I’m Bad at Gifts (Thank Goodness for Uncommon Goods)

Note: This post contains sponsored links from Uncommon Goods

Gift giving is not my forte. If you ask Boyfriend, he’ll be too kind and say something like “well, your gifts are always really useful.” Last Christmas I got him a pillow, for his birthday it was a wallet. I maintain that these were all things he needed, but alas, that’s not really what gifts are about.

Last month, while on the search for home goods, I stumbled upon Uncommon Goods. I was quickly drawn to their unique products, particularly the extremely helpful Christmas Gift Ideas section. I’m not even mad that I got distracted from silverware and dining sets because I now have a list of possible Boyfriend Christmas gifts and none of them are pillows or wallets.

Don’t be fooled, my epically bad gift-giving skills extend to friends as well, I’m an equal opportunity bad gift giver. Unless I find something absolutely perfect by chance, I don’t give gifts at all, which I feel terrible about. Uncommon Goods has a million ideas, there’s something perfect for each and every one of my delightfully weird and wonderful friends. From adorable gifts for my BFF to presents for college pals and colleagues alike, everyone’s covered.

Here are a few of my favorites:

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Loofah Scrubber 3 Piece Soap Set

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Women’s Soft Serve Socks

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On the Rocks Set

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Heart Center Garden Stakes

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Homesick Candles

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Himalayan Salt Tequila Glasses

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Friendship Inspirational Pendant

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Unzipped Glass Zipper Bag

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Beer Opening Glass


Most importantly, and something I did not learn about Uncommon Goods until writing this post, they are a seriously awesome company. They are excellent to their employees, their suppliers, and their customers, which can be really hard to find. They had me at health insurance for employees, but darn if they don’t also give back and support artists. Check them out, I promise you, they are worth your time.

Best of luck.

I'm Bad at Gifts (1)


Feelings Friday: Tattoos, Expression, and Haterade

Two years ago I got a tattoo. It wasn’t a monumental occasion. I’d gotten a couple of tattoos before and it wasn’t anything intricate.

In fact, it was a line.


A year into my Peace Corps service, I got one line around my leg. After I completed my second year, I got a second. Nothing big or particularly beautiful, but it meant something to me. It was a reminder of two years of struggle and joy.


When the scabs flaked off and it stopped looking moderately scary, I loved my tattoo. I wrote about it and put that writing on the internet.

Enter: the haters.

Some guy decided my tattoo, and by proxy I, was stupid. He reblogged my post on a “stupid tattoos” blog and because I am perhaps an overly sensitive type, my feelings were substantially hurt.

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