My new favorite word is husband

Heeeeey there, Blog Friends!

I went and got married on you last month, and obviously I’m a brand new lady with a whole new personality. 

I’m lying about that last part. I’m the same me. Just way less stressed than I was during that whole wedding planning bullshit.

Our wedding was magical, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it, but first…let’s talk about how much more awesome the word husband is than boyfriend. 

I’ve been using it a lot on the twitter, and it’s pretty fucking magical.


It feels like using the word, “husband” has more clout than the word boyfriend. Like when we were in a bar in Belgium. Brian was getting drinks at the downstairs bar, and this guy starting hitting on me from across the room. I must have looked super sexy hunting pokemon on my phone or something. When he popped up creepily behind me in the middle of a selfie and asked if I wanted a drink, I told him my husband was getting me one. After an awkward 27 seconds, he walked away. And when Brian returned, I gave him a big ole smooch. 


Honeymoon at versaille

Or when we were in Disneyland Paris, and I went down to breakfast solo and asked to bring a take away box to my husband who slept through breakfast.

Because it’s important to ensure that your spouse is fed and happy. As my husband, it’s Brian’s job to make sure I’m properly fed at all times. I was just trying to return the sentiment.

Apparently, we spent a lot of time and energy on food during our honeymoon.

So far things are off to a good start. Three weeks of marriage, and I think I’ll keep my new husband.

I’m pretty confident I’m doing the wife thing right. I’m really good at being sexy.

Obviously, Brian is incredibly lucky to have me. Hopefully, he likes the word wife as much as I like the word husband.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Things I’m Learning About Twitter

Twitter is this magic beast; it’s quite the antithesis of Facebook, really. A lot of people shouting and pretending to listen, but no one’s really fighting (most of the time) because they’re caught up in their own jam.

Unless you’re following hashtags and that’s a whole ‘nother world. But if you’re not following hashtags, and you’re just following people, there’s a rabbit hole of awesome that you, too, can experience in the flesh.

When you're playing the Twitter game, these tips will help you make the most of this social space.

I’ve had a Twitter account for years, but I feel like a total noob, which obviously isn’t stopping me from telling you how to win at Twitter. This is what I’m learning.
1. Twitter likes you best when you’re hot, lazy, and love food. The number of people who followed me over the course of the year was completely correlated to the attractiveness of my profile picture (you know what a selfie whore I am) and the number of times I mentioned cheese. My best tweets all involve me not wanting to remove myself from bed, but desperately craving food or eating an embarrassing number of doughnuts. Whatever. Twitter, I get you. This is why we’re friends.

2. It’s all about go big or go home. The way to grow your Twitter followership? Actively immerse yourself in the Twitter. I mean, if you’re lazy and love food, you’ll love wasting your time on Twitter. I do. There are a lot of hilarious as fuck people out there. I think to myself, “can I keep you?” And then I follow them on Twitter. And I can keep them in my pocket. It’s like magic.

3. You can make friends all over the place when you’re weird. That go big thing about Twitter being a time suck? It’s because you’re supposed to socialize in the blue bird sandbox. Get crackin’ and find the people who get your humor/sentiments/anger/love/weirdness. They’ll welcome you with open retweets and faves. Unless you’re a dick. And even then, someone probably likes you. Again with the magic.

4. The pound sign is out. Remember when that was what we called the #? Hashtags are fun to make up but totally not required to make friends. Don’t worry you can still hash your heart out on Instagram. Or you can run with the Twitter pack that plays the hashtag game.

5. It’s all in the hips. Not really. I just wanted to say that. Honestly, I think it’s all about who you are. If you’re weird, like food a little too much and hate getting out of bed, you’ll probably enjoy being my Twitter friend, but if you’re the complete opposite,  I’m absolutely positive there are people who’ll get you too.

What do you like best about Twitter? Which is your favorite social network? Why?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Sometimes We Just Need a Reminder

Good morning, Blog Friends!

Brian and I are on our way to Gen Con right now. You may find me Twitterstalking Wil Wheaton or racing around Indianapolis playing ALL THE GAMES.

All Gen Con gaming joy nerd stalking aside, I’m sharing my view from here (which I guess isn’t here, like, Chicago-here, because right now it’s somewhere-between-Indianapolis-and-Chicago here, but the general premise is that it’s my view of my life which is in the Chicago suburbs and stuff) over at Dancing in the Rain today. So if you’re interested in reading about how Brian and I work through the tough stuff and the reminder that helps us daily, please go and check out my guest post A Life Full of Awesome.

I’m closing comments on this post so that you follow the internet rabbit hole and comment on my post at Jennifer’s blog home so that she thinks I’m cool. I’m really excited for you to read this one, so go check it out.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Rocking Out at the Windy City Soiree

Last week, I gave you a basic recap of BlogHer; then I whined; and then I whined some more. But I like to leave things on a high note, so this week is all about the joys of BlogHer and the parties and the people and the sponsors. Because shit, you guys, I really did have a great time.

My first party was before the conference. A little “Welcome to Chicago” gathering of bloggy lady friends.

Bloggy lady friends that I knew NONE of.

I left work ridic early to get to this shindiggity at Water Tower Place (a mere couple of miles from the job). I got there and realized, that I knew no one…and was kind of…on my own.

I started completing some fashion missions, because missions and competitions are fun. And so is free shit! AND PRIZES.

Bare Minerals Mascara

They really did make my lashes lashier at Bare Minerals

Sephora's Facial Recognition

Holy Crap. At Sephora, they’ll test out your face and e-mail you what make up matches your skin tone!

I ran into some ladies and we briefly exchanged names…and this girl recognized me (from Twitter, y’all…not that blog famous yet). She was SUPER nice, and then her group was on their merry way.

The Australian BeeGees

See, The Australian BeeGees

It was about time for The Australian BeeGees to perform and I thought I’d wander around aimlessly figuring out what I should do, while I worried that leaving work early was kind of silly…when out of the blue like grey clouds parting, Stacy Jill was all “hey! Come over here!” (She was the sweetie I had previously met). She noted my lost puppy look and adopted me. BOY! Was I glad she did!

From then on, I had a tribe. A tribe of ridiculously sweet lady blogger friends. For the rest of the week, I ran into Stacy EVERYWHERE…She’s the best. If you don’t know her, you should.

Milkshake from M Burger. YUM.

Milkshake from M Burger. YUM. BTW check out those lashy lashes.

We skipped the fashion show for snacks. We at ridiculous amounts of ice cream from M Burger. We raced around the mall looking for candy. We dined at Food Life. We drank wine. We laughed. We talked. We shared. Everyone gave me their gluten free snackies. (This is a trend. It’s kind of entertaining. All of my bloggy friends gave me gluten free snacks that they didn’t want.) It was exactly what I needed to ease my BlogHer anxiety. And from there I was excited. I was more than excited. I couldn’t wait!

Thanks so much to Water Tower Place, the shops, and of course, Chicagonistas MJ Tam and Beth Rosen for an AMAZING time.

By far, this was my favorite BlogHer party (official or unofficial).

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Confession Friday: I Love Myself

A short post but the truest of genuine posts that could possibly be.

I don’t want to sound cocky or anything…but sometimes…I totally think I’m awesome. Even when I’m not.

I have this thing for liking my own blog posts. And Facebook statuses. And tweets. And anything else that I could possibly like that belongs to me.

It’s not even a stats game.

Because I stopped obsessing over the stats.

I’ve got a friend who likes every comment she makes or posts on Facebook. And I admire that in a person. I mean, if you say it, you should like it right?

And I recently realized that no matter how much shit does not go the way you want it to or expect it to…

If you love your life, you should live your life and not worry about the things that haven’t happened yet or the things that you can’t change.

So I decided that I’m going to love my life. And my blog posts.

Twitter Likes Blog Post Likes

 

 

 

 

What can I say?

I’m a sucker for liking myself.

I like my own posts

 

What about you, Blog Friends? Do you like your own posts? Tweets? Do you think it’s ridiculous that I like mine…publicly?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

No Really, I’m Going to be 30…And I Need Your Help.

So I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this or not…but I’m going to be 30. In one week. After my golden birthday comes and goes, I will return to 29. And stay there. Forever.

In all reality, I’m much less panicked than I was upon turning 25. That was a very strange time in my life. I was dating someone who’s oldest child was closer in age to me than he was (you know, just in the opposite direction). I was spending most of my free time drinking or bartending (I had a full time gig as a catering manager). And I was terrified. 25 scared me. Even though I said that 30 was my scary age, 25 was right there. Waiting for me. With that whole quarter-life crisis thing.

But 25 came and went. And I survived. And I know that I’ll survive this one too. I’ll get by with a little help from my friends.

Get to the point, Chrissy…

The point is this: I’ve already done so much. And there’s so much more life to live. I’m creating a bucket list for 40. 10 years. 40 things. And it’s going to be spectacular.

But I’ve also got another plan. Thanks to my word worm, Katie, I have become a Twitter fiend. Sometimes, I tweet along with Grey’s Anatomy. Sometimes I tweet at famous people, hoping that they’ll love me and respond. And one time. No. Two times, Blessid Union of Souls retweeted me. Because they are awesome. And the Bloggess offered to share her Bloggie award with me. Because she is the most awesome ever.

TheBloggess (TheBloggess) on Twitter 2013-05-22 22-54-19And in true Bloggess fashion, I think it it would be fun to try to get some famous people to tell me “Happy Birthday.” Or “Go Fuck Yourself”. Or “Dude. Hi.” I’m not really picky what they say to me. I just think it would be cool to see how many famous people I can get to acknowledge my existence.

We all know what a fool I am when I meet famous people in real life. I have a much better chance of remaining calm digitally. So help me out. Send a famous tweeter or two my Twitter handle (@chrissawoj) and tell them that it would be fantastic if they could send me a little love over the next week. Pictures. Videos. Tweets. All seem like brilliant ideas. Because I’m pushing 30 and dammit I want to ring it in. In the best way possible.

Blog friends, who would you want to tweet at you on your birthday? Please tell me it’s someone awesome.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Because YOU Asked For It: The Fan Pants

I was having a  little bit of writer’s block this morning…so I posed the question to my pals in the social media world…what the hell should I write about today? And what I got back was brilliance. Today’s post is brought to you by the wonderful world of Facebook, Twitter, and my fucking awesome fashion choices in life. Among other things.

Katie says, “Write about the fan pants!”

Unfortunately, when Katie made that suggestion, she opened a can of worms that will likely take up the majority of the blog post. I can’t help it. We were fashion victims and didn’t even know it. Gather round Blog Friends, and listen to the tale of Bradley. You can backtrack to when I first met Katie (who I very briefly referred to on this blog as Penny…but then she outed herself in her first guest post about Cinderblocks) at Bradley…or you can just join in the fun here.

Katie and I were VERY different people. She was an angry bookworm who wore grunge tee-shirts and wide leg jeans…I was a peppy social butterfly who wore flared jeans with “party shirts.” I listened to pop music; she listened to 90’s and classic rock. She was a Mac. I was a PC. But somehow, we shared a brain. It was like she knew me before she knew me. She understood me. And even when she was secretly (or openly) judging me, she still loved me.

Katie is family. Katie is my butter-churning sister from a past life. Katie and I have had an on-going battle royale fight discussion about our differences in opinion when it came to fashion…She wore Jar Jar Binks boxer shorts with these hideous doggie socks (all. the. time.) I wore fan pants.

Secretly Judging Your WardrobeJar Jar Binks Boxer Shorts

Annnnnyways, what are fan pants? You ask…

Fan pants were a flared pair of denim jeans (my favorite for quite some time) that had pleats in the flares. I’ve always had a thing for jeans that are a little bit different than other jeans. When I was five, I stopped wearing jeans (FOR SEVEN YEARS) because I outgrew my favorite pair of jeans (that were splashed with bright colored paint) and couldn’t find an adequate replacement.

Sweet pants

Me and the sweet ass pants. Making things happen (and looking exceptionally skinny!)

So after plotting out the post about these pants, I came up with a plan. First, I decided that I would try to find them on the internet because the internet knows EVERYTHING. Unfortunately, the place catalog that I ordered the fan pants from more than a decade ago (Shut it. Shut the fuck up now. Stop judging me for being old.) is now out of business and their website is gone. But I did come across an AMAZING blog post about that company…Girlfriends LA anyone? There, I found the following catalog images…

Girlfriends LA Catalog  Bathing Suit

I had like…everything on this page.

Girlfriends LA Bag

See, there’s the bag hiding in this picture of me after graduating from high school…in Florida…

Girlfriends LA bathing suit 2

There’s the bathing suit…in Florida…BEFORE graduating from high school. I was a lucky girl to go twice in one year!

Girlfriends LA Bathing suit

There’s that bathing suit in Florida again. Check out the HUGE headphones.

Girlfriends LA Catalog Sweater

I had the long black sweater

At which point, I decided that it was time to dig through my photo box. And by box I mean giant tub ‘o pictures…

Memory box

This is as far as I got before I gave up and decided that you’re getting enough awesome for one day.

This is the best I could do with the fan pants. There was a better picture of the pants, but I didn’t think you would want to see Shawn til Dawn’s thonged-ass over them…

The fan pants

It’s an angle thing. I wasn’t ACTUALLY that disproportionate…

Alpha Phi Omega Burke Family

Same picture…WAY more proportionate.

And this is also where I found all sorts of glorious pictures of Katie and I. But I’ll only show you this one. And it’s really to make up for the less than flattering picture that I captioned above. But you know, that’s what happens when you secretly judge me.

College girls in party shirts

This was the same year. After we took Katie shopping for “party shirts”

OK, there were definitely more ideas, but I think that this post is quite long enough. Tomorrow I will be posting responses/answers to the rest of your suggestions and questions.

So what else do you want to know about me? Ask me anything and I’ll respond tomorrow!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Brian Shares Saturday: Puns, Tweets, and Vacation Homes

Because it’s been one hell of a couple of weeks, Brian hasn’t had a whole lot of time to send me awesome things that he found on the internet…And I’m off to go do important things this afternoon, so today’s shares will be short and sweet. And if you’re looking for an overabundance of cute (in the words of Brian), head over to That Ash Girl for some FUCKING AWESOME sloth pictures and videos.

Hilarious Puns

I love a good pun, don’t you? I worked at a little breakfast nook called Eggstasy, just because of the name. Seriously.

Tearable Puns

Tweets Around the World

This is just fucking crazy. Take a minute and check it out. I promise you won’t be disappointed. Tweetping shows you how fast people tweet. It’s insane. Oh hey…and go ahead and add me to your Twitter feed. Sometimes, I’m funny.

Dream Vacation Home…Almost

Ski Dream House Ski Dream House2

Brian sent me this ski dream house (more pictures in the link) and I was all, “OMG Can we go there? And NOT ski(you can see why I don’t ski…)”

His response? “You should buy this as our winter lodge when you’re rich and famous.”

“Um…BEACH HOUSE.”

“Can’t we have more than one?”

Apparently, he’s really banking on me getting famous now…

Almost famous

 If you like me, you should click here to vote for me!

What about you, Blog Friends? Seen anything cool on the web that I should know about?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!