big news bears

There seem to be a lot of expectations from others for this post. In addition to the Ahhh's! and the Congrats! I've gotten a lot of I can't wait to read the blog post about this!!

Yikes. Color me nervous. 

And this is maybe why I shouldn't blog--because telling big life events is hard. It is so much easier just to tell you about the time I bought a fur vest. Or try to explain my level of jealousy when it comes to my sister's hair. But alas, all of those topics have a huge shadow cast over them by...

My engagement!

Holy What?

Holy, yes. A ring, my finger, and the Freddiefiancé (formerly known as the Freddiefriend).

Here's a quick Snapchat picture to tide you over for the novel you're about to read.

I'm not quite sure where to start this story. Let's see...

Once Upon a Time Freddie and Emily officially met... No, not there.

Once Upon a Time Freddie got a new job and moved to Charleston... No, not there. 

How about here...

As soon as Friday, April 26 started, I was packed and ready to go for a doozy of a weekend. And by doozy I mean, extremely busy. My student's end of the year Aladdin Jr. show was on Saturday. Everything we had been working on since last fall was coming to end. Bittersweet and a teensy tiny bit (a whole lotta bit) stressful. Freddiefriend came into town still and we decided we'd go to a fancy schmancy wine bar post Aladdin show to spend some time together. Saturday morning I leave bright and early to go teach and then spend the entire day at the performances. Freddie tells me he is going to hang out with his sister in Newnan. Sound weird to you? No? Me either. I love me some sibling bonding time. 

Somewhere in the midst of painting the Genie's face blue and brushing out a Jasmine weave (people, my job is great. Did you hear what I just said I was doing?), FF texts me to tell me he is going to stop by my parent's house while in Newnan and say hi. Sound weird to you? No? Me either. Fredster has gone to hang out with my fam several times without me. 

A short stop to say hi turned into him spending hours there all during the afternoon. Sound weird to you? Oh, it does? No, not to me. Why wouldn't Freddie want to spend time with my family? Better than driving back to Atlanta and doing nothing while I was working. Right? RIGHT?

Hint hint: this is the part of the story where Freds is asking dad's permission and telling people and showing my family the ring. 

Freddie skips back up to the ATL and comes to my kids' last show. Just as planned, we hit up the most happenin' little wine bar in Dunwoody, Ga and laugh and talk and stare lovingly into each other's eyes for awhile. Sap sap sappy sap, you know you like it. 

As soon as we get back he starts playing some music on the iHome. I start adding his name into every song played. For instance, we listen to songs such as Hey There, Delilah Freddie Weiss and Isn't HE Lovely? I'm dancing around and making Freddie sway back and forth with me. Basically we are just having a big ball of fun. Anyone else want to come hang out with me so I can add your name in songs?

The next 10 seconds play out something like this:

Freddie (while swaying with Emily): I want to do this for the rest of our lives.

Emily (while swaying and mouthing Freddie Weiss lyrics): What? Dance and me sing songs? Let's start tomorrow!

Freddie: Why wait that long? Why don't we start tonight?

Wam bam, thank you m'am, Freddie is on one knee, has a ring in his hands and is asking me something about marrying him.

Freddie Weiss say whaaaaat?!

No really, what did you say, Freddie?!

There was then some poppin' bottles, and some phone calls that had to be made, and some more dialogue that went like this:

Emily: bosurhgjsdru RING skfsukrgj FREDDIE ksufhjsuhfoeau WHAT

That's me speaking gibberish, btdubs. Oh hello, Miss I Can't Form Words or Thoughts Right Now. Try me again in a week or two.

This is the picture we sent out to family and friends. HAY Y'ALL, KNOW IT'S PAST MIDNIGHT BUT LOOKY HERE.

While this all seems so surreal (seriously, I am actually waiting to wake up on the "real" Saturday, April 27 morning and wonder about that crazy dream I had), I cannot stop smiling. I cannot stop staring at this beautiful ring Mr. Former Freddiefriend picked out for me. 

But mostly, I can't stop smiling because I'm thinking about all the dancing and singing Freddie and I will be doing for the rest of our lives. Life is just Moore fun when Freddie is part of it.

Now, excuse me, this was a lot of words and thoughts for me to put together. Time to work on my gibberish some more. 

We're getting married!!!!!

!!

!

some snail-y but not mail-y letters

I really enjoy getting snail mail. I don't mean the bills/student loan update kind of snail mail, I mean the handwritten letters. I would be a lot more receptive to FedLoan letters if someone would handwrite them. Come on, people, guess you're going in the Uh, dunno what to do about chu stack again.

What is second best to handwritten snail-y mail letters?

Letters here on the blog. 

Happy Friday Letters Day!

Every time I say 'letters' I now hear the rhyme 'bed wetters.' Get outta my head, Nanny Emily.

Dear Students, you worked so hard and I am so proud of your little Swan Lake and Cinderella dances. Have we really been together almost an entire school year? Shut the front door. Stop growing. Dear Other Students, you are going to rock the hizzouse (taking it bizzack) tomorrow during your Aladdin Jr. shows. I would jump over all of the bread lines just to come see y'all perform. Can't wait. Dear Avocados, if you weren't so good I wouldn't keep eating you. It's your own fault, really. Dear Ann, you cannot turn 18 in one week and graduate high school in 3 weeks. No, no, no. No. Now you can buy your own cigarettes! (haaaaa, it's a joke people. Laugh it up). Dear Freddiefran, Let's make a map where we cut out the miles between Chucktown and ATL and then glue it back together so they are right beside each other. I can't wait until I'm right beside yo smiling face for good. (Mmm, taste the sappiness. It's so sweet.) 

Young Ann, many moons ago. Pre-turning 18 and graduating and going to college and growing up.

can't write, won't write

My creativity to down to a -3 on a scale of 1-10 so instead of writing and rambling I am going to leave you with a repost.

Click HERE to read the best post of your life. 

meow.

Enjoy. It was kind of funny when I wrote it. 1.5ish years ago. When I was a young lass.

Now, give me some bloggy ideas and I will love you long time. 

never have i ever

This Travel Tuesday we're gonna take a bit of a different journey on this here blog. (please read that in a super Southern accent).

Because I am the worst and can't find any good pictures from any actual travels I've taken (surprise! I've never actually left Georgia) (surprise! that's a joke!), we are traveling back in time today.

Das right, we are traveling back to life of an undergrad. Which is exactly the journey Ruth, my college roommate, and I went on Friday night. This past weekend was Alumnae Weekend at Agnes Scott which basically really means Old Women Get Together to Drink and Sing Weekend. And when I say old, I am including myself because I felt. so. old.

Example #1 of Being Old

Dressing up to go to campus.
A) You (I) never wear (wore) real clothes in college. Especially not at Agnes. And double especially because I was a dance/education major and B) We had to go to campus. We didn't just walk outta the dorm room doors. Don't you just feel old reading this?

Example #2 of Hey, Wake up! You're No Longer College Aged!

You pre-game Alum Weekend events by going to wine and cheese functions. This means you do not pre-game in tiny dorm rooms with cheap alcohol. You class it up with the former Scotties and casually sip yo free wine.

Example #3 of You Sleep In a Big Girl Bed Now

You are no longer collectively known as a Scottie. You are known (and branded) as a member of the Class of such and such year.

Now, at Agnes we have Hub Sings. Hub Sings are too hard to explain to you other university goers, so let me explain with this video...

We drink. We crowd together. And we sing songs. Don't be jelly.

Go watch it again! And again! All Hail to the Alumnae and May They Get Rich!!! (Yes, pls).

After they took away the free wine from us alums, Ruth and I were like screw. this. Let's go be 19 again. Or 20. Or 21. Or 22 again, T. Swift knew what was up with that song. 22 was the life. (not really, boooring age). So off we went to sit on a futon in a dorm and eat Puppy Chow and watch a game called Buffalo that made no sense. And feel old. But...

Notice anything different about these pictures? That's right, we look like we are 18 and in college again, right?! Right?
No?
But, I mean, look at my wine pour in the third pic. I mean, really.

Moral of this post? Traveling back in time makes you (me) feel old, but you (I) can still have a lot of fun even if you're old and stuffy. College friends kind of make the best friends.

Like we spent the next day recovering wanting naps and eating a free funnel cake from Kate. Say funnel cake from Kate 5x while looking at this picture.

College, you were fun and all, but somehow being an alum is more fun.

story time

Everybody sitting criss-cross apple sauce and ready for story time?

Thought so. 

Yesterday in one of my younger ballet classes, a girl came in with a scowl. I don't mean a yo mama is mad at you kind of scowl, I mean a dirty 'ole how dare you wake me up from my nap scowl. The after school aid assured me that she was okay, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed after her nap. I tried to make class extra fun for her--I cheered on her petite jetes, I applauded when she did a passé and balanced, I even made sure to give her the special stamp first. My efforts were worthless. This girl was not happy and not interested in letting anyone think otherwise. 

I was impressed that she danced the whole class and maintained the scowl. There was no crying, no refusing to dance...just scowling. 

Then I thought, Wow, I bet I don't look half as cute when I spend my days scowling. (It was a really cute scowl, okay?)

Monday was such a Monday this week. All of the Monday cliches and prejudices ran true on this Monday and I was over. it. I was over everything. I was annoyed and unhappy and had my best scowl face on. 

But why was I unhappy? Because I can't control life? Because my bed is against a wall and there is only one side of my bed on which I can wake up? Because maybe things aren't going the way I think they should?

Dumb. 

Everything that happened in Boston on Monday kind of showed my scowling what was up. Here I was making myself miserable over little things when people were in trouble. People needed real help. People were hurt.

I am no poet, by any means. And I don't mean the rhyming poet because I am SO one of those. (But that's a story for a different day. Yay! Okay? See, rhymes rhymes rhymes). But Alexa wrote a wonderful post yesterday and basically put all of my feelings into words. And by my feelings, I mean the feelings that I can never write gracefully. Go read her post here. 

I am going to turn that frown/scowl upside down (more poet talk!) and end with some happy little schtuff over here. Put your smile on, everybody come on. 

I love do-overs and new days. And sunsets, of course.

I am thankful for my fam-damily and my Freddiefriend

I am grateful for all the good in the world. Because ya know what? Things are good. People are good. It's out there.

And blogging is good.

For the soul.

Over and out.

It's not friday

My friend Kate and I had planned a little weekend Chucktown trip since the Freds got his new job in Charleston. For 2 months, I have been having her train her stomach for the food explosion that is also known as Charleston. And oh muh gawd, she and her stomach powered through. I was the one trying to keep up.

Stomach, I am sorry. We will be eating only cleansing foods and drinking only water for the next several days weeks. Also, it's counter intuitive for a beach city to have such delicious food. How are we supposed to keep up with the bikini bods? So not happening. I'll pick truffle mac and cheese, goat cheese/sundried tomato burgers, chocolate chunk cookies, fresh artisan bread, and wine wine wine over  no-muffin-top bikini bod any day. 

Thanks for letting me try and justify the amount of grub with which I stuffed my face this weekend. YUM.

Alrighty, well instead of talky talky and typing up funny stories from the weekend you get a photo dump. You are welcome. Nobody wants to read my description of how fun singing rapping country music is as we drive along the beach. Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruuuuuuise... Just call me Nelly. Nel-mily? Maybe?

Side note: the actual camera with the precious, pretty pictures was left in C-ston so y'all get stuck with the celluar pics. FIGURES. One day, I promise, you'll see a real photo on this here blog. 

one- buckle up, it's the law. Or something like that.

two- Blog world, meet Freddie's eye. 

three- Pre-Jurrasic Park 3D shenanigans. a.k.a.- pre-Emily and Kate jumping into each other's lap. That movie... Stay away form me and my dreams, Velociraptors.

four- We attempted to get some color (other than pasty white) onto our bodies. Fail. But being on the beach was such a win. Thanks, warm weather.

five- This is what waiting too long for your beer looks like. Get the man his beer!

six- Tree canopy. 

seven- Just some couple under the tree canopy. 

eight- This is what eating the best gelato on King Street looks like, fyi. Delicious and beautiful.

nine- Em, Kate, and Liz. Just another Sunday together with the gang.

the anxious pants dance

Every one has their own story of why or how they got into blogging, what they write about through blogging, how they met friends through blogging, and how they are successful at blogging. Want me to try to use the word blogging again? There ya go, just did. 

Anyways, here is the run down. Blogging is no different than the first day at a new school. Or at a new job. Or in a new town where you know no one. Blogging is all about putting yourself out there, hoping people are like Hey, this person is putting puh-retty cool stuff out there, and then wam bam you become best blogging friends and everyone loves your blog. Or somehow or another to that effect. 

Let's talk about the socially awkward folks, though. Hi, socially awkward folks anonymous, my name is Emily and I suffer from the anxious pants dance.

What's the anxious pants dance? It's when you play with your nails, or bite your nails, or do a few hair flips, and shuffle to one side to avoid having to make small talk with someone that (gasp!) you don't know. I am the worst at meeting new people. College was like whoa, everyone was all giggly and like ohmagawd we're so grown up now. And all I wanted to do was crack jokes about having to say Man on the hall! every time we had a visitor in the dorms.

Seriously though, an all women's college is the best. But that's a post for another day. 

Most of the time it just comes across that I'm unfriendly. OOPSIES. Big oops. Woe is me, all shy and such. Life is hard. Yadda yadda yadda.

A little throwback to 5 years ago. Don't mess with us college sophomores, rawr. 

When I first started blogging, I just stalked blogs. I never commented because what would I say?! What if they didn't get something I said was supposed to be a joke? Or what if I sounded like this person that I so am not? So, instead I was just a blog creeper. Creeping on blogs day after day. Don't mind me. I don't remember when I started commenting and meeting people through blogging, or why I did, but it kind of felt like the day in school when you finally meet that one friend that you're like phew, don't have to pretend that I like playing basketball in PE around her. Or phew, I can laugh at a fart joke around her. Etc., etc. 

Sounds like the comfort zone needs to get a tad bigger because this blogger isn't just a creeper no mo'.  Some of the time...

Ah! Stranger Danger!

Anyone else fluent in unfriendliness dancing with their anxious pants on?

it's a wednesday

It's a Wednesday. And you know what that means... it means that somehow we made it halfway through the week and we're gonna somehow make it to the end of the week. Yeah week, take that. We're almost done wit chu. 

It also means that it's about time for Round 1346 of pointless blog posting. Anybody got some genius ideas of fun, exciting, and funny topics about which to write?! Because Imma need you to share those award worthy ideas with me. 

Side note: I can't do recipe posts because I think you all know how to make a peanut butter sandwich, hold the jelly. Over and out. 

Some days you just want to sit down and type type type and let those feeling schmeelings out and today is one of those days. Let the typing begin! 

Remember how I said this week was my spring break? Well, here we are on Wednesday morning and I feel like my spring break is officially starting. Woo, that means bringing out the vino! It's about to get crazy up in this house! Actually it means me sitting on my b-o-o-t-y and loving every second of it (don't worry, I'll totally be bored of doing nothing by tomorrow. Wink wink). Strike that, I am about to go take a Booty Barre class (?!) and my booty could not be more excited. I bet the barre is pretty excited to see me, too.

You see, spring break couldn't really start until those kiddos up there shone on stage last night. Every Tuesday evening I teach a 2 hour musical theater class in the Nan. The Nan = Newnan which means it is not in Atlanta which means it is my only class of the week that doesn't involve sitting in copious amounts of traffic to and from teaching. 

Let me just brag for a hot minute or two. Or three. Each session of this class runs 6 weeks. This session we focused on the music of Stephen Schwartz which, surprise surprise, entails a whole lot more than just Wicked. Who would have thunk it?! Can you guess all the characters up there?

Oh hey, cheat sheet.

Back to bragging, this session the vocal coach and I decided to write a medley. Each kid picked a character/song from a Stephen Schwartz work and we combined the songs into a little dancing/singing/acting performance. It was a crazy idea 6 weeks ago and it felt crazy up until the 6 seconds before they performed tonight. Between sickness, spring breaks, and more sickness, we had all of the students there for only ONE class. One. And last time I checked I wasn't Mary Poppins and my room didn't magically clean itself. A.K.A my dances didn't magically get choreographed. 

These kids should be on Broadway Jr. Is that a thing? I just made it a thing. We finished blocking and choreographing in the hour before the show (Heeey, Last Minute Lucy, so not nice to meet you), and they took the stage much like This ain't no thang. We learn choreography right before a show everyday. Give me something that's actually hard to do.

So, sigh. of. relief. Moral of the story?

Kids are great, even when you think they're giving you stress ulcers. Also, even when they complain. Because they somehow pull things together and are great.

Second moral?

Don't write dance-y blogs because 99.9% of the readers (hey, Dad!) are not dance-y people. Hope I didn't lose anyone up there around the second of third time I menioned the word dance or theater or you know, stuff.

deep thoughts, by emily

I'm sitting here listening to Ray La and writing this post on a Sunday night. Crazy, this writing posts in advance thing. Freddiefriend just left after a last minute trip to ATL this weekend. It's so strange to go from seeing someone pretty much everyday to only the occasional weekend. I snatch up these weekends like a baby going in for the candy. And I'm sure I act like a baby would act after having that candy slash Fredster taken away from it. These minutes or hours after I leave or Freddie leaves at the end of our weekend trips are the strangest. Getting back into the not so normal routine of seeing that person's cute 'ole face and sexay legs only in Instagram pics instead of all that face to face goody good time we used to get. This past week, after eating granola bars and fruit snacks as dinner for the second or thirdish night in a row (I swear I am six years old, not just five), I gave in to the long distance. Fine, long distance, you win. You win and I eat stupidly because Freddie is the creative chef man who makes the best breakfast, lunch, and dinners. 

Freddiefriend the sushi chef. 

I stay busy and work a lot so I don't sit around thinking about how much I miss Freddie (except I still find time during the crazy long days to think about that). Instead I write little blogs about this time in life where there is so much uncertainty and I am living in the unknown. 

Dun dun dun. The vast and scary unknown. Inhabitants: me. And most of the world... Really, who has it all figured out?

I mean, you know I am living in Atlanta, but in Atlanta my world is a bunch of unknownsies. Like puzzle pieces that need to be put together, but it's a bit unknown how to piece them together at the moment. Butchaknowwut? They're gonna fit together eventually. At least, that is what I tell myself when I start to get anxious and stressed and my worry ulcer pangs are like Heeey girl, we want you to worry about life today. How do ya feel about that?

Just getting freckled and sunny with the Braves this past weekend. Freddie Freeman plus Freddiefriend plus bad close ups. Enjoy.

Thank the Lawd that I even get to see FF on these short weekend trips and props to the strong men and women who do long distance for months on end without seeing each other's precious faces and hugging those bods so tight that the backs crack 6 or 7 times. Those hugs are my fav. 

So long distance, you win. For now, I'll take these fun little weekends and the times when they end and you wonder why saying 'I love you' just doesn't feel like enough sometimes, ya know? Anyone, anyone? Or is that only emolicious Emily who feels the need to express lovey dovey emotions?

You know? I know something that you don't know.

That this post was originally titled, "yolo: spring break edition."  

And now I know y'all are going You are such a downer, Emily! What does this have anything to do with spring break?! I didn't mention tanning, sleeping in, or consuming alcohol once!! You're welcome for changing the name. 

You're also welcome for the Emily edition of: Deep Thoughts.

Now go do something fun on this Monday because it is really my spring break from teaching and that means erry body should have some fun. 

and p.s.--this weekend was the definition of beautiful. Warm weather, you are my best friend. Never leave me.

a little list

I love lists. I love making them, I love scratching things off of them, I love completing them, and I love making more of them. Just love 'em. 

Obviously, the Reminder app is my fav app. And no, that doesn't make me a loser, it makes me a cool loser. Get it right.

My friend pointed out that it should read, "Wine!! and chips." Duly noted. 

Sometimes the only thing better than making lists and reminders on the Reminder app is making a list in a blog post!

Genius, I tell you. What is a blog for if not to write about all the ridiculous things you always dreamed about writing?! Like lists. Yes, you came here today to read a list of mine. And yes, you''ll probably love it so much that List-it Thursday will be the new Throwback Thursday. 

No? 

one- I can't get enough of where Fredster lives in Charleston. I want to bring my bike and hang out with these views every day. There's a place called Alhambra Hall (but really we call it Alejandro Hall or Alakazam Hall or anything other than Alhambra because that's boooring) down the street from his house and the view is uh-mazing. Thanks for the pics, Freddiefriend. My jealousy is overwhelming. Sometimes I want to reply with a picture of my view of the local Marta line and stop, but I don't want to make him that jealous. Just tryin' to be nice and all. 

two- Bill Cosby knew what was up when he started Kids Say the Darndest Things. I think I am going to start carrying a little notebook around with me just so I can write down and remember little things my students tell me. Today as one girl left class during plies to go potty she said, Miss Emily, please don't let those girls swipe my spot. I'm not sure where a three year old learned the terminology "swipe" or how to apply it in a sentence during plies, but I hope she says it on a daily basis.
p.s.--I'm famous in the small ballet studio community of Atlanta! A.k.a.--10 people. The latest summer brochure featured yours truly with my favorite eight year old students.

three- Tuesday night I saw Mary Poppins at the Fox Theatre. Two important things here: 1- I could watching ants crawl in the Fox Theatre and still be enthralled. That theater is the BEST. and 2- Mary Poppins is the best. show. for all ages. And all people. Everywhere. Who doesn't want to see Bert tap dance upside down across the ceiling of theater or watch Mary fly off through the audience?! I saw it on Broadway two years ago and still I sat like a little kid hyped up on Disney and all things sugar in my seat last night. Also, Robbie and I may or may not be singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious for the next bajillion years. S-u-p-e-r...

And there ya have it, List-it Thursday. Short and sweet. Just like this week has felt.
The end. 

on monday being part of the weekend

Yes, it is Monday and yes, it is still my weekend. No, this is not an April Fool's Joke. I happened to get that lucky when it came to spring time holidays. 

So even though my weekend really isn't over until tonight, I'll still join the bandwagon and link up to update y'all on my weekend shenanigans, minus the party times that I just may get into today. I know, I know, so nice and not rub-by in of me.

This weekend started off with a drive to Charleston. It's the kind of drive that feels liberating and exciting because you know your destination is b-e-a-utiful. (a.k.a.--Freds is there, dawww). It's the drive back to Atlanta that is less than fun. But worry not, let's focus on these purdy phone pictures instead.

one- My sister gave us her hand-me-down camera which is still a wonderfully nice camera. Freddie went and took sunset/beachy/pretty pictures a few weeks ago and hello, stealing and sharing this one.

two- As soon as I had parked my car in Freddie's driveway we were off walking down to the Pitt St. bridge which has an uh-mazing few of Charleston in the distance. Come to C-ston and go. This is a view of the Cooper River bridge on our walk.

three- walky, walky, walking

four- Accidental matchsies outfits, minus Freddie having no floral print on his pants. Fashion. Less. 

five- Pitt St. bridge. I know, you're probably as jealous as I am that Freddie lives within walking distance of this thang. 

six- Easter dinner. Two noteworthy aspects of this picture: 1- drinking wine from a South Carolina cup. Classy and fabulous. 2- Truffle Mushroom Risotto. I think we just started 2 new Easter traditions.

seven- Emily, Freddie, a blanket, and the wind. Cue Colors of the Wind background music. 

eight- More scenery/make you jealous pictures. 

nine- We came to watch the Easter sunset but the Easter bunny clouds had another idea. Joke's on you, clouds, because it was still pretty.

Happy Monday! 

Sorry I had no wonderfully schemed April Fool's Day Joke.

Leave all of your ideas below.