Favorite Finds & Must Haves
Welcome to the part of the website where financial responsibility comes to die.
These are the things I bought because TikTok told me to, Amazon seduced me at 10:28 p.m., or I somehow convinced myself “THIS WILL CHANGE MY LIFE.” And occasionally…it actually did.
Expect home stuff, kitchen gadgets, beauty finds, clothes, dog crap, cozy things, completely unnecessary bullshit, and random treasures I will defend like I invented them.
If I love it, use it, wear it, cook with it, swear by it - or yelled “JET, COME LOOK AT THIS!” when it showed up - it might end up here.
Grab your coffee. Hide your credit card.
We’re making terrible financial decisions together.
Favorite Finds
The best night's sleep EVER
I’ve been taking LullaBites religiously for over a year, and let me tell you - they have me sleeping like I don’t have bills, responsibilities, or a human chainsaw humming beside me.
The recommended dose is two, but I personally only take one. That’s my sweet spot for sleeping soundly without waking up feeling like I’ve been tranquilized by the local zoo. Everyone’s different, so follow the directions and figure out what works for you.
For me? Absolute must-have. 10/10. The chainsaw can keep sawing. I’m going to bed.
NY/NJ Pizza anywhere
The Old Stone 16" Pizza Stone isn’t a kitchen accessory anymore. She’s family. She has tenure. She may actually be in the will.
Every Friday, this bitch gets hauled out because PIZZA FRIDAY IS NOT A SUGGESTION. IT IS A RELIGION.
She gives us that crispy, glorious crust that makes us feel like we own a tiny Italian pizzeria instead of two people aggressively throwing cheese on dough in Vermont.
Jet can get creative with the toppings. I can supervise. But the stone? She carries this family on her back every damn Friday.
If she ever breaks, there will be no Pizza Friday. There will be no joy. There will only be grief counseling and a GoFundMe.
12/10. Permanent houseguest. Never asked to leave.
VINTED - You've Been Warned!
Let me introduce you to Vinted - the magical little app where you can sell your shit, buy other people’s shit, and somehow convince yourself you are saving money while doing both.
Got clothes in your closet you haven't worn since 2019? SELL THAT SHIT.
Need a whole new wardrobe? BUY SOMEONE ELSE'S SHIT.
Want to clean out your closet AND immediately refill it with somebody else's clothes?
VINTED HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.
It’s basically adult recycling, except instead of feeling environmentally responsible, you’re sitting on your couch at 10:47 PM thinking, “I absolutely need this $12 sweater.”
And honestly? I highly recommend it.
Clean out your closet. Make some money. Freshen up your wardrobe. Find things you actually want without paying full retail.
BUT BE CAREFUL WHO YOU RECOMMEND THIS APP TO.
Because I made the mistake of introducing Jet to Vinted.
And that man has gone completely fucking rogue.
He is buying. He is selling. He is scrolling. He is negotiating.
I don't even know who he is anymore. At this point, I'm not entirely sure whether I'm his girlfriend or just another item he's evaluating for resale. “Great condition. Slightly used. Comes with emotional baggage. $7.99 plus shipping.”
So yes… download Vinted.
Just do NOT recommend it to your boyfriend unless you are prepared to potentially be listed for sale.
10/10 app. 0/10 for my personal safety. Shop responsibly, friends. And if you see me listed on Vinted, mind your business.
Doctor’s Best PepZin GI: Because My Stomach Has Been a Drama Queen Since 1987
Listen. Some people have a nervous stomach.
I have a nervous gastrointestinal terrorist that has been threatening to ruin my life since elementary school.
For as long as I can remember, anxiety, excitement, stress, eating, breathing, existing slightly too aggressively - you name it - could trigger the immediate sensation of:
OH GOD. I’M GOING TO SHIT MY PANTS!
There was a time when leaving the house required the strategic planning of a military operation. Where are the bathrooms? How far away are they? Is there traffic? Did I eat something questionable? Do I have Imodium? Tums? Omeprazole? A change of underwear? A priest?
My purse was basically a traveling CVS for my digestive system.
Then years ago, I started taking Doctor’s Best PepZin GI Zinc-L- Carnosine Complex because I was suffering from what I know now was a acute pancreatic attack, and this little orange-capped bottle has become one of my ride-or-dies.
For me, the difference has been HUGE.
My acid reflux became far more manageable. My stomach stopped acting like every mildly stressful situation required an emergency evacuation. And that lifelong “nervous belly” that had me convinced a poop attack was lurking around every corner?
CALM. THE. FUCK. DOWN.
I went from practically keeping Imodium AD, Tums, and omeprazole on payroll to realizing one day that I wasn't constantly reaching for them anymore.
Do you understand the FREEDOM of going somewhere without immediately locating the nearest bathroom like you're Jason Bourne conducting surveillance?
WHERE ARE THE EXITS?
WHERE IS THE BATHROOM?
HOW FAST CAN I GET THERE?
IS THAT A SINGLE-STALL OR ARE WE ABOUT TO MAKE FRIENDS?
That was my life.
Now my stomach and I have entered what I can only describe as a tentative peace agreement.
I've been taking PepZin GI for years because it has genuinely worked well for me, and that's exactly why it's making my Favorite Finds list.
Is this me saying it'll magically fix everyone else's stomach?
Nope. Supplements and digestive issues are personal, and persistent reflux or bowel symptoms deserve a conversation with your healthcare provider - especially before changing medications.
But my formerly feral digestive tract?
She's finally learned some fucking manners.
Kelly's Favorite Find: 10/10
Poop-Attack Anxiety: Significantly less dramatic
My Former Tums Consumption: No longer keeping the company in business
Ability to leave home without mapping every bathroom within a 12-mile radius: PRICELESS
PepZin GI, thank you for your service. My stomach, my commute, and every pair of pants I own appreciate you.
Make-up is wiped out
I was skeptical because apparently we’re just supposed to believe a little pink cloth can take off an entire day’s worth of makeup with WATER?!
But the Original MakeUp Eraser earned a permanent spot in my bathroom. Wet it, wipe your face, and somehow the mascara, foundation, and evidence of every questionable beauty decision you made that morning just… disappears.
It’s soft, reusable, washable, and saves me from going through approximately 47 makeup wipes a week.
Do I understand the witchcraft? No. Do I question it anymore? Also no.
10/10 - wash it, reuse it, and let the tiny magical face towel do its thing.
In Don Pepino we trust. Mostly because Jet said so.
Don Pepino’s Pizza Sauce with Jersey Tomatoes entered this house because Jet’s Facebook pizza cult - I mean, group - said it was THE sauce - they are NOT wrong.
And when a bunch of grown-ass people on Facebook start passionately discussing tomatoes, crust bubbles, hydration percentages, and proper cheese distribution like they’re negotiating a damn peace treaty, apparently you listen.
Jet now SWEARS BY THIS SHIT. Pizza Friday rolls around and Don Pepino better be in the pantry or we’re apparently one can of tomatoes away from a full-blown domestic crisis.
And dammit… the pizza nerds were right. It’s rich, delicious, requires basically no screwing around, and has officially become part of the Pizza Friday Holy Trinity: the stone, the sauce, and Jet hovering over the oven like he’s awaiting the birth of his first child.
12/10 - Jersey tomatoes, Facebook-certified, Jet-obsessed, and if we run out on a Friday, everybody just stay the fuck out of the kitchen.
Front Runner Athletic Medicine
Let me tell you about my friend Kim, who owns Front Runner Athletic Medicine in South Burlington/Williston, Vermont. I’ve been seeing Kim weekly for over two years for my constant headaches and TMJ, and at this point, I genuinely cannot imagine my life without my therapy sessions with her.
Now, let me set the expectations:
If you're looking for a tranquil little spa experience with soft music, candles, essential oils and someone whispering, “Breathe deeply…”
This ain't it.
If you want to walk out feeling 110% better, have some damn good conversation, laugh your ass off, and actually feel like someone is fixing the shit that's bothering you…
WELCOME HOME.
Kim’s manual therapy is absolutely TOP NOTCH. She knows what she's doing, and she doesn't just go through the motions. She actually listens, figures out what your body is doing, and gets to work. And somewhere between the therapy, the conversations, the laughing, the complaining about life, and occasionally questioning why the hell I agreed to let her do that to my muscles… I leave feeling like an actual human being again.
But Kim is so much more than an incredible therapist.
She's an accomplished runner, marathoner, trainer, mom, business owner, and one hell of a human being.
She's become one of those people who isn't just part of my weekly routine - she's part of my life. And after more than two years of showing up every week, I can honestly say that my sessions with Kim have helped me physically and mentally. Sometimes you need someone who can work the knots out of your neck and also listen to you bitch about the rest of your life.
Kim does both.
So, if you're in Vermont and your body is screaming, “For the love of God, please do something about me,” message Kim. If you want to feel human again, this is your place.
Just don't expect the candles and whispering.
10/10 recommend Kim and Front Runner Athletic Medicine. Tell her Kelly sent you. And Kim… you're stuck with me. Sorry (but not really).
Candles: Because Opening a Window in Vermont Is Seasonal
Listen, I love my house. I love that it’s old. I love the character, the charm, the history, the cozy Vermont farmhouse vibes.
What I do not love is when that history decides to become a fucking scent.
You know the smell. That vague “this house has been standing for 200 years and has SEEN SOME SHIT” smell.
Add a dog and a man to the equation and now we’ve got ourselves a full-blown aromatic emergency.
If you have a dog, you know. They can be freshly bathed, smelling like shampoo and sunshine, and somehow 36 hours later you're sitting on the couch thinking, Why does it smell like Fritos and ass in here?
And MEN.
I love Jet dearly. Adore him. Would choose him a million times over.
But that man can release something from his body that makes me question whether we need to evacuate the fucking house.
No candle should have to work this hard.
Enter Goose Creek Candles.
These things are my SHIT.
First of all, the scents are ON POINT. They smell like what they're supposed to smell like. If I buy something that's supposed to smell like apples, cinnamon, pumpkin, vanilla, Christmas trees, or whatever seasonal personality I've adopted that month, I want to actually SMELL IT.
I don't want to light a $30 candle and have to stand directly over it whispering, “Is that... cinnamon?”
NO.
I want to light that bitch in the kitchen and have Jet walk through the front door ten minutes later like:
“DAMN. What smells so good?”
THAT'S A CANDLE.
They burn nicely, they burn clean, the scent actually travels through the house, and—possibly most dangerous of all - Goose Creek is always having some kind of damn sale.
And I have absolutely no self-control.
I go online because I need one candle.
Suddenly I've got Apple Cheesecake, Warm & Cozy Whatever, Grandma's Christmas Kitchen, Pumpkin Ass Explosion and 11 other candles in my cart because THEY WERE ON SALE, JET. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FINANCIALLY IRRESPONSIBLE NOT TO BUY THEM.
That's just economics.
And when you live with The Sugar Bear, an old house, whatever we cooked for dinner, hiking boots, hunting gear, and a grown man with an apparently functioning internal methane production facility, you need backup.
Goose Creek is my backup.
So yes, I'm going to keep lighting candles like I'm performing an exorcism.
Because my house may be old.
My dog may occasionally smell like a corn chip factory.
And my boyfriend may fart like he's trying to communicate with the dead.
But my house is going to smell fucking DELIGHTFUL.
10/10 Favorite Find.
Keeping the lady garden fresh
This one has earned permanent shower real estate.
The Summer’s Eve Feminine Wash with Boric Acid is gentle, fresh, and makes me feel clean without feeling like I’ve power-washed the entire neighborhood.
I love it for that fresh, balanced, “everything downstairs has its life together” feeling - even when the rest of me absolutely does not.
A little goes a long way, it’s made for external use, and it has officially become one of those products I hate running out of.
10/10 - because sometimes even the lady bits deserve their own skincare routine.
Smooth legs, slippery shower fun
Tree Hut Tangerine Shave Oil smells so damn good it has absolutely no business being attached to an activity as annoying as shaving your legs.
It leaves my skin ridiculously smooth, gives me a great shave, and smells like an orange grove and a tropical vacation had a very sexy little baby.
BUT LISTEN TO ME.
This shit is SLICK. One enthusiastic squirt misses your leg and suddenly your shower has become a naked Olympic qualifying event!
One second you’re shaving your calf, the next you’re doing an involuntary split, grabbing the shampoo rack for Jesus, and wondering if the EMTs will at least let you put underwear on before they haul your ass out.
10/10 smell. 10/10 shave. 47/10 chance of meeting your ancestors if you don’t rinse the shower floor.
Absolutely love it. Buy it.
Just remember: smooth legs aren’t worth a fucking hip replacement.
Amy's Adult Gifts
Let me introduce you to my best friend Amy - and this woman is officially THE QUEEN OF PEEN.
I’m not even kidding.
When we have our weekly get-togethers, I am surrounded by penises.
On pens. On keychains. On air fresheners. On notebooks.
On mugs. And honestly? I’m not mad about it.
These aren't your boring, run-of-the-mill gifts either. Amy makes the CUTEST, funniest, most ridiculous stuff featuring everyone's favorite anatomical celebrity…Little Richard!
Want a penis pen? She's got you.
Want a little Richard dangling from your keys? Obviously.
Want an air freshener that makes your car smell good while simultaneously making everyone wonder what the hell is hanging from your mirror? SHE'S GOT YOU.
And here's the best part: If she doesn't have your theme, she'll make it. You want something specific? Ask her.
You want something hilarious? She's your girl.
You need a gift for someone who has absolutely everything? Give them a Richard.
Seriously, go check out Amy's Adult Gifts. Support a small business, support my best friend, and embrace the fact that sometimes the perfect accessory for your keys is a tiny penis.
Because let's be honest…
Who doesn't want a dick dangling from their keys?
Amy, you're the Queen of Peen, and I couldn't be prouder to call you my best friend.
Now go forth, friends. Buy the damn Richard!
