power Balance bracelet, for example. I'd just gotten it in black from my lovey Miguel, when I saw someone else with the exact same bracelet in red. Yes, please!

(Sidebar: This bracelet gave me no power whatsoever. I fully expected a full-on He-Man transformation when I put it on. I may sue.)



He-Man voice: "I have the power!"
Except it didn't go down like that at all.



 And then there's this little gem, taken right from my big sister's kitchen:



Lost a wing during the trip, but still cute as can bee.
(Ha! See what I did there?)



Remember back in school, the crappy art project we had to make, only to bring them home and have Mom "accidentally" drop it so it smashed into fragments, and had to be thrown away? No? Oh. I guess that was just me.

Anyhoo, this was something my little brother Nim made:

Nim's pal Dan dabbed brown paint on there.
Just in case it wasn't already fugly enough.

No, not when he was 5 years old. He was like 17. And both his hands work just fine, thank you. So you can see the level of effort involved. Didn't matter to me though. He made it, I coveted it, and here it sits, in my family room, on top of the bookshelf, behind the candles and under a stack of books. Proudly displayed.

I'm not denying I have a problem. Not at all. Actually, that's why I'm here now, asking you for help. I can't do this alone, loveys, and that's where you come in.

Remember, I don't ask for much. So I need you to step it up, and really have my back here. Almost like an intervention, except an outervention is what this situation actually calls for. 

What I really need...what will totally quiet the beast that is my Stuffaholism, guys, is this hat:





"I make this look good," said Bruno's hat to Bruno's face.

Not a hat similar to that. And not a hat from some crappy designer fedora line he's promoting. No. What I want; what I need is that. very. hat.
Now is that so much to ask?

FRIDAY FAVES

You know what I'm loving right now? Twitter.

Twitter has become better than satellite tv. For 1 thing, it follows me everywhere in my phone. If I need a laugh, or inspiration, or to view an NSFW pic in a hot second, Boom! There it is, at any time. TV never showed me that kind of dedication. Pfft!

And the entertainment options are completely without limit. Find your niche, anything that interests you, and follow tweeters who adore the same, and Bam! You're practically in love at 1st sight.
At least I was, after following several tweeps. It goes down like this: 1) I see someone's timeline, 2) I laugh, 3) I star and retweet (so you can love them too), 4) I list, and 5) I try to find out where they live, so I can stalk them in person too - it's a really beautiful thing.

If you're not big on Twitter, I will hold your hand and personally lead you to some of the greats.
Fair warning:
My interests are writing, laughing my jowls off, and lots of inappropriateness for work. What I find funny, you may find offensive...And that will only make it 10 times funnier to me.

V.A. Givens is a tweeter that will make you laugh, but also make you really think about her words. I love her long time!
Vaguely Funny Dan is way more than vaguely funny. He's actually laugh-till-you-pee-yourself funny.

SS - she says things I'd be too scared to think, much less say aloud, and even much less to tweet out to the world. Gotta love a girl who's smart, hilarious, and has nads of steel.

Just start there, loveys.

Read. Laugh. Repeat.

Happy Friday, guys!

FAILURES CAN BE FUN.

I love a good fail, besties.

Not all fails, mind you. The letter-from-my-teacher kind of fail sucks cactus.
The sorry-your-car-didn't-pass-inspection kind of fail hurts. And the worst, the we're-just-not-meant-for-each-other fails, are nobody's friend.

Epic failures are the opposite of sunshine. They effing blow.

But the little Oopsie! fails? Now those rock my freakin' face off.

Damn You Autocorrect is comedic genius to me. Should be called "Thank You Autocorrect." Thank you for making me laugh after a craptacular day. Thank you for allowing me to take delight in someone else's mortification. Thank you for making me laugh so hard, I get a halfway decent ab workout. Some much-needed smiles are always welcome, but more so now, in the midst of winter blue season. Right?

Let's see here:


You're Goddonut right I wanna bang tonight, motherducker.






Stopped moo-ing just before the tears come. 





"Mmm...manginas," said Rupaul to anyone with ears.





 

"Dear!!!" she said, tossing the shovel back into the garage.

This is why I don't even bother asking him to help with laundry anymore.

Thanks, Auto-cucumber. I ducking love you.