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.