famous last words

I'm going to the bathroom to read.

A party! Let's have a party!

Mozart!

I'm bored with it all.

Famous last words. If you Google famous last words you'll find some of ^these^ along with many, many others. If you stalk my blog, you'll quickly learn that I am a frequent famous last word-er. Not sure if there's a support group for us FLWs, but if so A) let me know which church basement I should be going to for this problem, and B) do they serve donuts?

A little over four years ago Freddie left Atlanta for Charleston and never really looked back. Well, he looked back long enough to grab me by my left ring finger and bring me with him marry me. Whenever we were asked if we'd move back to Atlanta or Georgia one day we'd always laugh and say Probably not! Because duh, we had lived in that area our entire lives. Come on, people asking questions, get it together! We wanted to explore, to travel, to be in our own bubble. So we did. We explored, we traveled, and we started building our own little Rick n' Em bubble.

side note: I used to babysit a boy who couldn't say bubbles so naturally instead he called them boobies. It was the greatest. 

Which is why right at two years ago when Freddie got the opportunity to work in Houston we said Yee-freaking-haw! and traded in our bathing suits for cowboy boots (uh, still my most favorite rhyme ever). Freddie never really looked back after that move either, but I sure as word-that-rhymes-with-bit did. Not living in the town of Chucks was a hard pill to swallow, but once Rodeo Rick and I experienced our first taste of Texas BBQ and watched our first round of Mutton Bustin', we were hooked on all things bigger and badder in the Lone Star State. Still we'd pretty frequently get asked when we were coming home or when we were moving back to the Peach State, and still we'd give people the oh puh-lease chuckle. No. Thank. You.

And now I present you with an intermission story of 

Freddie and Emily: Through The Years Of Moving

Blurry bar pic of Freddie's last night in Atlanta circa 2013

The freckled Lowcountry Weisses circa 2014

Texas Weisses with the addition of Lupe Tortilla Weiss (and his tongue) circa 2016

Being away from family is such a strange feeling. Some days it's nice to have distance and make whatever time you do have together that much more precious, but being away slowly started to feel more like a punishment. Why couldn't we get more than just quick holiday catch-ups with our families? Why, Delta flippin' airlines, do I have to pay $600+ for a plane ticket if I want to go see my family on a trip that wasn't planned 3-4 months in advance?

I remember when Atlanta and thoughts of the potential to live there again one day started creeping back into our heads. We'd casually mention it to each other, and then as if we knew we were saying something wrong we'd take it back.

But we always said we'd never go back! 
But it's Atlanta! 
But it's where we grew up. 
But there are so many other fun places.
But but but...

**It's important to note when I use the pronoun we that 85% of the time I am talking about me/I. I could be in a corner having anxiety attacks about going back on my word while Freddie would be sprawled out across the two patio chairs, beer or cocktail in hand, already having moved on and/or completely forgotten about whatever he said that may sound crazy. Let's all be more like Freddie.

Anyways, who's still with me at this point in the story? Mom? Dad? Good because here's the point of this long butt story:

Georgia or Bust, am I right? East coast, best coast?

We are moving back home! Back to Hotlanta. It's scary, stressful, super quick, but it's oh-so exciting! I hope you inserted your proper response of ::squealing:: right about ^^there! A job opportunity for Freddie came up, and next thing you know we were out champagne toasting Freddie accepting said job opportunity and us planning a move.

Houston was a big bleeping deal for us. We didn't have much money, stability, or even much of a support system when we moved here. It felt a lot like starting from scratch, but we did it. We figured it out. We spent a lot of time just the two of us. We made the best of friends. We budgeted. We found the coolest dog ever (our biggest accomplishment in life, thanks Reddit). We lived here. Here I'm using the verb live not in the yes-we-have-a-Houston-address way, but more in the we-got-through-the-sticky-times-and-created-the-party-times-here way. Because that's what living is really all about, right? Life shouldn't be all butterflies and rainbows, but it sure should be about finding the butterflies and the rainbows even on the cold, dreary days.

Ugh, I hate myself for that analogy. My b. Eye roll. 

I will finish by quoting the great T.I. feat. Rihanna, So live your life (Hey!) Go be, go do, just go. One of my close friends recently moved back home and although her move was for different reasons than ours she shared with me a simple, yett powerful sentence from one of her friends: You will never regret going home. 

So on that note...we're gonna go to Jawjuh!
Over
and
out. 

on being distinguished

I have this note on my phone where I jot down just about any thought that comes in my head. The purpose of this habit is, of course, to use these genius ideas as blog posts one day. 

Will our future children be as cool as Lupe? I should blog about it, but obviously the answer is no.

Peanut butter&jelly + traffic. Not sure where I was going with this one, but obviously needs a post. 

0 and 5 years old + laughing. Kids? Laughing? That is nice. Needs a post. 

Changing name. Banana Hammock or maybe I meant last name? Who knows. Needs a post. 

Two types of people: like gasoline smell and don't. Right on, right on. Important stuff. Needs post. 

Wait! I need to stop giving away all my good potential blog material! 

^^But first, let's go back to that last idea up there. Seriously people, how can some of you like the smell of gasoline? My nostrils and I just do not understand this. Please explain. 

Moving on. 

I found a grey hair. Let me rephrase that, I found grey hairs. Plural. Emphasis on the ssssssss part of that word.

a sampling

side story: if you ever say, I am going to get my hair cut around my grandfather he will undoubtedly respond with You're only getting one of your hairs cut? Obviously the hilarity in our family is unreal. Wink. 

This whole grey hairs things kind of all happened fast. One morning after teaching I went to wash my hands. I looked up in the mirror, and my eye was drawn to this one rogue hair sticking up like Alfalfa. I pulled it out and went on with my day. But as I was showing Freddie later, I moved my part over farther than I normally do and wham bam thank ya old ma'am, there were so many little grey hairs just hanging out on my head. Like they'd been there forever. Like I'd lived on this Earth forever enough to have grey hair(s) grow.

Now I'm not freaking out, and I haven't scheduled a hair appointment to dye the bleep out of all my hairs, but I do find it amusing. I've never considered myself a distinguished person, but suddenly I'm viewing the world through my new grey hairs glasses. I feel taller. I feel cooler. I feel like I can hand out advice. I feel like I've lived. I feel like chuckling at the teenagers throwing candy at the movie theater instead of wanting to hurt them. I feel like sipping straight liquor and reminiscing on the good ol' days.

**it's important to note I only have found about 10 grey hairs, and yes, like always, I am exaggerating things. 

**it's also important to note I am not really feeling or doing any of those things. 

Anyways, now that I'm all distinguished and grey and stuff, I decided to cook dinner the other night. This really proves that I am a changed woman because I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've cooked dinner for us. And by one hand I mean three fingers. Don't even need a whole hand to do this math!

BUT WHO IS COUNTING?!

I'm not counting. Well, that's not true. I am counting. My grey hairs. Every time I stand and look in the mirror. One, two, three, four...

Along with being a changed woman and having gone grey (as they say!) (who says that?) (no one) and cooking dinner here are some other new tricks I've got up my sleeve:

• Buying a new duvet cover and changing out bedding. Big things are happening here. 
• Taking recycling to our old complex since our new complex doesn't recycle. 
• Getting my master's in full time Pinterest planning of our upcoming Italy trip.
• Teaching Pilates to children.

pondering the meaning of grey hair

I've always wanted to sleep with an older woman. -- Freddie on my grey hairs.
But I don't even have that many grey hairs! -- My mother. Thanks for giving me your genes, Dad.

And with that I'm over and out.

I'm glad we could both completely ignore the fact that I haven't posted in a million months. Or just two. But anyways, thanks for ignoring that! Wink. 

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.

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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click goes the camera

Life has been so dang busy recently lately.

^^ I've almost started the last few blog posts with that sentence, but when I try to write a second sentence I can't think of what in our lives is actually making us that busy. Is it the dog who needs ten walks and twenty-six snuggles a day? Is it the BBQ sauce that Freddie keeps spilling on his clothes and testing my housewife laundry skills? Is it the six pounds of ground turkey from Costco that we keep needing to cook?

Slow. Down. Time. I know by saying this, time is only going to fly by faster, so let's go ahead and agree that I should never have kids because time is going to really fly with them. Like I'm already sad about my future bajillion kids being grown, and these kids aren't even being thought about right now, if ya know what I'm saying... (TMI? Sorry, Mom and Dad).

Freddie and I are re-watching The Office for the third or ninth time, and we just watched Jim and Pam's wedding episode. The whole episode Pam takes mental pictures by clicking an imaginary camera up by her eye. That is absolutely brilliant. It's also in the movie Elizabethtown, if you're a fact checker/movie buff. I am the worst about taking things for granted. The worst! I don't kiss Ricky as hard as I should when we leaves for work in the morning. I don't talk to my family every single day. I don't send my friends snail mail with big X's and O'x as often as I should. I do always tell the Lu-ster I love him before I leave. I don't want to wait for something sad or complicated to make me appreciate the little itty bitty wonderful things in my life. On that note, here are five mental pictures I took this week.

-Ricky sitting across from me at the coffee shop with his new, super hawt haircut. Ricky has a disease that the brother of Benjamin Button, Fenjamin Futton, had. Instead of aging in reverse, he just gets ridiculously more good looking the older he gets. Is that a male thing? Oh excuse me, Rick just informed me it's called Benjamin Cute as a Button disease. Anyways, ignore me on the other side of the coffee shop table, with my recently acquired hormonal zits and under eye bags.

-The smile one of my clients had the first time she successfully did a Roll-Up on her own. If you've ever attempted a Pilates Roll-Up in which you do not get to throw yourself up to a seated position like you do in a sit-up then I'm sure you understand the awesome sauce-ness of that smile and the awesome sauce-ness of that move.

-Lupe curled up as snug as a bug in a rug...except he's a dog curled up in my lap. And yes, I do take mental pictures and real pictures of this one. Sue me.

-The giant BE SOMEONE graffiti that's written on an underpass as you take I-45 into downtown Houston. So go already! Be someone!

-The solemn and grateful faces of every single fan at the Astros game on September 11 as the National Anthem was sung. What a sight. I got chills taking it all in.

And because wordy blogs are boring, here's a real picture!

A very, merry Houston sunrise. 

What are some of your mental pictures from the week?

the power of three

text from Freddie on Thursday, September 7 2016: um I just bought tickets to the astros next wednesday. they were $8 a piece. 

^^^ this my friends is the beginning of the story of how we ended up going to three Astros games in less than a week. I know, doesn't this sound like the most fun story to read on a Wednesday morning? 

Hot diggity dog! An Astros game! If you remember from here my love of baseball runs real deep. That's right, folks. Sporting events  = Dippin' Dots = me loving all sporting events = me loving baseball on a deep level. So paying $8 for a ticket to a place where I could pay $8+ for a tiny scoop of Dippin' Dots?! That sounds totally fair. Sign me up. 

The next morning, Friday September 8, I received this text: the astros play sunday night too. and arrieta is pitching... oooh $9 tickets. DONE. we're going!!!!!!

I was all those exclamation points worth excited too for two games. Double the D. Dots for $17 in tickets? Like I said, sign this sugar coma girl the heck up. I will always overpay for Dippin' Dots if I can underpay for a baseball ticket.

Fast forward about eight hours on Friday and I received this text while teaching: we may be going to the astros tonight. i got free tickets on reddit!!!!!!!

Okay, let's be real with one another for a second. At this point I was like the dips are good and all, buuut I was really looking forward to a Friday night consisting of a strong drink that didn't cost $10 and AC. You see, Freddie has turned into some crazed baseball fan in part because of his fantasy team. When we're at home MLB TV is on at all times. When we're not at home it might still be on for Lupe... When we're not at home Freddie's baseball app is open and off to the side at all times. Whenever I suggest watching something different Rick nicely reminds me that Jake Arrieta does Pilates. And that I need to get a Pilates job for a baseball team one day. And just like Dippin' Dots makes me love baseball, anything Pilates related should make me love it, as well. 

So off we went to the game Friday. Free seats, three rows back, and the best view of Jason Hayward's behind. As any intelligent human beings would do, the amount of money saved on tickets went straight towards beer for Ricky. Think how much we saved! <<<things I say after spending $$ at Target, but saving by using my Cartwheel app and RedCard. 

And then off we went to the game on Sunday night! Three hundred rows back, and a squinty-eyed view of Jake Arrieta's Pilates pitching bod.

And then off we will go in approximately ten hours for $1 hot dog night. Don't worry, it'll still be $10 beer night so don't get too excited. We'll be about two hundred rows back this time, with a good view of hundreds of people stuffing dollar hot dogs in their mouths. 

Oh I'm sorry, did you notice something was missing from the past three paragraphs? Two simple words. A million little bitty cold ice cream nibs. That's right, APPARENTLY DIPPIN DOTS AREN'T SOLD AT THE GAMES ANYMORE. Blue Bell just had to go and fix their listeria problem, and people of Texas just have to go ape bleep over Blue Bell ice creams, and b squared just had to kick out d squared from the stadium. 

Don't worry about me though, guys. Really, there are three really positive perks about these three baseball games that almost make up for my lack of Dippins. 

one

Because Texas is Texas and thinks it is the one and only giant slice of heaven on Earth, you get to sing Deep In The Heart Of Texas during the seventh inning stretch. Literally this is my most favorite part of the entire game. Also singing this song might be one of my most favorite reasons to live in Texas... 

two

People watching. The woman in front of us on Friday night had a perm straight outta 1983. I almost spent more time staring at her hair than staring at the game. It was so...fried. And curly. And I'm not trying to describe Arby's curly fries here. 

three

Since Freddie and I were the poor fans on Sunday we had to travel up and down all the floors of the stadium to get to our seats. As we walked down an escalator we were stopped by an employee who not-so-kindly told us that we were not allowed to walk down the escalator. My reaction was to cringe in fear because I just got in trouble, and slowly ride down the next two escalators. Freddie's reaction? To continue walking down the next two escalators saying: Babe, did you just hear what that man said?! I think that just might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Yep. It is. Just decided. I can't walk down stairs?! These are stairs!

At that point he was too far ahead of rules-following-me for me to be able to hear him anymore. 

On that note, I'm off to start getting ready to ride not walk down escalators, not eat Dippin Dots, and cheer for the 'Stros! Like they say, Never let the fear of striking out of Dippin Dots keep you from playing or going to the game. 

Or something. Over and out. 

tidying up

Okay, let's take care of some housekeeping.

Housekeeping One | We went bike riding on Monday. I didn't die of heat exhaustion, and I only complained 10% of the bike riding complaining I usually do. Also, also, also...my crotch survived so we're just winning on all levels.

Housekeeping Two | Freddie's doing another giant puzzle so our dining room table is out of commission for the time being...

good thing we eat on the couch anyways. 

Housekeeping Three | I spent about 1.5 hours rearranging the liquor bottles and wine glasses we have out, and I have literally never felt more productive. Get at me, Pinterest. Get at me! 

Housekeeping Four | We've had a ready-to-take-to-Goodwill pile sitting in the living room for about...three months. It's still there, and some days I really care and other days I don't. I guess if I really cared I would have taken it to Goodwill by now. 

Housekeeping Five | On a similar note, sometimes when Freddie leaves things out I decide not to play my usual role of nagging wife and instead I play a game of How Long Will It Take Freddie To Notice Said Item Is Out And In The Way Without Me Saying Anything. It's such a fun game. One time a suitcase lived in the middle of our bathroom floor for fourteen days. Guys, you can't buy entertaining games like this. Priceless!

Housekeeping Six | Costco is still the the knees on multiple bees, just in case you were wondering. 

Housekeeping Seven | Do you like podcasts? Then you need to listen to My Favorite Murder. Do you like true crime? Then you need to listen to My Favorite Murder. Do you like things in this world that are good? Then you need to listen to My Favorite Murder. Do you want to keep reading my questions or do you want to just go ahead and listen to My Favorite Murder?

Housekeeping Eight | I never had acne growing up. I mean, I had the occasional zit that looked like Mt. Vesuvius and that I decided was a token of my world ending, but somehow the world didn't end, I was able to keep living and riding bikes (eye roll), and my body decided to wait until I was 27 to give me the real world's ending acne. Here's hoping I can find a skincare regimen that makes my face look sparkly and thirteen to eighteen-ish again.

Well, that's about all we've got folks as far as cleaning and organizing. I'm off to go actually clean our apartment, and maybe spend another hour or four moving around useless knick knacks. Happy Hump Day indeed!

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when costco is a go

Freddie and I have been debating getting a Costco membership for awhile now. 

^^^sounds like it should be the first line of a great screenplay, right? Nothing like the average American couple and their #thestruggleisreal probs. 

But seriously, this struggle was real because have you ever done the math on if a Costco membership is worth it? No? Me either. But Ricky did, and it looked complicated to me. 

I was too busy taking pictures of Freddie doing to the math to do any math myself. 

We got so serious about getting a membership that two weekends we went in. Cue the angelic music. We slipped in by the Greeter by telling him that we wanted to talk memberships, but instead of that we walked all around. We talked about what we would buy, priced things, and...ate every single sample being served. Read it was a lot of samples. Then we decided that we still weren't ready to bite the bullet, so instead we needed to order and bite a $1.50 hot dog and drink. 

But even then we weren't ready to bite the bullet, so we left. 

And that was that.

Until this past weekend after 2.5 more hours of research and Reddit reading, we finally did it. We went in, we bought the membership, we bought enough gum to fill every junk drawer in the apartments on our floor, and we left. Can I just say that the past few days of this Costco member high have been wonderful?! Freds made turkey meatballs last night, and I didn't feel guilty eating them all because I knew we still have four pounds of ground turkey with which to cook. 

We've got enough Brussel sprouts to satisfy for roasted Brussels sprouts cravings for at least the entire week. 

Who needs some broccoli?! The entire city of Houston? Great, we've got all 2.1 mil of you covered. 

I'll be carrying a Perrier bottle with me any time you see me for the next six to eight months so be on the lookout for that green bottle attached to my hands and the third and fourth shelves in our refrigerator. 

And the thing is...you think I'm saying all these things in a tongue-in-cheek way. I'm not. Costco is literally the greatest thing ever, and I literally can't wait to make the biggest mess feeding turkey broccoli dinners to all of Houston because I've got all the paper towel rolls I need to clean up the 2.1mil person mess! Holla.

Other exciting adult things:

1) when my credit card is all paid off

2) the 11.3 minutes when all the laundry in the house is clean

3) when I remember to make a to-do list

4) four weeks later when I remember I made a to-do list and can go back and look at it

5) when I clean the toilet and Freddie hasn't used it yet

6) when I remember to schedule a doctor's appointment and I only have to wait three months to go in instead of six

7) Clorox wipes

8) dry cleaners

9) sleeping in...until 7:30am

10) a full tank of gas that someone else (read Freddie) filled up for me

Now who wants super healthy cheap Costco pizza for lunch? 

three

I am easily swayed. Feed me a line that sounds halfway decent and reasonable, and suddenly I 100% agree with you/back you up. Liberal arts college was a hard one for me because I started to believe Debater #1, but then really fell for whatever points Debater #2 brought to the table. By the end of class I was really confused about what we were even discussing, much less what my true feelings about said subject were. Can I just be on everyone's side? Some might call my easily persuaded-ness a character flaw, but I prefer to file it under character trait. Trait makes it sound more respectable in a cute way, and I want nothing in this world if not to be respectable in a cute way.

All of this just means that I'm not really sure what my true thoughts are on the ins and outs of marriage. They (when in life do we find out who the overruling they is/are?!) always say never speak badly about your spouse to others. They say never go to bed angry. They say put the other first. They say don't fight.

But then they also say do open up to others about the hardships of marriage so that you know you're not alone. They say sometimes going to bed angry and cooling off is a good thing. They say put God first, and the rest will fall into place. They say do fight, and be nice about it. 

Well what the bushel and a peck am I supposed to believe?! How can I be successful in our marriage if no one tells me what is the right way?!

Spoiler alert: there is no right way! !! !!! !!!!

I think if this past year of marriage taught me anything, it's that You Do You, Me Do Me. <---grammar for the win. I feel like every year of our three-year old marriage has tested us in different ways, and I know the obstacles and challenges and tests will just keep coming. This year felt like a big test to me. I had to choose to trust Freddie above all. I had to choose not to plan all the things. I had to choose to just chill the bleep out (Freddie, if you're reading this, I'm still practicing on all these things ;)) Because no matter where we live, how much money we do or don't have in our bank accounts, or how many trips we do or don't take, in the end we are together. We were together every past 365th day. We woke up, we did us, y'all did y'all, and somehow it's already August 24th again?! Magic. 

It's okay not to have answers. It's okay to read all the marital advice, but just roll your eyes. It's okay sometimes to confide in a friend about marriage, but also sometimes not to. It's okay. You're okay. We're okay.

And marriage? Marriage is better than okay. It's fantastic. 

As we get farther from our wedding day it makes me sad that when I close my eyes it takes me longer to try and capture the feelings from that day. The excitement. The nerves. The happiness. The love. It takes me a little longer to remember the tiny details that I swore I'd never forget. But any time I look and see Ricky's smirky smile or hear his infectious laugh, I remember all that I need to remember.

And what I remember is that I'm happy, healthy, and so in lurve with that Freddiefriend of mine. 

Happy Three Years, Rick! 

lupe the icebreaker

The weather in Houston this past weekend was...weird. Weird in that it wasn't 105 degrees with 90% humidity. It was 89 degrees with 45% humidity which is what I can only imagine Antarctica must feel like. 

But really, it was cold for a Houston summer day. Cold here means not unbearably hot, just so we're all clear. 

We did what any sane-we've-been-living-in-our-own-sweat-for-three-straight-months kind of people would do and went the freak outside. You see, summer in Texas means you are pale because you spend all your time inside places where the AC is blasting, and the sun is not shining. But Sunday, oh this past Sunday, it was dreamy! Cloudy. Breezy once every three or four hours. We might have even sung Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, won't you please not shine down on me! 

JK we didn't sing that, but now I want to rewind so that we can sing that. Rick does love to sing with me. Not. 

Anyways, us getting out and about went down how it goes every. single. time. we decide to do something outside. 

Rick: Wanna do something?

Em: Chyeah!

Rick: Wanna bike ride?

Em: Absolutely not.

Rick: You never bike ride with me.

Em: False. Read my blog for Example A, B, C, and D. 

Rick: Let's go for a walk!

Em: ...interesting. I can get down with a walk.

^^^I was eating my words up there when we were 3 miles and 1.5 hours into the walk and Freddie decided he wanted to go just a little bit farther. 

And then just a little bit farther. Suddenly the Antarctica type Houston weather felt more like real Houston weather.

And oh, we are so close to insert bar name here that we might as well just walk there! That's when any trace of the day feeling nice out vanished, and suddenly I felt like we were walking through water. Hot water. 

By the time we got to said bar and could sit down and get a drink I was over it. I was over the sweat. I was over the fact that I had showered that morning. What a waste! Why do I keep washing my hair in Houston's summer? Over it.

And that's when we made our new best friends. You see, having a dog is (I'm assuming) like having a child. Suddenly everyone thinks they can come over to you because your dog/baby happens to be the best ice breaker. Everybody wants to pet your dog/hold your baby. Everybody wants to hear your dog/baby stories. In this case, everybody happened to be two very happy (read very intoxicated) people. 

We heard about their dogs. We heard about their trips. We heard about their 25th wedding anniversary. We heard about his dad's fourth marriage, and her parent's divorce and then remarriage to each other. We heard about their trip to Cancun. We heard about how they save to go to Cancun. We heard about how years one and two were the hardest in their marriage.

And to think! We found out all this information about strangers because of our dog! So lucky!

We finished our drinks and started the hour plus walk back in the heat-but-not-heat, only for it to start raining within minutes of our return, which honestly kind of felt like we won the lottery. Lupe and I passed out and somehow Freddie took this cutest picture ever that I love. I don't even care how ridiculous...ly cute it is. 

And you know what? Up until I sat down to write this blog I was on the side of the fence where I wanted to complain about strangers approaching us because of our dog. Because people definitely did not come up to us to be our new best friends when we were dog less. 

But now, now that I'm typing it out and reliving it in my head you know what?! I jumped the fence and I'm now on the side where while I think it's pretty weird that strangers approached us and told us their life stories over beer, who cares. They were friendly, they loved the Lups, and most important of all, they were having FUN.

May you all go out with your dogs and have some real, good, genuine FUN on this hump day. 

The end.

currently: the just last week one

Sometimes when I'm thinking about stuff that happened last week I think back to how much fun our New Year's Eve party was.

...and then I remember that New Year's Eve was thirty one weeks ago instead of last week, and then my mind is blown. 

So hey, August! Nice of you to come storming in. To come in like a wrecking ball! There, that's the analogy I want. August, you came in like a wrecking ball. 

Currently I am...

hearting //
Everyone and their grandma is doing the whole Love Your Spouse challenge on Facebook. Which is great! Seriously. I heart the crap out of my spouse, and I would much rather read your seven days worth of Loving Your Spouse stuff than read any political Facebook argument. I am currently hearting him.

watching //
We've started re-watching The Office. And even though it's our eleventeenth time watching it, I still laugh/cringe just as hard at every word out of Michael Scott's mouth.

exploring //
Cooler fall like weather comes with the appearance of August, right? Hahahahaha, kidding. Not in Houston, anyways. However, mentally August is a cooler month than July, so we have big plans to get out and explore more of Houston. Nothing says Fall is coming! quite like 108 degrees with 60% humidity.

creating //
Have you ever heard of Bullet Journal? If not I'm going to need you to stop reading this sentence after the period and go stalk the hashtag #bulletjournal or #bulletjournaling on Insta.

...

Isn't it amazing?! My friend Ruth, who is my organizing/cleaning/emotional/etiquette soul mate, shared it with me over the weekend, and I have looked at way, way, way too many not enough Instagrams of the creative process of bullet journaling. I've started doodling around with it, and can't wait to get fancy pens so I can play around with it even more.

Ugh! Did you read that?! Fancy pens?! Get on my adult level of fun.

eating //
I have finally given into the Brussels Sprouts phenomenon and at any given moment during the day I think I could eat a bowl full of roasty toasty b sprouts.

What are you currently doing?

Linking up with Anne!

thundermatzoballsoup

Exactly 219 days ago Freddie received the 007 collection on Blu-ray. Exactly 213 days ago we decided to do weekly 007 date nights and cook a themed dinner while going through all the Bond movies. Exactly 176 days ago I posted this from the last movie we watched, Goldfinger--movie #3 in the series.

And here we are today, August 1, these 176 days later, and I can finally give you that 007 date night update for which you've been itching. 

We did it! We finally got to #4, Thunderball! It only took five or six months, but we did it. The early bird may get the worm, but the late bird gets the...

gets the...

Matzo ball soup. <<which is exactly what we (Freddie) cooked for Thunderball.

I had never had matzo ball soup before, and sadly my only run-in with anything matzo was the  matzo crackers "bread" during communion at church. I was assuming that matzo ball soup was not just soup was matzo crackers thrown in it, and I was right.

It really is so hard to be as smart I as am. Wink.

As per usual, Ricky was 100x more eager than I was (or ever am or will be) about cooking. This meant I sat and took pictures and ate candy while we (he) made soup and matzo balls from scratch.

 FYI: if you're ever in Houston and needing matzo meal, just know that the Kroger on Montrose does NOT have any. Also, if you ask me to pick up some from Whole Foods after work, I'll probably forget to do that too. So. You know. Be prepared.

 This recipe called for rutabaga. I literally did not even realize rutabaga was a real thing. But it is, and it's right there in your local grocery store. Right by the beets. The beets! Rutabaga! It's even at the Kroger on Montrose. Crazy. 

Lupe was ever-so optimistic that'd he get a little drop of chicken. I almost think he deserved a little piece for how long he sat like that with his neck craned up. I mean, he at least deserved a little neck massage after those fifteen minutes, right? 

Ta-da! 

Phew. That was hard work. The waiting, I mean. Freddie cooked as gracefully as ever, and I was as impatient and hangry as ever. But it was worth the wait and SHOOT! Are matzo balls delicious or what?! Why didn't you ever tell me that before?

Up next is You Only Live Twice so...we've got nothing. That'll probably take another five or six months to figure out that doozy of a themed dinner. See y'all in February. 

Good news is that cats have nine lives which is more that two which means we won't be eating cats.

^^that's weird and gross. My b. 

Dinner recaps:

Dr. Gnocchi (Dr. No)

From Russia With Loaf (From Russia With Love)

Gold chicken fingers with golden slaw (Goldfinger)

Thunder matzo ball soup (Thunderball)

catch-up not ketchup

Whenever I come to this space I feel like I have to write something awesome. Something thought-provoking. Something important with a sprinkle of I'm-not-trying-to-be-funny-yet-somehow-I'm hilarious. I always accomplish this subtle hilarity, I know I know. Wink. 

But you know what? There are other times when I just really want to write about how dang cute my dog is, okay? Okay. 

 Oh look! It is my dog who is so dang cute! Let's talk more about this!

A lot has happened in the twenty-eight days since I last posted. <<That is me completely owning how long it has been since I wrote on here. I will now give you the world's quickest photo summary of what those twenty-eight days included...

One of my best friends, who also happened to be my college roommate, got married. It was probably the most personal wedding I've ever been to, and yes, I did cry. You would have too if you have been there.

We vacationed in Chicago and drank a lot of wine. In related news, we also ate a lot. 

My birthday happened, no new grey hairs have been found, and I got to celebrate birthday week with Wi! We were too busy having fun to take a better picture than this gem. 

In case you were wondering, we still haven't gotten a bathroom counter tray or a floor lamp, but we did finally hang a few things. 

I took a very unplanned and unexpected trip home for a couple days last week, and I think I spent 90% of the time tearing up over how wonderful family is. 

We went beach camping in the Texas summer for a friend's birthday which despite the feels like 109 degrees was insanely fun. 

That brings us to today. Today will consist of me doing laundry, taking more pictures of my cute dog, and possibly unpacking some more of the new apartment because I finished teaching at 7am this morning. 

Today will be a great day. Because I said so.

What have you been up to in the last twenty-eight days?!

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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.