it's my favorite!

Oh hey, end of June. Way to speed by without stopping. Rude. 

Did anyone else feel like June was rude and flew by? Because how is it almost July?!

But then again, June, you are pretty nice because you are speeding by in order for my birthday month to come on in so THANKS.

Well well well...end of a month means time for some favs! Like oh em gee, are you ready? (My autocorrect changed favs to fab. So, needless to say, my favs are going to be pretty fab). 

We're doing the fab favs today in a 2 much fun way of showcasing 2sies thing. Make 2 much sense?

2

I taught 2 ballet camps this month. This meant things like a) I came home with glitter all over my tights most days b) I said pile, passe, and don't run! more than I said "real" words and c) I got to met the real Rapunzel. The real one! And she told us all about why her hair was back to the long blonde hair and why she wore shoes and all that good stuff I really needed to know. 

2

I went to Disney 2 times this month. Talk about too 2 much fun, I had it. I ate lots of food on my I'm-going-to-eat-whatever-I-want-before-this-wedding diet. Yum and yum, I could live in Epcot and eat and drink at every country every week. In fact, I'm wondering why Epcot doesn't offer some sort of housing...? Anyways. Disney = fun; therefore June = fun. 

Cheers to Let's never leave!

2

June is pretty cool (I guess...) because as of June 25 I am 2 months away from becoming a Weiss. Holy Name Change, Batman! It feels so weird to type out my soon-to-be name. I can only imagine how weird it will be to sign it. I mean, autograph it. Duh, who merely signs things anymore? It's all about being celebrities and autographing. Anyways, enjoy a Cheesy McCheese picture. 2 cute.

Baby Freddiefriend and Emily. 

What were your fab favs from June? Other than seeing fab Freds in the above picture, of course. 

on freckling

Freckling. Is that a real word? It should be. Some people go tanning and some go freckling. Or is it some people get sunburned and some people get freckled? Shucks, I just don't know. All I do know is that I have freckles. I am freckled. I go freckling. Freckles and me? We're close.

Badda bing. 

Every summer since the beginning of time (a.k.a. 1989), I have gotten terribly sunburned. Mostly, it can be blamed on my horrible knowledge of applying sunscreen. Like, I am sunscreen impaired. I swear I put it on, but then my skin swears I didn't and we just don't get along, me and Mr. Sun. 

 I think the best (?worst?) sunburn of my life would tie between two very special sunburns. Is it weird that me and my sunburns have some sort of relationship? It's more of a painful, abusive-ship, but these sunburns are like eras. The Era of Emily's Hand Print on Face Burn. Or these two eras...

The Era of Emily's Third Nipple.

Yep, that's right. I had a third nipple one summer. No, I was not born with it. No, I did not magically grow it. The sun gave it to me. Kind of like an early birthday present, one could say.   

This picture may be a little too risqué for blogland. I mean, look at my hand pulling down my shirt. Gasp, the horror!

But alas my best, and baby, I mean best sunburn ever was March 2011, 

The Era of Two Toned Emily. 

I managed to get burned on the right side of my body. Like straight like down my body all the way down to my feet. 

That's 6 inches out of a 59 inch burn. I passed out at the Mexican restaurant where I ate dinner that night. Who's that crazy two toned chick lying on the table?! Oh wait...that's me. If the margs don't getcha at dinner, it'll be the sunburn. Or something like that. 

So there you have it, two big reasons why I don't "tan." Not only do I not tan, I freckle/burn and skin cancer is just not worth it. 

Way to get on a soapbox, sheeeesh.

Also, this post was supposed to be about freckles and how my face is covered in them and the funny things my 3 yr old students say about freckles. Oops. <<<that post, coming to a blog near you soon!

Can you tell I'm running out of post ideas? Never!

disney or bust or something

Blogging is tres hard when you are partying it up at Disney, by the dubs or btway or btdubs. Take your pick. 

Last time I was at Disney (a whopping 3 weeks ago), I was here with my ballet besties being annoying fun and drinking dancing throughout Epcot. This time I'm here for business, people. Serious business! We had to trade cars with my brother and what better way to trade cars with your brother than to trade cars and then spend 2 days at Disney? Hint hint, there isn't a better way. 

You know, I was supposed to be in Charleston this week. Helping Freddiefriend pack so we could move into our new condo (right by da beaaaach) this weekend, but plans change and last minute work trips come up and moving and packing is totally possible in one day, right? Can you tell I'm a little bitter about said work trip that changed our packing/moving/seeing FF plans? Because I'm not. Just not at all. One day, down the married road, we'll look back on this long distance/not seeing each other madness and just chuckle and say things like, Sugar darlin', remember when we thought the world was over when we couldn't be around each other for those 6 short months? Chuckle chuckle. In my mind, that is said with thick Southern accents even though neither of us have thick Southern accents, but please read it that way and you'll enjoy it more. Chuckle chuckle. 

The point is, what better way to get over a grump-butt-plans-have-changed attitude than to jump on a Disney trip with the family? Hint hint, there isn't a better way. 

Well, sugar darlins, it's time for Epcaht. So here are some pictures, s'il vous plait et merci. 

 Is the wedding nearly as exciting as people getting the invitations and sending the RSVP cards? Because it's all a blast and I can hardly stand it. !

And these pictures sum up Day 1 of Disney. We like Mario things at Downtown Disney, I don't like Everest, and we like cheers-ing and smiling at dinner. The end.

epiphanies

You know when you get an epiphany? Like a mind blowing, brain boggling, oh duh kind of moment?

I had one today when I realized that...

I am the worst blogger ever. Mind blown, I tell ya! In fact, I don't even think you can call it blogging. I never post. Never! Except those one or two times. Even now I bet you think I'm posting and blogging, but really I'm just writing about randomness that is so randomly random and you're reading it anyways. Psych! Or sike. Whichever you prefer. 

Anyways, I'm sure I've written a post very similar to this before where I'm like wah wah excuses excuses worst ever because that's what we bad bloggers do. We don't blog, but when we do we write about why we don't.

Following? No, I'm not either so let's move on. 

Want to know things I've been thinking about recently? Oh goodie, I thought so. 

 Wedding reception songs.

What in the what are you even supposed to play?! Sappy songs, slow songs, fun songs, fast songs, sing-along songs, bad songs. I'm all about the bad songs. Celine Dion is mah gurl after all. I've made a list of about 1.5 hours worth of jams so I hope the guests don't mind singing to themselves the remaining 2 hours. 

Songs galore. Not galore enough yet, though.

And while I'm on that subject, why in the world are all the Father/Daughter dance suggestions the absolute worst. They will either a) leave me to roll my eyes the whole song or 2) leave my dad in a completely horrible mess of tears. But, don't worry, I managed to choose one that is delightful. And my dad will be in a mess of tears anyways because that's Russell for ya. Story time! One time when I was 13 he came to my end of ballet summer camp performance. At the very end of a song, I was lifted up by the group and the spotlight faded down over me in the air. Brought my dad to t-e-a-r-s. Oh lawdy, that man...this whole wedding day will be interesting. 

Anyways, Happy Thursday. Sorry I rarely blog. Glad you rarely always read. 

Kisses and Hugs and Stuff.

the time zac brown was not a zombie

This weekend was exactly what a summer weekend should be. Movies, drinks outside late at night, live music, more drinks outside, celebrating birthdays and Daddy days, and drinking some more late at night.

Friday ended with a movie at the Fox Theatre, which for you non-Atlanta folks, is awesome. I tried to think of a more profound way to describe the Fox, but it's just downright awesome. Period. Look.

Awesome.

Then we went out for steak and wine at 10 pm because well, why not? It just seemed fitting for a late night eat.

Awesome, again.

Saturday, oh Saturday was a good day. It started with me picking up WEDDING dress. My wedding dress that used to have mud and a big hole in it is now beautiful and shiny and oooh! just picture it in your head since I can't post a picture on here--bad luck or stuff. But when you're picturing it, be sure to picture it with mud and holes and then picture it perfect and clean and sparkly because we've got to be accurate around here, okay? Plus it makes it even more exciting when you see it so pretty after being so dog chewy.

Anyways...
Saturday ended with music and grub in Senoia, Georgia. Say it out loud people, See-noia. Not, See-noi-uh. Senoia is a small little town near the Nan where Walking Dead is filmed and lemme tell ya, they are mighty proud of that. Zac Brown put on a free concert and instead of the usual butterflies and pirates face painting there was zombie face painting. Because what else would you paint on yer face in the town where the Walkers are from?!

Mr. Brown, why you no paint your face like a zombie?

And Sunday ended with celebrating two important people. 1) Russ Moore, the father and 2) Mary Caroline, the birthday queen.

 My dad turned into a balloon head yesterday. We're very sad about it.

And MC turned 50 this past week, but really it looks like she turned 25 or 35 or something. Hawt mama, right there.

And then, just like that, it was Monday.
Yay.

A Wah-nderful Wedding Wednesday

Today is Wedding Wednesday. Yes, that's right. Wednesday is no longer the name of a day of the week now that I am planning a wedding. Get with it.

 I don't really know what to say this Wedding Wednesday so I added the Wah because that's the noise I want to make sometimes. Like when I am addressing invitations and spell Orlando, ORLADNO. Hey, crazy train, stop over here!!! I developed dyslexia very late in life, apparently. Go me.

 Anyone wanna do a spell check for me?!

Or when my mom and I realized that I forgot to add a name line on the RSVP cards. 

HAHAHA. I still laugh thinking about all the RSVP cards with no names we are going to get.

...And by laugh, I mean cry. 

My little wah voice is turning to an excited ahh! because my once chewed by dogs dress will be fixed up and all shiny by next week. Eeeee!! The dogs cannot wait to have their fav chew toy back. I mean...I can't wait to have my wedding dress ready. Man, it's so confusing. Is it my dress or their toy?! La te da, don't care because I'm hiding it in a dog proof vault until August 24. 

But alas, no one wants to hear all the things I have done wrong while planning. Or all the things the dogs have done wrong in this process, sheesh pups. Instead I will leave you with some Pinterest lovin'--all things that I want to steal from Pinterest, but about which I am having a hard time making my mind. Do I want this or that? This guest book or that guest book?! These burlap bows or those lattice frames? These are the times when I get bridezilla-y and ask my best friend why she hasn't quit her job to live in Atlanta with me to help me plan this wedding. I mean, come on! Work or help Emily do wedding work? 

Until then and until the Wedding Wednesday post that will include real things I've been doing, enjoy. 

Freddie said we should put, "We've decided on 30 years" just to throw everyone off. Funny man?

So, who is coming over to help plan and craft and do all of these things?! Okay, I think I counted about 50 hands in the air, THANKS. 

you say mosquito, i say annoying

There are several signs that you have turned into one of those kind of engaged people. The ones who are just so...engaged. Know what I'm saying?

Good. Like the girl who secretly has to have her ring showcased somehow in every picture. Guilty. Or the girl who only talks wedding talk to everyone and drives them crazy. Guilty. And to put the juiciest cherry on top, since we're becoming one and yadda yadda all that it's only obvious that the pronoun to use is we. We do this and we do that. We buy this and we go here. Our food. Our home. Our MacBook Pro (this one worked out on Freddie's favor, huh?). 

Going along with this theme, we recently bought a dining table for ourselves. 

Have you ever seen a prettier unfinished strange cloud-colored dining room table? Didn't think so. 

Hello, first new home project: sanding, staining, and loving this new table. 

Side note: it also came with 2 leaves meaning big 'ole dinner party up in HUR! Good thing Freddie is a Master Chef and stuff. 

Anyways, this project. We (Freddie) have been sanding it down, which is no easy feat since there is this paint and then stain underneath that. We (Freddie) have been working on sanding it now for almost 2 weeks. When I came into town this past weekend Frederick put me to work and we did some sanding together even though it was more fun when we (Freddie) were doing it. 

Me sanding called for a lesson in sand paper. Who would have thunk it that sand paper is numbered? Goodness, I'm halfway to being a carpenter after this weekend.

The moral of this story?

MOSQUITOS SUCK.

How did I go from talking about being an obnoxious engaged girl, to using the pronoun we, to sanding a dining room table, to mosquitos?

I'll tell you. While sanding this bad boy outside, I noticed some 'skiters but in my I'll Be Fine This Time mentality,  I didn't go put on bug spray. Or tie a dryer sheet to my shorts. Or any of the obvious things you do when you live in the South and there are bugs everywhere and you taste as delicious as I do (<<<I mean, obviously. I'm just stating the facts. The bugs have seemed to like it for the past 24 years). 

My I'll Be Fine This Time mentality works out really well with sunscreen, too. Just ask my Sunburned x100 body. 

I thought I had escaped. I thought that this one time in my life, being outside this time of year, that I survived with no bites. No welts. No red marks. No itchy witchies. 

This is the point in the post where I would put a pic of my eaten alive legs, but since nobody want to see that crap, enjoy this picture of the homemade cannoli I ate after the mosquito incident. 

Then I remember that I am the funniest person in the world. I will never be fine this one time because there will never be this one time when I don't need bug spray. Or sunscreen. Ain't ever gonna happen, Emily Caroline, so snap outta it. 

I didn't realize the damage until I was wearing my ballet tights while teaching all morning and suddenly I couldn't scratch my legs. And suddenly that was a huge problem because suddenly my legs were very very itchy. Here I am 24 hours later and 24 or 10 bug bites later. 

I'm sorry that I wrote that entire post about only 10 mosquito bites. 

My legs just really itch. 

And I look like I have the legs of a 6 year old Redneck named Emma-leigh who spends her days outdoors in the overgrown grass. 

summertime and the living is lazy

I was going to make some hi-larious joke about how I've been playing blogger hide and seek and no one has found me and that's why I haven't posted in 10 years (or 4 days, blogger time is very different than real time). But then I realized that that joke isn't funny and I'm not funny. I'm just lazy and trying to get adjusted to my summer teaching schedule.

My summer job includes days like this, btdubs:

The second Rapunzel walked in the door this was all I heard the girls asking:

Why isn't your hair glowing?!

Why aren't you wearing your short brown hair?! That's how you left it in the movie!!!!

You are wearing shoes. You never wear shoes, silly!

Who braided your hair?! 

Why do you have lipstick on?

Where's Flynn Rider? And Maximus? 

I'm glad you didn't bring that mean 'ole Mother Gothel. We only like nice people.

Phew. And those were asked all in a span on 5 seconds so you can imagine how the entire hour was.

Have you ever realized that nothing gets past little kids? Like nothing at all. They noticed she had on shoes when her dress went to the floor and covered her feet (when did kids start being born with X-ray vision?!) The day after I got engaged, they noticed Miss Emily had on a sparkly ring. Ooooh, kiddos. You're a funny bunch that is too fun. 

Let's see...what else can we talky talk about?

Let's talk about the way Freddie and I video chat about wedding stuff. Can't say I hate it.

Freddie, we must have circus food at the reception.

But whyyyy, Emily?!

Holy Long Day, this is why I shouldn't write blogs the night before I post them. Because I leave you all in a daze of What. In. The World.

So, enjoy being in that daze and give me blog post ideas to save us all.

Happy Friday! 

dancin' queens

Ballet. It's funny how one word, just six letters, can mean so much to me. 

A.k.a.- this word kind of makes up my life. 

In a way, it also describes my weekend shenanis. So, let's review. 

Short background: I grew up intensively studying ballet. We are talking 6 days a week, too many hours to count, homeschooled so I could be in the studio. Cra to the zy. My summers were spent studying in big cities all up and down the east coast. The end. 

During my hardcore ballet years (man, I sound cool) (not), I made some of the best friends ever. I mean let's see, you spend more time around each other than your own families AND you're half nekkid (hello, leotard and tights, you cover up nothing). You get to know each other really well and really fast.  It's no wonder that my dancin' fool friends make up the majority of my bridal party. 

As luck would have it, a couple of my biffle besties were in Orlando when I went down spontaneously last week. Which meant Bridal Party Party: Part 1 out of 2000. BOO YAH! 

But then, oh but then, the stars really aligned and something magical happened (I swear, after this past weekend, I believe Disney is really magical). Our beloved ballet teacher, the woman who was like a mother to all of us and taught us SAT words while we danced, was able to meet us for the weekend. Eeeeeee, Maggie!!! Are you squealing too?! It was a family reunion in a major way. A major dance nerdy fam damily way. One, two, three, plie!
Digging my corny ballet jokes yet?

I know you're all like double-yew-tee-eff is this girl eeeeeee-ing and weeee-ing about?!

Well, lemme show you. 

We were those people everywhere we went. Ya know? The loud ones. The ones taking the seemingly stupid (but really awesome) pictures. The ones cracking inside jokes in front of people who could have cared less. And boy oh BOY, I loved being those kind of people for a few days. 

And then we got yummy drinks and celebrated being together and over age 21 and not 16 and not in high school. Which means we celebrated being old.

More shenanis. Your jealousy is now growing.


At one point this weekend my mom said it felt like we had rewound 9 years. That's how you know you have the best of the best kind of friends--when you can instantly fall back into your friendly routine, even after years of being on opposite sides of the country (or the world in Miss Brittany I Travel With Disney's case). Girlfrans, I cannot WAIT until August when everyone is reunited. This weekend was just a small taste and what is to come and honey child, I am loving it. Gimme more.