pants contention

Today is one of those days where I woke up and just didn't want to wear pants.

I don't mean I didn't want to wear anything at all. I just didn't (don't) feel like shimmying into and wearing pants.



What?



Don't you ever have those days where you don't want to wear pants? Or normal clothes of any kind? And it might be because you FAILed at weight watchers this week, or at least you just feel like you did?

Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean.

And I've been thinking about this idea where I'm going to turn the back room of our house into an office library and the best part of it will be: PANTS OPTIONAL. And we can have big piles of blankets to snuggle under and use to march around the house instead of actually wearing pants.

I know I could be wearing a skirt, but I wore a skirt three times this week and I don't want to wear a skirt because it's cold, which means I'd have to wear tights, which are tighter than pants, and my whole point is: I don't want to wear pants today.

There are things things called Baby Legs that I wish they'd make for people my size. Overgrown legwarmers that go all the way up your thigh? Don't mind if I do!
Seriously though. Don't mind if I do.

happy wednesday

You know, sometimes you just have a bad day. And it isn't rotten, and it isn't horrible, and the sun is actually shining through the clouds at the end of the day, but it was still a bad day.

And you probably haven't eaten enough but have no appetite to eat which is at least nice for the scale because you've overeaten all week, and you don't feel like watching TV all night even though that's what you'll end up doing, and you didn't get to kiss your husband enough because timing was just bad during the bad day, even though he was the nicest and brought you a big 44 oz-er. And you have to go to the bathroom, and the voicemail light is blinking, and you still have an hour left before you can go home, and you should probably march across campus to deliver that memo, and you live in an apartment where all you want is the puppy you're not allowed to have, and the only thing you can think about is the back room that's full of stuff and you can't find motivation to put it away--

It's all a little easier when you just focus on happy.

i want to tell you about my sister and that she was born

This is a post to celebrate the existence of my only little sister, Elizabeth Helen. Today is her birthday, and she is 21, which means she's an actual adult, which means no one can give her crap about anything or being too young. Welcome to the club, little one.

I only call her "little one" because she's just a little bitty thing.

She didn't really want to be born when she was born. I bet our mom has some cool stories about how she was in labor for 26 hours. I think that's because Bizzy probably really wanted all the numbers to match, since she was born on October 26. She's organized that way and maybe inherited a touch of OCD. She started early.

I don't know if I really wanted her to be born either. I mean, I got the cool I'm the Big Sister shirts and whatever, and I was super pumped to give her that rattle as a YOU'RE BORN! present, but when she actually came home and was there and barfed all the time, I wasn't so sure...
Aunt Debbie tried to congratulate/console me with balloons. I wasn't impressed.But after a few days, I warmed up to her.

Bwahahaha.... (note: that couch is now sitting in my very own little apartment)

Bizzy was named after our grandma Elizabeth, who always went by Betty. Liz still rocks San Rio sunglasses, if you can believe it.

Sometimes I call Sister "Betty" because it's retro, and also because of our grandma, and also because of "Betty-honey Haynes" from White Christmas. Our mom wanted Lizzy's name to be Elizabeth and not be called by a nickname, but that didn't last long since she was the one who started calling her Biz. Grandma Betty never liked the name Lizzy because of some mean great-aunt or other, so it was ironic when Biz inevitably became Liz. But listen-- I've never met a Liz I didn't like, so I don't mind the nickname.

Liz has always been a big Beatles fan. This year she actually made it to Liverpool, which I think is just about the coolest thing. Check out her most epic Halloween costume from 1997:Third from the left-- John Lennon would be proud of that casted little arm. All in the name of ROCK.

A few years later Lizzy would smile in such a way that jutted her chin back into her neck a little bit and made her eyes drowsy. It's become a bit of a running joke. See how charming?

Luckily she grew up and is now the prettiest girl ever. She married a boy named Spencer, but then she couldn't decide if she wanted to keep her last name or take his, and because Mom and Dad have always told us that we (especially me) suffer from "more more more" syndrome, why have just one name when you can have two?
Isn't it weird that, aside from the snow caked in our hair and the pained expressions, we basically don't even look alike?

Bizzy is very talented and is basically good at everything she tries. She stars in local musicals--And lately she's been all about her new photog business. Check out her blog and hire her. She's really good and not obnoxiously artsy.She's also a serious rebel.

We have hilarious times together!Everything about this photo is staged.

It's good to be Biz.'eeyyyyyyyyyyyy.

Happy birthday, little Lizzy!

regarding the weather

Dear Universe,

I'm writing to tell you about how I don't mind the sudden change in temperature, and I don't even mind the prospect/appearance of snow on this, October 25.

I don't want you to think I'm saying this just to get something in return. I'm not even asking for any favors and I don't have any reason to suck up. I'm not using The Secret. I just wanted to tell you about how I like the chill and I don't even mind the snow.

In fact, I wanted to tell you it because it seems like so many people get mad about the weather. When it's 102 degrees, it's too hot. When it's 50 degrees, it's too cold. When there aren't any clouds, it's too sunny. When there are too many clouds, it's too gray. We live in a desert, where weather patterns are extreme. I get it! I'm not complaining.

And about the snow that some people got last night and this morning-- don't worry. I like it. If this were Back East, everyone would just kind of shrug about it. I can't tell you how many Halloweens I spent with an umbrella over my head to protect my witch wig from the snow. It's no biggie, Universe. I like any excuse to wear twelve layers and scarves and gloves and hats.

But okay, if you're feeling generous, and you appreciate how I appreciate your unpredictable weather habits, I'm getting a haircut this week and it would be really awesome if it turned out awesome. But I only say that because I'm going to have pictures taken in the Autumn Weather and I'd really like my hair to compliment the autumness of the season, is all.

Thanks the most.

Stay unpredictable,

Emily

disclaimer: i liked it first

In less than a week, Glee will play this season's Halloween episode based around Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Before Glee goes and makes it all popular and mainstream, I just feel like I need everyone to know--

I liked Rocky before Glee made it popular.

I know I'm not alone in this. And honestly, I'll be the first to admit that I haven't even attending a big showing or shouted "SAY IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT" at Tim Curry with an audience full of dressed-up cult followers.

But since we all know what Glee did for Journey, who existed a long time before Glee, I'm expecting hoards of people (namely over-excited high school theatre kids) to run around singing Rocky like they know anything about it, which is why I just need to reiterate--

I liked Rocky before Glee made it popular.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to work on my Magenta costume now in preparation for our viewing party.

emily's daily affirmation

I'm sure most of you have seen this video at least 70 times. I have, and friend-Kelly only showed it to me on Saturday. It's pretty catchy.


My favorite part is "I love my... whole... HOUSE! CLAP."

It's inspired me to affirm my today.

My whole life is great.
I can do anything good!
I like my Ames.
I like anything with food.
I like my dad.

I like my friends.
I like my shows.

I like my Elizabeths.
I like my moms.
I like my Diet Cokes.

I like my yarns.

I like my haircuts I'm getting next week.

I like my boots.

I like my skinny.

I like my Judy.
I like my whole life!
My life is great.

I can do anything good!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
I can do anything good!

BETTER THAN ANYONE.

an open letter to don mckellar

Dear Mr. McKellar,

Thank you for your existence. You are a funny, funny man. Also, Canadian.

Thanks also for your contributions to television and film and theatre, particularly your role as Darren Nichols in the brilliant Slings & Arrows; that film you wrote that I had to watch twice in TMA 114 which was actually quite beautiful, Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould; and any/all participation in the conception and creation of The Drowsy Chaperone.

Word on the street is you're directing a film version of The Drowsy Chaperone, perhaps starring Geoffry Rush? Is this true? If this is true, please take into consideration my suggestion for your title character:

Love,

Emily

thoughts

I've had a lot of important things on my mind lately.

Like how I possess the ability to "lose" within a few days what I spend the rest of the week "gaining," which probably explains the plateau I've maintained for the last three months. Sometimes I think about how losing these last 20 lbs would be so simple if I'd just stick to plan! And that's when I dive head first into the seven layer dip.

I've also been thinking about this notion of "dry shampoo," which is why I bought some the other day and tested it this morning. So far, not dreadfully impressed. I'm kind of disappointed that this product won't help me transcend another level of laziness.

And then there's that show Sister Wives which tempted me with two new episodes last night, only to inform me that the season finale is next week. After six episodes? I mean, I know that's how long season one of The Office was, but I didn't get into The Office till season two so it didn't sting like Sister Wives is stinging. It fascinates me. And makes me want to stalk polygs all over Lehi and American Fork.

Also, it's freezing cold in my office and I need some kind of serious space heater STAT or my fingers may fall off from frostbite.

And moreover, rather than planning for months in advance what I will be for Halloween, we kind of realized a few days ago that it's quickly approaching and WHAT WILL WE BE?! We've got at least the UVU theatre club party to go to (and Ames won the costume contest last year, keep in mind, so we've got to live up to last year's standard [I didn't qualify to win with him in spite of our coordinating costumes because I was/am not a student sniff sniff I don't care it's fine whatever]), and we seriously need to impress the 7-year olds in our Sunday School class at the church party.

So WHAT WILL WE BE? Right now we're thinking...

Choice A:(this is how I hug Ames all the time. I don't know if his face is filled with dismay because my eyes are closed blissfully as I spin him around)

OR

Choice B:

Thoughts?

happy wednesday

With all the whirlwind blustering around this place, with all LE DRAMA! and work work work, I almost forgot that it's

~*~*~*happy wednesday*~*~*~

I am happy that Ames's show opens tonight and he looks like Pince Eric:And rollerskates while blind-folded.I'm happy about the steady stream of friends I've had through my office today. It's so nice to like others and be liked.

I'm happy about this scarf thing I'm going to make for me and Julie and maybe other people, if they're lucky.
I'm happy about the crocheted headband and legitimate "fall clothes" I'm wearing, and about the rain.

I'm happy about the Zupas I had for lunch, in spite of the complete destruction I've had with Weight Watchers this week. I'm happy about new-friend-Lisa's assertion that a nutritional Bermuda Triangle is A-OK.

I'm happy about two paychecks coming in next payday instead of one.

I'm happy about the things on sale at Urban Outfitters, even though I can't have them. I'm also happy about the perfume friend-Emily got at Urban Outfitters a few weeks ago and how very lush it is, even though I don't/can't have it.

I'm happy that my neck/throat tension is easing up a little.

I'm happy about auditioning for Tale of Two Cities in a few months. I'm happy that I don't care that I'm already posting about an audition that isn't for a few more months.

I'm happy that I'm addicted to crocheting. I'm happy that sometimes (almost always) clothes don't get folded or dishes don't get washed or whatever because I'd rather just crochet for a few more minutes. I'm happy that I'm kind of pretty good at it, or at least getting there.

Fall! Fall! Fall!

I'm happy about the autumn decorations I put up in my living room, and about all the candles, and about the fact that I'm kind of okay at decorating so maybe I should do it more.

I'm happy about tomorrow being Thursday for all the television showwwwwwwwwws.

And maybe while I'm not exactly happy about it, I'm at least grateful for continued opportunity and experience to grow up just a little more and learn to be selflessly, genuinely happy for other people.

collecting is not the same as hoarding

As mentioned previously, I've been watching a lot of that show Hoarders on A&E thanks to some good friends who are as fascinated/disgusted by other people as I am. I've since introduced it to a few select friends, and I delighted in their reactions as we gathered in my apartment to watch as a house was futilely disposed of three feet of cat poo, cat skeletons, 10 YEARS worth of HUMAN POO in garbage bags, and piles of larvae-encrusted sundry. They were as horrified as I had been the first time I watched it. Rightfully so.

Since beginning a viewership with Hoarders, I've become self-conscious (paranoid) about my delight in shopping and having pretty things and all the stuff in the back room that needs to be organized and put away but we just haven't done it yet.

Sounds like classic hoarder justification, right?

But we haven't! We just combined two half-households with our shared new household and all our storage stuff just needs going through. I promise. I have Plans for that back room.

In the meantime, I'm just so sorely tempted to go through the apartment and throw half of what we own just right in the trash. Or, I mean, take some of it to good will. Duh. We have lots of nice things. I'm just afraid we have too much of it, is all.

Also now that I've settled the fitful appearance, I'm getting super itchy about my house things. After I throw out half of what we've got, I will then replace it (slowly, not hoarderly) with things I l-u-r-v-e (not larvae).

For example,

urban outfitters

urban outfitters

notley upholstery

And luckily, we're not allowed to have pets in our apartment, so we don't run the risk of burying it under three feet of animal feces. Though wouldn't that chair look so much cuter with a puppy named Mops sitting on it?

We might also benefit from the funds to have such things, so I guess this means I'll be making a sacrifice to the thrifting gods and pray to find some gems over the next few weeks/months.