July 31, 2013

july, you mighty fine

In each of these Favorite Things posts I usually make some comment about how quickly the month went by and Can you believe it?! Insert that comment here. Then I make some clever (clever, in my mind) play on words about something Favorite Thing-y/Sound of Music-y. Insert Julie Andrews singing here.

July brought lots of things. Like my birthday, my brother visiting, the end of my teaching in Atlanta era, and (drumroll, please) some new bloggity followers.

Whoa, now, don't go judging my lil follower numba over there. Okay, there are some new ones. Promise.

Thing is...thing is...since you are all my favorites that means I am going to blog about why my blog should be your favorite, obviously.

I'm batting my eyelashes so hard over here.

a.k.a.- 3 reasons to read this here blog--at least once a month or so. Or twice a month! Gettin' crazy.
1- I'm a movie star.
There's me on the right and there's the star of the Footloose remake that no one knows. Whoa there, I tried not to steal the spotlight but I mean, wow, I walked down those high school hallways so well. Since no one knows either of us that means we're both on the same level and we're both famous, right? Right. I mean, in my mind, me and Kenny Something are Oscar worthy actors. Diva status. 

2- I'm a fashion blogger. 
Okay, that's an outright lie. That was supposed to read: I am a teensy bit incredibly jealous of any beautiful stylish fashion blogger. 
You see, I am a performer slash ballet teacher. I wear little clothing. And when using the word little I don't mean it like skimpy. I mean it like are leotard and tights even considered clothing?? As apparent in the picture above, I also wear fruit on my head sometimes and that is definitely not clothing. I know dancewear brand names better than uh...what's a popular clothing brand name? 
jay kay. Mostly.

3- I'm marrying someone who can cook.
Read: Maybe one day this blog will have cool recipes created by my househusband.
Freddie loves to cook and I love to eat. He works hard in the kitchen and I work hard taking pictures of what he creates. See how well this relationship works? I better stop giving you all of these relationship secrets! Silly me. Freddiefriendfiance needs to be called Chef Freddiefriendfiance (because that's not a mouthful, at all). 
Let's recap: 
I was the star the best extra in the new Footloose movie. I wear the crap outta leotard and tights. I eat a lot, but can't cook worth a flip.

There ya have it, some new things about me and this blog..whether it is your favorite blog or not...;)

July 29, 2013

moving forward

Some people say one of the most comforting things about death is that, in the midst of the hurt and pain, life goes on. You get new beginning and new days. To me, that is one of the hardest parts of death. It isn't always easy for me to comprehend just how life can go on sometimes, but guess what? It really really does. This weekend was extremely hard as we buried and remembered my sweet Granddaddy and ya know, I don't really want to make this blog all about that.

So, let's move on and talk about some other weekend shenanigans that are in fact, shenany. Think we can get shenany to happen?
Fetch didn't happen, but shenany will.

Going through old pictures is one of my favorite things to do. Hey Emily, want to go out tonight? No thanks, I'd rather stay in and look at these gems. Hey, sometimes old pics are just what you need. My family and I looked through lots of old pictures this weekend. One little beauty we found?
My uncle holding me and my cousin, who were both thrilled to be in his arms.
Oh what? You don't find old family pictures as fun as I do?!

It is almost August which means it is almost wedding time which means it is wedding crunch time right now. Nothing was a better pick me up after this weekend than coming home to a package with some maid of honor and bridesmaid dresses.
Here is a preview. Hint: this isn't my brother's dress. Don't worry, his dress for the wedding will be a different color.

Okay okay, you got me! He's wearing a suit.
Who doesn't like a terrible attempt at a joke on a Monday morning?!

Hope you're all smiling big on this fine Monday morning. Even if your smile isn't because of that joke up there.

Sami's Shenanigans

July 24, 2013

the legend himself

He's like a cat, I'd always say. Speaking of my grandfather, of course. You know cats and 9 lives and stuff. That was Granddaddy: the 9+++ life wonder. From congenital heart failure, to weak knees, to pace maker problems, to pneumonia, this was a man who was no stranger to the adventure of growing old. 
The Moore gang celebrating Granddaddy's 90 years last summer.

But that's just it, he wasn't old. I mean, sure his 91st birthday is 5 days away and he had all the pains associated with an older body. My key word in that there sentence? Body. His body might have appeared to be old, but his mind was as young as ever. Granddaddy would always claim to be senile which was about as laughable as saying I'm athletic. Sure, he would forget the usual things like Where are those keys? What'd I eat for lunch? or I thought I left the remote there... And sure, I can dance and pirouette circles around any Tom, Dick, Or Jane, but playing sports just ain't ever gonna happen. And Granddaddy forgetting life stories or current events or any information about family? Not happenin'.

That's what happens when you're a reporter, apparently. Your mind stays sharp as a tack. Yes, I did just give you the secret to staying young! Tomorrow there will suddenly be an outrageous number of new reporting/journalist prospects all because Emily said your mind never leaves you, even when you're 90. It may not be true for every reporter, but it was true for Ray Moore. 

Ray Moore. A first name and a really fun last name. Moore fun! Together, these two names mean so much to a world of journalism, a world of reporting, a world of history, a world of progression. Ray Moore, the legend. Ray Moore, the man who interviewed Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr, and Robert Frost. Ray Moore, the man who hired Tom Brokaw. Ray Moore, the man who genuinely cared for everyone. 
You can read more about his broadcasting endeavors here. The ABC affiliate in Atlanta did a sweet, sweet tribute to him on their 5 o'clock news last night. 

But Ray Moore was/is Granddaddy to me. Granddaddy, the man who sent me an email after reading each post of my blog (seriously, number one blog fan right there). Granddaddy, the man who took me to Disney World for the first time. Granddaddy, the man who would always eat chocolate with me after any and every meal. Granddaddy, the man who used to play wedding with me when I was a kid. 
Rather fitting since today marks one month until my real wedding.

Always signed emails with "I love you." 

Last week Granddaddy fell and his head met the wall on the way down. Mind you, Granddaddy and falling have a love/hate relationship. Granddaddy would fall every now and then and hated it, but he was lucky enough to never break any bones. That equals the love part, maybe? He never suffered anything more than a cut or bruise. So when he appeared to be a-okay after this fall, no one thought twice about it. Long story short, the fall caused a detrimental brain bleed which didn't manifest until over 24 hours later. One of the last comments Granddaddy made before he became unresponsive was about how excited he was that 2 of his granddaughters had weddings coming up. He passed away early yesterday morning after a day full of the Moore's taking over his bedside with laughs, tears, and all the good stories. 

Granddaddy, Claire Marie and I will do our darndest to give you the most wonderful two weddings you ever did see. Good thing you'll have the best seat in the house. 

I love you.

July 19, 2013

i knew you were truffle when you walked in

I was born and raised in the same city: Newnan, Georgia. Or the Nan as I like to call it. The Nan is small (ish) and I could take you on a hot lil tour if you were ever to come visit. There's College St. with all its Antebellum homes. There's Historic Downtown Newnan with the most beautiful, sparkling, precious court house you ever did see. You would eat at the Redneck Gourmet (yes, yum) or family owned and operated Sprayberry's Barbecue. 

I moved a whopping hour away when I went to college in the big, bad city--a.k.a. Atlanta. Yes, it is big and bad and no, it is not like the movie ATL. Newnan is home. Atlanta is home. Georgia is home. I know the short cuts, the back roads, the parks, the shops, the restaurants, and lawdy do I know the traffic. Emily + Traffic became besties over the past 2 years of working in the city. 

Pretty soon, the usual "home" won't be home no mo'! Charleston will be home. Mt. Pleasant will be home. South Carolina will be home. Freddie will be home. I've I mean, we've (remember, I have a new pronoun now... wink wink, nudge nudge, yadda yadda) spent the last 5 or so months getting acquainted with this new home. 

Okay, let me rephrase that, we've spent the last 5 or so months getting acquainted with the new food. And restaurants. And all the good stuff. I can see it now, all of your glazed over we don't care, Emily facial expression have slowly vanished because y'all want to know the deets with food and alcohol? Your command is my request.

My brother met me in Charleston last weekend for a fun filled birthday weekend. What could possibly be more exciting than birthday-ing it up with my brother?! Um, how about birthday-ing it up in a new town that we got to show off to my brother! Party times. Okay okay, wait! Don't let your eyes glaze over again! Not yet anyways...
May I present to you...

Freddie and Emily's Guide to a Weekend Trip in Mt. Pleasant/Charleston/Heaven on Earth/Any Other Cool Name You Can Think Of

Should you ever come to visit, and by should I mean when you come to visit, this is a similar scenario to what will happen.

You arrive and within 5 minutes (10 if you insist on coming into the apartment before leaving) we hit up Coleman's Public House. Are you like, boooooring name? Not interested? Well, shut up because it really should have been named Everyday I'm Trufflin' or something way cute like that (so cute!) because when you eat here, you die and go to truffle heaven and then stay there forever never wanting to come back here. Seriously though, Freddie and I would pitch up a freaking tent and live in Coleman's parking lot if it meant Truffle Mac and Cheese for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yum, yum and yum! Do I need to say that again? Truffle. Mac and. Cheese. Yes, please, and thank you. 

Next stop is Tabbuli for some hookah and more hookah on their bigger than big patio by the water. If you want to feel hip and not old with degenerating hips, go here and kindly ask for some soap, please! when you order your hookah. Because blowing hookah bubbles is the grown-up version of fun. You won't be able to stop. Sorry for the horrible picture, but sometimes the hookah life is too cool to produce good quality pictures. 

If your visit happens to line up with the second Sunday of the month, then HIGH five and kudos you and all of that. Second Sunday on King is the best way to hit up and walk downtown for hours without once complaining about sore feet or schweaty pits. The street is closed to traffic meaning you get to walk in the middle of the road while licking your King of Pops and pop in and out of every cool store you've been meaning to go into. Did I mention the food trucks are there? Did I mention one of the food trucks is named Outta My Huevos? Genuis.

Other obvious mandatory adventures?
Beach time.

Game time.
Look who is winning. Me me me me me. Hashtag winner. Hashtag lame hashtag. 

Friend time.

The End.
Well, The End, for this past weekend's adventures. Freds and I have a list of about 100 other restaurants and attractions and other super fun things to do. Hit us up because we're like travel agents now or something? Right? I mean any travel agent that suggests you play Cards Against Humanity is the best kind of travel agent. 

Charleston, I can't wait to call you home.  

July 17, 2013

a not wedding wednesday.

I used to roll my eyes when a girl would write about her best boyfriend ever. I mean, come on, we get it, but write something original. (Can you feel the eye roll?) Use some words. Some feelings. Something. (All of my posts about Freddie are obviously so romantic and not at all cliche...I don't have to follow my own rules, okay?) Or how about when people write about wishing Happy Mother's Day to the best mom ever! Well that's just not true because how can everyone be talking about my mom? (see what I did there??) 

I am really not the heartless person that comes raging out when I write blog posts. I do realize that everyone thinks his or her significant other or mom or dad is really the best person out there. Period. 

But something happened when I got old (still a year shy of being able to rent a car, folks, so don't go out buying me a walker to use while getting over the hill...). In my old age I've turned into a sentimental son of a gun. We are talking all the emotions and tears. Before going to bed nowadays, I think about how lucky I am to have the friends and family in my life instead of thinking about what super hawt outfit I'm going to wear the next day. Not sure I ever thought about super hawt outfits though...but that's beside the point. I think about marrying Fredster and smile like a looney because I picture old farts Freddie and Emily holding hands in the car and singing obnoxious songs out loud just like we do now in our young fart-y age.

So on my birthday as I waited for Freddie to get home from work and I waited for my brother to finish getting ready for our night of celebrating, I decided that ya know what, shucks, saying someone is the best ever is a-okay with me. Because sometimes that sums up exactly how you feel and who the h-e-double-you-know-what cares if writing that makes some crazy girl (named Emily...) roll her eyes. I am saying it loud and proud that this weekend proved that I have the best Freddiefiance who puts up with emotional Emily and gave me sweet gifts like the biggest and baddest wine cooler. I have the best brother who drove up from Orlando and insisted I take a few days off so we could hang out before I become a Mrs. puh-retty soon. I have the best mom (even when it's not Mother's Day who left surprises and 24 balloons in my room when I returned home from a birthday weekend away. 

I have the best of the best. Whatchu gonna do 'bout it?

Helloooo, beautiful babay. Thanks for keeping my wine nice and chilly. 

Emotional and cheesy Wednesday, over and out. 

July 15, 2013

a very merry for real birthday

This post has no title as I start typing it. I mean, titles. Why do they exist? Can't I just put a picture that draws everyone in with its awesomeness and not have to worry about stumbling and tumbling through words trying to explain why you should click on my post and read it?

So we'll come back to that title business. For now, this no-title post is a puhretty exciting post and probably doesn't even need a title. Why? Because today is my birthday. And my brother is in Chucktown with me and the Freddiefiance until early tomorrow morning. That means birthday celebrations all day. And all night. And we can't stop, won't stop! Chocolate ice cream for breakfast? Coming right up, please and thank you.

I have lots I want to type-y type up about introducing Broseph to Chawlston and trying to convince him to move here because really everyone should live there, shouldn't they? Shouldn't you? For now, I will leave you with a few pictures. Just a taste of what's to come and all that. So, taste away. (Does that sound gross? Tasting pictures? Nah, go for it. Taste 'em). I've got some ice cream cake to eat. I mean, ice cream cake to taste.

1- Snapchatting MC to show that her fav child made it to Charleston. Hint: favorite is me. Hint hint: that's a lie. Joseph is the favorite and everyone knows it. Now you know it too.
2- Second Sunday on King? Another reason everyone should live here.
3- Birthday eve dessert of homemade Rice Krispies lathered in melted Reese's chips. I may or may not have drooled while typing that out. Wait! I just remembered there are leftovers. Brb.
4- First time playing this game and WHAT ROCK HAVE I BEEN LIVING UNDER?
Still laughing 'bout it.

Still eating ice cream cake.
Happy July 15!

Sami's Shenanigans

July 10, 2013

signs you're losing it

Did you know it is July? I mean, I know it is and I've known it has been for 10 days and all, but...but, but, it is July! Close to mid-July! My mind is stuck in May. Oh May, give me back by brain. I'm always telling a story that happened last month (a.k.a. May) or thinking about my last month of classes and how it was just a week or so ago (a.k.a. it was 2 months ago, in May). I can't wrap my mind around July. July 10. 

This never happens to me. Ne.ver. You see, my birthday is in July. July 15, to be exact. And it's not that July 15 is my birthday, it's that July is my birthmonth. Just as the Earth revolves around the Sun, the year revolves around July and my birthmonth. We I start counting down July 16, as any sane person would do. The day after your birthday is a new start to the year and all. 

Anyways, I hope you've gotten the point of those two paragraphs: it is July, I don't believe it is July, and I love my birthday.
the Birthday Monster, in the flesh.

This year is the year that pigs fly. That hell freezes. That all those ain't never gonna happen things actually do happen. Like me, not annoying everyone about how many days it is to my birthday. Or how up until a few days ago I thought my birthday was on a Sunday. Sunday! July 14! Who am I?! My birthday is so obviously on a Monday and I so obviously know that years in advance. 

Except for this year. The year I lose my mind and go and done get married. Get married! Looks like I've got blinders on and I'm headed straight towards August 24. And ya know, I can't say I'm sad about my lack of birthday knowledge this year. Because pretty soon every day will be a celebration with a Freddiefriendhusband.


But really, just in case my really interesting birthday story wasn't convincing enough that I'm losing my mind, I woke up at 5:30 on Monday morning convinced (and I mean convinced) that I never paid my taxes. I even wrote myself a sweet little reminder in my phone that read: Taxes?!!

July 8, 2013

workin' for the weekend

I could very easily describe my weekend shenanigans with one word: rain. It has rained for a week straight and it is scheduled to rain for another week straight. Or two. Or three. Who knows. One town nearby postponed their Fourth fireworks until Labor Day weekend so I guess they think it will be raining for another 7 weeks straight. Rain causes one's weekday and/or weekend shenanigans to change drastically from sunbathing and beach going to unpacking and rearranging furniture. Which btdubs, I am the master of rearranging furniture over. and over. and over. And over. I guess the problem is I just get too many genius ideas of how to have the rooms arranged.

I bet Freddie is lol-ing so hard at reading that. No Emily, it's called being indecisive. Make up your mind already!

The good news (good news for Freddiefran and none of you) is that I am back in the ATL for my last 3 weeks of teaching and won't be able to change my mind (1000 more times) about the furniture in Charleston. Phew. Wait, did you get that part in the middle there--my last. 3. weeks. of. teaching. in. Atlanta. Ahhhhh!

This wedding is happening. This move is happening. Life is happening. And I could not possibly be any more excited.

Enjoy the pictures while I go over how I want to decorate the walls at the new place. The fun never ends!

Sorry that I am the worst about only using Instagram pictures on my blog and if you follow me on Instagram then you see these pictures way too much and regret liking any of the photos. Sorry for that run-on sentence, too.

1- What a newly moved into apartment looks like at midnight.
2- Most important things get hung first. Slash are the only things to get hung.
3- I painted this. More on that laterz, alligators.
4- Low country boil dinner is the way to go when you live by the beach.
5- Enjoying the only partly sunny day. Thanks, Sun!
6- Sparklers on the Fifth of July. Even better.
7- Bag full of bagels and a happy belly.
8- The reporters telling us to Vote for Freddie. Freddie Weiss, obviously. For being the best overall.
9- The packing and unpacking and organizing never ends. Welcome home. 

Sami's Shenanigans

July 5, 2013

joining the club

Hey, Bloglovin. You are looking mighty fine.

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life before wifi

Life before WiFi, or internet for that matter, must have been a crazy thing. I mean, I was alive during that time and remember when dial-up was the end all. How exciting was that AOL dial up noise?!  You remember too, don't play. Freddie the Georgia Tech graduate was able to be all smarty pants the other night and get the internet working. Working where, you ask?!

Well, this week marks my first week "living" in Charleston. I say living, quote/unquote, because I'm not really here here until after August 24, the big day, dun dun dun. But I packed up 80% of my belongings and went ahead and moved them up here into our new condo! Right by the beach! Me and Freddiefriend! More exclamation points! We moved into our condo late Sunday after driving a big 'ole U-Haul from Atlanta. And by we, I mean Freddie because remember? We are we now.
Thank goodness for fraternity friends because otherwise none of our furniture would be up in this condo right now. Hello, my weakling arms, say hello to the blogging world. Hello, second floor condo, say hello to our furniture placed up inside of you because of Freddie's fraternity brothers. 

And to answer all of your questions, I have been eaten alive by the mosquitoes. Pretty sure people at the pool thought I had leprosy.  

But shut yo mouth Emily, who cares about parasitic bugs when there is a new condo and a soon-to-be new husband to talk about?! 

I'll post way more about condo life and decorating and unpacking and rearranging and rearranging furniture later. Just call me, Rearrangy Remily. No? For now, let's talk about things that are meant to be. Fate and all that stuff. There was one thing that happened on Sunday that made me go, Whoa dude, this is definitely meant to be.

Deep, I know. I am quite the philosopher. 

90% of the drive from Atlanta to Charleston was thunderstorms. No, not a light sprinkling of rain. We're talking black skies, emergency tornado warning take cover now alerts. By the way, I am terrified of tornadoes. T-e-r-r-f-i-e-d so that was fun and all. Cue whimpering. So, here we are, me in a mini-van and Freds in a U-Haul, caravan-ing through the sheets of rain and blasts of tornado warnings, hoping the rain somehow magically stops so we can move in dry weather and wam bam thank you m'am, our prayers were answered. The instant we started crossing the bridge from Charleston to Mt. Pleasant the skies went from this:

to this...

Thank you Lawdy Lawd, for blue skies and perfect moving weather. I'd say this move to Charleston (and this marriage to the Fredster), is pretty meant to be.

Happy Day After the Fourth! Babies, you're all fireworks. And hopefully got to see good ones last night. 


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