December 9, 2016

friday favorites: the all things tex-mas edition

Deck the blogs with lots of Christmas related posts
Fa La La La La La La Laaaaaaav-ly

If I could just read and write all things Christmas related blogs year-round then you could definitely count me in for the 5x-week posting type of blog gal. But since my following would drop from fifteen to about six I'll stick to just posting Christmas related things for the next five two weeks.
Favorite Christmas Song //
Picking just one would be too hard (okay fine, Silent Night), but I will tell you my Favorite This Is Not A Christmas Song song: My Favorite Things. Yes, the song from The Sound Of Music. And also yes, you are correct, The Sound Of Music is definitely not a Christmas movie. 

Why in the world did this song get on all the holiday stations? Is it because it talks about packages tied up with string? How did the put-on-holiday-playlists people know that this is a Christmas package that the song is talking about? They don't. You don't. We don't. No one knows that. For all we know they are talking about a birthday package. Or a graduation package. Or a hey-it's-a-Tuesday-so-enjoy-this-package-tied-up-with-string package. 

Favorite Christmas Tree //
Forever and always the giant tree my family gets every year (pic above, duhz). God bless weird Brady Bunch looking houses with tall ceilings. Tall ceilings = taller Christmas trees. 

Favorite Santa //
Oooooh, another hard one. If you were to ask Freddie this question he would say the Billy Bob Thornton Santa from Bad Santa. That makes me want to cry and not associate myself with Freddie anymore so for the sake of my marriage we will A) not ask Freddie this question and B) go with either the Santa who gives Kevin Tic-Tacs in Home Alone OR Tim Allen from The Santa Clause. But only once he's fattened up and orders a sundae at his work lunch meeting. 

Favorite Ridiculously Wonderful Christmas Song //
I worked at Gap for a holiday season, and this ^^ song would play all. the. time. It's my Christmas jam for sure. Listen to it once and I promise (with the strength of at least fifty pinkies) that you'll never forget it. 

Favorite Christmas Vacation Moment //
This is the part of the post where I admit that I never watched Christmas Vacation growing up. Never. Freddie views this movie as kind of a rite of passage into the holiday season meaning it's not Christmas until you've watched Christmas Vacation at least three to four times. Needless to say I've seen it a lot. Probably just as much if not more than I would have seen it if I had actually grown up watching it. This all leads me to my point---my favorite part(s) of that movie are any and all parts in which Uncle Eddie gets to talk. 

The End. 


Happy Christmas-y Friday!
Linking up with Karli and Amanda

December 7, 2016

a very, merry christmas apartment

It's that time of year again. The time of year when we Texans go Christmas tree shopping...while wearing shorts and flip flops. So yes, it IS the most wonderful time of the year because the cold sucks, and Texas is not cold. Ten points for Team Texas.

^^did I really just call ourselves Texans?! Big gasp on that one. 

As all normal human beings do, we turned up the Christmas style in the apartment the day after Thanksgiving. Excuse me, we got turnt on Christmas decor <<<isn't that what the cool kids say these days? Should I Urban Dictionary turnt before adding it into a post? We're really big on the $30 live Christmas trees from the Kroger parking lot. Like really big into that. It's kind of our thing, and one day when we live in a real house and not an apartment I'm kind of hoping the sweet Kroger parking lot Christmas tree men let us get one of the 12-foot trees for $30, too.

A girl can dream.
spoiler alert: this year's $30 tree was definitely under 12 feet. 

If I've learned anything from being married to Freddie it's that fir Christmas trees are not acceptable. Every year we go through the same thing. Rick wants to get our tree from the Kroger parking lot. Rick doesn't want a fir tree. Rick forgets that almost no one has pine Christmas trees anymore. Rick can't make up his mind about what to do. Rick takes a long time deciding what to do. Rick gets lucky and finds a couple random pine trees in the mix. Rick wins. Fast forward 365 days and repeat all over again.

I digress. This post is supposed to be all about be opening our home to you so you can judge our Christmas decor, and not about my husband's weird affinity for pine Christmas trees. So without further words ado, welcome to our Christmas home!
Oh what's that? I need more Christmas stuff on this wall? I agree. 
I don't know why it's taken me so many years to throw ornaments in all the bowls around the house, but I'm an ornaments-in-bowl convert. 
There are few things in life more peaceful than twinkly Christmas lights.
Well, a present with a bow tie under the twinkly lit tree is also peaceful.
 Yes, Sparkle Santa and Google Home are very happy together. Thanks for asking. Ten days and going strong. #newrelationship
Aaaaaaaand that's about it other than little bitty odds and ends on all the shelves. Literally all of the shelves. We're leaving for Georgia in one week so we kept the Christmas decor vom down to a minimum this year, and I am a-okay with that because Christmas in Georgia with the fan dam is all I need. 

Also we're working on getting Lupe antlers like Max so don't even worry. 

This dream can soon become a reality. 

How do you decorate for the big day?!

Christmases past:
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December 2, 2016

a very, merry, sticky christmas

Every Christmas I run into the same exact problems.

Do I make my own gift tags or buy the cute ones at Target?
Do I buy the cute tags or buy the almost-as-cute $1 ones at Target?
Do I pay extra and get our return address printed on our Christmas card envelopes?
Do I pay to buy an oh-so-trendy handmade stamp for our Christmas card envelopes?
Do I send Christmas cards this year?
^^^HA, big fat JK on that one. Of course we have to send Christmas cards this year and every year. Wink. 

A-n-y-w-a-y-s, I'm sure you all completely understand my first world Christmas problems, and I'm sure together we can overcome such trials and tribulations.

Enter StickerApp. They help people like us overcome holiday panic! There's more time to trim the tree when you're spending less time hyperventilating the holidays (no? too far with the alliteration?).

When StickerApp contacted me about customizing my own stickers I A) said YES (in bold, italics, and caps lock, obvi) and B) knew this was my answer to all problems gift tag and Christmas card envelope related. Basically StickerApp was my Come to Jesus moment, and I'm so glad I saw the light.

Now for those of you who are also like me in that you have online designed a lot of photo books that sit collecting dust on your shelves, then you're in luck because designing custom stickers was a lot like designing photo books. Read easy and fun. One photo upload here, one resizing there, add in a text box or two, move everything around twenty times before you're satisfied, and voi-freaking-la you have a masterpiece.

I made these ^^^ stickers to use as envelope seals for our Christmas cards because who doesn't love a chance to quote Home Alone?! Spoiler for anyone reading this who is going to get a Christmas card this year.
And then because I was having too much fun procrastinating work by designing stickers I decided to add in some small gift stickers to the mix. Let's just say this Christmas is going to be off the charts trendy.

And that's the story of how stickers changed my Christmas game for the better. Have you tried StickerApp yet?!

I received products for my honest review, but I mean, come on, these stickers make my presents and envelopes look like the cool kids in high school. 
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November 30, 2016

happy camps-giving

There will be a bathroom there. I promise!

Famous last words, am I right? Oh I'm sorry, let me back up so you don't think I was scared to go in public in fear of bleeping my pants or something.

The very beginning of this story is that Freddie has been wanting to go camping. Actually the very, very beginning of this story is that I married a man who I thought was not into things such as camping in the middle of nowhere with no company but the bugs, however I was mistaken. Fast forward to just the very beginning and you'll find Freddie b-e-g-g-i-n-g me to go camping. All the time. For the past year.

It all started with a tent. After all, isn't that how most camping stories start? Freds researched and bought the best little tent that REI made, and then somehow within the next three to four months after that tent purchase we had a sleeping bag, lantern, flash light, and cast iron. All these hashtag camping necessities sat in our closet for months. And lemme tell ya, that's kind of where I preferred those items.

I tried my best to get out of camping. And listen, when I say I tried my best I really mean I pulled out all my tricks.

But you'd have more fun if you went with your male friends!
But I'll complain!
But we're busy for the next five weekends!
But I teach late on Fridays!
But you knew I wasn't an outdoorsy person when you married me! You want to divorce me?
But, but, but....

Pretty soon my brain ran out of but's and my butt was in the car on the way to a campsite. A campsite that was secluded enough so we could be away from light pollution, but also not so secluded that there wouldn't be a toilet and/or help for when the scary bad guys came to get us in our tents. <<<I've seen enough scary movies (read about three) to know that camping by yourselves in the middle of nowhere is stupid because the bad guys will find you and you will not survive (can you already tell how much fun Freddie must have been having at this point?)
fact: you can see about thirty-trillion-bazillion more stars out in the boondocks than you can in the city of Houston. 

Spoiler alert: The toilet was on the other end of the campsite so thank goodness I practice Pilates and can squat. That's enough about that.

Now listen here, it pains me to say this (like what I must assume is childbirth level pain), but I kind of had fun.

Freddie's somewhere at work reading this saying, "I told you so!" for the fifty-sixth time since we've been together. Fifty-sixth millionth time, that is.
We had a tiny, sandy, muddy spot right on the Colorado River. Lupe loved running off. Freddie loved going to get some more wood for the fire (seriously, I think he said that a total of twenty times and didn't even sit down more than five minutes that night) (men, insert eye roll) (take away eye roll because that firewood kept me warm). I loved eating s'mores. Coyotes loved howling. Cows loved moo-ing. And well, everyone had just a dandy time in camp land.
fun fact: I skipped a rock TWICE. First time I've ever successfully thrown and skipped a rock before so uh, where's my trophy?
Stay tuned for the next Weiss family vacation when we go camping again to a spa. Wink.

Have you ever squatted in the woods before? Excuse my manners, have you ever gone camping before?
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November 23, 2016

blessed not stressed

Well dudes and dudettes, somehow the Earth managed to rotate a whole 366 times, and we meet again on a Thanksgiving day.

I really can't believe it. Sometimes I think I'll wake up and it'll be Thanksgiving 2029 already (and I'll be rocking the age of forty, obvi), but that's neither here nor there.

As with every Thanksgiving, it's time for a thankful post. As with every Thanksgiving thankful post, it's time to skip the obvious things for which I am thankful and dig deep to find some not-so-obvious things for which I am thankful.

This Thanksgiving I am so #grateful #blessed #notstressed for...
thankful blog
Josiah from Planetary Bicycles
Because he found and picked up Lupe (he called Lupe "Beans," but we'll forgive him) and gave him to us. Josiah, you're an angel. Lupe, you're the best.

Concealer
Because during this Great Acne Breakout Of 2016, I have been able to leave the house looking only mostly red vs. entirely red. Thanks, concealer.

Cheese
Because cheese. #worththestomachcramps

Clorox wipes
Because sometimes deep cleaning is hard, and a quick Clorox wipe wipe down will do the trick. The term sometimes here refers to mostly all of the time, just to clarify.

Target's dollar section
Because where else could I stock up on cute as a button $1 cards that just sit in a drawer in our apartment because I never remember to send them?!

Costco
Because samples.

The dude in the sandwich line at Central Market 
Because he informed me my book of stamps had fallen out of my purse. I need that book of stamps in case one day I remember to send the $1 cards I got in the Target dollar section! !! !!!

The Pilates mat exercise, Jackknife
Because it is the most humbling/omg-why-don't-my-muscles-work Pilates move ever.

My giant drying rack from IKEA
Because finding creative places to drape clothing gets harder with each load of laundry.

Southwest flight attendants
Because how are they always so happy and hilarious?! And why haven't other airlines caught on...

Happy night before Thanksgiving!
May your sweet potato casseroles be as sweet as your faces. 

November 16, 2016

when i'm wrong

So here's the thing...

one of my many flaws quirks is that I very adamantly dislike things. When Sperry's were all the rage back in 2007, I made fun of them. Loudly. When everyone was romping around town wearing rompers back in 2010, I laughed. When Freddie asked me to go bike riding with him from the years 2011-present, I wrote blogs about how much I disliked biking. 

The second half of that quirk up there is that after I loudly pronounce my distaste of things, I eventually take a complete 180 degrees turn and suddenly like and enjoy all the things I formally disliked.  This means that in 2008 I bought Sperry's and proudly wore my shoes of the boat nature. In 2011 I wore a romper. As a matter of fact, I wore one again this past Saturday night. #longhairdocare 

This all also means that I, Emily, have been the one asking Freddie to go on bike rides recently. Talk about the worst! <<<me being the worst, that is. Also we aren't talking about bike rides like biking-around-the-park-by-our-house bike rides, we're talking about long-butt-biking-to-the-complete-other-side-of-the-giant-city-of-Houston bike rides. 

I can't really put my finger on what made me change my mind about bike rides, but let's just say it's in my nature to change my mind. Speaking of nature, maybe the fact that Mother Nature finally brought fall to Houston (read 78 degrees weather) helps a bit. Ain't nobody got time to bike in 100+ degrees weather, but somehow everybody has I have time to bike in non-dying-of-heat-exhaustion weather. 

Oh! Oh! Another fun thing I realized...you can bike TO places. Mind-blowing, I know. 

Places that serve wine. 
Places that serve $1 mimosas. 
Places that have pizza.
Places that have...my heart (Since apparently I am fueled by alcohol and food) (I promise I do more than eat) (Like Pilates) (I do that almost as much as I eat). 

Anyways, things we learned from this post. 1) Biking is kind of fun now. 2) Let's pretend I never hated it. 3) Freddie loves my flaws quirks a lot. 4) Let's all go biking together sometime. 

More scenes from Recent Rides with Rick...

Dear Freddie Ricky Bobby, I'm sorry I was so annoying about bike rides. Now where should we bike this weekend?
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November 4, 2016

just breathe

Well, hello there. Hi!

I feel like I'm finally back at school after a long sickness absence (think mono length) and the teacher is calling role, and I finally get to say PRESENT! or HERE! or whatever kids are saying these days.

Oh, what's that? Nobody calls role anymore because it's 2016 and #technology? Cool.

Today's post is about to get real. Really real. I've spent the last three weeks slowly crumbling into a deep, dark pit of anxiety. Add in some stress, self-hate, second-guessing, overthinking, and a dollop of insecurities and you've made an Emily (plus so many other people in the world) (I want to hug all of you).

A dollop of sour cream is soooo much better than a dollop of insecurities. 

I've always been a worrier by nature. Oh my gosh, what if we are late?! Freddie, turn down the music? Will the world end if I don't make the bed this morning? Etc., etc., etc., but recently my worry has gotten on an elevator and gone up about 25 levels.

Full disclosure: I haven't made our bed once in the past three weeks. A) I think this has been the first time in my adult life when I haven't made the bed every morning. Insert big gasp <here>, B) That's how bad my anxiety felt. Crazy Emily couldn't even make the crazy bed. and C) The world didn't end, in case you didn't notice.

I won't bore you with the details of the dreary anxious place in my mind, but it's not pretty. You know what else isn't pretty? When you don't take care of yourself.  And after these past several weeks, I fully believe that part of taking care of yourself includes admitting things aren't great, asking for help, and hugging the crap out of your support system.

It's okay when you don't smile every minute of the every day. It's okay when you reach out to a friend or family member and be straight with them. Tell them what's going on. Tell them what sucks. Because you know why you have a family and have friends?! TO SUPPORT YOU. To encourage you. To love you. To show you grace. To give you a helping hand. To like your crazy. To make you nice playlists that calm you down. To help you make goals. To help you achieve said goals.

That's why these people are in your life, so use them! Because we aren't meant to go through life alone with no human connection.

End of story. End of rant.

Now let's see what my Camera Roll says has been going on in my life for the past several weeks...
^^^Lupe wanted some coffee.
^^^We bike around Houston so we don't feel as guilty for stopping for food like this along the way.
^^^Set-up for a private this week. Why haven't you tried Pilates yet?!
^^^Lupe knows no personal space and it's kind of the greatest. Except when you're really wanting personal space. Like when you're trying to type this blog post, for instance.

So there you have it. Anxiety + dogs + Pilates = my life. But my life also = an amazing support system, a cute as heck dog, and a Pilates teaching job where I get to teach something in which I fully believe. Now go take a few deep breaths, stand up nice and tall, and go conquer the crap outta this Friday.

Happy Friday!
Linking up with Amanda
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October 21, 2016

when meeting celebrities

Who here is a TLC fan?

Erm, let me specify---I'm talking about TLC the tv channel, not the I don't want no scrub TLC (However, I should also note that I also don't want no scrub either...)

The Learning Channel! Listen, I haven't had cable in about five years, and the only time I ever get sad about it is when a new Duggars special is on. Or when it's pumpkin patch season and Little People, Big World is on. Or when I see that The Little Couple's kids are growing up and I can't watch them be cute in their Halloween costumes. 

I also not-so-secretly love all the scandal involved around all the TLC stars. I learn a lot from The Learning Channel, like what not to wear AND what not to do in life. Read sign up for an Ashley Madison account. 

Basically life without cable TLC is hard. Really hard. 

Now if you're a true TLC fan (aren't we all?!), then you know that Bill and Jen from The Little Couple live in Houston. Hey! Guess what? I live in Houston, too! Jen works in the Med Center. Hey! Guess what! Freddie works in the Med Center, too! I've asked him one or eight times what he would do if he ever passed Jen while walking through the buildings. 

His response: who?

^^ that guy. How does he live life so unaware of the good things like TLC celebrities? I'll tell you what I would do if I saw Jennifer Arnold while walking around the Med Center----I would freak the freak out. Insert a stronger word choice on that second freak there, if you would like. 

Okay, so now that you have the necessary background information (my love for TLC = big),  I can tell you my favorite from this week!

Yes, you read that correctly. I am showing up to Five Freaking, Fantastically Fun Favorites on Friday with only ONE favorite. It's a good one. 

I went to the post office on Tuesday with one goal: get in and out as quickly as possible. I come from a small town in Georgia where going to the post office is like going to your old best friend's house and chatting with his or her granddad. The old men that work there are the cutest. They remember little details about your day, ask how your family is doing, make jokes about the stamp designs, and make the entire experience fun. As fun as a visit to the post office can be. Apparently post offices around the country do not all run like the post office in Newnan, Georgia runs, so I try to make my visits really quick so that I don't get homesick for my fake granddads back home (Horace, I'm talking to you)

So there I was quickly packing a box with lots of tissue paper when the door opened, and someone walked in. 

Here's the part of the story where I will tell it through GIFs because don't lie, GIFs do it better. 

I tiredly glanced over to the door.

When within .3 seconds of that tired glance I realized I was looking at Bill from The Little Couple. 

Me when I looked around and no one in the post office was giving a bleep about this celebrity. 

When I had to do a double take to make sure I wasn't hallucinating since no one else cared. Yep, it was Bill.

And finally, when I froze and the only thing I could think to do was be a stalker, grab my phone, and take this picture as he walked out. Don't worry, I covered it really well by pretending I was taking a picture of...the post office counter. 

And that's the story of how I failed as a human being, and didn't get my picture taken will Bill in the post office. Good news is I came out of that experience with this gem of a picture. 
Bill Little Couple

Happy Friday!
Have you ever had a celebrity encounter? And yes, TLC stars 100% count. 
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October 19, 2016

remember when

When I first started this blog back in 1997 (just kidding. But sometimes it does feel that long. Except no one would ever want to read eight-year old Emily's thoughts), I really just started this because I like to write. I like to write, I like to tell stupid, silly stories, and so one day Yippee! It's MLE was born and brought home from the hospital so that I could write down those stupid, silly stories.

Fast forward to 2016, and I feel like stupid-stories-telling-Emily has turned into Emotional Emily. Each and every time I come to this space I am word vomming lots of feelings onto your screen. How's that for a visual? 

Now, if you thought I was saying all of that to let you know I've feasted on ginger ale and saltines so that my word voms are gone then...I'm terribly sorry. I will still be word vomming on you today. I just wanted you to know that I know that you know I've become quite emotional lately. You know?
This past week and weekend we were traveling all over our old Charleston and Atlanta stomping grounds to celebrate some of our best friends getting married. About two years ago the Board of the Freddie and Emily's Friends Group had a meeting, and decided they all would be getting married within the next twenty to twenty-four months. Because of this decision, Freddie and I have had to step up into our new roles as professional wedding goers/bridal party people. As absolutely as insane as it has been to travel all over for so many weddings lately, I would not trade it for anything. Not even for a Dairy Queen blizzard which is something I cannot stop thinking about lately. That's how for serious I am. Looking back on these recent wedding fills me to the very tip of the brim with happiness and love. Weddings are such a joyous occasion, but they become quadruple to the max joyous when it is some of your absolute, without a doubt, been my friend for way too long, remember-when-you-wore-blue-mascara closest friends getting married. Every single time I turn into the sap from the biggest sugar maple tree you ever did see.

And this past wedding week was no exception. Throughout our travels we passed our first home together in Charleston, and all the places we used to spend our time as newlyweds. We ate at the same restaurants. We drove down the same streets. We shopped at the same Target (hashtag priorities). As if that wasn't enough for my overflowing-with-sap heart, we then traveled to Atlanta where we passed our old houses there. The houses we lived in when we were first dating and so in lurve. We passed the wine bar where Ricky took me the night he proposed. We passed some of the old places I used to teach dance back in the day. Day after day felt like walking down memory lane, and I. Loved. Every. Step. Of. It.

That's pretty much all I wanted to say... that and I think you should go take a walk down memory lane sometime soon, too. Whether that means flipping through a photo book you ordered with a 50%  off Snapfish coupon, but have never opened it once since getting it in the mail.

Or if that means stalking yourself on Facebook, and looking through all the pictures in which you've been tagged.

Maybe it means taking five seconds out of your day to stop and remember your favorite fall memory.

Or your favorite winter memory.

Or your favorite memory from any season.

Or maybe it's taking ten seconds to remember that one time you got the best hug of your life.

Or! Or or! The best kiss of your life.

Maybe it's cleaning out an old box and finding letters or cards.

It might even be driving a little bit out of the way on the way home just to pass a special place.

Whatever it is. Stop for a second. Remember for a second. Smile for a second (or two!). Because life is too short to forget the good stuff.

October 12, 2016

honey please

Well folks, just like that the TexAnn trip is over. Time is such a silly thing, and until someone invents a life remote control where I can click "slo-mo" on all events, I'll just be over here whining about how fast time flies. 

Every time I leave family or family leaves me I feel like I need to write some ginormously juicy and sappy post about how much family means to me, and why everyone needs to have their family. Their people. Their support group. And why everyone needs to hug on and kiss on and sometimes annoy the crap outta those people. 

However I'll spare you all my roller coaster of post-sister visit emotions and stick with something a little less emo (as the 2000's kids called it). 

Sidebar: I will say the highlight of the sister trip may have been when my friend Rachel, Ann, and I harmonized Bitch Better Have My Money, and sang it acapella style for our bartender. We are waiting for our record deal from that exchange. Or at least a free cocktail. Either one will do. 

Anyways, let's talk about something really important. Like really, really important.

Your skin. The skin on your face, to be exact. I've mentioned a few times here recently that my skin look horrendous lately. The phrase pizza face was not created because seeing a pimply face made one crave pizza. I think, in fact, that when you see a face covered in zits, a pizza face, that you want any food other than pizza. This is me warning you not to look at my face anytime soon if you are wanting to eat pizza in the near future. 

My sister has the facial skin of the butt of an angel doll baby. That is as smooth, fresh, and clean as her face looks at all times. I couldn't wait to get her secrets. Spoiler alert: she has no secrets. No, I take that back. Her secret is that her selfless, humble older sister took all the bad genes and left only beauty and grace for her. Insert smirk emoji right HERE. Three or four of 'em. 

Emily, I brought the honey mask!
We have to do the honey mask.
Let's do the honey mask!

These were phrases I heard Ann exclaim several times at the beginning of her trip. I passed it off because A) honey sounds sticky and something I only want on my pb sandwiches, and B) we were too busy exploring to stop and mask it up.

Have you ever gotten a really bad sunburn? And then gotten really excited to peel that really bad sunburn? If you are grossed out by the thought of peeling sunburn then stop reading this blog right here, and also maybe stop being my blog friend because HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE PEELING SUNBURN?! There is something so satisfying about peeling a giant chunk of skin off. Right? Right. Almost as satisfying as watching Medusa peel off her fake eyelashes in The Rescuers, but we can talk about fake eyelashes later.

Back to honey masks

Holy. All. Things. That. Are. Glorious. I cannot believe Ann didn't make me do this mask the SECOND we got back from the airport because it is 100% like peeling off sunburn.

And it is 100% satisfying. And 100% fun. And 100% something you should do.
Ann also 100% approved this picture to be on my blog. Not. 

Jury is still out on the magical zit-be-gone powers of it, but I will say that my skin, zits and all, felt almost as smooth as that angel doll baby's butt skin I mentioned earlier. Almost. 

This post is in no way sponsored, but Hey! Hey Honey! It should be! Because I screamed the most exciting screams as I peeled your mask offa my face. Over and out. 

October 7, 2016

TexAnn

By the end of the day I will (hopefully) be sipping on some wine and snuggling on the couch with my SISTER.

My sister! My younger-but-looks-older-and-is-the-coolest-human-ever sister is coming to big, bad Texas. Now I'm not quite sure what we will be doing seeing as the main things to do in Houston all revolve around eating, and my coolest human being of a sister is the world's pickiest eater...

Although who in his or her right mind wouldn't literally turn into the heart eyes emoji after tasting a fresh, Tex-Mex, melt-in-your-mouth tortilla?? Who?? Hopefully all of you are not in your right minds because that just means more tortillas for me. 

I digress...

In honor of today being National Emily's Sister Is Coming Into Town Day I thought it was only fitting that today's post be about my sister, too. Enter Five Reasons My Sister Is The Coolest. 

1) She takes and posts selfies like this and can actually get away with it. 
Meanwhile my selfie album is filled with gems like this...

2) She's the itty bitty baby of the family which means she's the brunt of most of the jokes. I will say 99.9999% of the time she brings it on herself. However 99.9999% of the time she's also a good sport about everyone poking fun of her, and even calls herself out before we/I get a chance. 

On that note, Ann has the handwriting of a five-year old trying to learn to write while their pet dog, Greta the Great Dane, is constantly nudging their arm and knocking them over. But she owns it.

Exhibit A:
circa 2014 in a birthday card from her to me. 

3) As seen in #1, she chopped off all of her hair for the second time in the past three years, and pulls it off better than Ted Mosby's red cowboy boots. HIMYM shout-out, anyone? Anyone?

4) When I say Ann is the youngest I mean the yoooooungest. In this instance, that many o's means she is almost six years younger than I am, and almost nine years younger than my brother. This meant she spent a lot of her childhood around our older friends which meant we were the nicest siblings and made her into our own little dress up doll. 
Meet Troy Bolton from High School Musical. I mean, Ann Bolton. I mean, my sister. 

5) She became obsessed with Lord of the Rings at an early age. Now, you might be thinking Emily! LOTR! That does not make her cool! It makes her #nerdalert!  To that I say...well, you are right. But she taught herself some Elvish and once upon a time three years ago she really, really wanted to come to Charleston to spend New Year's with me and Ricky when we lived there. Naturally we made her life more fun by insisting that she was not allowed to come until she spoke Elvish to us. 
She did it. She came to Chucktown for NYE in 2013. She's the nerdiest coolest. 

And now you know a bunch of random facts about a person you will probably never even meet. Which is your loss. So thanks (mom and dad) for reading this whole post!

Ann, get yer booty on that plane and come see these stars at night.

Happy Friday!

October 5, 2016

currently: the summer fall edition

This past weekend Houston gave us a taste of fall. It was glorious. The air felt nippy, the sun was shining, and my cardigan felt so nice against my non-sweaty arms. I couldn't believe it. Cooler weather, what! As I smiled with the kind of joy that only fall can bring, I happened to look down at my car thermometer. It read 83 degrees

83 degrees. That was our fall preview. That's what felt cool

And this is the story of how Texas and it's 106+ temperatures ruined me. 

Other than thinned out Texas blood, let's talk about what else is currently going on...
cheer-sing //
This time next week we'll be in my favorite place in the world getting ready for the wedding of some of my favorite people in the world. If you guessed Charleston as the place, you win ten gold stars. If you guessed that I'll be drinking champagne cocktails from Rarebit, you win twenty gold stars. If you guessed Andy and Katie as the people getting married, you win all the gold stars.

organizing //
My life. And by that I mean the guest bedroom closet, but don't you feel like your life is being organized when you clean out a cluttered drawer or closet or space? Yes? Good.

dreaming //
...of a white Christmas. That isn't gonna happen, but since I typed that, all I can think about is Christmas. So I'm dreaming of where I can put the Christmas tree in our apartment, and when I can walk up and down the Christmas aisles at Hobs Lobs without feeling like a lunatic (full disclosure: I walked down one Christmas aisle last week at the HL).

buying //
You now all know my deep, dark secret of having a pizza face. The beauty of blogging is that you don't have to see my face in real time so you didn't know I was suffering from the acne of a pubescent, sweaty 13-year old girl. At post-puberty, slightly sweaty 27-years old. No, I am not buying a new face. Yes, I am buying new concealer. No, I have no idea which concealer to get. Yes, I need all your recommendations. Thanks, Google friends.

listening //
I've only mentioned this two times on the blog, but if you've seen me in real life recently, then I've probably mentioned it two times two hundred times. Go listen to My Favorite Murder podcast right now. There's a fair amount of cursing, but if you like true crime and humor, then stop reading my blog and start listening to their podcast. Cover your ears if the bad words offend you, but uncover your ears for some of the craziest crime stories ever.

What have you been up to currently?
Linking up with Anne and Jacqui.

September 30, 2016

all about alliteration

I always feel like I have to write a post about fun things, favorite things, or five things on Fridays. 

Or fried things. Or funny things (well, I mean, that's all my posts. Insert smirk 'moji). Or finicky things. Or financial things. Or filibuster things. Or...you get the idea. 

Basically I feel like I'm not real blogger status until all my weekly posts contain some kind of alliteration. On that note...

Five Favorite, Funny, fThoughts fI've fBeen fThinking fLately fBecause fIt's Friday

1) Who else has the iPhone update? Who else has spent countless hours sending messages in invisible ink or with confetti bursting on the screen? But most important question of all, who else still swipes to unlock the home screen? Let's say since I updated the phone two weeks ago I've unlocked my phone 173 times. Let's also say that that means there have been 173 times during which I swiped my phone, it didn't unlock, it took me to the news, I started pressing buttons, I made it a mess, I didn't unlock my phone, and I swore I'd remember to double press the button the next time. Update: I wrote this post last night, and in these past 12 hours I have yet to successfully remember to double tap the button to unlock my phone. Once a failure, always a failure. 

2) I rearranged and cleaned our storage room guest bedroom yesterday, and I literally feel like I cleansed my soul. <<not really sure what that even feels like, but it sounds properly dramatic for how I feel/felt after rearranging. I told this to Ricky when he got home so he excitedly went to look in the guest bedroom. Aaaaaand then asked what was different. My soul, Ricky, my soul is different!

3) Thank the Netflix gods that season 6 of The Walking Dead was put on because now Freddie and I can continue our healthy marriage routine of binge watching shows every night instead of talking to each other. I use the term "watching" very loosely because the end of season 6 TWD is terrifying, and I find I have to stare at my phone, my nails, the dog, the blanket, the spec of dust under the shelves, and/or the print across the room and then act surprised that my eyesight is so horrible that I can't read it all before I can actually just watch the TV screen. 

4) Whenever people say they love Halloween I always think they are dramatically pausing before finishing that sentence with the word candy. It bewilders me when people say, "I love Halloween." instead of, "I love Halloween candy." 

^^This sentence is brought to you by my sticky-eating-ghost-gummies-fingers. 

5) Ricky and I did this thing this month where we tracked our spending by listing every single item we purchased. According to Rick we spent an ungodly amount on wine. Apparently our apartment complex has a wine robber because what else is the explanation to where all this wine is going? On a similar note, he did suggest we celebrate our figuring out how much money we spent on wine by going to Trader Joe's and buying some more wine so... is admission the first step of acceptance? Admission is the first step, and celebration is the second. 

fHappy Fabulous Friday!
May your day be filled with all things alliteration.
Photo taken last week at Gavelston. 

p.s.- Thanks for everyone's kind words and virtual head pettings on Wednesday's post! You all win. 

September 28, 2016

call your mom

I've been super mean to myself lately. Like Mean Girls mean to myself. Like I could have probably filled a burn book about just myself and then evil laughed at myself being mean to myself. 

I'm not writing this to get sympathy or to get anyone to say anything nice to me. Seriously. Heck! Write something mean in the comments if you want! Plz don't. What's the virtual equivalent of branding my hair and petting my head? Can you do that? Wink. I'm writing this so I can properly tell the story of how a regular catch-up phone call with my mom fixed everything. 

Spoiler alert: The moral of this post 100% will be to call your mother. 
But let's start at the beginning. Pre-catch-up phone call with my mom. Life has been really busy lately. I know I mentioned that here, and I also mentioned that I'm not quite sure why it's been so busy. I'm still stumped about that one. I feel like I'm being encompassed by a tidal wave, and I can't crawl out. But it's all in slow-mo. The slow-mo tidal wave of stress and anxiety is trying to grab me! Let me out! I just want to sit down and read, but feel like I never have the time to sit down and read. I want to plan all of my Pilates classes and sessions way in advance and rock them, but I feel like I don't teach the absolute, frickin' best I can some of the times. I want to re-do some stuff around the apartment. I want to write. I want to curl my hair some random day and just sit around with curled hair. I want to get dressed in real, non-lycra clothes. I want to workout. I want to punch insurance companies in the face for making me jump through hoops. I want not to have stress zits all over my face for the third month in a row. I want, I want, I want. 

I found myself lying in bed two nights ago telling myself that I was the worst. I told myself I was living a lie. Here I am spending 75% of my day each day telling women and men to love their bodies, and that by loving their bodies they should just get out and move. Doesn't matter what you do, just do something. Love your body and move your body. But then I was coming home, hating my body, hating my zitty pizza face and doing anything BUT moving and loving my body. Unless moving from lying on the right side of the couch to lying of the left side of the couch counts? No? 

You might be thinking, Hi Emily, there is medication and therapy to help with that! To that I say, enter my mom and this blog. Huzzah! I also say I realize 99% of everyone else in the world goes through the same thing so let's all huzzah! together. 

A few days ago, when I was armpit deep in my woe-is-me-pit-of-despair, a client mentioned that her college age son randomly called her over the weekend and it was such a nice surprise. They ended up talking for over an hour, and she looked so filled with joy just telling me about it. I was kind of embarrassed thinking about the last time I had called my mom. Sure, we text almost daily, but when did I call her and hear her voice last? So guess what I did?!

Nope, I did not call my mom. I went home and completely forgot about it. #bestdaughterever However yesterday morning I had already taught two sessions, and it was only 8am. I grabbed my ear buds and took the dog out for his morning walk. I opened up my Skimm email to read, but after reading the first two sentences about the big debate I rolled my eyes, closed it, and called my mom instead.

Best decision ever. I didn't whine and complain about life (too much...). I didn't tell her all about my fake burn book about myself and how I thought I hated myself right now. We just talked. Talked about everything. I talked. She talked. We laughed. We caught up. By focusing on good things, by listening all about my mom being a badbleep with her job, by focusing on literally anything other than my ridiculous self pity I suddenly started to feel better. The slow-mo tidal wave of stress and anxiety was starting to go in reverse and leave me alone. We hung up, and I couldn't help but smile. 

So you know what? Sometimes when life feels really, really big and stressful, and that tidal wave is coming for ya, just call your mom. Call her! Or your dad. Or your best friend. Or your sibling. Or you dog sitter's mother's aunt. Call someone, hear someone's voice, listen to them, talk to them. Focus on that, and suddenly the little, good, happy things in life feel a whole heck of a lot more important than that ridiculous pit of self hate. 

In the words of J Biebs, Love Yourself. And he even talks about his momma in that song, so I think he wants you to call your mom, too. Over and out. 

Love you, Mom!
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