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Showing posts from August, 2014

Coupons and Self Control

As soon as something is discounted I buy it. Seriously. If you ever want me to buy something then send me a gift certificate or coupon for some amount of money off that is a multiple of $5.

The best month for this for everyone, is of course birthday month. Well, August just happens to be
mine, and while I am a year older (and a hell of a year that was) I have not gained any self-control when it comes to the topic of spending money because I get to save money. Just ask Ulta about the damage I did last night because I was promised discounts and a free birthday mascara (which they were out of).
DSW is one of the many places that sends me a gift certificate for my birthday, knowing they’ll lure me in with $5 or $10 off. So of course I packed up the twins and went shoe shopping.
One thing that you all need to know about me shoe shopping (as if you don’t already know) is that logic and wearability has very little to do with why I buy shoes. Instead I buy shoes like animals hunt. Totally o…

Catching Up on Louboutin

I need to start using my iPad more. I bet I can nurse babies and type on my iPad. (You’re welcome for that disturbing visual). I also need to not be sick, which I’m not anymore, so that’s a good start. And if both babies would sleep through the night, then I’d totally have it together and write on a way more regular basis. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in over 5 months.

Now that I’m done with my excuses, let’s talk Louboutin.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock you know that the shoe genius released a line of nail polish, priced at the pretty penny of $50 a bottle. Despite being the most expensive nail lacquer I know of, it is also sold out everywhere.

I attribute this to a few factors:
The bottle is totally bad ass and made of crystalThe bottle top can double as a weapon. You can stab someone and then finish your manicure. It’s like James Bond toys for women. Everyone wants to own something Louboutin and $50 is just the price point where we can all do it. The eight inch tall…

No One Notices My Shoes Anymore

I’ve decided the best way to live life post-baby is to simply pack the little droolers up (seriously, so much drool) and do the things I used to do. Except go to bars. Babies aren’t welcome in bars.
Granted, packing them up is like an hour ordeal, which includes figuring out which of the three strollers to take (none of which are ideal), making sure there’s at least one extra outfit per baby, bottles, maybe a breastpump (and accessories), diapers, wipes, baby sling (because sometimes they hate the stroller), and I’m sure there’s other random crap I pack without even thinking of it.

This weekend Husband and I packed up the girls and their little ruffle-butts and drove off to Flashback Weekend, a local horror movie convention. Because babies should totally be at horror conventions. It also gave me a chance to wear my Freddy Krueger shoes again, this time with the chance that Robert Englund would see them, because he was there somewhere.

For the record, no I didn’t see him, and he did…