girls meeting girls

i noticed this a while ago and have been meaning to write about it since. i'm just soooooooo busy (obviously).

when girls meet girls, it's just so awkward. with guys, it's simple: hey, man ::hand shake::, good to meet you. sportssportsportsportsportsgirls?sportswillyoubemybestmanbecausewejustbecamelifelongfriends?sportssports.

with ladies, it's like do we shake hands like guys do? is that too unfeminine? do we do the awkward half wave even though we're standing within inches of the other? you know, the throw-your-hand-up-open-palm-half-ass-"heyyy" wave? do we just smile extra big? and it's never really like you can just jump into conversation unless it's "cute dress! where's it from?" or "ugh it's so hot out here, don't you think?" it just takes so much more effort for girls to automatically get along with girls. 9 times out of 10 you walk away thinking, "bitch."

it's just the all the glorious differences between the opposite sexes.

a haiku in honor of this post:
girls are just tougher
we should try to act like men
ha ha eff that s

can i have the diet with a side of fat?

a co-worker told us the other day that someone she knew was once on a slim fast diet and said the shakes were incredibly delicious. i know you're probably asking yourself, "HOW??? HOW??" i'll tell you how. it's because the lady would blend the shake with 2 scoops of ice cream. i shit you not.

all men think alike and by alike, i mean dirtyily.

i don't know if dirtyily is a word. if it isn't (which i have a feeling it's nowhere close to being in the english dictionary), pretend it is for my sake.

just a quick post on how predictable men's thoughts can be.

in explaining to 2 of my team members how they should view lady gaga's "telephone" video (but NOT at the office.. at HOME... in PRIVACY), both men immediately asked, in almost perfect unison: "oh my god. are beyonce and lady gaga making out? are they on each other?" to satisfy their musical tastebuds, i said, "yes. and then, britney spears comes out of nowhere! AND THEN, oh my god. i can't even... no. just watch it."

then i posted up against a wall in the office with one leg up, biting an apple and wearing my leather jacket.

with knowledge like that, who needs knowledge

at dinner sunday night with my parents, i wanted a glass of wine. red wine. so, i browsed the wine list and happened upon a type called "Claret." i used to own my own vineyard, but that doesn't mean i know all wines like the back of my hand (or my throat).

so, i inquired with the waiter what TYPE of wine a claret is... i.e. perhaps it's more like this kind or it's a mix of these 2. would you like to know how he responded when i asked him the question?

"um, it's a type of wine."

wait... WHAT??? this wine that i pointed out on the menu and asked what KIND OF WINE IT IS is a TYPE OF WINE????? HOW DID YOU GET SO SMART?

obviously, my dad was thinking that same thing, but took it a step further by making him feel like a complete douchebag.

"wait... really?! it's a type of wine?? you've got MAD SKILLS, dude. wow. well, i'm sold."

i didn't go with the claret and i still have no effing idea what the eff it is. so thanks, waiter man. thanks for NOTHING.

is this flight on candid camera?

i had the most bizarre flight today, and i feel the need to write it down in case i ever forget the details of it.

my first inkling that this flight would be out-of-whack was when i saw an incredibly sad looking guy at the gate. i mean, this dude looked S-A-D. i guess it could've been a combo of sad and tired, but if he was tired, he was only tired from being so sad. he had messy, long hair, a beard and glasses on. and he was skinny. why that matters, i don't know.

so on the actual flight, i sat behind a group of four 20-something hispanic boys and girls who were rowdy as all get out. they sang loudly, played music on their phone out loud for the whole plane to enjoy, and when the drink cart came around, one of the guys ordered 4 mini bottles of skky vodka and passed them out to the group to down. on one hand i was like, "shit. they're fun. i wanna join?" but on the other, more logical and normal hand, i was like "SHUT THE FUCK UP."

then, directly across from the row i was sitting, there was a violently ill girl sitting with her dad. and not sick-from-the-flight ill, no. it was pale, i-have-the-swine-flu sick. she sat with her head down the whole time before take-off murmuring, "let's goooooo... pleaseeeeeee..." and then proceeded to vomit 3 times during the duration of our flight. into barf bags. ugh, SOO typical. at least barf into something creative, sick girl! (no, i'm kidding. i felt bad for her but also sick from looking at her).

i was wedged in between 2 men: one was a cool, middle-aged, bald guy with a wife and a keen interest in pop culture and music. we chatted, and i told him that although kick-ass is the weirdest movie i've ever seen, i'd recommend it. on my other side was a nerdy guy with a kindle. we also chatted and i learned that he is a "defense attorney." "and what does that mean?" i asked him. "basically, i help develop satellites to spy on the world and you?" he wasn't kidding. when the bald guy asked him what the name of the company he was, he couldn't say. legit.

that's the main gist of things. oh, except when the flight landed, that uber sad guy was crying. i'm serious. he sat directly in front of me next to the rowdy kids (i'm sure that really helped his mood), and when we were all standing up to go, he was definitely crying. poor guy. i really wish i could've known what was wrong? hope you're okay, dude... wherever you are...

i couldn't find my sister for a bit once i was in the city, but no worries... i did eventually. and she dropped my camera as a welcoming present. thanks, sis!

safe travels to all and to all a good flight.

follow-up

don't get me wrong, though. i seriously do love salads (GEDDIE). there are many times when i say to myself, "there would be nothing better than a massivley healthy and delicious salad right now." it's just that, sometimes, they don't hit the right spot. the g-spot. the greens spot. the spot where you're like "oh yeah, i am full and that was great." sometimes... they just leave you begging for some bread.

OKAY?!

here's the thing about salads

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? i just used my blog name IN one of my blog entry titles? i'm so tacky.

but, seriously. here's the thing when it comes to salads. they're great. they really are. but, only when they're piled with shit.

for example, yesterday, i made myself a salad at the local fresh food mart in town and thought i did a pretty good job of creating something delicious for lunch. it was, but afterwards, i felt even hungrier and emptier than i felt going into it. that's the problem - they're delicious, but only if you pile them high with delicious, unhealthy crap. like, mexican salads are the bomb because they come with chicken, tortilla strips, avocado, salsa, beans, corn, tortilla chips, flour tortillas, guacamole, ice cream, a pinch of cake, cous cous, and a sombrero.

or a ceasar salad is great, too. dressing, croutons, chicken, cheese, pizza, a pancake, a splash of taco shell, and a side of mexican salad with steak and mashed potatoes.

like i said, salads are great as long as it's not JUST salad on the salad, ya dig?

good eatings!

HOT NEW MOVIE ALERT!!!

we try to have girl's night every week so we have a guarantee of sitting around and staring at each other at least one night during our work weeks. it doesn't always work out because we're so busy and popular and really climbing up that professional ladder at an incredibly fast pace (wink), but when they do happen, BOY are they wild.

like last night. my roommate and i met our third party friend at her place to start the evening. we got dinner, took 30 minutes to open a bottle of wine, and sat around screaming while our friend's live-in boyfriend silently moved about their apartment in the background. we played the destructive game of "peggle," and i read them how they're SUPPOSED to be according to their zodiac signs. it was wild. there was some blood and a few of us will probably have scars, but boy, was it fun.

the best part of the night, however, were the numerous commercials we were so blessed to see regarding hilary duff's new made-for-TV entitled "beauty and the briefcase." OH. MY. BUH-GAH. i almost wanted to give her an oscar right then and there (but i was let go from the academy years ago due to a small blunder involving me and an actress i am not allowed to name for legal reasons). not only does she pull off the wannabe carrie bradshaw attitude and style impeccably, but the story line shakes me to my core. it's as though they read my mind without even knowing me... or my mind!

young girl, goes to NYC, lands an editing gig at cosmo magazine and her first assignment?! GOING UNDERCOVER AS HERSELF AND DATING AS MANY BUSINESS MEN AS SHE CAN IN ORDER TO WRITE HER FIRST ARTICLE ENTITLED, "dating hot men in suits." the level of jealousy in the room was palpable as we were watching these promos. lizzie mcguire no more! say hellooooo to... an older lizzie mcguire? with possibly even worse line delivery?

the bottom line is this: we decided to record it and watch it next girl's night.


shrug.


xo,
emma

welp, i could be getting fired

i just googled the word "brazeer" to see how it should be spelled and google gave me a top-rated porn site.

fantastic. of course, i didn't click on it, but shit. that stuff is forever locked into these systems. at least there's a chance i'll be going down in style in the name of style?

support thy bosom, always.

i think i'll go for a walk oustide now...

oh wait. no i won't. because i'm at work. stuck inside. with not even a window to look out of.

that's cool...............................

funny happenings

my good friend marie visited me this past weekend. we got to experience a lot of things together and made some great memories. some sad, some terrifying, but mostly... just happy.

the two key points of the weeknd were as follows:

1) sunday morning, after one of the drunkest and sweatiest nights of our individual lives (those two descriptions put together sound suspicious, but i promise both adjectives occured on a dance floor), the city of dallas decided to implode the old texas stadium (you know... the one they replaced with the spaceship?). i had forgotten about this event and awoke at around 7am to the sound of (what i thought were) bombs. at first i tried to write it off as being in my head, but as the bombs continued, i finally asked marie, "do you hear that???" to which she replied, "yes." and i asked, "are we under attack?" to which she said, "yeah, dallas, texas is under attack right now." then it clicked it was the implosion. but marie made a funny point about my noise machine (i can't sleep without it on). she wondered, "what if your machine had a 'bomb' setting on it? what if you could turn it to the "baghdad" setting?" we laughed and held hands.

2) in the car ride home from said "drunkest and sweatiest night ever," marie exclaimed that she was going to "commit community suicide" the next day. civilians in the car were horrified and confused, and we still have no idea what she was talking about. honestly, it scares me.


here's to justin bieber.

long story long

i hate when i get to my desk on a monday morning and have 8 new voicemails from friday between 531pm to 556pm. but what's worse is when one of the voicemails claims that it's going to make a long story short and it goes on for 5 minutes.

that's a long story, sir. and this gal has a case of extreme mondayz sprinkled with a touch of is-it-friday-yets with a side of will-i-ever-not-feel-tired-agains?

emma out.

how cool were you in high school, on a scale of 1 to 10?

i'm gonna go ahead and say a... i don't know. because by the end of it, i really just didn't care. all i wanted to do was go to college. AND I DID.

but that's not what i am going to write about today. i'm going to share with you what my friend and i did on the one day we ever skipped school during our senior year of high school.

first off, i had to get permission from my mom. we had heard it was national "senior skip day," but i had to clear it with ellen before i took the plunge and acted out and got all nutty on that friday off from school. after she gave me permission, kate and i ran back to my car and went APE SHIT. we drove to my house, my grandpa came over, we went to breakfast at an old person's pancake joint with him and my mom, we went to a HUGE outlet store with all sorts of fucked up shit (e.g. purses and jewelry... WHAT!?). then we drove home, my mom and grandpa DROPPED US OFF (so we had the house ALL to ourselves!), we set up my camera and made 15 different videos of us dancing to "Culo," THEN... are you ready for the topper? it's so intense... we went and saw THE INCREDIBLES.

i mean, by the end of the night, we were so tired out. it was just a really wild day. i've never acted out so badly in all my life. i think kate and i felt pretty bad about it the next day, too. i woke up with that guilty, dirty feeling like "WHAT did i do?" it was hard to show our faces at school that monday because everyone knew all the shit we did on friday and we felt like bad people.

but we got over it.

ugh. high school. those weren't the days, and if they were to YOU, i feel really awful for you.

funny opportunities missed

i may make this title a reoccuring one.

"International Dyslexia Association"

come, ON! i know it's a serious sort of learning curve, but it makes me sick that they couldn't have named it

"Dyslexia International Association"

that's all.

not a joiner

i do not join things. i don't stick with them, i always find a way out, and i get bored very easily. this is a horrible character trait to have and to admit to... but, hey. at least i am being honest about my shortcomings (because, let's face it, i don't have many - HA HA!)

as i was explaining this to my good friend Marie the other day, she said something i could completely agree with. she saw and understood my point of view when it came to not being a joiner and not having the tenacity to stick with things and offered 1 type of something that she knows her and i could absolutely stick with and belong to easily...

"happy hour," she says.

mmm, Marie. you're always so wise what with your freckled face and silly demeanor.

cool isn't cool anymore

i started thinking the other day about "cool." it used to be such a great way to describe something or someone and the term wasn't used lightly. today, i feel as though it serves as more of a filler adjective than anything else, i.e. "really? that's cool" or "it's really cool that you're such a bitch."

it's just that, when my mom describes meeting my dad, she always talks about how "cool" she thought he was. tighter blue jeans, plain white tee, Jew afro = cool. as you can see, it didn't take that much back then to be cool. nowadays, if you were to see a man walking down the street in blue jeans and a white tee, you'd say "why do guys think they can wear just plain white tees out and that's okay?" (AHEM, TRAUB). it just sucks that what was "hip and cool" back in the 60s and 70s is now either way too retro or poser, and people go way overboard trying to dress or act how they consider cool. we're all victim to it because we're all trying to find our footing and figure out what makes us k-e-w-l, when back then, cool was as simple as smoking a J and being the first to buy whatever new record album had just hit the stores.

(to the tune of "My Favorite Things")
whatever happened to Jewfros and blue jeans?
now it's all iPads and iPhones and iTunes
expensive clothing that doesn't look expensive
i wish we could all be as cool as the 1970s.........