Why rabbits are a girl's best friend

During my recent re-entry into the world of online dating, one of the questions Okcupid wanted me to answer was: If you died and someone went through your belongings, would they be shocked at what they found? (Why this scenario has to involve death, and not, say, a nosy housekeeper, I'm not sure. Way to keep things positive, OkC!) Up until recently the answer would have been no. (Unless that person was my mother, in which case, she would be all, Condoms? Not condoms! Noooooo!) But now, thanks to my friend (who I can no longer call Pete The Present Tease, and who shall from now on be known as Pete, the Giver of Gifts), I have in my possession an object that could potentially cause me moderate embarrassment to mild chagrin, were it to fall into the wrong hands.

I'll give you a hint: What's purple, has bunny ears, and kind of sounds like a coffee grinder?

Well, if you don't know you're just going to have to ask someone, because that's about all I'm going to say about that. Ironically enough, a few months back someone contacted me with a link to their online store, and offered me a complimentary...umm, product...of my choice in exchange for reviewing it on my blog. I did think about it, because on the one hand--free! But ultimately I decided that, though I am all about unflinching honesty and embarrassing myself for you guys, reviewing this product on my blog seemed a bit too blush-inducing, even for me. And now, here I am, writing about it on my blog! I am nothing if not a contradiction, wrapped in a mystery, zipped up in a hoodie.

Yes, Pete proved himself to be the ultimate gift-giver, persisting even after his first attempt sort of...missed the mark. Let's just say the first version he sent was a perfect example of what a guy thinks a girl would like. I'll be honest: it was horrifying. The stuff of nightmares. Like, you want me to do what with that? But after some gentle nudging, and some hints along the lines of, "Actually, I was thinking of something a little more...purple," he pulled through. He even hand-delivered it and spent the night, unlike a certain immature man-child who shall remain nameless, Andrew. So, thanks Pete.

Now I just have to figure out a story for all the recent arrivals to my newly packed house that would explain all this coffee I'm grinding in my room. Cappuccino, anyone?