September 25, 2014

a day in the life of slacking packing

I get stressed out fairly easily. When I say fairly I am using it in the most-definitely-all-the-time kind of way. It's really rather ridiculous how I can take the smallest situation and stress and overthink and ponder and wonder and worry over it until the cows coming home and get back out and come freaking home again. 

Freddie rarely gets stressed out. When I say rarely I am using it in the maybe-once-a-year kind of way. The dude is the most laid back, go with the flow, don't worry/be happy kind of dude. 

We've got a good thing going on over here.
E: OMG we are going to be late! Why did we plan better? You should call. Call. Are you calling? Ugh. Why are we late? What did we do wrong in life for this horrible late thing to happen to us.
F: ::sits there in silence::

See? A really, really good thing going on over here.

Anyways, so what was I going to talk about? Yes, packing.
Dun dun dun. The dreaded p word (t rhymes with p and that stands for pool/packing) (bloggy bonus points to whomever can name that musical). 

We are moving across the way this weekend into a newer, nicer, hardwood floored condo. Which means there is going to be a lot of rug talk going on here soon...but anyways, back to moving and packing.  We have been slowly going through stuff, throwing away stuff, and giving away more stuff. I thought we had been keeping up a pretty good packing pace. A little boxing up here, a little throwing out stuff there, and voila! The last week to pack is upon us. No big deal, right?


Three nights ago was a Monday night which means it was an ew, gross night. Mondays are long and this one was made longer by the kind of Monday-ness that was going on this past Monday. Catch my drift? We ate some din din, hardcore finished the kitchen and the pantry, and had plans to finish the china cabinet. I was rocking out to my music, stopping for the ever-so frequent dance party when Ricky started to get stressed. I could tell he was stressed because he was laughing at me in the haha oh you're dancing? WHY ARE YOU DANCING WHEN WE SHOULD BE PACKING? kind of way. I ignored the jaded laugh because I mean, it was Monday and I wanted to dance. I also wanted to eat Freddie's leftover birthday eclair because yummy so I had plans to sit on my booty and eat that eclair as soon as we were done for the night.
My view from the couch. Err, I mean from packing stuff around the couch. 

Except we were never done for the night. Never! The work is never done! <<what Rick sounded like that night. Freddie started listing off everything we still had to pack and wanted to take me on a walking tour of the apartment so we could see his list in person, but the thing is....we didn't need to take a walking tour because I knew everything that is left and we are fine.

We are fine. 
We can sit down and eat some eclair for a break. We don't have to work until midnight. We don't have to box up all our underwear because I would like to have some to wear until the weekend. Because we will be just fine come this weekend.
And I promise not to freak out to him if we aren't fine. Because stopping to eat some eclair will have been worth it. 

And that, my friends, is the story of how Freddie and I upped and switched personalities after one year and one month of marriage. 

September 23, 2014

it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Ever since Freddie moved into this apartment in July 2013 we've heard the rumor that Darius Rucker lives in the small neighborhood behind our complex. Some locals said Yeah, das right to that rumor so Freddie and I have enjoyed stalking driving around picking out which house we think is Mr. Rucker's.

Oh, that one is huge. Totally his.
This one has a security gate. It's got to be his.
No, no this one! Look at it! So fancy. That's obviously a Darius house.

And then some local paper did a feature on the decor in the Rucker home and 1) spoiler alert: it's beautiful and 2) we figured out which house it is and 3) we were totally right with our first house guess. 

 Here we are one year and two months later and we have yet to see our friendly neighbor Darius. We have yet to be invited to his neighborhood parties, more like.  We always hear of Darius sightings at Publix (the Publix we shop at multiple times per week). Nope, never a Darius sighting there for we common Weiss folk. We always hear of Darius sightings at Target (the Target that is right next to the studio where I teach). Nope, never a Darius sighting there for we common Weiss folk. Not even a Darius sighting when I go for my s-l-oooooo-w run through his neighborhood. Home boy likes to hide, obviously. 

Well, no sighting until this past Sunday, that is.
That's right. 
We common Weiss folk are now some not-so-common Weiss folk/best friends with Darius Rucker folk. 

Let me set the scene for ya.
We were driving back home after a weekend full of 30 year old birthday partying. Read: it was a crazy weekend. Bodies were tired, brains were achy, and stomach were hungry. As we turned onto our street we noticed we were behind a rather large tour bus. 
Ummmmmm, hey Darius. 
Suddenly bodies and brains and stomachs weren't so important because following the bus was important. We not-so-creepily passed our complex, turned the corner and watched the bus back up to Darius' house. In order to look like just a regular 'ole neighbor who was used to Darius and big tour buses pulling up on a Sunday, we did one lap around the cul-de-sac and came back around. 

And there was Darius. Stepping off the bus with a baseball cap on his head and little bag on his arm. No big deal. Just another Sunday Funday. 

Eeeeeeeek!!!! and squeal!! And clapping and no freakin' ways being said! 
Then we realized the windows were rolled down and suddenly we didn't look like the regular 'ole living-by-Darius neighbors. 

Who. Cares. The week we move 4 miles across town is the week we finally saw Darius Rucker and all is right with the world

September 19, 2014

five ways to tell that it is "fall" in the south

I'm so glad it's almost fall for most of you and yadda yadda yadda. Really, I'm so glad. But here in the low country it is still 90 degrees (give or take a few extra 10 degrees) and while I'd love to pull on my jacket for a nippy evening walk, that just ain't happenin' until...December? January? 

Since we poor beach folk don't have the weather to knock on our doors and tell us when fall is coming, we have to get creative and figure out other ways to tell the changing of the seasons...

Everyone else is Instagramming pictures like this:
...while I'm still going outside wondering if I have to wear a shirt. Or even pants. Do sundresses work year round? No? Wait, it's not June?

Hobby Lobby has Christmas stuff on display.
Oh, der, that just means it's the end of July. Not fall. My bad.

Everyone in the whole wide world is going gaga over Pumpkin Spice Lattes from Starbucks and/or all pumpkin flavored food items from Trader Joe's.
I'm going gaga over ice cold water and AC. No food needed. Buuuut, I will take some chocolate. 

Jackets are coming out as accessories used for layering. 
Jackets are out and have been out because it's so dang cold indoors with the AC blasting. 65 degrees inside and 105 outside. 

Meanwhile the leaves are turning beautiful warm colors and falling to the ground with a crispy landing.
...and over here the palm fronds stay the same. Nobody is running around stepping on the crunchy fallen palm fronds, that's for sure.
Palm fronds in the winter. Ice, ice, baby. 

Happy weekend!
Linking up with Amanda, Karli, and Lauren.

September 18, 2014

30 years

Happy 30th Birthday to dude with the best laugh.
To man who stretches out his legs and points his toes just to show off how sexy they are.
And to further prove my theory that he would make the best ballerina man.

To the guy who wants nothing more in life than a good back and head scratch. And for his wife to not cut her fingernails (ew).
It's the little things, people. 

To the Freddiehusband who wrote the sweetest wedding vows. Vows that included his promise to sing and dance with me every day. 
Except he won't sing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with me...
To the boy roommate who puts up with my nicknames for him. Rick is the latest one. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiick! 

To the chef who cooks delicious feasts and loves every second in the kitchen.  

To the 30 year old who still knows how to have fun like a <insert younger age> year old. 
I felt creepy saying anything younger than a 10 year old. And we all know teenagers don't know how to have fun. 
Happy Birthday, Freddie (Rick)!
I love you a lot more than just 30 years worth of lurve. 
Now...let's eat some cake. 
30 years worth of cake, that is. Muah!

September 15, 2014

lessons learned from a weekend

Sometimes in life you just have to suck it up and buy the pixie pants at J. Crew.

And take a Pure Barre class to wake up your tiniest ab and booty and leg muscles that you haven't felt in years and/or ever. Lift and hold. And tuck and freeze. And bend stretch. And...ow. 

And have a dinner/game night/slumber party with your friends.

And buy the chocolate covered pretzels from Trader Joe's because...well, yum

That up there ^^ that was my weekend. It was a glorious one. 

Now it's Freddie's birthday week. We're not talking just any birthday week, we're talking his 30th birthday week. 

30 years! 
Tear, they grow up so fast.
Here's hoping our future children are just as cute as little Frederick. Fingers crossed. 

September 12, 2014

friday favorites

Friday, you are such a tease. You know everyone loves you, you know everyone waits painfully for you to finally make your appearance each week, yet you still only decide to show up once a freaking week. 


With that being said, I took over the ever-so-complicated task of coming up with some favorites from this past week. I mean, how can someone have any favorites from regular week days that aren't Fridays?? I know, it's shocking, but I guess the regular 'ole week days aren't too bad... (spoiler alert: we all know they are bad).

Favorite Picture
This. This. This. 
Apparently I posted this precious photo (of my precious grandfather as a child) on Facebook 7 years ago (thanks again, Time Hop, I like you almost as much as I like Fridays). Cutestthingever. <<meant to be read with a baby voice and no breaks in between words. 
I'm sorry, I just have to share again.
Apparently I miss my grandfather? Time for another Georgia trip. 

Favorite Book
I'm not sure how to answer this one, but I know how not to answer it. 
According to my Kindle I'm about 50% through it and about 99% of me does not want to finish it.
1) Why am I reading about people having to get tortured and hurt and they like it? I mean, I've seen Iron Man and what the terrorists made Tony Stark do. This is the same thing, right?
2) ^^see above. I'm tired of it.
3) ^^see above. Why do I like reading about people getting beat up and tested all day, every day? I don't.

Favorite Find
With our impending move down the street we've been going through box after box of my our stuff. Holy Laughing Crying Face Emoji, best entertainment ever. Freddie does not like to stop and read every little ridiculous thing I wrote as a child and I do like to stop and read every little ridiculous thing I wrote as a child. This is where compromise comes in to play. Just kidding, there's no compromise. We I sit there and flip through every page of my childhood books and notebooks while Freddie sits there wondering why he married me. 
3 things:
1- "flipity flopity" <<always use when needing extra words for a rhyme scheme. 
2- Three things I most certainly no longer want to do in my life.
3- Retrefer dogs. 'Nuff said.

Favorite Song
Breezeblocks by alt-J.
Weirdest, yet most intriguing music video (and lyrics, most likely). It's definitely no T. Swift Shake It Off video. But since I never really know the real lyrics to any song and I only share the video with others in amusement this is on repeat in my house. And car. And earbuds. And brain.

Favorite Freddiefriend Face
My sister's favorite new thing to do is to crop out our ridiculous faces from outtake Cali pictures and Snapchat them to me with crazy captions. It's a fun game, really. Try it (but with your ridiculous face pictures, not mine. Obvi).

What are your favorites from the week? Slash what's your favorite Freddiefriend face?! Wink.

Happy Weekend!
Linking up with Lauren, Amanda, and Karli.

September 9, 2014


My mom cannot be surprised. She just can't. She always figures it out. She always knows what we've gotten her for Christmas. She always knows what is going on with everyone everywhere. It's just the way she is.
MC has perfected the fake surprised look. 

I found the tiny crack in her just try and surprise me armor and I was able to throw one on her. But let's start at the beginning. 

My women-don't-fart-belivin' mother was cast in a play in which her character is the complete opposite of the women-don't-fart mentality. Let's just leave it at her character was a therapist who was willing to use just about any means possible to de-homosexualize her gay client (read: my mom was in a brassiere) (read: I spent the whole scene staring at her chest and wondering how the nunga nunga gene skipped me entirely). Something I had to see, obviously. 

So I told my sister and my sister only, begged her to keep her lips shut, came up with a plan, and by 5:30 on Friday Freddie and I were sneakily headed to Georgia. 

...except my mom always figures things out. Remember that part?

I was sure she knew what was going on when she asked me if I was delivering her merde gifts in person. 
Nope, she didn't know.

I was sure she knew what was going on when I had stress dreams in which she saw me and said something like Pfsh, nice try Emily. I knew you were going to come. 
Nope, she still hadn't figured it out yet.
who has stress dreams about surprising their mom?!

There we were Friday night. Slowly plugging along to GA when I get a text from my uncle:
Hey, Freddie's brother and his wife are sitting a few seats down from me at Taco Mac. 
Followed by a text from my sister-in-law:
Your uncle is at Taco Mac sitting near us!
Followed by another text from my uncle:
You and Freddie are on your way to Georgia?!?! Why didn't I know??

Apparently Taco Mac is the place to be on a Friday night in Newnan, Georgia. Especially if you are part of Freddie or Emily's families. Use that piece of information how you see fit (aka: if you are cool, you'll be at the Newnan Taco Mac every Friday night). I quickly explained to my uncle that we were surprising my mom and to keep quiet about it. An hour passes. Then I get this text from my sister:
Jimmie and Jessica are at Taco Mac?!?! is mom. Aren't you staying with them tonight?? Where are y'all??? 
(yes, my sister uses that many punctuation marks when texting) (so do I). 

Somehow in the midst of this comedy of errors at Taco Mac, no one slipped up and said that Emily and Freddie were an hour away on 85 South. Miraculously, even though my mother wondered where Jimmie and Jessica were off to when they left (hint: to meet us), MC never thought it was because we were in town. The surprise gods were so on my side that night. 

And that's why as she came inside after a walk on Saturday morning and saw me laying in my sister's bed she was actually, factually, amazingly, genuinely surprised. Which was obvious by the who the heck are you and why are you here look I got before she started screaming.

Great. Success.
So if you take anything away from this story take that you should always go for a surprise, even if it involves stress dreams. Also remember to take pictures because I went to surprise my mom and all I came back with was this picture with my sister.
hashtag: oops. 

September 5, 2014

fashion five on a friday

Lately I've been spending a lot of time on Pinterest. We are talking a lot of time here. Something about the changing of the seasons (which means here in SC maybe it'll go from 110 degrees to 90), or something about moving and cleaning out my closet (now I'm down to way too many items instead of an insanely absurd amount of items), but I'm all about outfit inspiration these days. That means I've been looking at a lot of pins/websites/blogs with a lot of pictures of fashion bloggers.

And I've been noticing a trend of how these models/bloggers/gals stand in their outfit pictures. 
And I've been realizing it bugs me.
Maybe it's just my inner jealousy demon coming out because there will never be half decent pictures of myself in half decent looking clothes, but mostly it's because I wonder how these "poses" were thought of/decided upon. 

Pose #1
The Pigeon Toed Penguin Pose
As a ballet teacher, I spend about 75% of my work day talking about turn out--turning out from your rotators and not from your feet. I talk about not hurting your knees and hips. I talk about not sitting in the "W" position. We want our hips to develop correctly. Not to develop in a way where it makes it impossible and painful to walk normally. So no, I cannot get down with this pose. Also because how many times do we see people stop and stand like this? Hopefully never. 
I do like this booties outfit though...Hmm, how can I copy it?

Pose #2
The Flamingo Pose
or The Is That Gum On The Bottom Of My Shoe? Pose
or The I Have Good Core Strength Pose

Pose #3
The Who Me In This Old Thing?! pose

Pose #4
The Headless Outfitman
I can't say much about this one because whenever I send the Hey, are you sure this looks okay? text to my sister I usually send a picture with my face cut out because...that's a whole other rabbit to chase in the does this look okay? world. And I get wanting to show the small details of the outfit, but...but still. 

Pose #5
The Why So Serious Pose
Smile, you look pretty.

PSA 1: I want all of these clothes. Really that military vest with the lace top and statement necklace? Gimme.
PSA 2: I'm obviously just jealous that I turn into a braces faced pre-pubrescent smiley child when a camera comes near me. 

Happy Weekend!

September 3, 2014

currently: no sleep edition

This blog post, obviously. Oh, you want to know what I'm actually factually handwriting? That would be anything and everything in list form. My current lists include: groceries, outfit ideas (so cliche and girly. so what), ideas for packing (yes, we're moving to a new apartment), and other random to-do things like thank you notes and e-mails to parents. Phew. 

Remember ^^ up there when I said we are moving into a new apartment? I'm anticipating that. And decorating said new hardwood floored apartment. I'm in love. I mean, I see an IKEA trip needing to happen in the near future. I also see us needing to win the lottery before that IKEA trip. So yes, I am anticipating winning the lottery. 

Our friends, Paul and Brian (otherwise known as our wedding coordinator and videographer), were in town for Labor Day weekend and they showed us a good time. Isn't that backwards? They got us out and partying in the city. I haven't stayed up until 2am in awhile. I haven't stayed up until 2am 3 days in a row in a longer while. And if that picture of Brian partnering me in the middle of a dance club at 2am doesn't explain what fun we got into this weekend then I just don't know how to explain it. Read: lots of wine. 

Leotard and tights. Forever and always. Amen. 

Jeni's ice cream. Forever and always, again. I had it Sunday night and by Monday morning at 7:30 I was ready for more. I mean, my thought is if I'm going to run and exercise 6 days a week then I am totally allowed to eat ice cream every day (<<reason #35 why I am not a nutritionist or personal trainer).

Linking up with Jenna and Anne!


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...