stepping into summer swap

Anytime I come across a blogging gift exchange I sign up. I probably should read more about said gift exchanges, but I just get so excited. Before I know it I'm fifteen minutes deep in the line at the Post Office ready to ship another $20 limit Target gift. 

I lead a fascinating life. Really. Pilates and Post Office visits. What more does one need?

The most recent gift exchange, Stepping Into Summer Swap, was hosted my Meg and Macy. Two key words lured me in to this exchange: sandals and nail polish. Okay, you caught me. Those are three words, but no tried and true female in the blogging world can say no to those two things made up of three words: sandals and nail polish. 

One quick click on Meg and Macy's blogs, a few questions answered, several emails exchanged, and wam bam thank you ma'am, I was back at the Post Office ready to ship yet another blogging gift. 

Side note: should I invite the Post Office workers to a Christmas party this year? Yes or yes? Yes, obviously, because we're all best friends by now. 

There are several times throughout the year that I get way too excited to check the mail. Those several times include: every single day because I'm crazy and think, for some reason, that I'm going to get mysterious surprise mail 365 days out of the year. BUT the times when I'm waiting for a blog gift are REALLY exciting because I know that when I open the mailbox that there will be something there other than Southwest trying to get me to get their credit card. Real gifts!

I was paired with Macy which means I was the luckiest because she sent the cutest sandals and polish. The cutest! Think of your cutest pair of sandals and your favorite color nail polish, and then just know that mine are cuter. Wink. 

Macy got me these lace-up sandals because she said they reminded her of tying up pointe shoes. They are also a lot more comfortable than pointe shoes so winning!

Fashion blogger. Candid. Blurry phone pic. What what.

Ignore my ugly dance/Pilates feet and just keep looking at the shoes and purple polish.

Thanks, Meg and Macy, for hosting such a fun giveaway! I'll sign up for one or twelve more if you'll host them ;)

This post is brought to you by the season summer, the letter S, and me forgetting to take pictures of gifts I get before I need to post a blog. 

the red wire or the blue wire?

Currently I have two Pinterest tabs opened on my computer. One so I can search makeup storage on bathroom counter, and the second so I can search office for men. 

Two life or death/super important/hardest decision ever kind of things. 

I am being the biggest baby when it comes to unpacking and decorating our new place. Ever since last June when we moved to Houston, I have been saying I want (read need) more space, and now I have it, and I'm losing my...mind. Losing my mind. If you care to insert a stronger word there then be my guest. 

That was all going to change this past weekend. Ricky and I started a list of things we needed and things we wanted to do around the apartment. Fun fact, this list was Ricky's idea, and he even wanted to go to Target to start knocking out said list (?!), so I did what any obedient wife would do, and I followed him into Target. To knock out our to-do list. To finish living in disarray. To decorate our new place.

Example A of losing one's bleep:

I stood in the bathroom section of Target debating between a wooden bathroom countertop organizer or a glass and metal vanity tray and OH MY GOSH! Oh my gosh! Let me say it one more time, oh my gosh. It's like choosing the red wire or the blue wire to disarm a bomb, but way, way harder. Which tray do I get to put on my bathroom counter?! The three guests every four months we have are going to have to see this tray on my bathroom counter, and I want them to like it! No, I want them to love it. 

I couldn't picture either of them sitting there on the counter. I tried so hard, but my brain wasn't allowing it, so five fifteen minutes later I finally just walked away empty handed. 

New, big apartment - 1

Emily - 0

But it was okay! Bathroom may have won that round, but I was ready to conquer the floor lamps. I was armed with my Cartwheel app, and my empty-no-bathroom-counter-tray arms and we were ready to win. 

I took six steps down the floor lamp aisle, took one quick glance up at the eight to ten display lamps they had, and turned my behind right back around and left. Because...because. Floor lamps are expensive. And...there were a lot of styles. And...I can't decide what I want the feel of this new apartment to be. 

Side note: as I was leaving Hobby Lobby the other day I noticed the chair up front. You know, the one chair to rule them all? It was like the ghost chairs that are ever so popular among the blog world, but with wooden/more modern looking legs. 

That was a horrible explanation, BUT that chair is exactly how I want our new place to look. 

Cool, clear, modern, wooden...cozy? Did I already say cool?... you just have to be there to see the chair, okay?

And if all of those words up there ^^^ aren't the perfect Example B's of losing one's bleep then I don't know how much more crazy I can get for you without needing a sedative. 

On that note, I'm off to sit on the couch and admire my invisible floor lamp and invisible bathroom counter vanity trays. 

when in Chicago...

This time next week we'll be headed up to Wisconsin for my college roommate's wedding. A Fourth of July weekend wedding! A Fourth of July weekend morning wedding! Hello, brunch reception, don't mind if I do eat you up. 

After the wedding festivities Ricky and I will be spending a few days in Chicago. In Chi-town. In the Windy City. The Second City. In the ::insert any and all other Chicago nicknames here::

I've never been to Chicago. Scratch that, I've flown through Chicago three times. The first time was when I was ten-years old and we had a layover in O'Hare. You better believe my best friend and I slow-mo ran through the airport pretending like we were in Home Alone because that's what you do when you're ten, really awesome, and in O'Hare. You could also do that at any age as long as you're awesome and in O'Hare, just fyi. People might stare at you more, but actually they won't because it's an airport and I feel like any actions are accepted in airports. Side bar: have you ever people watched and noticed just how many people are grooming themselves out in the open at airports? As someone who has flown way too much in the past fourteen months, I have seen lots of airport grooming, and I may have even partaken in said airport grooming at some point. Maybe. 

Anyways.

Back to Chicago.

Today's Friday Five/Favorites/Fun is going to involve YOU telling ME where WE should go when we're in Chicago. Even if you haven't been there, I'd really appreciate it if you'd just do the research for me and tell me what we should do. That'd be great. 

::insert winky face emoji here followed by serious face emoji::

Freddie likes baseball (annoyingly so) (spoiler alert: it's on the TV now as I'm typing this) (which isn't a big deal because it's always on our TV) (is there a 24-hour baseball channel? Because he'd watch it), and I like...food. Freddie likes food, too, but I think baseball wins right now. He likes beer, I like wine. He likes exploring, I like food again. And so on and so forth adding some more food in there. 

What's good, Chicago?!

Here's a picture of us traveling, but not in Chicago. But traveling, nonetheless. So I'm a travel blogger now or something.

Happy Friday!

a very marry weekend

I should probably go ahead and warn you that with the amount of weddings going on and coming up in this stage of life that this blog will be dedicated to me attempting to try to properly word my emotions as I see some of my oldest and dearest friends get married. Actually scratch that, instead it will be me word vomming and you reading a bunch of nonsense while looking at an obscene amount of pictures that you probably don't even care to see. Get used it. Get ready for it. Let's do it.

This past weekend was the wedding of my friend Hannah Michael. Do you have a friend whose name reminds you of a character? For instance, no one in my family calls my dad Dad or Russ. We all call him Russ Moore because Russ Moore is a character. Russ is just another name, but Russ Moore is the actual character. Same goes for my friend Hannah Michael. Calling her Hannah doesn't accurately describe her nuisances and quirks, but as soon as you add on that Michael it all starts to make sense.

So my friend. Hannah Michael. She's a hoot. During her father's speech he made the comment that Hannah should have been/should be a politician because she can fit in with the nerds, the jocks, the preps, the hipsters, and any other group of people. She not only gets along with these crowds, but she literally has such a broad and unique personality that she attracts just about any and all personality types. She slips on her Jack Rogers while making the most explicit fart jokes, if you catch my drift. Literally catch my drift. Wink.

I absolutely love this stage of life with my friends getting married. Isn't it fascinating to look back on your friendships and then fast forward to see the kind of person your friends have ended up with? Fas. Ci. ating. Hannah's first memory of me is when I was 14, too cool for school, and talking about my tan line from reading Harry Potter while outside in the sun. My first memory of 12-year old Hannah is her wearing seamed tights to dance, and me thinking that was so lame. Like the lamest lame. Because who wore seamed rights to ballet?! Spoiler alert: I became a seamed tight convert later in my ballet life, but that's obviously a story for another time. Get excited for that post. There is nothing like seeing the person your best friends have chosen, laughing with the person they've chosen, crying from laughing so hard from getting to know the person they've chosen, and opening a fourth or sixth bottle of champagne with the person they've chosen. I. Love. It. 

I also love that by going to so many weddings in a span of several years that we get to party continually with friends we otherwise would only get to see once in a blue moon. This all means that I have a short list of things I need. A) I need my friends to divorce constantly and remarry the same person every few years so we can all get together again or B) just host really giant anniversary parties. Your choice. Just as long as I get to dance to Earth, Wind, and Fire's September while tearing it up on the dance floor with my friends two to three times a year. Every year. Until at least 2050 when my knees may or may not  give out. 

Hannah, thanks for not giving up on stalking that cute boy in the library in college. Even when the police got involved (KIDDING KIDDING). Chris, thanks for sticking it through with Hannah because I've always dreamed my friends would marry someone FUN. And you are the most fun. And this is so obviously all about me. Wink. Reader(s. Plural when you count my mom AND dad), thanks for following along even though you don't know these world class people of whom I just talked a lot about. 

Next wedding is in T-minus thirteen days, so go ahead and mark you calendars for another Top Notch Word Vom post in T-minus fourteen days. 

To read more into the deep feelings I experience with good friends getting married, go here and here. 

on Facetiming in

Seeing that it's the start of a new week, and I haven't posted since Friday of last last week I figured I would give my fans a little somethin' somethin' today. 

Fans = my dad, my mother, and my Nonny. 

Congratulations! You three get the Loyal Readers Gold Card! This gives you access to...nothing, but it does sounds cool, right?

Speaking of my mother, last Thursday was her birthday! I hope you pause after this sentence to silently (or not-so-silently) sing Happy belated Birthday to my mommy-o/

Thanks! She thanks you too. 

Living away from your family is weird. You find yourself saying things like, Don't forget to FaceTime me in for that! And then when you do visit home you find yourself saying things like, Why is the furniture rearranged differently?! Why are you messing with the house?! I don't like it. Now I completely understand why people did not move away from "home" in the olden days (whatever the olden days mean...). A) Because there was no such thing as FaceTime so FaceTiming in would have been hard to do, and B) They wanted to make sure their parents didn't rearrange furniture any crazy way. Any history major can and would back me up on those two reasons, I'm sure.

Anyways, back to my mom. She is one rockstar. I mean just look, she could have starred in the 80's version of 16 and Pregnant! Look at that baby face. 

Except she was 23 and pregnant, but that doesn't sound like a good title for a show...

She also could have most definitely been a fashion blogger, if fashion blogging had been a thing in the 80's.

 Candid pose? Obviously check. Mom jeans that aren't mom jeans because they are patterned? Check.  Button-up for modesty? Check. No collar bone action up in here!

And finally, she and my dad knew how to do the whole kiss-the-girl-while-she-subtly-looks-straight-into-the-camera-and-smirks smiles engagement picture post that's so Pinterest-y and popular these days. 

Ugh, it's like they invented the pose and Pinterest, right?

I'll leave you with this story of what happened while I was Facetiming in for my mom's birthday celebrations:

Mom: Emily, will you hold the phone up to the right side of your chin?

I oblige. 

Mom: What are THOSE on your chin?!!! ?!?!

Emily: Those are called zits, Mom. Thanks for noticing and pointing out so kindly. 

Happy Birthday month to the BEST of the best! Here's hoping one day I can look as young and beautiful when I'm pregnant as Mary Caroline did when she was pregnant (except she was young when she was pregnant, and I'm already an old hag in MC baby birthing years...), I can rock a shoulder pad or two whenever they make their comeback, and that one day I no longer get chin zits. Just let me dream here for a second, people.

Also maybe I need to start buttoning up my chambrays all the way?

Quick life update:

We have moved apartments.

We made the mile long trip from Point Old Apartment to Point B Apartment a total of 365 bazillion times. 

I don't know where my underwear is packed away.

Over and out. 

five on friday: moving mayhem

 Today's Friday Five/Five On Friday/Friday Favorites/Alliteration Annihilation is...

Surprise! We're moving! And no, it's not a fun moving post like this or this.

We're moving a mile down the street. Literally a mile. Down the same road.  The same, horribly pot-holey Houston road. 

Now raise your hand if you've ever watched Tiny Houses and had an epiphany like, Oh my gosh! I need a tiny house. Downsize is the right size! I'm here to tell you FALSE. Tiny houses/homes/apartments mean sitting on top of each other all the time. They mean that if you need to do separate work that somebody has to sit on the bed or study on the floor. Or leave and go somewhere else. They mean  that when you have a few months of some serious stomach issues and the bathroom is off the bedroom and you can hear everything that goes on in there that you're surprised when your spouse still wants to go to bed with you. But like not that I would know that particular point or anything...

I say all of this because our new place is 350 more square feet for the same price. High five self! (I never knew I could have such strong feelings for a unit of measurement, but wowza). It's got a separate dining room. The bathroom isn't right off the bedroom. It's got a small study. It's got an entire laundry room*. High fives for everyone! 

*room here means small space just big enough to fit one washer, one dryer, and one person's sucked in tummy to fit in said room.

But with these beautiful, precious, and prized square feet come all the ugly, disgusting, and horrible factors of moving. 

one // boxes 

I've never appreciated the term think outside the box more than when I started trying to fit things in boxes. Boxes are not made to fit things. Boxes are made to fit books, aaaaand that's about it. My fun "W" shaped decor does not fit in them. Our kitchen gadgets do not fit in them. Our linens do not fit in them unless we turn them all sorts of different ways. So ya know what? I'm about to start thinking and packing outside the box. And by packing outside the box I mean just carrying everything in my arms, I guess. 

two // motivation

This time around we have fifteen days to move stuff before we have to be out of our current place. That sounds great until we realize that another day has gone by, and all we've done is talked about packing, not packed, and watched Game Of Thrones. But as the ever-so-wise Scarlett O'Hara said, After all, tomorrow is another day. <<<this way of thinking will only work until June 15 when there is literally only one more tomorrow before we have to be out.  

three // crap

When we did the whole downsizing is the right (wrong) sizing thing last year we purged a lot of crap. A lot. There's also a lot currently living in my parent's garage, but we'll count that as stuff we got rid of. So in the past twelve months of living in a tiny apartment I'm not sure how we accumulated so much crap, but...

...this is the part in the post where I want to say we should never own a house because I know we'll accumulate too too too much stuff, but I refuse to say that because Freddie will come back here years from now and find it. 

...but oops, I did say it. 

four // packing tape

Am I the only one who can never get it to stay on the weird red part that's supposed to hold it from sticking back to the roll? 

five // unpacking

Do I really need to further explain this point? Isn't it just a universal thing that everyone hates unpacking? I'm pretty sure you can't be a human and live on Earth unless you agree that you hate unpacking. Or something. Decorating is one thing and that one thing is fun. Unpacking is another thing and that thing is sucky. 

Happy Friday!

May all your future moves be easy as pie. 

And then may you eat pie to celebrate the easy as pie move. 

Linking up with Karli and Amanda.