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. 

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.