October 31, 2013

makes the world taste good

Choosing a candy bar is no small feat. Since it is Halloween (which means tonight I am going to eat my body weight times dos in H-wen candy) I figured I would break down candy bars for you and let you know how your choice in candy bars tells me everything I need to know about you.

Creep. Creep.

During my first week of teaching in Charleston one of my fellow teachers had every child go around and say his or her name and grade (basic, boring schmoring stuff), but then she asked them to tell us their favorite candy bar. Genius. Let me tell you, I knew the 3 girls who said a granola bar was their favorite candy bar (?!) were trouble and guess what? Granola girls are trouble. If only I lived in a world where my brain and body thought granola bars were candy. If. Only. 


Let's start off with a classic.
Hershey's Milk Chocolate Bar
Some may say simple is better. When it comes to this simple chocolate bar, I say simple is boring. Yes, the chocolate is okay. Ish. But when I'm craving something chocolatey and ready to kill some hardcore calories, I would much rather reach for something that has more texture or more rich flavors. If Hershey was a richer, darker chocolate, I just might pick it up in a fit of chocolate hunger. Notice I said might. Picking Hershey's as a favorite just tells me that you think being adventurous should be saved for things like being late for an appointment and not for things like the taste of chocolate.


Nestle Crunch
Mmm, there's something just so right about a Crunch bar. It's got the simplicity of the Hershey's nothing-but-chocolate bar, but then adds a kick of something crunchy. A.K.A.- with a dash of somethang funky. Let's not even get started with how Buncha Crunch are the best movie theater snack ever. Good on their own? Check. Good as they get melty in popcorn? Check. Hands down, no competition. That being said, if you pick Crunch as your favorite then I know you probably haven't tried much chocolate in your life and maybe need some serious soul searching when it comes to chocolate. You must be one of those people who likes other candy better than chocolate, right?

Twix
Twix kind of gets thrown to the side by it's older brother Snickers and it's younger sister Milky Way. But that's what happens when you're the middle child. You're so good, but so forgotten (kidding, Mom!). I am guilty of forgetting that I actually like Twix. A lot. With a crunchy biscuit on the bottom half and a drizzle of caramel on the top half, it's like your mouth is eating too different things. Two different and very delicious things. Picking Twix as your favorite shows me that you notice and appreciate the smaller things in life. Like middle children.


Snickers
Who doesn't like Snickers?! And that right there is the issue: who doesn't like Snickers? Everyone loves Snickers (except me, shhh). Remember your mom asking you, Well Little Sally, if everyone jumped off a cliff would you? If Snicks is your favorite than the answer to that question is probably Yes, yes I would jump, Mommy-O. Everyone is doing it, so why not. Everyone is eating it and loving it, so why not. Just know that after you eat it and you jump off that cliff with everyone, you're going to spend your air time picking peanuts outta your teeth. Gross.

Milky Way
Now here is where I turn into the hypocrite (which I am allowed to be. Don't worry, I got permission and everything). I think Hershey's is too simple, while Crunch bar adds the right about of fun to a basic chocolate bar...but then I think a Snickers has too much on the insides and Milky Way's more simplistic insides make it a winner in my book. It doesn't have to make sense--my tastebuds usually don't. It's got the right amount of nougat mixed with the right amount of caramel mixed with the right amount of outside chocolate so when you bite it you get a combination of the 3 textures that is to die for, if I may say so myself. If you like Milky Way, then I know that you like to have fun without going too wild. You also may be kind of a loner because all your friends like Snickers, remember? And as my husband says, Why would you choose a Milky Way?!?! I read somewhere that a Milky Way happens when a 3 Musketeer and a Caramello have a baby. And that right there should be reason enough to not jump off of the Snickers cliff.

Okay okay, I'll stop writing about Milky Ways.
Mostly because I am drooling over here.

Happy Halloween! 
May your night be filled with nothing spooky like granola bars, but only with decedent chocolate. Or other candy if that's your drift. Send your chocolate candy this way if that is you. 

October 28, 2013

is this real life?

At 8:30 am on Saturday morning I opened our front door to head out to teach. A small FedEx package was sitting there. Early Saturday morning mail?! Yes, please. I quickly opened it just to see what our weekend funsies mail was and realized...

it was our wedding video. 
The DVD. Not just the DVD, but THE DVD. The one we've I've been anxiously awaiting since Day 2 of being married. Or somewhere around there. (I'm usually really good at being patient. Wink wink).

I exclaimed some things like Are you kidding me?! 
Don't watch it without me! 
Why do I have to teach on this one Saturday when the greatest thing happens?!
(I'm usually also really good at not exaggerating). 

As soon as my last dancer walked out the door with her parents, I ran out the door and into my car to get home as soon as possible. I felt so bad for Freddie having to sit around for 3 hours and not get to watch the tape...spoiler alert: He was fine. He has patience. Yadda yadda. 

And you know what? It was worth the wait. Worth my ever-so patient wait. I had forgotten the smallest details of our ceremony.

Like our first kiss. I remember the anxiety about saying the vows. I remember the calm I felt when it was actually time to say them. I remember thinking that writing the vows wasn't a competition, but if it had been Freds would have won. And then...I remember getting kissed and kissing, but where did I put my hands? Did we kiss once? Twice? A peck? So many questions which were all answered during our   movie time. Vows, kisses, flash mobs, cake cutting, dancing, a garter tossing, and a bouquet tossing later and I thought nothing in the world could make our Saturday any better. 

Until...10 hours later when I was dressed as the Tin Man sipping some wine at a Halloween party and I get the word that our wedding pictures are done. 

Done and needing to be viewed on my computer at home 30 minutes away. I exclaimed some things like Is this real life?!
Both in one day?!
I need my computer!
Can you believe they are ready now?!
My computer...at home...
Okay, one more glass of wine then we'll go home.
Eeeee!

I was excited. Or something.

This long, Wordy McWordison blog ends with you picturing me crying at 2am while looking at some wedding pictures. The wine had nothing to do with the tears. 
But, shut up, they are so pretty. Trust me, you would have cried too/ will cry too.

And that my friends is how my Saturday shenanigans went down. They were so shenany and I would not have had it any other way. 

Sneak peek with pictures of the pictures commences now.
p.s.- dat would be how the first kiss went down. Worth the cooties.


Sami's Shenanigans

October 25, 2013

being married for 2 months is like...

Yesterday marked 2 months of married life for me and Freds. And while this relationship is not a teenage romance or a child's first year of life, recognizing the months is still...well, it's still fun. We're still newlyweds who are soaking up every day of marital bliss. And life is full of giggles and rainbows. Or something like that. 
Oh sorry, I meant life is full of giggles and cake, my bad. 

Last night we did what any couple celebrating 2 months of being married would do and went out to dinner. Just when I think we've officially found all the delicious you-must-try-it restaurants around here we manage to up and find another hidden gem. Meaning,  if you ever come and visit us in the town of Charles, bring your elastic waist pants. This is one time in your life you won't regret it. 

I told Freddie to help me think of good analogies for a Being Married for 2 Months is Like... blog. That's what any good and not annoying wife would ask her husband at dinner, yes? Yes. Just like a sweet husband, Freddie humored me. Freddie, start writing my b-logs, plz?! Here's what he came up with.

Being Married for 2 Months is Like...

-Being on permanent vacation. That you can never get rid of. 
He added that second sentence after a pause. I like to think he meant to add a third sentence that said something along the lines of, and that you never want to get rid of. Anyways, dude has a point. We are starting the Weiss married life in this place.

-Heaven.
This one was said with a head tilt and a smile. Maybe even some schmoozy eyes. Isn't that what guys do? Schmoozy eyes instead of batting eyelashes? Who knows. All I really want to know is if our marriage feels like heaven to him, does that mean I get to wear white after Labor Day?

-Being at IKEA.
His explanation for this was...not blog worthy. So we'll make up what I'm sure he really meant. Like something about the hard work of going through all the levels (years of marriage?) and how sometimes you want to poke your eyes out (the times when marriage isn't like giggles and cake. Shocking to think, I know.) but when you've got your new snazzy, easy peasy furniture sitting up in your house you can't help but feel proud and happy at how mighty fine it looks (this obviously refers to the wife being a hot hottie who is intelligent beyond her years and beautiful not-so beyond her years that the husband can't help feel proud and lucky and wonderful and happy and...you get it).

P-h-e-w. IKEA explanation run-on sentence, over and out.

The main point that comes from my sub points up there is that being married for 2 months is fun. It just is. I can't wait to see how much more fun it gets at 2 years. And 12 years. And 20 years. And even all the years that don't have a number 2 in them.

Happy 2 months, my snazzy husband.

October 23, 2013

pics from a sis

Meet Ann. 
My sister.
Is it sibling week on this blog or what? I guess I'll have to start introducing you to my brother. And my brother-in-law. And...

If you've been here awhile you've met her before and you know that her hair is amazing, her dimple is precious, her photography skills are real, and I am jealous of all of the above. 

But let's not get that tangent started because I could go on and on all day long about how insanely generous I was to suck up all the crappy genes (like straight, stringy hair and zero zilch dimples) and how she should thank me for that... but like I said, let's not get that started. (Love you, Ann-y poo!)

The other night I received this text from Young Ann:

Do you sense the urgency?
Store, what store? 
Aren't you intrigued?
What store?!

Remember up there when I said Ann's photography skills are real? Very, very real. Well after years of photography classes and a few months studying the art of it all at college and several paid gigs into this bizness, Ann started her own little page on 
(which is an awesome awesome place, by the way. It's where I got my Ron Swanson MacBook skin. A.K.A.-it's the place that made me and my computer the coolest ever. But we can talk about that later. This is about Ann-y Doodle). 

She's selling some prints, and shirts, and skins, and cases, and lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my! P.S. Those pointe shoed feet belong to me. Who doesn't want a tank top with my feet on it?! (And I'm not even being sarcastic. Pretty pointe shoes, for the win).

 Need some photographic evidence of her real mad skills? Ch-ch-check it out. 

Remember that time she took dance pictures?

Or when she took our engagement pictures?

Or when she walked around Newnan, the cutest little hometown you ever did see, and snapped some shots?

Or when she took a picture of the creepiest fish in the ocean? 

Have I successfully sold you on my sister? Convinced you to like her better than me? (Whaaat? Who typed that?) I figured my blog is a good a place as any to shamelessly promote and brag about my sister. 
Did I mention she gets it all from me?

Check out her shop. Fawn over her hair. Be jealous of her clothes. We all do it, it's okay. Go ahead.
But mostly just check out her shop! ;)

October 21, 2013

Sister, Sister

Another weekend over. Another week begins.
When you read between the lines that reads a week of stressing out over what costume to wear to a Halloween party this weekend begins.

Side note: Halloween as a child is easy peasy. Oh hey, I pick this princess this year! I'll save that princess for next year. That was the life! Now I'm like hmm...can I cheaply make a costume with the clothes in my closet? The extra towels in my linen closet? The fancy high heels I bought and wore once? Or...can I wear my jam jams and eat all the candy myself? The answer is yes. Yes candy. Yes pajamas. Forever and always.

But that's for next weekend.

My sistah-in-law came into town this weekend and Freddie and I put on our best Charleston Tour Guide suits. Again. Man, we are starting to rock this Chucktown life.

Remember Sara?
You met her a few posts ago when we discussed how she is definitely Freddie's sister and I am definitely not his sister.

Anyways, Sara came. We ate. A lot. We drowned in all things Netflix. A lot. We walked through and around and in all the beautiful parts of Charleston (so that's every part of Charleston, by the way). And then maybe we ate some more? I can't remember. The Monday blues make my brain hurt. Mondays are bad enough since they officially end the weekend. Throw in a Monday that ends the weekend and fun family time? Screw you, Monday.
(Just kidding, Mons. Me love you long time if you will love me in return).


Around the square...and go.
one. Best view. The End. Moving on.
two. We found the tiniest dog I have ever ever ever ever seen. It almost came home with us Sara.
three. Sister, Sister! Come on, sing it, you know you want to.
four. Brother, Sister! Not as catchy as a tune, but still pretty great siblings.
five. Taking pictures in the sun is so hard. Sigh. Life on the beach.
six. Saturday morning farmer's market is kind of becoming our thing. By our I mean most of the people in Charleston, but whatever. I like to think it's just me and Freds that go there every week for 2 whole weeks in a row.

I retract my former statement about this Monday being especially sucky. That's not true. This Monday is a Monday worth celebrating because I married into a fabulous family and moved to a fabulous place. Combine the two and BAM. Moore Weiss, Moore Fun is a real thing and this past weekend proved to be all the Moore Fun with my Freddie and Sara Weiss folk.

Sara, come again next weekend. Mostly so we can wear green and recreate fun pictures like this.
Sami's Shenanigans

October 18, 2013

china, not the country

When my parents visited they graciously offered to bring a china cabinet for us to use in our dining room. Read: we needed something else into which we could cram and stuff like wedding presents/china/crystal/silver. Read: storage space is limited in our apartment. Read: when I said dining room I meant dining "area." 

My parents had an extra family heirloom china cabinet just chilling in their garage and it was dying to come live on the coast, as most furniture is wishing to do. Wish granted, you china cabinet you. I hope you're enjoying beach life. 




Have I mentioned I am so glad we registered for china and crystal? I heard a lot of Really? China? When are y'all ever going to use that? Couples don't do that anymore. Save your registry for more fun stuff. And for a hawt second I almost was swayed by the naysayers. Lame. Growing up, I loved every time we used my grandparent's or my parent's china so I'm pretty excited to have our own little treasures.  I could also probably tell you everyone who got us a piece of that there treasure. Even if we only use them a few times a year, fine by me (or...supper every night on the china!). Because don't they look mighty fancy and fine sitting up in that china cabinet?!

Yes, siree, they do.

Fun story time!
Every year my ballet company went to perform and take classes at a regional ballet festival. One day in our class the teacher asked a girl her name. Her response? 

China. Like the continent. 

I didn't say everyone at the ballet festival was smart, okay? 
Psssst. China's a country. 
I also couldn't write an entire post with the word china plastered all in it without telling that gem of a story. 

You're welcome and The End. 

October 15, 2013

brother husband

Listen here, my parents are in town and for someone who is the homebodiest of homebodies I am soaking up every minute of their visit. Meaning, I was at the studio teaching from 9am-6pm yesterday so today I am reclaiming by title of Best Daughter Ever (reclaiming? Who am I kidding? I've always held that title. Sorry, Ann-y poo) by getting a sub for all my classes of the day so I can spend all day playing Charleston tourist. Fanny pack not included. Food baby (babies) included. 

Until their vacation trip is over and until I remember to take all sorts of funsies pictures before they leave and until I write a really funny update for ya I will leave with you a story from my weekend.

Once upon a Saturday morning (as any good story starts) Freddie and I went downtown for breakfast bagels.

Then we were like What the hay?! We're downtown anyways, so let's go to the farmer's market and be cutesies Charleston people.

So we did and we were (were cutesies Charleston people, that is...).

In our efforts of being cutesies Charleston people, Freddie stopped to buy some sweet South Carolina muscadines. As always, Freddie becomes best friends with everyone he meets. As always, I'm quietly awkwardly standing in the back. Stranger danger! But then I hear the "Sweet" Muscadine Sellin' Man say that Freddie and I look just like brother and sister.

I had to join the conversation and assure this man that Freddie and I were A) From Georgia, not Alabama and B) We were definitely not brother and sister.

But he didn't stop. He kept trying to assure us that he didn't mean it in a bad way. A bad way? That's right, every married couple wants to hear they look related and that it's a good thing.

He went on. And on. And on.
Then added that you know sometimes when couples have been together so long that they start to look alike?

Yeah, I don't know that either. At least, after a short 2.5 years of being together for "so long" I don't know that. If we're already looking like brother and sister after 2.5 years, maybe after 50 we'll be twins? The same person even?!

The possibilities are endless.

Meet Freddie's real sister who really looks like him.
Hi, Sara! 
p.s. Freddie is a twin. But not with Sara. Which makes no sense because they really do look alike unlike Freds and his twin, Jimmie. Twinsies for not realsies.

We did what any sane married-and-definitely-not-brother-and-sister couple would do and just stood there courtesy/awkward laughing until he stopped.

Point of this story is to just stand there and laugh when a muscadine man goes on and on about how you and your husband look like siblings.  

Let's review...

The End.
I also got a delicious delicious baguette at said farmer's market. So that was an exciting end to this story, right?

October 11, 2013

nothing here, folks

Well, it's Friday. That's cool. I'm trying to go along with the theme I've been having of posting 3x a week on this here blog. Do you know how hard that has been? All of you who are churning out 5 posts a week should consider cutting back to 3 because well, it will make me look a heck of a lot better and on top of things.

Just consider it, okay?

Last night during Jeopardy I mistakenly asked Freddie what my Friday blog post should be about. Write about how dumb this girl is!! Oh. My. Gosh. Said through cackling laughter, of course. While that would be a blast of a post...

As any desperate blogger would do, I then turned to my mother for help. That wonderful woman actually gave me some good ideas...so I will not share them with you just yet. But then she shared the fact that she is going shopping today at the Mall of Georgia, which for all you none Georgians, is humungous. That used to be our thing to do while her precious puppies got beautified at the groomers. Sigh. Remember those precious puppies? The ones who ate my wedding dress? Sigh again.

Where was I? Oh yes, speaking of my mom slash my dad, a.k.a. my parents, they are coming into town at the end of this weekend for a little Fall Beach Break trip in Chucktown and I could not be more excited. They haven't been here with me and Freddie here and basically I can't wait to take them through Freddie and Emily's Eating Tour of the City. There's really no better way to meet and appreciate the beauty that is the city of Charleston than to eat your way through it. So consider it done. Consider my leotards needing to be upped to size el Large-o all next week. 
Perma-licious, MC! Mom has been cleaning out the house since the children have all up and moved out. That means I get weekly picture find texts like this one. I don't think I could rock a bowl cut harder if I tried. Which, I wasn't trying. I was 2 and clueless. 

Do you ever miss those younger days? Meaning the days when your bladder was way way bigger? I do. I got up at 5 am this morning because my new pea-size bladder told me to get the you know what up. As I stood up and my ankles popped and as I took some steps and my knees and hips popped I realized, I am old. Old-er? Getting older? I realized all of those things together. I used to never use the bathroom at school because, well, they were gross. Then once I got home from school I wouldn't go pee because playing outside is tres important for the elementary age social hour. Soon enough it was dinner time and I hadn't even taken the time to pee all day. And I was fine. Big mumbo jumbo size bladder, I miss you.

Just like that we went from Jeopardy to my parents to my bladder. And just like that I somehow have an entire post about absolutely nothing.

You are welcome. 
What are some post topics you would like read?

October 10, 2013

who's the teacher?

I've had a certain topic on my little list of blog ideas for awhile.
Things Kids Teach Me.

It's a pretty genius topic seeing as I'm the teacher and I'm supposed to be doing the teaching, yet somehow it always happens the vice versa way of this. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard teachers make comments about how they are the ones getting taught. I always thought that was so. dang. cheesy. 

Until I realized that is exactly what happens when you teach, especially when you teach children. 
(remember that one post I did about how I'm always wrong and always put my foot in my mouth?)
(even though it was about my wedding it applies in all aspects of my life...apparently).  

The past 1.5 months have brought about some b-i-g big changes. Marriage, new state, new city, new students, new teaching hours, new friends. New. New. New. It's all been so exciting and almost refreshing as that first sip of Coke (mmmm, carbonation and sugar. can't go wrong there), but it has also been nerve-wrecking, lonely, and sometimes as refreshing as that first sip of Pepsi. Which, by the way, means it is not refreshing at all. Duh. Even though I will be the first to admit that these sweet, precious children that I teach can bring me the biggest stress some days, they also do a pretty fantastic job at bringing me bits and pieces of happy happy joy joy every day.

Instead of getting all deep and emotional and bringing tears to your sweet cheeks (Hey, I could if I really tried...), I'll stick with a short 'n sweet 'n fun list.

Things Kids Teach Me/Taught Me/Will Continue to Teach Me:


one. If the sky is gray and dreary but there is no rain coming down, you still have to wear your rain boots. We spend a lot of time picking out these fabulous rain boots (at Target usually. Everything cool happens at Target) so why not pull them out once in awhile and be ready for some puddle jumpin'?!

two.  If you are excited about something, then squeal! Laugh! Jump up and freaking down. Why hide how you feel? Every Wednesday morning when we get our special glitter for being good listeners, one of my students does this little happy glitter dance that consists of quiet-ish squeals, tiny jumps, and fists in the air. Oh yeah, and a HUGE smile. I think we all need to find something that makes us do a happy glitter dance. 
Fred's happy glitter dance happens when arcade games are involved.

three.  If you're having a grumpy day, think of something that makes you smile and actually smile. We lame adults try to do this, but often don't let go of whatever is making us Mr. Grump Pants so that's exactly the way we stay. Grumpy. We are reading Doc McStuffins this week in class (who has two thumbs and never heard of the good 'ole Doc until this week? Moi. Time to start watching Disney Jr.). The mere mention of Doc McStuffins has turned about 5 grumpy frowns into rockin' teethy smiles in the past 4 days. I need that ability to adjust a bad attitude and I need it now, please and thank you. 
Ice cream is usually what I need to turn my frown upside down. Ben and Jerry's flavors preferred, but not required. 

four. Mixing patterns is a must. When you are wearing a plain boring pink ballet leotard you must accessorize with the proper gear. Such as a leopard print cardigan. Or a skirt with the galaxy on it. Hello, starry night. Or leg warmers that have glitter sewn in them because glitter-less leg warmers are such a drag. If they get to wear all of that combined then you better bet your bottom dollar that I get to wear polka dots and floral. 
Looky here, a terrible quality selfsies that was only supposed to see my sister's phone and not the light of day on this here blog. Typical. 

Basically kids see the world as being a happier place where the fun never ends, even when you find yourself wearing grumpy pants for a few minutes. And even when the skies are gray. And even when... well, you get the picture.
Life is more fun through the eyes of a child.

So let's all be kiddos again.

UPDATE: I wrote this yesterday afternoon after feeling particularly sentimental and kid-squishy after some sweet, sweet classes. Then, oooh then, I taught yesterday evening and wanted to pull my hair out. All of it. Every single piece. So maybe another thing kids have taught me is to appreciate my little family of 2 for the (long) time being ;)

October 8, 2013

what is a picture worth again?

I've learned a lot of things since getting married. 

Like, how to say 'thank you' 100-or-so different ways so my thank you notes don't all sound the same. 

I have also learned, or rather forgotten, how to take pictures. Here I am living it up as the wife of a Weiss in Charleston of all places and I can't even lift a finger to hit the camera button on my smarty pants phone. Lazy? Or having such a good time living life that I don't care to pick up my camera?

While I would like to get all Sentimental Sally on you and claim that it is the latter of the two, the reasoning definitely falls closer to the l-a-z-y end of the spectrum.

This is the most recent picture taken on my phone...get ready...
Ta-da! Voila! Or something.

Now while you are probably super impressed with the lighting on the baby and the fact that the recipe in it sounds like it is delicious (which, btdubs, it is supa' yummy in the tums), the fact remains that this picture is no representation of my life as of late.

Other than being a representation of what delicious creations I get to eat for din din since marrying Chef Freds, but that is besides the point.

My life lately includes things like:
-Sunset bike rides to the farmer's market.
-Creating shrimp n' grits and fajitas dumplings with friends (Holy Mouth-gasm, make these too. Yes, you.).
-Luscious blue skies with a blue ocean background.
-Scoping out Hob Lob for the best Halloween-y fall decorations.
-Operation Decorate the Weiss Apartment. Never thought I'd be so excited for dining room chairs. Chairs! On which we can sit and eat! At the table! Like grown ups! Exclamation points for everyone.
-Promised walks on the beach (which will happen soon and there will be pictures. Pinky promise, cross my heart, needles and stuff). 

Did you do a good job appropriately picturing all of these life moments in your head? I hope so. I also hope you didn't forget to add in Freddie leveling the legs on the wine cooler (VIP stuff happening over here in Operation Decorate the Weiss Apartment) or add in me eating a Chocolate Sea Salt pop at the farmer's market <<a.k.a. me dripping chocolate down my arms and legs like a boss fool. 

I guess what I am saying through all of these wordy words in this bloggy blog is that I will take more pictures. I am pretty blessed with some amazing surroundings (huzband included there, daw) and I should be documenting the crap outta this fabulous part of my life. 

Oh, wait, here's another recent pic. Almost forgot!
I call it, "Places Freddie Leaves His Wedding Band: Edition 5" (out of 43 or so).

Don't know how I'll top that picture...
But here's to snapping the camera a bit more!

October 4, 2013

on waiting

Whenever I read about people's goals there always seems to be a point on there about being more patient or learning patience. I always just skimmed over those kind of goals because A) obviously I am the most patient person ever and have nothing to learn in that department (let me introduce you to sarcasm...) and B) I'm all about stopping on the kind of goals like eat less sweets and promising myself that maybe tonight I will have only 5 mini peanut butter Snickers instead of 6. 

Then I have 7 Snickers instead and realize that 7 is still less than what I want to eat so that's kind of like fulfilling a goal, right?!
Mr. Vampire and Miss Witch don't realize that they are wrong. I get to eat all of the sweets. 


Well recently, and way more recently than I'll ever admit, I realized that I am not one of those don't need to learn patience people. In fact, I am the opposite of those kind of people. I am the least patient person. And that is putting it mildly.

I've got the itch. 
The Impatient Itch. 
And Calamine lotion ain't helping this ailment. 

My mom has a lot of isms, as we like to call them. Actually we call them Mary Caroline-isms and they are some of the wisest words you ever heard/will ever hear. Here is her patience-ism:
Patience is a virtue.
Virtue is a grace.
Both put together make a very pretty face. 

After texting my mom over something ridiculous the other day, this was her response.


Right now I'm itching and dying to scratch over...

-The apartment not being decorated and done. Oh, that's right, crazy, calm your panties and realize we're in no race. Don't hang a picture just for the sake of filling up wall space. Don't buy decorative pillows just for the sake of having decorative pillows. Although I must admit our decorative pillows are looking mighty fine up in here. That sentence makes me feel so grown up. Decorative pillows! Pillows. To decorate! Fancy.

Gift cards as wedding presents are definitely helping us scratch this lil' impatient decorating itch though. Score. 

-Not seeing our wedding pictures yet. This one should be in caps lock and maybe put in the biggest font size available. I am turning into a crazy cuhrazy lady that only wants to open my eyes from a deep slumber when there is going to be a big pile of wedding pictures in front of them. Let's blame it on the fact that the wedding went by way too fast. Slow down there, Sally! I may or may not be grasping on to anything wedding related so I don't forget the feeling of absolutely glee and happiness that I felt the entire day.
Or something like that. Thank goodness for cell phone wedding pictures that I look at an insane a normal amount. Totally normal. 

-TV show don't release entire seasons at a time. What the what, Netflix, thanks for spoiling me rotten. I get so annoyed and frustrated watching shows live. Ugh, commercials. Really, 2013? We still have to have commercials? I get that Pantene will make my hair sparkle and that the gecko being in Geico commercials is hilarious. Really, networks, we only get one episode per week? This is madness and I do not agree. Netflix, me love you long time...but only if you'll hurry up and post the entire season 2 of House of Cards. 

Another Impatient Itch that is terrible? Waiting on something in the mail. I swear, the day after I order something I start checking the mail. Even when I have the tracking information and can clearly see it was checked in a truck in Philadelphia this morning. But what's worse than just obsessively checking the mail when you can use the internet to see where the package is...is being upset when the mailbox is empty.

Who am I?
I just realized that I described myself as crazy in just about every point up there. So there ya have it, I'm just crazy.
Crazy impatient.
The end.

Sorry to all of you who thought I would be ending this post with some wisdom on how to find patience and hold onto it. 
I'm still figuring that one out. 

October 2, 2013

5 Reasons I Would Not Survive the Zombie Apocalypse

This post is in honor of the start of the month of Halloween and my recent viewings of The Walking Dead. Which, by the way, was a show I was never interested in watching. (Even though it is filmed by my hometown! There's your Yippee! Fun Fact of the Day). But then I got married. Then watching shows on Netflix after work became the new married thing to do. Then we ran out of shows and whad'ya know, we started Walking Dead. Then I became enthralled in the OMG I do not want to watch another one of these sad and gross episodes ::clicks the play button while saying that:: kind of way. 

Following?

For the past week as we've plowed through an average of 4ish episodes an evening (embarrassing high five!), I have started to notice certain elements pertaining to living in the zombie time period that would just not mesh with my wants and needs. And yes, my nose was up in the air and my pinky was out and about as I typed that. La te da. 



one.
Nowadays the whole 'no poo' thing is trending and trending hard. I'm over here like no poo fo' you? That means mo' poo for moi, kapeesh? All these zombie killers and survivors on the show are letting their "dirty" manes flow free. Riiiiight, Andrea, cold water and washing your hair once in a blue moon make your curls bouncalicious. My McGreasey washed yesterday locks beg to differ. 

Although now that I think about it I guess the moral of the show is...
zombie blood is good for the hair?
That's what I've been getting from it anyways. 


two.
Speaking of blood, I don't do blood. Ya know, like some people don't do camping. Or some people don't do red meat. I don't do blood. I was all about being a doctor for one hot second when I was 3. That's the thing with being 3, you're young and crazy. Once I got older and passed out in blood related incidents (sound creepy much?), I realized the dance world was a much safer haven for my walk in life. I can do bruised toenails and achey feet. Leave the blood for Rick n' Hershel n' them.
 A delusional and young Emily. Good thing there are no zombie teddy bears. Yet. 


three. 
Smells. 
One time when I was a young lass, I would go watch my brother at his T-ball practices. One of the families there had a certain stench, or so I'm told. I was also told that it was is rude to make comments out loud about smelly things around smelly people so I took to making a point of pinching my nose and making a beeline for the other side of the bleachers. All inconspicuous like. There you have it. Rotting, uncleanly, and sweaty smells mean I could only survive by wearing a nose clip permanently. But at least the stench would make my hair look good, right, Andrea?
                                          The only thing I smell like is....manliness. Rawr.                                via


four.
There's a reason Walking Dead season 2 and 3 skipped right over the winter season in the show. Because, realistically, there's no way they would have survived it. I mean, I know it is set in Georgia and I know all of you northerners are like Ohh okay, Miz Hot Pants. Sure, Georgia gets so cold. Wink wink. But it does! I'm already getting cold and crying at the thought of not getting warm again until April! It rarely snows here, true, but it gets right near freezing temps and then just rains and rains and rains. Cold rain?! No. Just no. I need my socks, blanket, long sleeve t-shirt, sweatshirt, leggings, and maybe a pair of baggy sweatpants? Yes, definitely those. I need all of those before I can be set up in the cold. Pretty sure their non-existent zombie apocalypse pre-packed bags didn't come with any of those things. 
Wait, Mr. Zombie, I need to pull the other side of my mitten up so I can get warm so I can get the strength to kill you!


five. 
I love Chapstick. Have you seen those poor zombies' lips? Blood and guts just ain't cutting it as a luscious lip moisturizer. In fact, some of them don't even have lips! Know why? No Chapstick in that post-apocalyptic world. If I was stuck on a deserted island (or in the zombie apocalypse), you better believe I would have Costco size tubs of Chapstick. I have a tube in just about every accessible place. Purse, Dance bag, Car, Medicine cabinet, etc. Rick always wants to know what happens when the ammo is gone? Well I want to know what happens when all the Chapstick is gone??
Crazy fool said what?! No more Chapstick?!

That being said, if I had clean hair and perfume and no blood and hot and cold weather clothes and Chapstick you bet yer bottom dollar I would survive the crap outta the zombie apocalypse
...

Would you?

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