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?

best jerry-to-george tangent

"I don't even wanna talk about it anymore. What were you thinking? What was going on in your mind? Artistic integrity? Where did you come up with that? You're not artistic and you have no integrity. Ya know you really need some help but a regular psychiatrist couldn't even help you, you need to go to like vienna or something, you know what I mean? You need to get involved at the university level like where Freud studied and have all those people lookin at ya and checkin up on ya. That's the kinda help you need. Not the once a week for 80 bucks, no. You need a team. A team of psychiatrists workin round the clock, thinkin about you, having conferences like the way they did with the elephant man. That's what I'm talkin about cause that's the ONLY way you're gonna get better!"