on eating a weekday lunch with my mother

There are certain activities that, when accomplished, make you feel like you've really got your life together. Cleaning a car (yourself) is one of those activities.

So obviously I cleaned my car last week.

I know, I know. Yay me. Just try to even get at me, Life! I've got vacuumed car mats, wiped down coin holders, no more Lupe snot infested windows, and dust-free AC vents. What now?

Oh I know what now. How about now I dust off this ol' keyboard and get to type-type-typing?

You don't know how many times in the past lots of months I have sat down to start writing. And that clean car bit was the best I could come up with! I would stop attempting to write because where should I even start? What was so interesting about my life that it needs to be shared? I felt like I had no words. No muse. No reason to write. Mostly because I was/am still trying to sort through my thoughts and feelings about so many things so how could I write on topics about which I had no idea how I felt?

I still feel that way. Suddenly I have found myself in a season of life where I question things. All the things. Everything.

Did we make the right choice to move? On all moves?
Does Lupe need to switch up his food to the seafood flavor?
Do I keep eating chocolate until I turn into an oompa loompa or stop now when I'm halfway there?
Why does Rick put up with me?
Is it time to start a family?
Do I learn all the words to the Moana songs or just the one line?
Is it okay to start The Office again for the fifth time?
Is happiness a choice and am I doing a good job at choosing it?

^^^listen, that's not even scratching the surface of the inside of my head recently. It's as if the characters from Inside Out crossed over with the leads in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

But one thing I've come to realize is that I don't necessarily need to have the right words or feelings---I just need to start type-type-tying through everything and I will possibly find the right words. So here we are.

Hi! I'm Emily. Nice to meet you. Yadda yadda yadda.

Want a quick rundown of what's been going on? Cool. No big deal, Rick and I moved (again), but this time it was back home.

This means a lot of things. For instance, just this past week I had lunch with my mom on Monday, my siblings-in-law came to dinner Tuesday, my sister spent the night Wednesday, on Thursday I taught a new client who remembers watching my grandfather broadcast on TV in Atlanta, and by Friday another new client realized she knows my father-in-law and even helped him set up my rehearsal dinner. 

All in a week's work, my friends, all in a week's work. Lupe spends just as much time, if not more, at my parent's house playing with their dogs, and Freddie and I often end up at places we frequented while dating. It's all so weird, so deja-vu-y, and so wonderful.

But I have to be honest, it's also been hard. I was talking to a client who has moved many times throughout the past twenty years, and I asked her if the moving and starting over was difficult for her. She thought only for a second before responding with, You know, it wasn't. I really tried to bloom where I was planted, and I enjoyed every place we were. 

Bloom where you're planted. I love that! Freddie and I have really have enjoyed each town and each apartment where we've been. We became fluent in being beach bums in Charleston, walked miles up and down King Street, and picked out fun little bungalows in the Old Village. We also became fluent in Texas cowboy, went to fifty million Rodeos and are ready to go to fifty million more, and biked miles and miles and miles around the city of Houston.

Each place has really left a deep impression on our minds and hearts, and I feel like in return we've kind of left pieces of ourselves in each place. Charleston Rick and Emily were different than Houston Rick and Emily who are different than Atlanta Rick and Emily.

Here's where my fun brain comes into play: did we bloom too much where we were planted? Did we get our roots too deeply in too many places? Are we making things harder on ourselves by having to start over every few years? Which Rick and Emily were the best Rick and Emily? And the big one: did we make the right choice to move?

I might not know the answers to most questions I create on a daily basis, but on that last question ^^^ up there I know the answer.

When I get to see and hug our families on a regular basis, when I get to visit my grandfather in the hospital, when I get to teach in the Pilates studio where I fell in love with Pilates ten years ago, when we get to spend a Tuesday evening cooking with old friends and a Wednesday evening playing games with siblings, when I get to go to bed knowing that the next week will bring all those familiar feelings and people again then yes, I know we made the right decision.

What I'm trying to say is A) obviously I need to be medicated, right? ;) B) a lot has been going on, but being Georgians again is fun and C) remember the whole cleaning your car bit from earlier? I guess what I was trying to say there is that coming home is much like cleaning out your old car: a little refresh and shine are all you really need to spruce up things and make something old and familiar feel new and exciting again.

Shoot! I knew I was going somewhere by starting this post with a clean car story. Wink.

pee-sss: I have a very big respect and appreciation for anyone, military or not, whose job requires them to move often. You are my hero. 

pee-pee-sss: Chucktown and HTX friends, we miss the bleep out of you. 

scenes around the Christmas home

Iiiiiiiiit's that time of year!

Sing it with me...

When the blogs look the same

Every post you see seems to be titled...

Holiday Home Tour.

Pause the song here so you can relish in the fact that I am also giving you a holiday home tour post because why the heck not?! Christmas decorations are fun, and being nosy and seeing other people's Christmas decorations is equally as fun. 

Christmas in Texas is very similar to Christmas in Charleston. 

Example A: It is 70 degrees outside and does not feel like December.

Example B: It rains. A lot. 

Example C: WHO CARES! IT'S ALMOST CHRISTMAS!

The biggest difference, of course, is that we don't have any snow...y white beach sand to look at, but we could always drive down to Gavelston for some of that. Another difference is that a lot of Christmas decorations here seem to embrace the lone star symbol to some extent. Texans love themselves some lone stars, and I love anything that's Christmas related, lone star or not, so we're all happy here. 

Let's start with the most important item of interest: the tree. This year's tree is named Kandi. With a 'K' and an 'I' because that's how festive, sassy, and fun she is. 

Meet Kandi's shining glory, the party tree topper. Straight up disco-style Christmas celebrating in here. 

Does that sign look like Merry Christnas to anyone else? 

And that's about as decorated as you can get with 600 square feet. Just kidding, we have other odds and ends set out, but these are the decorations I see most often from where I plant my bootay on the couch.

How could I forget Santa Ricky underneath the mistletoe?!
Thank God for PicMonkey Santa hat overlays that make pictures more fun.

We're headed to Georgia on Sunday to spend Christmas there. I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Mostly because we can snuggle. And hold hands! And eat cookie dough! And drink wine by the Christmas tree! And snuggle some more! And go look at the two-story Christmas tree and all the local decorations we grew up with!

Did I mention wine by the tree? And cookie dough? Okay, good.

What's your favorite Christmas decor?
Last year's Christmas home scenes here. 

from this to that

The layout of the rooms in our new apartment is quite similar to our apartment in Charleston. This means two things: 1) the placement of the wall decor is almost exactly the same and 2) I could never get lost in our new apartment! 

side note: I couldn't get lost in it anyways since city life means downsizing life means tiny apartment life, but we'll pretend it's because the rooms are similar. 

But really, when I'm saying the placement of the wall decor is almost exactly the same what I really mean is the placement of the wall decor IS EXACTLY, 100%, no doubt the same. 

See?

What you can't see is that the end tables switched sides. So there. And our bed is now on risers, dorm room style. This means we are now at least 5 inches higher. #royalty. 

I can decorate differently, okay? You don't see the Merry Christmas sign up in these Texas pictures, do you? Mmhm.

Well crap, I didn't realize how creepily crazily twinsies it looked until I edited these pictures together. But as yo mama (or someone...) says, if it ain't broke, don't fix it! Meaning, if your wall decor works as is, then definitely don't change it when you move.  

One thing that is different, the handle to flush the toilet is on the left side of the toilet. If I had a nickel for every time I've reached to the right to flush then...I would be swimming so deep in nickels that I wouldn't even be able to see the toilet, much less which side the handle is on.

A second thing that is different, Central freaking Time. I loathe Central Time. I am such an Eastern Time snob. Is that a thing? I just made it a thing. To me, traveling from Eastern to Central and back and forth is much worse than traveling anywhere with any kind of jet lag. I cannot get used to it. I can't! Ever! I don't care how long we stay in Texas I will never be used to it! <this is me not being dramatic because gag, Central Time. My shows now come on at different times. My alarm for my medicine is now a hour earlier. My internal clock wakes me up at an ungodly hour here in the central time land. When my friends post things on Facebook I never know if I'm seeing the time in Central Time or Eastern Time. 

MY LIFE in Central Time IS HARD.

To cope with these rather difficult toilet handle and time change changes I am going to go sit on my couch, under my forever-the-same-decorated floating shelf, and stare at my definitely-decorated-the-same cube shelves. Change is good for you, but sometimes you just need to look up and see your dang pictures in the same dang places. 

on solving a mystery

Back in October when we moved to our new place, I was most excited about the hardwood floors. Hardwood. Floors. So classy! So grown-up! So nice looking! I had had it with nasty carpet. I was a hardwood floor girl, and I was wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

But after about 27 days living with my new lover, hardwood floors, I realized they weren't so easy and wonderful... You sweep and mop and sweep and mop and clean and scrub and they look so beautiful and shiny that you kind of want to kiss them. And then, then, then, then! Then you take one step. Just one--that's all it takes, and suddenly your pristine and shiny hardwood floors have a toe print on them. After that, all hell breaks loose because the door opens and the wind blows in some old Christmas tree needles that are still lingering outside, mourning their departure from your apartment. And then it rains one day, and you hurriedly run in the door, and your slippery, muddy shoes leave slippery, muddy prints on the floors. 

Life is hard. Excuse me, life with hardwood floors is hard. 

Every Thursday between 2:30 and 4 o'clock I sweep our apartment. (You see, that is what adulthood is about, after all--scheduling your cleanings). Every Thursday around 2:48 I am shocked at what I find. 

As I sweep our hallway I somehow start gathering 3x as much dust, random crap, pine needles, and hair as I gathered in any other part of the apartment. The hallway? The hallway! Why yes, it all makes sense. Freddie and I do spend about 0.5% of our week in the hallway so it totally would accumulate the biggest amount of dusty piles to sweep. Oh wait, that doesn't make any sense at all. 

Why is my hair all over the hallway?! I shower, brush my wet hair, dry and then brush my dry hair, and style my hair (a.k.a. ballerina buns) in the bathroom. I spend a decent amount of time in my bedroom. I spend the most amount of time in the living room, but my hair is sparse in these other locations. 

My only conclusion (and it's a good one) is that my brain lets my hair know when I am taking my daily 3 steps across the hallway and suddenly my hair starts parachuting to the floor. Weeeeeeeee! We'll show her where we want to be!

And that, my friends, is the great mystery of Friday life. Have fun solving it. 

Happy Friday!

And a shoutout Happy Birthday! to Lawyer Katie. She was my first female friend in Chucktown and I kind of like her a lot. 

scenes around the Christmas home

Christmas time in the Low Country is an interesting thing. If you're dreaming of a White Christmas then good news! The sand on Isle of Palms is a dreamy white color. If you want to conspire by the fire that's cool,

 but you really don't need to because it's 60, maybe 50 degrees out (I won't lie, 50 is cold for me and I turn into a human ice cube). Now, sing with me: Oh, palm trees! Oh, palm trees! How lovely are thy decorated fronds.

You get the idea. Beach time Christmas time is a tad different. But that doesn't mean I treat it any differently. Has the radio been set to the Christmas station since Thanksgiving? You betcha. Are my Christmas jam jammies on my body every night? Yes, m'am. I even add the fuzzy socks and snuggly red blanket to feel really seasonally appropriate. Do I wear a jacket every time I leave the house even when Freddie is wearing a t-shirt? Definitely, because unlike my crazy husband I know that even though the sun is out in Charleston it is not sunny and 75 anymore. Have we driven around ooo-ing and ahh-ing at all the lights and decorations. Yes, because this! Let your heart shaped eyes look at how beautiful Marion Square is!

via

While I would love to have a 2-story tall lit up Christmas tree in our home, it ain't happening with these confining things some people call ceilings. So here's how we are Christmas-ing it UP in our house... 

I'm counting the new couch as Christmas decor. So festive.  

Target dollar bin bags and homemade tags: no shame in my Christmas wrapping game. 

Even the best pillow ever needs a little touch of Christmas.

My family is coming to Chucktown for Christmas this year, and while I'm sad I won't be doing and seeing all the regular Georgia Christmas things that I love so much (hello, giant Grinch on our neighbor's house, I'm talking to you), I am kind of super excited to go put my cold toes in the sand on Christmas day. 

And yes, as I sit and edit this post I realize how...gray our apartment looks. Holla' at cha favorite color. What whaaaaat!

1 mom + 1 decorated apartment

My mom came into town last week to help sort through this phase of life some call "moving and growing up." Gross. Yes, I am thrilled to be in a new place. No, I am not thrilled about anything cardboard and/or box shaped. But, man. Moms! The best. My mom came in, kicked butt, took names, and got a lot of our stuff done. 

So since it is Friday and all the alliteration link-ups are today (Friday Five! Friday Favs! Eff, yeah!), I thought this Friday deserved a 5 (of the 5 million) reasons Moms are the best. More importantly/to be exact/for your information, my mom. 

one. She talks you into the deer head over which you've been going gaga ever since Hob Lob put it out. Months of stalking it,  questioning my need for it, and sending pictures to Freddie saying things like, yes? She said get it and so I did. 

Welcome to the family, Buck Weiss. You be looking so good with your gold accents. 

two. She helps you find a gorgeous matted frame for your Ray La quote and then asks the employee if they can cut the 5x7 mat to be an 8x10 mat. Um, taking care of business and I don't have to deal with stranger danger?! Another point for the mom win.

I mean, come on. Who knew it was so easy to just snip snip and voila! New mat size! (everyone probably knew that). 

three. She irons the special ordered 21-inch bedskirt you got for the guest room. No explanation needed for this mom-is-the-best reason. Ironing is ick. Ironing a bedskirt? I think that gets a triple-ick and a big oh-no-no. 

But she did it with grace. And only one or two See how much I love you's?!

four. She gets you out of the house to actually buy the items you need in order to do that craft you've been wanting to do for weeks.

She glittered. I wrote in fake calligraphy. Teamwork at its finest. 

five. She puts everything together. I mean this in the literal she put my apartment together way, but also in the she put my life back together way. Anxiety-ridden home girl over here just really needed some mom answers about my life. And I got 'em.

But instead of showing you pictures of the difference in my worry wrinkles and level of stress after some mom talks, I will show you pictures of my apartment that she put together.

Operation Get Family to Move Closer to Charleston Commences...Now 1.5 years ago.
Linking up with Karli and Amanda! 

a quarter of the way done

I am currently deep in the middle of midterms. They are so thrilling and exhilarating that I decided to dedicate an entire blog post about them.

The end.  

That is the only portion of this post that I will dedicate to those little suckers. I could not possibly waste more space talking about tests and papers when much more exciting things have been happening lately around these parts. 

I'm going to start with the obvious excitement of Joseph coming home for a few days. !!! See?! Excitement! My little Broseph Woseph came home for a few days because well, who says Newnan can't be as awesome as Orlando? We definitely proved that Newnan is in fact doubly awesome during his visit. The only downside is that Agnes Scott did not realize that family members coming home is right up there on the same page with national holidays WHICH MEANS no school on those days. Ah well, maybe by the time I finally graduate they'll figure that one out...

Any time the whole Moore fam is all together (foreva) fun times are sure to be had by all. This visit was no exception due to the fact that one so-called Ann Elizabeth decided to up and get herself grounded the day before J-man's visit. 

Now, one BIG sidenote y'all: Ann Moore would kill me if I did not clarify this grounded situation. She was not "really" "technically" grounded. MC was "kinda" "sorta" joking and took it away. ish. 

That totally clears things up for people, right?

Anyways, back to the story. Do you know how much fun it is to pick on siblings? Especially siblings that get grounded when you yourself have never ever been grounded and are in fact as close to perfect as children can come? Lemme tell you (and Ann-y poo would agree with me here), it is so much fun. Wanna know just how much fun? Let's get some examples up in here:

Ann: Why didn't y'all wake me up?

Everyone else: Because you're grounded.

Ann: Mom, I wasn't on the internet. I was on my iTouch checking my e-mail.

Everyone else: Wait, what? You're grounded.

Ann: I'm still hungry.

Everyone else: No more food. Because remember, you're grounded.

Ann: Guys! This isn't funny anymore! Stop making grounded jokes! Mom was kidding!

Everyone else: You think Mom was kidding? You're RE-grounded for thinking that. 

I could go on for days. Years really. Wait, did I mention anywhere in this post yet that I was never grounded? Just making sure. 

Ann, I love you. I realize that you are not really grounded, but still...this is too much fun. (Psst, did y'all see that part where I said she is not really grounded?)

Other noteworthy (and not nearly exciting as Ann being not grounded) events of the visit: introducing old Joseph and young Ann to the glories on Yogli Mogli (what what, free froyo, yo), a Sprayberry's meal with Diddy and friends, scrounging around Uncle John's house for goodies, eating more food, and watching some Undercover Brother on the new, huge, and improved television. Joseph, come back soon so I can eat n' stuff with you. 

Everyone else (in the whole world) has the pictures from J's visit. So, since I cannot leave you with a pic of his face smushed up against some other faces, I will leave you with this picture: 

my latest apartment wall creation. erry'thing I love all together in one big 'ole heart.