in bed with emma

i know i've said this 100 times before, but i REALLY might make this a standard type of entry. especially if it's the morning after going to a pre-new year's party and i'm too comfortable in my bed to go sit at my desk like a true writer/typer.

                                                

In Bed! With Emma (and a cup of Joe)

as i sit/lay drinking my cup of delicious vanilla hazelnut coffee from einstein's (we met in college and have been inseparable ever since), i want to give you 3 things to consider today:

1) getting away with walking around completely naked with your windows wide open is SO much better when you live on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 20th floor of your apartment complex. there really is slim to no chance you're going to be spied on or caught in your birthday suit. it's much more freeing. so, if you're secretly an exhibitionist at heart like yours truly, consider this next time you move.

2) if you have crazy, quirky habits that you have to convince yourself are normal, it's okay. and you ARE normal by trying to make yourself believe you're normal. i know it's been said, many times, many ways, but: weird is so much better than boring. i'd rather be lady gaga than calista flockhart, ya know? i'd rather eat a chipotle burrito than a plain, standard taco with just meat and cheese. i would rather be known for writing crassly and absurdly than for writing empty, methodical essays. YOU GET IT?

3) i think my eyelashes fall out more frequently than is considered normal, which is really depressing seeing as though i don't have thick, luxurious lashes to begin with. shit.

that's all. just 3 things at a time. i don't want to overload your brain like i do to mine on a daily, minute, second basis.

enjoy your day!

-emma

shortest film of all time: A Twisted Jewish Christmas

good evening ladies and gentleman, and thank you for choosing emma's blog as your home theatre tonight.

the incredibly short film you are about to view is its world premiere and you have a front row seat. feel special. i promise by the strands of my curly hair that this will be the first of MANY more video postings to come.

tonight, i give you: A Twisted Jewish Christmas. consider it a small peek into how i was raised and why i am the way i am. it may only be a few seconds, but it will rock you (that's what he said).

and scene!

-emma

they all came faithfully and we ate cake

does everyone have a christmas hangover? good. i will keep this simple and easy to process.

i made some changes to the blog, most of which you probably wouldn't notice unless i wrote this to point them out. imagine me in a "price is right" gown, showing you around the blog like one of bob barker's ladies.

over to the right, below my profile description, i have listed a handful of websites i thoroughly enjoy and that i figured you might as well. they're all sassy and hilarious in their own way, and the recipes on the WTFSIMFD website are actually incredibly advanced and delicious.

at the end of each post, i have changed the options of the little reaction boxes. what used to be: funny, intriguing, and effed up, now say: "this post made me: LOL, dry heave, question myself." i want all the interaction i can get from my readers. please do not feel shy to maybe make it a habit to click one of the boxes after every new post you read. it's fun for me to see how you feel after reading my stuff. also, while we're on the subject, never talk yourself out of leaving a comment if you feel so inclined. like i said, the more interaction the better. let's grow this blogger to bloggee relationship as fruitfully as we can.

the last 2 changes are as follows:

i am now only displaying 3 blog posts at a time as to not overwhelm you with words and verbosity.

at the very end of the main page, my top-read posts of the last 30 days will be continuously displayed to show you guys what you read/enjoyed the most!

so there you have it. nothing too major, but amping it up in small doses nonetheless.

oh and i will soon be incorporating video into posts, so GET READY.

love,
emma

bleeding gums and leotards

i was thinking the other day (something i do often) and compiled a top 3 list in my head. i'll let you take a guess what the category was:

a) sisterly moments
b) chipotle combinations
c) nicki minaj songs

if you guessed b or c, i like the way you think, but you're wrong (for the record, i have one chipotle combination i never stray from and "save me" "muny" and "super bass" are my new favorite nicki songs).

for no reason whatsoever, i decided on 3 key moments from my childhood that involve my sister and that really made an impression on me. as a disclaimer, all of these memories took place in our childhood home of stamford, connecticut. without further adieu, let's proceed:


moment #3: our first attempt at a piggy back ride

we were around the ages of 5 and 6. one boring, east coast day, allie suggested we test out this phenomenon we had heard whisperings of called a "piggy back ride." highly doubting her little self could support my little self (and probably having no clue what the term "doubting" meant), i agreed to test the muddy waters (pig pun completely intended). she instructed me to climb onto the living room couch and mount her back. once securely wrapped around her like a baby monkey, she took a step and a half forward, and as though it was in slow motion, our bodies fell straight forward in one smooth, crashing motion. i landed directly on my face and came up with bleeding gums.

PROFUSELY bleeding gums. i screamed. allie screamed. my mom ran in and screamed. everything past that is a blur, but i do remember laying on the cold kitchen floor tile while my mom held a wet rag to my gums, all the while berating my sister: "WHY did you do this? do you see what you did your sister? her gums are BLEEDING, allie! BLEEDING!" my poor sister. so caring, so maternal by nature. she probably wanted to throw herself off of something for wronging her little cub. but i guess that's what you get for braving the elements and by elements i mean a piggy back ride.


moment #2: the leaning tower of allie's bookcase

my sister had this old wooden bookcase in her bedroom in connecticut (that actually now resides in my parent's house in plano). in it were not only series upon series of books, but her stereo, vases, trinkets, etc. one boring, east coast afternoon, i sauntered into her room to browse her collection of reading material as i was bored and wanted to treat it like the local library (side note: i use to be the BIGGEST book worm. i actually really miss it and wish i hadn't stopped. alcohol, boys and life get in the way, though. in that order).

anyhoo, i crouched down in front of the bottom of the bookcase where the main collection of books were stowed. "hmm," i thought to myself. "babysitter's club or another stab at trying to get into the nancy drew novels?" it was then that i decided to rest both of my arms on either bookcase door and distribute my entire body weight to the very bottom fourth of the bookcase itself. again, as if in slow motion, i looked up and realized the bookcase was slowly, but surely falling over. i don't remember doing it, but i must've let out a scream, because RIGHT as the bookcase was coming down and about to smash me clear in the head, my sister rounded the corner into her bedroom and dove over my body, sacrificing herself to the falling bookcase.

amazing, right? she freaking saved my life (kind of). unfortunately, the bookcase still nicked my head just a bit, and again, i found myself in my mother's arms with a wet washcloth being held to my scalp. but, the point is.... allie was an 8-year-old superhero.


moment #1 (the best one): gymnastics gone wrong

allie and i were those kids who were forced into gymnastics against our will, pretended to be decent at the bars, and only really looked forward to hiding in the foam-cube pit at the end of each session. the leotards were also a huge plus. i had one that was black and hot pink with tiny pink hearts all over it and more or less never took it off - gymnastics or not.

one night on the drive home, my sister and i both realized we each really needed to tinkle... badly. it's all we talked about the entire way home. mind you, this is still around the ages of 6 and 7. as soon as we got into the house, allie made a bee-line for the downstairs bathroom. having to pee so bad i was crippled, i could do nothing but stand directly in front of her as she peed, all the while exclaiming "HURRY, ALLIE! PLEASE!!!" and do you know what that little bitch did? took her fucking time. not only did she continue to announce how good it felt to pee, but she purposely moved as slowly as she could, taking a full minute to gather toilet paper from the roll. no worries, though. i retaliated. i peed all over the floor. that's right. instead of a) going upstairs to the second bathroom or b) having control over my body, i let loose all over the floor as she screamed. and i'll tell you this.... it felt GOOD.

my top 3 sisterly moments. there are hundreds more, but these are the ones that branded my connecticut childhood.

love you, sissy. :)

-emma

revolutionary movie plots

i just came up with some (what i think to be) brilliant movie plots. here i am, just sitting in my apartment, and BAM! these genius ideas smack me square in the face.

1) boy doesn't know he's a wizard and goes to wizarding school <--- WHAT?! genius.

2) a psychotic cannibal has to help a rookie detective get to the bottom of a serial killer's case <--- WHERE do i come up with this stuff?

3) a woman decides she's going to make every recipe out of a famous chef's cookbook from beginning to end, and blog's about every recipe experience. she becomes famous and writes a book <--- so good, it's stupid.

4) a quirky, intellectual, and detached family are brought back together by the father faking his own fatal stomach cancer, and the non-blood brother and sister are secretly crazy in love with one another <--- i'm gonna stop here as to not make you even more jealous of my crafty screenwriting ideas than you already are.

just call me emma sofia coppola wes anderson jk rowling i'm an idiot golden.

-escwajriaig

hola! guttentag! and hi.

i wanted to give a shout out to my international audience - that's right. upon checking my blog's stats, i see that people from all over the country do/have read my blog. whaaaat? how do you guys find me? are you even real?

here are the stats from this month:

United States 1,184

Canada 24

United Kingdom 17

Argentina 4

Netherlands 3

Belgium 2

Croatia 2

Denmark 1

Egypt 1

France 24 canadians, 17 brits, 4 argentians?! EGYPT?  pretty neat stuff, if i do write so myself - and i do. and did. well, now my margins are all messed up, so i'll keep this short. i can't thank you all in enough languages! i really have no idea how you found me or if you even meant to, but i hope you continue to read and enjoy. also, feel free to send care packages with your country's trinkets and delicacies. maybe i'll do a blog tour (not really). this is international emma saying adios, ciao, and shalom.

why so serious-ah?

here is my serious side: Action! Why the Celebrity Obsession Should Be Cut an article by yours truly.

i decided to step away from my word vomit ways, but only briefly. for this is my one true love, and you know what they say...... it's too early to be funny.

love,
emma

i could make a meal out of this! (and i did)

good evening and welcome to "baking with emma." on tonight's episode, emma will share her story of the first time she ever baked dessert at the ripe age of 23. how she had gotten away with only funfetti feats and pre-packaged treats thus far in her food-centric life is baffling, but herein begins the story of baking THESE.

it started out like this:

now, you may be asking yourself: "club crackers?" so did i, my skeptical bitches. but as i learned last night, club crackers can do extraordinary things when meshed with the right ingredients.

i was nervous. i really haven't ever truly baked before unless it was a box of cake. this could have something to do with that fact that, up until recently, my sweet tooth was more like a fair-weathered friend who only really called or texted if they needed something or were bored. i'll put it to you this way - i'd rather polish off a full dinner with a chipotle burrito than a piece of cake (i really do have a problem with chipotle). however, maybe it's the stressors of the real world or maybe my "let's pack on the fat" switch kicked into high gear out of nowhere, but i get these cravings for sweets lately that are run-for-your-life-if-i-don't-get-fed terrifying. so, i decided to tap into my extreme domestic side and try my small, chubby hands at baking.

the first step was lining the pan with the club crackers. "easy enough," said i to myself out loud in my kitchen alone. the only tricky part was that said crackers didn't measure up perfectly, so a tiny strip awaited at the bottom of the pan for me to sloppily cover with crumbled cracker bits. see here:

shrug. whatevs. i did what i could. something deep inside me told me not to fret and that it would all work out (probs my stomach angel), so i trekked forward.

"BAKING PARTY FOUL!" i screamed, upon haphazardly filling my cups with brown and white sugars. i thought i had remembered watching my mom take the cups and dig them into the actual containers of sugar, flour, etc then smooth them out buttttt.... i think i did something wrong because i found even more sugar on my floors this morning. whoops. i guess a true artist can't be too clean, literally and figuratively (?).

then, i went to measure out the 1 cup of butter. since i'm an ama-tour, i had to read the measurements on the actual stick itself twice to make sure i wasn't seeing things. 2 full sticks of butter = 1 cup. all righty then. away we go (and by "we" i mean my dignity):

haaaaay. it's the Jewish Paula Deen, y'all! i love butter in a pan almost as much as i love it on top of matzvah! ooo y'all! the smell of this butter reminded me of my little bubbie's tucus. that's right. my non-existent Jewish grandchild's ass smells like butta. like BUTTA.

mmm mmm. then came the mixture of the graham cracker crumbs, brown sugar, regular sugar, vanilla extract, butter and a little more dignity into the pan. it was at this point i realized "oh. i was supposed to use a saucepan. not a skillet. no wonder i'm worrying about how the hell i'm gonna pour this onto the crackers without spilling all of it." again, ama-tour.

the layering began. crackers, sex mixture, crackers, sex mixture. the smell wafting up into the air from that skillet was indescribable. i just kept exclaiming, "OH! OHHHHH MY. OH. OH," until the neighbor upstairs yelled as loud as she could, "I'LL HAVE WHAT YOU'RE HAVING!" (not really, but oh my God would that have not been hilarious?)

then, the topping. melted butterscotch morsels with nutella mixed in. WHAT? WHAT DID I JUST WRITE? yeah. i looked in the mirror after spreading this on top of all the crackers and there was nutella all over my chin. shrug.

into the fridge it went for a good hour and 15 minutes to harden. the recipe states if it stays harder for more than 4 hours to call a doctor. luckily, that wasn't the case here.

emma's baking show has been sponsored tonight by:

THE GYPSY WAGON! the best boutique in dallas, hands down. i just wanted to plug them here by showing off the mercury glass votives i purchased the other day, as well as the scarf that i don't ever want to take off. good thing dallas is 70 degrees in december so i have a lot of use for it, right?

okay and drumroll please.....................

amazing. seriously incredible. in case you missed it up there, the recipe can be found here. it came from a baking contest that the dallas morning news hosts every holiday season, and the picture looked so good, i had to try it out. they disable your speech entirely - that's why they got the #1 spot in the contest.

so there you have it, folks. i realize i didn't technically "bake" - i heated up sauce and refrigerated goodies. BUT STILL. baby steps.


we'll see you next time on...... baking! with em!ma!

-emma

strip me down naked

did i get your attention with that title? good, good. that was my plan. now that i have you here......

why is it SO difficult to tell someone their fly is undone? we ask each other all the time "do i have food in my teeth?" or "will you tell me if my skirt moves over 2 degrees to the left?" but when it comes to our zippers being unzipped, it's probably the most awkward thing to have to point out to someone.

i guess it's because, i mean, that's their.... ahem..... lady or man parts RIGHT THERE. it's not like telling someone they have a piece of food on their face or that their hair is falling out of its up do. it's basically saying to someone, "listen... i don't want to alarm you, however, your genitalia is about 10 seconds away from exposing itself without your consent or, at the very least, drawing serious attention to itself without you knowing."

the victim of the forgotten zipper could be the most buttoned-up and put together person you've ever seen, but if that zipper is undone.... fuggedaboutit. it's like if kate middleton were to be sporting some jeggings while you're sipping tea with her highness, having a gay ole time when suddenly you see that her crotch area looks like the eye of sauron from lord of the rings (a black abyss). that zipper is supposed to be there to nonverbally say "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!!"

we should all try a little harder to check each other's groin areas on a daily basis, purely for preventive reasons.



as an aside: should i be weirded out/concerned if my wax lady texts me on the weekend, inviting me to go dancing with her?....


-emma out

just a quick (visual) wrap-up to the weekend

this isn't gonna be long. i just wanted an excuse to post the following pictures, because what you see in them was so good, i can't even begin to describe it on here. i'd have to describe it in person with a lot of facial expressions and grunting noises like "mmm" and "uhhhhh." shame on me for not adding dream cafe to my top three brunch picks in dallas. ah well. you live, you eat, you take a nap from being so full, and you learn... right?

the Dream benedict. this was mine. looking at it makes me want to weep because i miss it.

the Austin tacos. sophie's choice. hahahaha. meryl streep. anyway, they were good.

the Santa Fe omelet. funny thing is, no santa fe was used in the making of this omelet.

i gotta go and make a sunday dinner, but i hope this blog post made you want to go to dream cafe, and if it didn't, you're insane in the membrane. insane in the brain.

-emma

hungry? why wait/why not read my article?

hay guyz. my latest submission to Associated Content was just published!!!!!

if you live in the greater Dallas area and you're looking for a delicious place to plant your butt on a lazy Sunday, i suggest you give it a read and spread it among your friends and fam!

as always, thank you for reading -- whoever you are......


-emma

my one story that is close to "taking candy from a stranger"

as children, we tend to hear the same phrases over and over:

"don't take candy from a stranger"
"don't answer the door until you've checked to see who it is"
"don't eat the dog's food. i know it tastes good, trust me. i've had my moments. but it's just not normal, honey."

last fall, when i had just moved back to my hometown to start adulthood, i suppose i had my first and last stranger-danger brain fart. it was a dark and stormy night (no, really), and i was making my weekly nighttime grocery run to the market that's central to the center of town. it was a particularly heavy-handed grocery night - i had a lot of bags and not enough arms. somehow, though, i managed to assemble everything on my body and carry it out to my car. i had just finished closing the backdoor and climbing into my driver's seat when i heard a rap on the passenger's window.

let me remind you, it really WAS dark and stormy. it was during whatever month it was more or less monsooning here in dallas. so, needless to say, i was flustered as hell with all of my groceries and bags and plastic getting wet and trying to get into my car and back to the bat cave.

so, back to the window rapping. it was all like "yo yo yo and a hoe hoe hoe, put me down fast and i'll make ya drive slow!" no, but it was a woman who had knocked on the passenger's window. she was standing out in the pouring rain, so i guess my last ounce of human decency kicked in and i actually ROLLED THE WINDOW DOWN.

i know, i know. i'm an idiot. but it happened and that's why i'm sharing it with you right now. the woman kind of looked like this:

"excuse me!" she yelled through the rain. "can you please give me a ride home? i'm with my child and we have no way of getting home."

i saw no child in sight, and it was then when my survival instincts took a huge crap all over my decency.

"no. no. sorry. i can't. no. bye."

vrrrrrooooommmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!! i went. never to see the crazy woman and her "child" again.

therein ends my story of the closest i've ever come to meeting my own end by way of stranger-danger. i hope this will serve as a lesson to all of you to not be idiots.


-emma out

they don't call me elaine for nothing

i've been told a reasonable amount of times now that i resemble elaine benes - either in looks, personality or (the ultimate compliment) BOTH. therefore, i have no problem referencing her in this blog and letting my reading audience know that a lot of the time, i feel like this (click on "this") when i'm at a doctor's office.

but all that's besides the point.

tonight, i wanted to write about the absurdities of "borrowing" certain objects. when people ask if they can "borrow" un-borrowable (made up the word, just go with it) things, i like to correct them. that may make me a sassy bitch, but i don't care, because asking to "borrow" particular things you can't technically "borrow" is just plain silly.

prime list of examples:

a sheet of paper - hey, can i borrow a sheet of paper? i'm going to write all over it, turn it in for a grade (or maybe just end up throwing it out after i scribble on it) and you'll never see it again... i promise.

an edible object - can i borrow a bag of chips? can i borrow a can of soda? would you mind if i borrowed your last fiber one bar? activia just isn't doing the trick. REGARDLESS of what the food object is, i want to borrow it, eat or drink it, and i promise i'll throw it back up to give back to you. pinky swear.

female lady products - yeah, no.

i know using the term "borrow" makes the blow of asking to just plain take something of someone's seem somewhat softened (WOW ALLITERATION AT IT'S FINEST), but we should all just man up and ask what we really mean - which is, can i HAVE that? for keeps?

while we're on the topic, though, does anyone have some advil i can borrow? i swear i'll swallow it then choke it back up like a mama bird for you. caw caw.

-emma

p.s. i didn't understand anything you just wrote

one of my very dear friends works as a 2nd grade teacher. as a daily assignment and a way of having the children reach out to the troops and keep them in mind, she had her students write letters to the soldiers for them to enjoy whilst they're in the midst of war. below is not only one of the funniest letters i've ever seen written by a child, but one of the more confusing ones. help me figure it out.

                                               

let's break this down. it says:

dear solder,

i hope you have a good day. i hope you'll come back on chismas and you so silly and your tricky when we stay with you. i want to sleep with you not my dog becus he pups.

so, to recap: obviously, this kid has some sort of personal "sidenote" relationship with the soldier she chose to write to. i mean, the guy has stayed with them before. she knows him well enough to know he's "silly" and "tricky" and she, uh, well. she wants to sleep with him. but not her dog. because he pups, which i can only assume to mean poops. poor girl. she has no idea that grown men also pup and probably pup way more than most dogs. in some cases, grown men may also drag their butts across a carpet just like a dog if they're too lazy to replace the toilet roll. 

hilarious. kids write the darndest, most unknowingly seductive things.

-emma

a habit to break

i'm about to piss a lot of readers off right now, i can feel it. but, like i've said many times before - this is my blog where i get to write down my thoughts. you're not always going to agree with everything and, if you don't, it's okay. no relationship is perfect except for the love between me and a chipotle burrito (i should probably have an entire other blog solely about chipotle).

you know what REALLY grinds my gears? people (women) who drink diet coke in the morning as their coffee substitute.

--i immediately apologize to anyone i just offended and am about to continue to offend even more. please don't write me off. please?--

WHAT THE CUSS IS THIS ABOUT? DIET COKE? AT 8AM? i don't understand it, i don't WANT to understand it, and i never will understand it. when i have my weekly sales meeting at 830am on wednesdays, and i see 3 or 4 different women sipping on their diet cokes at the conference table, i want to scream. this incredibly strong opposition to diet coke may be stemming from my natural hate for the beverage itself, but it's even worse that people choose to drink that shit first thing when they get up.

"mmmm," the enemy thinks to herself/himself. "you know what sounds REALLY delicious and comforting on yet another work morning? DIET COKE."

it's just twisted. and what makes it even worse is how it comes in the form of either a taco bueno cup or chick-fil-a cup. oh my word.

scene 1 (from above), take 2:

"mmmm," the enemy thinks to herself/himself. "you know what would be so tantalizing right now? driving through TACO BUENO at 8am to buy a diet coke. YES."

i'm sorry. i'm really overtired and pretty grumpy because of it. if i have made you angry with this entry and you not only disagree with my stance but maybe want to fight me because of it, i'll meet you out back behind the school in 15 minutes.

-emma

AFTER THOUGHT - i got published

i just recently joined the Associated Content community (thanks to the world's greatest journalism professor tweeting about it. i swear, man. social marketing) and my first ever submission was published today!

check it out here and please share with friends and family if you feel up to it - the more page views it receives, the better. and by better i mean i could get $1 out of this.

keep your eyes peeled and your hands clean!

hibernation 101

i'll tell you why people get fat during the holiday season.

because when it's this cold outside, you start finding yourself seeking shelter on your couch, under a blanket, and mindlessly eating a pound of sour blue raspberry sour coke bottles from the sweet factory until the entire bag is gone.

that's why. no other reason. huge meals with copious amounts of carbs involved? no. laziness and making excuses about having to holiday shop instead of go to the gym? nah. it's blue bottles, people. BLUE BOTTLES.

on another note, i want to address what i believe to be one of the biggest and depressing government scams the man has ever pulled on our society as a whole: reshaping my beloved TRIX cereal into balls from their original fruit shapes.

this happened a while ago... it may even be a year now. regardless, i don't get it. maybe someone can explain it to me. are they really saving money by converting the bananas and grape clusters into stupid, boring balls? don't get me wrong - it still tastes delicious and i won't stop buying boxes of it, but i just think the whole thing is a disgrace.

emma out.

spreading the encouragement and joy in one fell swoop

it's quite nice when my blog-readers come forward and express love/like/interest/hate in one of my posts. i really enjoy feedback and hearing if a certain entry stood out to you, touched you, kissed you - etc etc etc (as long as it's not creepy. ahem).

today, i received the following email from a coworker and it wrapped up my day on a very positive note, so i wanted to share. here goes:

Subject: This may be creepy but I don't care...

Message: ...and considering I am about to go crazy at this desk, I figured some entertaining blog catching up would help out. And I would just like to share that the below paragraph...

"wine - okay. call me typical, call me pretentious. but this was another one i really never pictured myself being apart of or enjoying. it's another thing that comes with age - and by age, i mean being in your early 20s and being depressed over what the real world is REALLY like and resorting to the sweet nectar of vino. suddenly, what used to taste gross and looked hoity toity, tastes like home and makes you feel accomplished and grown-up. ugh so mature."

...is quite possibly the most amazing and true statement anyone has ever documented. I have never felt closer to you than while reading this paragraph.


there ya have it folks. i suppose i do have the capability to reach out and touch my followers. if you're lucky, you could be next. WINK.

-emma

back to the grind we go

i should've never taken a week off of work. it's nice while it's happening, then you are back at your desk in your office thinking, "what is this? i just spent a week doing nothing but sleeping, shopping, eating and canoodling with hoodlums and now i'm back to this?"

the only decent news so far today is that i have a story to tell and it's only 2 o'clock on a monday - not so shabby.

my work buddy and myself decided to treat ourselves to a "depressed-we're-back-at-work" lunch today and drove down the road to the local thai joint. upon our arrival, we saw that it was pretty crowded, so when the hostess offered that we sit at the bar, we gladly accepted.

there were 3 seats open at the bar, and the last one had a glass of wine and a water in front of it - obviously occupied. so, the hostess sat at us at the 2 open seats and we gaily sat down and ordered waters. not a few moments later, a crazy woman appeared behind us. her lips were so full of collagen, i was scared they would fall off at any second. and her entire face was pulled back so tightly, she looked a cat. no, really.

"what are you doing??? i was sitting there!" the feline yelled at my friend.
"what? huh?"
"WHAT are you doing??? that was MY chair. did you not see all of my stuff on the counter?" (oh, you mean the 1 wine glass and the 1 water glass... that were both sitting at the END of the counter, NOT in front of my friend's chair?)
"i'm sorry. this is where the hostess sat us."
"well i was SITTING here. ya know what. don't worry about it," screeched the cat woman as she made her way over to the hostess.

"oh my God. what just happened?" asked my paralyzed friend.
"she's insane. she's insane." usually my insight is really deep.

she slinked back over, grabbing her glass of wine and water and throwing herself out the patio door, all the while screaming to the hostess, "NO! SHE'S RUDE. SHE SHOULD GET UP FROM MY CHAIR. THAT WAS MY CHAIR. SHE'S RUDE. SO RUDE."

let me reiterate in case you didn't understand - there were 3 chairs. the cat's belongings (and by belongings i mean glass of obvious addiction and glass of purity) were sitting in front of the very empty chair at the end of the bar. my friend and i were sitting side-by-side next to that one chair. this kitty was KRAZY.

not a moment later, she returned.
"i just want to let you know that your behavior is APPALLING. APPALLING. you should get up and give me my seat back."
"but, your stuff wasn't here and the hostess sat us here."
"YOU ARE APPALLING."

the frisky feline then proceeded to sit out on the patio, drinking her glass of wine, all the while staring deep into space (probably day dreaming of scratching her claws on a tree trunk or pooping her wine out in a kitty litter box - sorry). my friend and i pretended we were unphased, but we both couldn't relax until the woman was gone. finally, after 15 minutes of sitting outside, she came back in, walked behind us and purred "bitch."

people are crazy, folks. they really are. let's say that middle seat had been, in fact, the woman's. is she THAT phobic of people that she wasn't willing to take the end seat and actually have to sit next to humans at the bar? no. she wanted the entire 3 seats and the counter space they provide all to herself. well guess what, cat woman? halle berry herself couldn't make you better, so i'd say you're S.O.L.

here's to felines who drink red wine during the day: CHEERS! oh. oh no. hairball.

-emma

tough choices

why does it feel like every time i decide today's the day i'm going to become active, i find myself at chipotle? i guess that's just how life is.

what i'm thankful for

ah, thanksgiving. the time of year when you gather with family from near and far, get into small tiffs, eat way too much lean meat, and pass out on the couch with your mouth open and your stomach spilling over your pant line. mmm.

i feel like my family used to go around the table and say one thing we were thankful for, but i could be completely wrong. if we did, we definitely don't do it anymore. however, just in case that tradition is re-sparked this year, i have decided to compile a small list of things that i am ultra grateful for currently:

being mobile - i never thought the day would come where i was one of those lucky people who got to tweet, facebook and whathaveyou from their cell phones, but i am happy to say it happened for me this year and, although i'm sure some of the people who see all of my updates want to smash my phone and find me annoying, it's the most fun and happy thing in the world. the question isn't WHY would you want to know what i'm doing at all times and all the random word vomit thoughts i have? it's why WOULDN'T you, you stupid hoe?

lipstick - man. i fought this one forever. my mom has been wearing lips since i can remember, and i always said i would never resort to coloring my puckers. i was determined that cherry flavored chapstick was just the right tint for me. well, i was wrong. dead wrong. you come to an age where you realize how brilliant and important it is to throw some extra colour (with a "u") on your lips to feel complete. it's amazing what a certain shade of red can do for your day and outfit, and i am glad to say i am now apart of that phenomenon.

chipotle - come on.

wine - okay. call me typical, call me pretentious. but this was another one i really never pictured myself being apart of or enjoying. it's another thing that comes with age - and by age, i mean being in your early 20s and being depressed over what the real world is REALLY like and resorting to the sweet nectar of vino. suddenly, what used to taste gross and looked hoity toity, tastes like home and makes you feel accomplished and grown-up. ugh so mature.

family and friends - awwwww

cheap jewelry - you can make it look like it didn't cost $5 at the XXI. amazing.

that's all i can dish out for now. i think that's a pretty decent list, and i also think that if i were to read this off at the table on thanksgiving night, it would be very well received, don't you?

happy thanksgiving to all and to all a good day,

emma

well there goes that

i just wanted to share with everyone that i was just in the middle of leaving a voicemail for someone and got so caught up in clearly stating my cell number that i said:

"that's 555-555-5555 and i really look hearing thank you"

yes. i "really look hearing thank you." not, "i really look forward to hearing back from you." no.

i

really

look

hearing

thank

you.

no, no. thank YOU, idiot girl for leaving such a stupid, funny message on my voicemail for me to laugh at later on.

ugh.

ye olden times

would it be that bad to have to do work by candle light nowadays? we're so spoiled by light bulbs that we forget how much light a single candle can give us. it's fun, i think. i wouldn't be opposed to at least experimenting for a weekend or so with only candles for my source of lighting. give me 5 or 7 pumpkin scented candles from bed bath and body works (i confuse the two store names, so i just like to combine them now) and i'd be set with delicious smelling light. mmm. light so good you can taste it!

in other news, i just want every girl out there with ultra sensitive facial skin to know they should NEVER use kate somerville's products:

i decided to try her "gentle" daily wash and my face now looks as though i decided to stick my head in a bath full of liquid poison ivy for fun - YAY! that's right. mix in a vat of lavender scent into a sensitive skin face wash - because anyone who's anyone knows that loading up a sensitive skin product with lots of fragrance is JUST the trick to transform you into quasimoto. i have quarantined myself for today and will be ringing the bell tower's bell within the hour.

-emma

she's done it again, folks

oh that ke$ha. if her name doesn't ooze money and fame, i don't know what does (besides a sex tape).

i'm not going to sit here on my couch in my apartment at 540pm on a saturday and deny that her songs aren't catchy - even if it was a tuesday afternoon at about 1215pm, i STILL wouldn't sit here and deny that. it's kind of like this: first, they're annoying. then, they're catchy. then, i'm singing along. then, i hate them to the point where if i hear it again, i will scream.

she's an inspiration for all non-singers out there. it's pretty easy to make up a ke$ha-esque song, and i think that's why she does it - to give all of us a chance to be just like her.

here (to the tune of her latest hit "we R who we R"):

i got my nose ring full in tact
got my knapsack packed with snacks
and by snacks i mean my jack
i drink rum-um-um DRINK RUM

tonight i'm gonna fart-art-art-art-art-art
just like my grandpa bart-art-art-art-art-art
do you think that i sound smart-art-art-art-art-art?
ALWAYS REPLACE YOUR CART

shrug.

playa, playa, playa, playaaaa

so what's the deal with my wine-tolerance level going way down when i'm out and about as opposed to when i'm sitting at home?

i don't quite get it. how is it that i can have a handful of glasses at home and not feel very much, yet after 2.5 out at a restaurant, i'm telling my refrigerator to "go to sleep!" that's right. after coming home from happy "hour" this week, i proceeded to make myself a makeshift dinner consisting of a bagel... cinnamon toast... and trix. then, when my refrigerator door didn't shut all the way on the first try, i exclaimed "GO TO SLEEP, FRIDGE!!!"

shortly thereafter, i said to myself, "no, YOU go to bed." and i did.

oh and can we have some bread as a conversation filler?

you know what i find absolutely hilarious? seinfeld.

but besides that, i just think it's so girly and so funny when two ladies decide to go out to a meal together because they have "so much to catch up on." i don't think having things to catch up on is funny - actually, i take that very seriously because there usually IS a lot of stuff to catch up. in girl world, monumental events that call for a lunch date can happen within 24 hours of seeing that person originally... trust me.

the funny part about the "catch-up-i-have-so-much-to-tell-you" lunch or dinner date is that WE TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING IN THE CAR BEFORE THE ACTUAL MEAL. it's HYSTERICAL. we're so eager and just overflowing with all of this fantastic information to tell our friend that our boobs cannot hold it together long enough to get into the car, get to the restaurant, sit down and THEN start spouting off. no. this business of catching up is just way too overwhelming and we spoil every part of the stories in the car ride on the way to our catch-up lunch. or dinner.

i do it. i know you do it, too. even if you aren't a lady, i know you know ladies do this. we're just too excited. and we know the entire time we're word vomiting in the car ride that we're making the actual meal itself that much less exciting. i mean i will literally be talking out loud to my friend and simultaneously be thinking, "fuck. i'm ruining the very reason we even called this lunch to be had in the first place. what am i gonna talk to her about at the table??? i'm telling her every single thing i planned to storyboard for her once we were sitting down, ready to eat. yet, i can't stop. i cannot make myself stop talking. i just need to get it all out now. HELP! HELP ME! HELP ME, MYSELF!"

am i right or am i right? maybe we should try to break up the stories in pieces. not tell them all at once in the fated car ride to the lunch or dinner. maybe, we should fancy ourselves really good story tellers and arrive at the climax of the story RIGHT when we pull up, then wait until we've sat down to continue.

yeah, right. not gonna happen. my stories are just too damn exciting to wait.

-emma

i made a funny

what color are a Jewish peacock's feathers?

turq-oye.


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. COPYRIGHT, EMMA, 2010.

then and now

isn't it just wild how in college $50 was equivalent to how $300 makes you feel nowadays? with $50, you felt on top of the world. you could buy breakfast lunch and dinner and still have money left over for a t-shirt at your favorite retail store (or at least that's how it felt).

already ate at the sorority house? too bad. breakfast lunch and dinner.
your friends are cooking dinner at their place for free? don't go. breakfast lunch and dinner.

ok, ok. sorry. i stole that from kenan thompson's "the rent is too damn high" rendition on SNL. i couldn't help myself. but, for serious, $50 in college was a fucking gold mine. you felt on top of the world with that kind of money to your name. i had a bad habit in college of going to the store and buying like $100 worth of groceries, coming home and putting them away, then heading right back out to grab dinner at a restaurant. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT. here i just spent pretty much my entire monthly allowance on food, yet i felt so rich with whatever money i had left that i had no problem going right back out to spend it all up. that was the life. now, it's like "what are you having for dinner, sweetheart?" asks my adorable, concerned mama. "umm... ahem. pasta..... maybe some blue corn chips.... i don't know. whatever's in my pantry." so sad, but that's how it is, ya know?

$50 use to make you feel like you were one step closer to buying a macbook. now, you know you're in deep, deep shit if that's all the money you have to claim until payday. ya know, fuck rachel ray's "$40 a day." it's not on the air anymore, but when it was, i LOVED that show. oh my. watching her so savvily spend her allotted $40 to dine out all day - mother help me. i thought it was so great and she made the smartest choices. why? because then, i was like "shit! i could do that with my $50 and have $10 left! BEERS!" now, i'm like "anyone who has $40 to savvily spend on 3 separate meals in ONE day is a filthy rich asshole who should be donating to charities."

yikes. i'm gonna go cook me up some stale chips and dry pasta dinner. no, i'm kidding. it's not THAT bad. but you get the point.

-emma

a re-cap of my most hated holiday

lazy sunday, wake up in the later afternoon
broil a couple bagels because i am a Jew

and because i don't have my trusty toaster oven yet. i know i should've known a few weeks ago that there's a way to toast a bagel in the actual oven, but i've been busy, okay?!

i hate adult halloween. i really do. i've tried since around college to accept it and just go with it and dress up and party... it never works. to me, halloween is strictly a child's holiday. it's about little kids getting to dress up as witches and dora and go knock on doors for candy. that's why it's so amazing. yes, okay, the pumpkin smelling candles and the excuse to buy a massive bag of "halloween" candy to keep in your pantry also have their ups, but in general, i just don't and will never accept halloween as a holiday for adults. i'll never be comfortable participating in it and, for that, i hope i'm not hated or looked down upon.

with that said, Old Navy gave you an extra 20% off this week if you screamed in the store. no, i'm not kidding. i have some sort of mad stage fright when it comes to screaming. but i did it. and thank the lord i was in my dressing room with the door shut when it happened.

until next year when i don't celebrate halloween...

i just saw this on YELP!

under a review for a bakery. it speaks for itself:

"I only have 2 words for you....CHEESE POCKETS!"

fess up

tell me, babe. i gotta know. (um, that's robyn if you didn't recognize the lyrics already. it's from her hit single "always be around").

who clicked the "intriguing" box on my last post? i have to know. it intrigues me that the clicker was intrigued. i'm betting it was most likely my sister, but ya never know.

i hate that state farm commercial with the brunette dude who's sporting a cartoon-esque quaf and that short "state farm agent" who keeps talking over him. STICK TO THE SCRIPT.

-emma

i need a remembrall

if you know what a "remembrall" is that means you're obviously really cool and love harry potter. if you didn't know what it was until i just referenced harry potter, that's okay, too. it's neither here nor there, but in all honesty.... i really do need one.

i don't know if it's my job, my life, or just my brain in general, but i am forgetting everything. i've never had a wonderful memory to begin with (except when it comes to memorizing scripts and shows and movies), but this is different. i never realized how scattered i am. one might say i'm in a constant state of being in a tizzy. even when i think i have all my shit together, i realize - oh. i left my apartment without grabbing what i originally even drove home for. or like right now - i'm here, sitting at my built-in desk, all set-up to workworkwork... and i just realized i left my notebook and papers in the my car outside. it's always something. i can never have all my ducks in a perfect row; one is either diagonal, quacking it's head off and won't shut up, or trying to fly away but can't because it's too newborn (wtf?)

it's very aggravating. and it's not like i don't try. i pride myself on being anal and incredibly OCD when it comes to my belongings and being organized. i have a daily agenda, my phone and sticky notes all over my computer - but i still seem to always forget SOMETHING, no matter how big or small.

i'm not asking for help, only venting on here. perhaps i need to look around more and take those extra 2 minutes to stand there and think if i'm forgetting something - but then, it takes all the fun out of hitting myself in the head and thinking I KNEW I FORGOT SOMETHING!


okay, down to my car i go to retrieve my things. at least it's exercise....???

-emma

p.s. sorry this post wasn't ROFL funny. I'M WORKING HERE.

this reminds me...

as i sit here watching the harry potter marathon on the disney channel (no, you're right. i AM 23 in case you were questioning it, but longtime loves don't just go away with age), i remember the time when the sorcerer's stone had just been released on DVD. i distinctly recall one afternoon viewing of it in particular. sitting in my parent's house, upstairs, all by my lonesome during a summer's afternoon. i was so touched on this one particular day that i cried, NAY - BAWLED, during the end credits. i just kept thinking of how amazing it would be to go to hogwarts or just to be an extra in one of the movies in general and couldn't contain myself.

so there ya have it, folks. with every blog post, i more than likely leave readers thinking odd, mean things about me, but that's okay. you have to keep the youth alive somehow and your imagination in tact. i'm staying young by way of still being completely obsessed with harry potter rather than working out or playing sudoku.

"i'm not going home..... not really."

-emma

life's small truths

i start picking my nose or making some sort of horrific facial expression when i notice a male in the car next to me staring at me. HOW'S THAT? THAT SEXY ENOUGH FOR YA? YAAA I LOOOVE PICKING MY NOSE. drive on, mahfukka.

i just wanted to get some styrofoam balls

i have a theory about craft stores.

michael's, hobby lobby, jo-ann's fabrics... any and all of them.

the employees who work at these facilities are the most relaxed, laid back, zero sense of urgency people in the entire world. even more so than a stoner or someone in a coma.

why are the check out lines always SO long? and SO slow? why does it take the cashier 35 minutes to scan a few barcodes on fake flower stems and a clear vase? i mean WHAT??? it never changes. it never speeds up. the "beeps" of the barcode reader are literally delayed by 5 minutes each time, THAT'S how slow they scan things and get them in the fucking bag and into your hand. i've started standing there and muttering to myself: "are you kidding me? oh my... are you KIDDING. scan it. scan it. good. put it in the bag. that's right."

OH OH and as if checking out at a craft store isn't excruciating enough already, i was behind two bitches the other day who went to pay for their sparkle balls and ceramic pots and started pulling cash out... dollar bill by dollar bill... then coin by coin. digging dip into their pockets to find as many coins and loose dollar bills as they could and setting them on the counter. i wanted to throw fabric at them.

stick that in your DIY made christmas stocking.

crossing way over the line

i have learned there is a very fine line between persistence and complete anal retentive OCDness. today, i heard a story of a girl who crossed far far over that line and may never come back to play for the persistence(normal) team.

this girl had been waiting for a certain cable company to install her cable for a while (let's say the cable company's name rhymes with Jew-curse). this particular company was incredibly delayed with installation dates due to their popularity (it's like they're the regina george of the TV/Internet world and the other companies are gretchen and karen). i guess the girl had been calling everyday just to see if an earlier installation date had become available, when low and behold, an earlier date became available! she jumped on it without thinking it through (because she's impatient as a post-coffee poo)(that rhymed) and realized a little too late that wednesday mornings are the big meeting mornings and she wouldn't be available until after 9:30am the problem? the cable guy was to arrive anywhere between 9-11am.

this is where the bitch gets crazy. i guess she didn't have anyone who would be able to meet the cable guy at her apartment in the event he arrived before she was out of her morning meeting, so she had to ask the office in her apartment complex to leave a key for the guy to get into her place and start installing if she wasn't done the meeting yet.

first, she called the front office. the girl told her to just send an email stating she was allowing key release for the cable guy. so, she sent an email. then, she called the cable company and had them make not one note, but 2 notes on her installation papers for the guy. the morning of, the girl not only sent a SECOND email to the front desk, but also wrote them a handwritten note and taped it to the front door of their office just in case they didn't get either email.

this is the cherry. this crazy bitch proceeded to change her voicemail message to:

"hi. this is ___________. if this is the installation technician with at&t u-verse, i have left permission at the front desk for you to gain entrance to my apartment. i am in a morning meeting until 9:30a.m. but am literally 9 minutes down the road so i will be there as soon as possible. thank you so much."

CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SHIT!!!!!?????!!! SHE'S OUT OF CONTROL.


and that girl....


is me.

i have just let you in, people. call me crazy, call me anal, call me pretty. regardless, if you had ANY IDEA how backed up u-verse's installation dates are, you would understand why i was so whacko. if i had missed the installation date, i would've had to wait until mid-november! NOT COOL.

i may have just completely screwed myself over in the way of you people never reading my blog again and writing me off as insane. if i have, i'm sorry. if i haven't, YOU LIKE ME. YOU REALLY LIKE ME.

tips for a flat belly

lie down on your back with your legs straight in front of you, arms extended above your head and have your friend stand over you, dropping gummy bears into your mouth.

dentists dentists are no fun, especially when it's 8 o'clock in the morning

however, here are two funnies i made while gracing the dental office with my 8am presence:

upon being elevated back up after my teeth cleaning was done, the dental hygienist made a joke about how i could wake up now because i had more or less been sleeping (they give me those shades to wear under the light and they don't expect me to pass out?), to which i replied "ugh oh my gosh. i was having a dream about being at the dentist and it was so awful." BUH DUM CHA!

i then suggested to a different dental hygienist that i could sell my old retainers on craigslist or ebay, just to cause a reaction and see what people would do.

mmm, early morning dental visits. here's a tip, kids: WEAR YOUR RETAINERS. otherwise, you'll be gagging in the dentist chair as you get new impressions done like this broad.

see ya.

they should have salsa set out on the table

you know what REALLY gets me heated? spicy salsa. but, even more than that, it's when mexican restaurants or eateries don't give you free chips and salsa. what is that? what are these mexican places of dining that actually make you PAY for chips and salsa? i don't want my chips and salsa to ever be an option at a mexican restaurant, no. regardless of how many times i've said to myself (or out loud to my friends) "i'm not eating ANY chips tonight. i get too full and it's so fattening." cut to me finishing an entire basket by myself, stating i'm fine and still exceptionally hungry for dinner, and finally walking out of the restaurant with a doggy bag because i could only eat two bites of my actual meal ("UGH, i'm really not going to eat chips next time. i ALWAYS do this.")

it's just like - do you think your chips and salsa are THAT superior that i need to pay for them instead of getting them for free at any other place in town? granted, i will travel miles for great chips and salsa. but only if they're free. it's the same when restaurants don't have free bread. IT'S BREAD. this isn't the 17th century when you need to ration out yeast products. we're in a time and age now where we can buy cheez-its out of a vending machine for some cents, so i highly doubt it's gonna set your business back that far by giving out free chips or bread to your customers.

oh wait wait. or is this a shot at hoping your customers end up spending more money on their entrees since they didn't get to fill up on chips and salsa? ohhhhhhhhhh... okay. that could be it. but, if it is, know that i still hate you and resent the fact that i had to order 1 extra taco since you wouldn't allow me to binge eat before my food came out.

sidenote: i make people stop talking during seinfeld as though it's a new episode i've never seen before and there's no room to miss a line.

-emma

oh I'M sorry...

hmmm, that's strange. it appears as though someone marked the "effed up" box on my best smell in the world post.

why so, stranger? you think i'm weird for that? have you never smelled a worn in white t-shirt on a clean male before? well, ya know WHAT? it's amazing, and furthermore, this is MY blog and i can admit whatever i want on here. yes, i understand that by even putting the "effed up" box as an option, i'm allowing the chance of people actually checking it when they do indeed think something i've written is "effed up," but EFF OFF.

here are some other effed up things to chew on:
chipotle is basically like dessert to me
i part my hair way too extremely to the right
i just moved and i constantly walk around my new place giggling to myself
i put shirts on head first, arms second

what now?