on mushiness

Do you get really mushy when returning home from trips? 

Mushy meaning emotional, not mushy like you feel fluffy from eating too much. Although that is also a way I feel after trips...

This mushiness, without a doubt, hits me like a ton of bricks on every plane ride back home from a trip. It starts small: a fun memory from my past trip will hit me and I'll smile. Just a faint hint of a smile, but from there it's a domino effect. A full-force domino effect. One memory turns into two which turns into my replaying all my favorite moments from said trip which turns into my replaying ALL moments from the trip. 

Take this past weekend trip, for instance. It was a trip for a bridal shower and bachelorette party for one of my dearest friends and college roommate, Ruth. There's something about being back with close friends that just resets your life and makes you feel complete and whole again. BUT there's REALLY something about being back with close friends all while getting to celebrate love, impending marriages, and big exciting life changes that will reset your outlook on life and love to an entire new level. 

And that's what this past weekend was. Insert lots of exclamation points here !!!! It was a reset and a reminder that life is puhretty flippin' fantastic, thanks for asking. It was also a rather not-so-gentle reminder that my friends and I are way too spread out across the country. That was a mean reminder. It was also a reminder that when one of your friends is marrying such a wonderful guy that there will most definitely be tears involved. Tear, laughs, laughs, laughs, tears, wine, wine, laughs, wine, tears. In that order-ish. That was a wonderful reminder. 

My domino effect plane ride on Sunday night went from one happy memory, to two, to my replaying the weekend, to thinking that the universe knew what it was doing when it put Ruth and George together in London, all the way to somehow suddenly wanting to cry because I was so happy that I married Freddie and was/am excited for what's to come. For us and for everyone. Heck, I was even happy to see what's to come in the future of the screaming baby next to me. Don't ask how I got from Point A of happy bridal shower memories to Point T of wondering what kind of luck it was Ruth and George met to Point LL of being happy I married Freddie to Point ZZ of being excited for the screaming baby's future, but it happened all within about ninety seconds. 

Did I mention I was also reading Me Before You during all of this? So, you know, the force of wanting to cry was strong with this one me. 

So yes. Mushiness. Life is so damn good mushiness. I solemnly swear I had no alcohol, no drugs, and no PMS involved with said domino effect. It simply had to do with the black magic of a return home plane ride. I'm sure of it. 

Next time you're coming home from a trip, try to let the rising altitude make your brain cray and your heart happy. Trust me, just give in.

Ruthie-Poo, you. are. getting. married!!!!!!!!!!

rides with rick: the rainy one

This past Saturday marked a very special day for us: it was the day that was just far enough from my last bike ride day so that I forgot how much I hate bike riding, and I wanted to go for another ride. 

I told you it was a special day! Look, when you're married it's hard to celebrate every little thing-iversary, so we celebrate things like my suggesting we go on a bike ride. 

And Ricky, oooh boy that Ricky, he does this thing. This thing where we KNOWS and remembers just how much I dislike biking, but he gets so excited that I finally agree to go on a bike ride with him that he doesn't remind me of my said hatred. 

Off we went on Saturday, merrily riding along making comments like...

Wow! The weather is perfect for this!

Better take all the opportunities to be outside that we can in this partly cloudy and cool weather before the hot as ::insert profanity from Freddie:: summer comes. 

Oh, now it's getting a little hot...

Just kidding, man! That breeze feels awesome!

I hope you all read those quotes as excitedly as our voices were when we really said them. Because we were so excited! The sun was hiding behind clouds, the sky was still blue, and it felt awesome outside! Do you understand how rare it is to be comfortable while outside in Houston between the months of April to October?!

So we did what any we-are-so-enjoying-this-weather couple would do, and we went inside to drink. Makes perfect sense, I know, but how can you really enjoy a Saturday without a mimosa or two or lots more? You can't, so we had to sacrifice outside time to get inside time to get mimosa time. 

And that, that right there, stopping to get drinks, that was our downfall. That's when Mother Nature went from being on our side to being on our side-ish to being on our side....SIKE!

The ride back was about 3 miles. Once we hit 2.5 miles we realized that rain was imminent. Once we hit 2 miles the skies opened. Once we hit 1.5 miles we took cover under an awning and pretended it was our Noah's ark. Here's the thing though...Noah's ark floated. Our awning did not so we still had the problem of how we were going to get home. 

Cue the radar showing only orange and red over Houston.

Cue us opening our crackers from Whole Foods and having a rain picnic.

Cue us tapping our feet thinking the rain might lighten up.

Cue the rain not lightening up, but us running for it because it looked lighter. 

Cue two really, really wet people. 

Cue me being the genius that wore a white shirt in the "perfect" weather.

End scene. Insert your applause here. 

You know, today is a very special day, too! It's the day when I accepted that the universe taught me a lesson and maybe I shouldn't go riding with Rick anytime soon.

For past Rides with Rick adventure click here, and here, and here. 

friday favorites: being an adult is not my favorite

It's really hard for my brain to comprehend that it's almost June. Like really hard. Like when I try to comprehend it I want to hyperventilate because I realize that by next Thursday it'll be 2050 and I'll be sixty-one. TIME SLOW DOWN. 

In other-but-still-related news, let's look at...

one //

Milkshakes. That's all I've been wanting lately. A plain, ol' chocolate milkshake. It seems so easy. Go get a freaking milkshake already, Emily! 

Here's one reason why adulting is the worst: because you overthink milkshakes. Milkshakes, of all things! You overthink, second guess, and talk yourself out of them because calories, milk, bloatedness, and the fact that it's already hard enough to work out when you've been eating Brussels sprouts, so it'll definitely be hard to work out when you drink milkshakes. 

Screw you, milkshakes. 

two //

I went to the orthodontist this week and found out a whole slew of things wrong with my mouth. Did you know I have a narrow arch? I know, how embarrassing, right? My sister got the wavy hair, and I got the...narrow arch? Anyways, being an adult means deciding between if the extra money goes to new retainers, or it is goes to a trip this summer.

Sigh. If that whole paragraph isn't the perfect example of #firstworldproblems then slap my bleep and call me Sally!

three //

Ricky worked really late one night this week, and I found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen thinking, "Wait, didn't I get married just so I never had to feed myself again? How did I get here?" So I roasted vegetables. All by myself! I'm doing work in the kitchen equivalent to what the MasterChef Junior kids do before they can talk so... 

Freddie thinks I can cook now so we need to SHUT THIS DOWN, people. Pretend you didn't even read this paragraph. 

four //

Let's be real here, you don't always want to shower. Sometimes you want to hit snooze. Sometimes you want to have an extra glass of wine at night and not have to go to bed with wet hair. Sometimes you think that baby wipes might just do the trick for the time being.

And you know what, you do you. You wipe yourself down with a baby wipe and call it a day. Because being an adult and making yourself shower might be hard some days, but on the opposite side of that it's pretty great being an adult and getting to make your own decision not to shower sometimes. 

Oh, I'm sorry. Not everyone is as gross as I am? Cool, moving on. 

five //

I have six other tabs open on my internet browser right now, and they all have to do with deep cleaning my kitchen. 

'Nuff said. 

Happy Friday!

Linking up with Karli and Amanda. 

round 4 from the archives, hug your moms

**Originally posted May 18, 2015.

Musings from Saturday night:

My mom just left Houston. Freddie and I stopped for groceries. Now we're back and he's asleep on the couch. From the window I can see the sun setting over a cityscape. I'm up "high," six stories from the bayou, and as I look out at the big buildings and interstates I'm thinking...

holy poop, we moved. 

Transitioning is a silly thing to do. You get worked up, anxious, excited, worried, excited again, worried again, and all with a touch of fear. Sometimes it feels like time will never ever speed up, but then all of a sudden you blink and the time has passed. Suddenly you're in Houston, your mom is gone, and it hits you like a ton of bricks: you have transitioned. Successfully. It happened. You survived. The sun is setting. Tomorrow is another day. Shoot, in just a few days it'll be Christmas, I'm sure!

But for now let's go back to the mom leaving part and the transitioning part. I could not have done any of this transitioning without my mother. Well excuse me, that is a lie. Technically I could have done all of it, but it would not have been half as graceful or fun without my mother. And really, what is the point of living if it's not to do things with grace and enjoyment (and with your mom)?

My mom left behind her work, her dad, my dad, my sister, and her precious puppies to drive across the country with/for me. 

Then she drank with me on Bourbon Street.

Then she ate beignets with me.

Then she helped me unpack and decorate every inch of our new apartment.

Then she studied a map of Houston with me so we could act like we knew what the ham sandwich is going on in this city. 

Even when we said IKEA was east of the city when the map claimed it was west...

Then she got a tattoo with me because why not? Finding a tattoo parlor in a new city is just as important as finding a grocery store. 

Then she left.

And then I was left thinking, Dayum, I am really lucky when it comes to the mom department. Double dayum, am I going to be that rockstar of a mom/person some day?

Obvi, it's in my blood and all. Wink.

Hmmm, I guess what I'm trying to say is go hug your mom. Right now. Do it. Hug your mom or your dad or your friend or anyone who is amazing towards you. If you learn anything from this space of mine, learn that Mother's Day is every day and you should shower those you love with love and attention every day. Especially on the days when your mom drinks Hurricanes with you in NOLA. And the days she says Sure! Let's get a tattoo! And the days she drops everything to help you transition.

The End. 

friday favorites: the where's my personal photographer one

I spent all yesterday thinking it was Friday, and so far today feels like a Wednesday. So I'm looking forward to tomorrow feeling like a...Monday? 

Gag, a Saturday Monday would literally be the worst. 

May all your Saturdays be anything but Mondays. 

Favorite Song

I Believe In A Thing Called Love by The Darkness

Enjoy this crap video because it won't let me post the real weird video...

While driving around falling into the pothole-y roads in Houston this week, I found a CD my upper crust friend made for me with songs we looooooooved (add more o's) in middle and high school. This one made the cut, and it may have made me scream sing along in my car. Maybe. Probably. It'll definitely make you scream sing along right now. 

Favorite Food

Remember how Freddie and I were watching all the 007 movies and making themed dinners? And we were going to do a movie a week until we got through them all? And we started the first week in January? Guess what number we are on? Guess. We are in week nineteen and we are on movie...THREE. Three. Holl to the er, folks, because we are rocking twenty sixteen, obviously. 

Now here's why we are stuck on movie three. Title: Thunderball. Dinner: ummmmm, what? Meatballs and...thunder? We are stuck. So please advise, thank you. 

Favorite Houston Factoid

One year ago yesterday I arrived in Houston with my mom after a crazy month of Freddie being in TX, and me being in SC and GA and LA and then TX. 365 days DOWN. Many more days to go. Math is hard. 

Favorite Pilates Move

Remember that whole Real Life vs. Fake Life post? Well insert that thought process here because in FL I would have stayed up late last night to take Pilates blog pictures with my personal photographer who would either be my husband and/or a real life photographer who follows me around. However, in RL I did not stay up, I do not have a personal photographer (spoiler alert: I do have a husband), and instead I went to bed because I started teaching at 6am yesterday, and I was tired. The End. So enjoy this picture from a training weekend. Please also note that in FL I wear my matching Lululemon workout clothes to train in. In RL I wear this...weird...but comfortable ensemble. 

side note: unless you have a Cadillac, don't try this at home. But please do rotate your spine every day. 

Favorite Hug

Favorite hug(s) = plural = anytime with this dude.

Cue the awwwws. Awwwww.

Happy Friday!
Linking up with Karli and Amanda. 

when the bleep hits the fan. and your head.

Yesterday morning when I was walking Lupe, a bird pooped on my head.

And you know, it's not even that the bird pooped on my head that irks me. It's the fact that it had just finished raining, so I assumed the said drop on my head was a rain drop. I then proceeded to continue to walk Lupe, say hello to all the lovely neighbors of mine also walking their dogs, and get to the elevator before I went up to tuck my hair behind my ear, and I realized that what came off of my hair and onto my hand was not a raindrop. Oh no, it was a bird drop...ping.

This candid, but not at all candid blogger hair tuck pose looks a lot better when it's bird poop-less.

You know when you finish eating and continue to have a grand ol' time with your friends, then you look in a mirror anywhere from one to five hours later, and you realize you've had lunch in your teeth ever since. Then goes the conversation of WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME I HAD FOOD IN MY TEETH?! Then you break up with your friends because that is unforgivable. Just kidding. But seriously, why don't we just tell one another?! Not telling is forgivable (sigh, I guess), but the people who claim they didn't tell you because they didn't notice---?! That's what is unforgivable. Who doesn't notice green in the teeth of the people to whom they are talking? Even ventriloquists show their teeth when they are talking-but-not-talking. Come on, people! Of course you saw! Everybody shows their teeth when they are talking/laughing/thinking they are having a good time with their honest friends.

Because if society could just make it the norm for us to tell one another when we have food in our teeth then I'M SURE the next step to societal normalcy would be for people to tell me when the heck I have bird poop in my hair. Thanks for nothing, the three neighbors I passed on the sidewalk. You know who you are. You also don't know who I am, and don't read my blog so... 

Anyways, in case you were wondering, I washed my hair and have since managed to heal from this tragedy. Physically heal, that is. Obviously I'm not in a healed emotional state yet as the three above paragraphs prove.

So I guess I showed up here today to share something very important and meaningful with you...

ALWAYS tell people when they have food in their teeth, and bird crap in their hair.

The world will be a much better place.

#birdcraptwentysixteen #survivor

4320 minutes of nothing

Freddie was gone this past weekend. For a boy's weekend/fantasy baseball team/league/whatever it's called trip. 

Is it called a fantasy team or fantasy league? Why don't I know this? 

Anyways, I had the best plans for when he was out of town. The best! I started by going over to Trader Joe's to stock up on wine, and I left with wine, oatmeal, raspberries, and cheese. Apparently my "best plans" included eating cheesy oatmeal with raspberries on top? With a glass of rosé? <<I can get down with the latter part of that plan. 

And then suddenly I blinked, and I was heading to the airport to pick him up last night. 

Wait, where's all the stuff that was supposed to happen in the middle of the wine/oatmeal/raspberries/cheese buying and the airport picking up?! Why are my finger nails still naked and the laundry still not done?! Why isn't the dishwasher unloaded?! Why aren't the floors mopped?! 

Insert the part this weekend where I did manage to spend an entire hour just walking around Target. With nothing in my cart. And then I was paying at Target and let's just say there were suddenly things in my cart then. Ugh, this entire paragraph is so basic, and I love it. 

But let's go back to those dirty, not mopped floors. Because I'm still trying to figure out how I managed to fill up 4320 minutes, but NOT mop the floors. 

I went back to my Camera Roll to see if I could figure out what went down in the past 4320 minutes that felt like 4 seconds. Here is the evidence I found:

I took and very successfully passed a Sound Of Music quiz. Since I grew up watching that movie twice a day with my brother and mom, I would be embarrassed to receive any score lower than 100, and I'm actually kind of embarrassed that I didn't get a score higher than 100. Freddie, if you are reading this, I am quite angry with you for never letting me get my Do-Re-Me on in our house. 

During my hour of nothing in my Target cart/suddenly lots of things in my Target cart I sent this picture to my sister asking for help with which one would make my coloring look less ghostly and more pale and beautiful...

...and then I went against her judgment and tried on a completely different dress that turned me into a real life pear. Hello, hips! Nice of you to poke out 2 extra feet in your new dress. No, the dress didn't come with a Wide Load sign. 

sidebar: since I posted a dressing room selfie, does that make me a fashion blogger now?! #fingerscrossed #not

I had no less than eight pictures that looked like this. Apparently I thought that if I just kept trying my phone would take better far, far away pictures of the Houston Ballet performance last night? Spoiler alert: I think they kept getting more blurry. Spoiler of the Spoiler alert: no, it wasn't because of the rosé.

And finally, what's a wasted 4320 minutes of a weekend without one Lu-ster picture?! Lupe was my very best friend this weekend.

And if saying my dog was my very best friend doesn't tell you how thrilling my weekend was then...

Happy Monday! 

Hopefully you mopped your floors or accomplished something productive and equivalent to that. 

currently: the year is going by too quickly edition

You know how when you're reading blogs and everyone is like Oh em gee. Time goes so fast?! How is it already May?! I just drank some sparking cider this past New Year's Eve like last week! Giggle giggle laugh laugh and all that.

Well I'm here saying the exact same things today. Because seriously, it's May? May 2016? Are you sure? Because I know everyone else is saying this, but I literally was just cheers-ing  (real wine, not sparkling cider crap though...) the beginning of 2016 last week. I swear. Not like everyone else means it when they swear something. My swearing it is a little different/more true. 

Anyways, the point is that January 2016 was not last week. It was 5 months ago. And it is for reals May. And let's move on. 

Currently I am...

celebrating //
The fact that it is May in hell Houston, and it's been so crisp and cool the past few days. Like you don't feel like you want to peel off your skin. Everybody stop whatever you're doing and knock on wood, please and thank you. I got to Houston in mid-May of last year, and I distinctly remember sweating off my you-know-what anytime I even thought about going outside. The past few days when I've walked the dog I've had goosebumps on my you-know-what (jk, on my arms), and I can't believe it. Dear Houston, please keep these temps for at least another week or even half a week.

reading //
Apparently one of the fifty million times I've been on a plane recently I started reading We Were Liars through the plane's free wifi. I got so into it and put a post-it note reminder on my brain to download it and finish it when I got home.

spoiler alert: I never did. And that was two or three months ago. And now that I'm talking about it I remember how badly I want to know what happened. I was reading reviews of the book, and the majority of the reviews were people saying things like, I hate books like this because I'm so smart and can always guess the mystery in any kind of book so I knew what was going to happen the entire time I was reading it. Did I mention I have a big, smart brain?

Well, I have a small, not-smart brain, and I can never guess the outcomes of books so Imma read it and finish it, dangit!

pondering // 
If my dog loves getting five millions and fifteen kisses from me a day or if he hates it? OH WELL, WHO CARES. Good thing dogs can't talk.

sipping //
I never ever ever ever liked coffee. Add in a few more evers plus a few more. But now that I've discovered lattes/iced lattes/iced caramel lattes, and pumping the coffee full of milk and sugary things I am ALL about coffee.

So much that I wish I was sipping a sugary/milky/iced latte right about now. My body also wishes I was sipping one and filling myself with sugar right now. Because who says sugar isn't good for you? And why? Are we sure?...

going //
I'm headed to my college roommate's bachelorette/shower weekend later this month, and I. Cannot. Wait. Is it too early to start talking about how I have nothing to wear that weekend/getting all over Pinterest/not shutting up about the fact that I don't know what to wear that weekend? No? I'm allowed to be basic and do all these things now even though its four weeks away? Cool. Because GUYS, I have absolutely nothing to wear to this shindig. Wink.

What are you up to currently? Filling your body with sugary goodness?

Linking up with Jenna and Anne

when your sister is old, but still young

Yesterday was my sister's twenty-first birthday.

You see, my sister is kind of famous on this here blog. Which really means that she's famous all around the country because this blog = a national staple. Obviously.  

I wrote about her hair (which is beautiful), that one time the Pope hit her (classic), how she steals my clothes (and vice versa), and that one time she turned seventeen (which hello, twenty-one is a way bigger deal) (hashtag wine and stuff). 

You know, there's something about little siblings, am I right? They just always are that: little. When I was going through my Pilates training, apparently I would talk about Ann a lot (I'm obsessed, what can I say?) and refer to her as my little sister. When my fellow trainees finally met my then twenty-year old sister they were really confused. I thought she was your little sister...? She's an adult!

And I was over there like Yeah, yeah whatever. She's little! She was like five yesterday! I swear. Ann, wanna go watch Dragon Tales?! Oh, you make more money than I do right now and you would rather go watch Star Wars? Gotcha. 

how I see Ann vs. how everyone else sees Ann 

Ann turning twenty-one has become quite an emotional time, and if I'm this sentimental with my younger sister then let's go ahead and put me on some kind of medication for when I have my own children. I keep looking at pictures of Young Ann and thinking of all the ridiculous stuff she used to say and do. 

Like telling us the Pope hit her.

Or when she watched Charlie's Angels a few times too many (one of the many perks of having older siblings: PG13 movies), and she told my mother she had to go number one.

Or when she had an imaginary friend named...what for it...Grandma, and would cry whenever my mom would drive by "Grandma's house" and not stop. 

Or when she got so mad at me that she slammed her bedroom door, shutting both of us inside her room. Did I mention she slammed the door so hard that we were stuck in there until my dad broke down the door? (classic) (again).

Or when she would hide her medicine and say, I'll take it if you can find it...

Anyways, back to the post that only my mother, father, brother, sister, and other close family members will care about...

Let's finish with some GIFs that will take us on a journey through the past twenty-one years with Ann-y Boop Doodle. 

Me, the day when my little sister Ann was born and all my dreams came true

My entire family when, as a baby, she had reflux and would just constantly throw up.

My entire family when she was out of the constant throwing up stage of her life...

...but then went right into the constant whining stage of her life. 

Fast forward to present day when we all realized that the whining youngest sibling turned out to be way cooler than any of us. 

And finally, anyone's face and demeanor anytime he or she is around Ann: pure bliss. 

Ann, I'm sorry Mom never took you to your imaginary Grandma's house, but somehow you still managed to turn out okay. 

Happy Day After Your Twenty-First Birthday!!

*Otherwise known as the beginning of the stage of your life in which you are constantly buying me bottles of wine. Thanks.