It was like that time when we were moving old tables out of Red Lobster and it was pouring rain and we all got really wet, it was hilarious.
Remember that time during the Gilmore Girls party where we had quotes hanging everywhere and candy and stuff? Ugh, it was awesome.
This one time, at band camp... (just kidding.)
It's funny, just laugh.
Happy Turkey Everyone!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
PLEASE don't hate me for this...
Ever since my freshman year of college I have kept a journal. Lately I've kind of let it go (probably because of this here blog) but I have, like, ten or more journals full of my scrawl and pictures and cards and song lyrics and lists. There was once a time when I enjoyed rereading my old journals. Now, when I read them, I stop after a couple pages to scream
SOMEONE SHOOT ME!!!
My old journals are so full of me, me, me, boys, boys, boys, and lists of what I'm going to eat/what I'll do for a workout because I'm "fat".
The sad part is that the "fat" part is still hanging around.
And what's even sadder is I'm NOT fat.
I am barely 5'3", and according to those ridiculous weight charts hanging out online and in high school health rooms across the country I'm supposed to weigh something like 110lbs.
I weigh 121, as of 9am-ish this morning.
All the way through college I struggled against anorexia, often losing the battle, and it still likes to come around to bug me. And those darn charts don't help because they don't take muscle mass, bone density or genetics into account. I managed to get down to 111lbs once in college, and everyone was worried about me because I did it by starving myself and I looked really ill.
Over the years I've learned to keep this issue to myself, as most girls I know would punch me for saying "I'm fat" outloud.
But today was a hard day for me.
I try to stay away from scales, but after my surgery was over and I was able to walk again and most of the muscle I had gained over the summer disappeared I weighed myself one morning and was shocked to find I had lost a good five pounds and weighed 118. At the beginning of the summer, sometime around April, I was in the 126 range and distinctly remember stepping on the scale one morning and being shocked and rather thrilled about 121 flashing in front of my eyes. Now, because I had been 118 a mere couple of weeks ago, 121 is fat.
This is me on Sunday afternoon enjoying a bridal shower.
I'm pathetic. Wouldn't you agree?
When you think about it, weight is a really stupid thing to be obsessed over. I mean, back in Renaissance times being heavy was the fashion because it meant you were rich enough to be overfed. Why can't we still be cool like that? But instead the world has helped to create girls like me, who are obsessed over weight and looks and feel as though we won't be liked unless we look like THAT.
Whatever THAT is.
I could rant about the liberal media and its effect on today's women, or about how men are the reason for this weight obsession, but honestly it's been ranted to death.
One of these days, I will post something more lighthearted. I promise!
Oh, and I made the rehearsal bouquet for my friend's wedding. :) Fun times!
Aaaaannndd finally a pic of me and my future husband (btw, I HATE the word "hubby", drives me nuts I REFUSE to use it EVER).
Yeah, we were kinda made for each other. :D Have a grrreeeat day!
SOMEONE SHOOT ME!!!
My old journals are so full of me, me, me, boys, boys, boys, and lists of what I'm going to eat/what I'll do for a workout because I'm "fat".
The sad part is that the "fat" part is still hanging around.
And what's even sadder is I'm NOT fat.
I am barely 5'3", and according to those ridiculous weight charts hanging out online and in high school health rooms across the country I'm supposed to weigh something like 110lbs.
I weigh 121, as of 9am-ish this morning.
All the way through college I struggled against anorexia, often losing the battle, and it still likes to come around to bug me. And those darn charts don't help because they don't take muscle mass, bone density or genetics into account. I managed to get down to 111lbs once in college, and everyone was worried about me because I did it by starving myself and I looked really ill.
Over the years I've learned to keep this issue to myself, as most girls I know would punch me for saying "I'm fat" outloud.
But today was a hard day for me.
I try to stay away from scales, but after my surgery was over and I was able to walk again and most of the muscle I had gained over the summer disappeared I weighed myself one morning and was shocked to find I had lost a good five pounds and weighed 118. At the beginning of the summer, sometime around April, I was in the 126 range and distinctly remember stepping on the scale one morning and being shocked and rather thrilled about 121 flashing in front of my eyes. Now, because I had been 118 a mere couple of weeks ago, 121 is fat.
I'm pathetic. Wouldn't you agree?
When you think about it, weight is a really stupid thing to be obsessed over. I mean, back in Renaissance times being heavy was the fashion because it meant you were rich enough to be overfed. Why can't we still be cool like that? But instead the world has helped to create girls like me, who are obsessed over weight and looks and feel as though we won't be liked unless we look like THAT.
Whatever THAT is.
I could rant about the liberal media and its effect on today's women, or about how men are the reason for this weight obsession, but honestly it's been ranted to death.
One of these days, I will post something more lighthearted. I promise!
Oh, and I made the rehearsal bouquet for my friend's wedding. :) Fun times!
Yeah, we were kinda made for each other. :D Have a grrreeeat day!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Oh Great Deep Thought
Earlier this week my family doctor of 20+ years died of a heart attack, and today I attended his funeral. My dad, as a friend of Dr. Marsh and a pastor, was asked to officiate and during his eulogy he talked about my grandmother and her obsession with photos and home videos of her four granddaughters as small children and how, though she was usually behind the camera instead of infront of it, you can hear her voice.
Tangent: I just realized that I tend to write extremely long sentences.
Once I got home with two pints of the best ice cream ever in my hands (Tom's Ice Cream Bowl, a sleazy little diner in Zanesville with the best homemade ice cream you've ever had) I chose one of the many videos taken by my grandmother back in the late 80s and early 90s and proceeded to watch my three year old self during a 1989 summer trip to Connecticut.
There's one part of the video where we're in the car and I'm the only grandchild in the back of my grandparent's enormous blue suburban craning my neck to see out the windows because up ahead of us is my uncle leading us to the beach with his boat hitched to the back of his car. Nanny asked if I could see the boat, the lens of the camcorder zoomed in on that little girl in the backseat, and I cried out "I see the boat!!! I saw the boat again!!!!" jubilantly and with the biggest open-mouthed grin ever seen. Pure joy shining out of my three-year-old face at the prospect of riding in a boat, something I had never before done having grown up in the landlocked Ohio Valley.
Moments later the scene changes and you watch my two older sisters and my 28 year old parents climbing into the boat with my aunt and uncle. In the background you hear the sobs of a broken three year old heart because she was not joining her sisters in the boat ride she had dreamed of just minutes before.
I remembered back to this video as I sat here in my freezing room processing claims and planning a wedding in my head and via text with my fiance as NCIS dvds play in the background. As I pressed the a button to skip over the opening credits it dawned on me just how much my life has changed since I was that little three year old girl. Back then, nothing made me happier than tripping after my sisters, trying my darndest to keep up, and seeing a boat up close and personal just made my world. We didn't have computers or cell phones or DVD players or HD television or even real cable. Instead I sprawled on the floor with my grandfather and taught him to play Candyland while my baby sister strained to see over the edges of her playpen. My seven-year-old sister had learned to crochet. The three eldest of us and my two cousins were entertained for hours by a monkey that would convulse when it heard applause. We played tiddly-winks. Life was so much simpler back in 1989.
And now here I am, typing on a computer with my Blackberry dinging with emails and texts on the desk in front of me, my tv on my dresser across the room playing DVDs, my playstation on the floor waiting for me to finally finish my game. I am almost the age my parents were in that video from 1989. They already had four children, drove a beat up olive green oldsmobile, were dirt poor due to Dad's school loans... and soon I'll be in the same boat (minus the children).
I remember being a kid and dreaming of what I'd be like when I was older, and now that I'm older I don't FEEL older until I watch those videos and remember the pure simple joy of being a kid and being alive. I often say I wish I knew then what I know now, but that's a complete and total lie. If I knew then what I know now, the weight of the world would be on my shoulders and I wouldn't be a kid at all, and I would never have known joy. That three year old knew who she was. She knew what made her happy. She had parents who loved her, who had full lives ahead of them. She had three sisters she loved being around. She was free.
Sometimes I really think it's a shame we have to grow up. To deal with life. To watch your mom fight a losing battle with cancer. To move away and stress about bills and finding a home and creating a life away from the comfort of the place you grew up. To feel like your life isn't being lived as much as it is endured. We so often just try to make it from one day to the next without realizing what we're missing until reality smacks us in the face. I, for one, don't want to wake up one day and realize I'm eighty-nine years old and my life has meant nothing.
So I won't.
Tangent: I just realized that I tend to write extremely long sentences.
Once I got home with two pints of the best ice cream ever in my hands (Tom's Ice Cream Bowl, a sleazy little diner in Zanesville with the best homemade ice cream you've ever had) I chose one of the many videos taken by my grandmother back in the late 80s and early 90s and proceeded to watch my three year old self during a 1989 summer trip to Connecticut.
There's one part of the video where we're in the car and I'm the only grandchild in the back of my grandparent's enormous blue suburban craning my neck to see out the windows because up ahead of us is my uncle leading us to the beach with his boat hitched to the back of his car. Nanny asked if I could see the boat, the lens of the camcorder zoomed in on that little girl in the backseat, and I cried out "I see the boat!!! I saw the boat again!!!!" jubilantly and with the biggest open-mouthed grin ever seen. Pure joy shining out of my three-year-old face at the prospect of riding in a boat, something I had never before done having grown up in the landlocked Ohio Valley.
I remembered back to this video as I sat here in my freezing room processing claims and planning a wedding in my head and via text with my fiance as NCIS dvds play in the background. As I pressed the a button to skip over the opening credits it dawned on me just how much my life has changed since I was that little three year old girl. Back then, nothing made me happier than tripping after my sisters, trying my darndest to keep up, and seeing a boat up close and personal just made my world. We didn't have computers or cell phones or DVD players or HD television or even real cable. Instead I sprawled on the floor with my grandfather and taught him to play Candyland while my baby sister strained to see over the edges of her playpen. My seven-year-old sister had learned to crochet. The three eldest of us and my two cousins were entertained for hours by a monkey that would convulse when it heard applause. We played tiddly-winks. Life was so much simpler back in 1989.
I remember being a kid and dreaming of what I'd be like when I was older, and now that I'm older I don't FEEL older until I watch those videos and remember the pure simple joy of being a kid and being alive. I often say I wish I knew then what I know now, but that's a complete and total lie. If I knew then what I know now, the weight of the world would be on my shoulders and I wouldn't be a kid at all, and I would never have known joy. That three year old knew who she was. She knew what made her happy. She had parents who loved her, who had full lives ahead of them. She had three sisters she loved being around. She was free.
So I won't.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Strike That... reverse it...
My to-do list feels like it's just getting longer... and longer.... and looonnnngggeerrrr........
Today I checked one thing off my list: find an apartment in Cincinnati so I can move and start my new job. Check. Well, half check. I found a place that I like and I can afford, but they may not have any 1 bedrooms free until AFTER my first day at the new post. So they're going to let me camp out in a different apartment temporarily until mine is free and clean. This means lots of driving and transporting. (But the apartment is walking distance from the church I love down there. SCORE!)
So that's done. But now I have to get crackin' on the wedding plans. As much as I'd love to just go to the courthouse with close fam and get it over with, I really can't do that. People would be offended. And it wouldn't be any fun! So I have to call the church and find a reception hall, preferably before I move. Otherwise I have no idea how to begin planning a wedding. Any pointers??
Next, I have to pack all of my stuff. Easy enough, most of it is packed STILL and has been for the past year. But I've accumulated.
Christmas shop. I'm halfway done, gots lots more to buy still, and I'm then going to not buy anything for a very long time.
Figure how I'm going to go to Cleveland to meet with my aunt so she can meet my Clyde after I go to my best friend's bachelorette party in Columbus and make it back to Cincinnati in enough time to get some sleep before work Monday.
Find furniture. At this moment, I have a bed and a mattress, but no box spring (kinda important....), two bookshelves, a desk, and a TV stand. Oh, and a fake tree. I need a couch, a chair, a coffee table, another lamp, and a dining set, even if it's just a card table and folding chairs. Goodwill, here I come!
Finally got the bill for my surgery nearly two months ago, and I have to call them. I hate making phone calls.
Funeral tomorrow for my family doctor, who died suddenly on Monday. Canton on Saturday, Norton on Sunday to meet with possible minister for the wedding before driving to Cambridge for a bridal shower at 3pm. Work till Wednesday and help my mom scour the house so it's perfect for hosting Thanksgiving dinner on - duh - Thanksgiving.
And there's more but you're already bored and I'm getting stressed so I'm shutting it now.
Today I checked one thing off my list: find an apartment in Cincinnati so I can move and start my new job. Check. Well, half check. I found a place that I like and I can afford, but they may not have any 1 bedrooms free until AFTER my first day at the new post. So they're going to let me camp out in a different apartment temporarily until mine is free and clean. This means lots of driving and transporting. (But the apartment is walking distance from the church I love down there. SCORE!)
So that's done. But now I have to get crackin' on the wedding plans. As much as I'd love to just go to the courthouse with close fam and get it over with, I really can't do that. People would be offended. And it wouldn't be any fun! So I have to call the church and find a reception hall, preferably before I move. Otherwise I have no idea how to begin planning a wedding. Any pointers??
Next, I have to pack all of my stuff. Easy enough, most of it is packed STILL and has been for the past year. But I've accumulated.
Christmas shop. I'm halfway done, gots lots more to buy still, and I'm then going to not buy anything for a very long time.
Figure how I'm going to go to Cleveland to meet with my aunt so she can meet my Clyde after I go to my best friend's bachelorette party in Columbus and make it back to Cincinnati in enough time to get some sleep before work Monday.
Find furniture. At this moment, I have a bed and a mattress, but no box spring (kinda important....), two bookshelves, a desk, and a TV stand. Oh, and a fake tree. I need a couch, a chair, a coffee table, another lamp, and a dining set, even if it's just a card table and folding chairs. Goodwill, here I come!
Finally got the bill for my surgery nearly two months ago, and I have to call them. I hate making phone calls.
Funeral tomorrow for my family doctor, who died suddenly on Monday. Canton on Saturday, Norton on Sunday to meet with possible minister for the wedding before driving to Cambridge for a bridal shower at 3pm. Work till Wednesday and help my mom scour the house so it's perfect for hosting Thanksgiving dinner on - duh - Thanksgiving.
And there's more but you're already bored and I'm getting stressed so I'm shutting it now.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Now it's my turn.
Okay. So, there's this blog I read called biscuit (idk how to link things, so we'll leave it at that...) and I've been reading her blog for months but today she posted a semi-intro about herself.
I'm a copycat. So it's my turn.
I'm Emily.
I don't do long walks on the beach, I hate the color pink, and there's a unicorn over there.
I'm weird. Like, super weird, especially when it comes to my sense of humor. It's just... no one gets it. And they think I'm mean. I'm really not, I promise!
Sarcasm just doesn't translate in text. And according to my finace, you never know if I'm being serious when I'm talking either.
Yup. I'm engaged! :D
This blog was actually started kind of a long time ago and really I used it to keep my family up-to-date on my life when I lived in Connecticut. So there are some really super effing long posts that I do not expect anyone to ever read. So don't bother, it'll probably just bore you.
I like to write, and I'm wordy (another family trait... blame my ancestors) but I have trouble being inspired. Hence the stealing of biscuit's idea.
Admittedly, I care far too much about how I look, mostly in terms of weight. Which is stupid, because I am perfectly normal and I like food, thank you very much.
Caffeine gives me panic attacks, so I don't drink soda or coffee and I can't eat chocolate. I'm also almost a vegetarian (I eat chicken sometimes).
I'm pale. But I discovered yesterday that I do not have ivory skin. I have alabastor skin. And I found makeup to match. This makes me almost stupidly excited.
Unlike a lot of people, I have NO IDEA what I want to be when I grow up. I'm 24. I have a Bachelor of Arts in Communications with minors in English and theater. Have I used any of it? Nope! Go me!
I love love love trivia. Trivial Pursuit is actually my favorite game, and I have at least three books of useless information.
Twitter? What's that? I Facebook. Feel free to become my friend. (www.facebook.com/emily.blood) But if you do, be sure to write a message to tell me who you are, otherwise I'll reject you.
Making friends is kinda easy for me. However, I have no friends within a 15 minute drive of my house. In fact, they're spread pretty much all over the U.S. and parts of Europe. In moving, I intend for that to change. We shall see.
I am of the opinion that I am very boring. I apologize if you think that's true.
MUSIC. I sing a lot, but usually when no one can really hear me. Solos make me nervous. My whole family is musical, and we sing the doxology in, like, twelve part harmony at our gatherings (reunions, Turkey Day, Christmas, etc). Maybe someday I'll figure out how to post a video of me/my family singing. We're pretty fantastical, if I do say so myself.
However, regardless of the above statement, I don't like Glee. Figure THAT one out.
I crochet. And knit. And sew. Be jealous.
Aaaaand I'm done. Have a great day.
I'm a copycat. So it's my turn.
I'm Emily.
I don't do long walks on the beach, I hate the color pink, and there's a unicorn over there.
I'm weird. Like, super weird, especially when it comes to my sense of humor. It's just... no one gets it. And they think I'm mean. I'm really not, I promise!
Sarcasm just doesn't translate in text. And according to my finace, you never know if I'm being serious when I'm talking either.
Yup. I'm engaged! :D
This blog was actually started kind of a long time ago and really I used it to keep my family up-to-date on my life when I lived in Connecticut. So there are some really super effing long posts that I do not expect anyone to ever read. So don't bother, it'll probably just bore you.
I like to write, and I'm wordy (another family trait... blame my ancestors) but I have trouble being inspired. Hence the stealing of biscuit's idea.
Admittedly, I care far too much about how I look, mostly in terms of weight. Which is stupid, because I am perfectly normal and I like food, thank you very much.
Caffeine gives me panic attacks, so I don't drink soda or coffee and I can't eat chocolate. I'm also almost a vegetarian (I eat chicken sometimes).
I'm pale. But I discovered yesterday that I do not have ivory skin. I have alabastor skin. And I found makeup to match. This makes me almost stupidly excited.
Unlike a lot of people, I have NO IDEA what I want to be when I grow up. I'm 24. I have a Bachelor of Arts in Communications with minors in English and theater. Have I used any of it? Nope! Go me!
I love love love trivia. Trivial Pursuit is actually my favorite game, and I have at least three books of useless information.
Twitter? What's that? I Facebook. Feel free to become my friend. (www.facebook.com/emily.blood) But if you do, be sure to write a message to tell me who you are, otherwise I'll reject you.
Making friends is kinda easy for me. However, I have no friends within a 15 minute drive of my house. In fact, they're spread pretty much all over the U.S. and parts of Europe. In moving, I intend for that to change. We shall see.
I am of the opinion that I am very boring. I apologize if you think that's true.
MUSIC. I sing a lot, but usually when no one can really hear me. Solos make me nervous. My whole family is musical, and we sing the doxology in, like, twelve part harmony at our gatherings (reunions, Turkey Day, Christmas, etc). Maybe someday I'll figure out how to post a video of me/my family singing. We're pretty fantastical, if I do say so myself.
However, regardless of the above statement, I don't like Glee. Figure THAT one out.
I crochet. And knit. And sew. Be jealous.
Aaaaand I'm done. Have a great day.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
So here's a story.
So now I'm going to tell you about my best friend. Because she's basically the coolest person ever. And hopefully she doesn't mind.
Meet Jessie.
Jessie likes Vogue magazine, care packages, and Spanish moss.
We like to vintage and thrift and find used books and go to Starbucks to crochet on warm nights.
***filling empty space***
Meet Jessie.
Jessie likes Vogue magazine, care packages, and Spanish moss.
We like to vintage and thrift and find used books and go to Starbucks to crochet on warm nights.
***filling empty space***
When we hang out, most of the time I'm on my comp and she's on hers and we don't talk unless we want to.
This one time, we made cupcakes. It was epic.
She lives 4.5 hours away from me, in KY, and has a Southern accent. Soon, though, she'll only be 1.5 hours away, and that will be ah-mazing.
Obviously there's more to her, but she's my best friend and I don't like to share.
Be jealous.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Moving
All of my hard work has paid off and I recieved a call last week from my boss asking how soon I intended to move down to Cincinnati because I was going to be moved from just a work-from-home-temp into a temp-to-hire in a different department. I have to move to Cincinnati by Nov 29th! So of course this means extended conversations with my fiance about how we're going to make this work, asking for help from my Cincy friends on where on earth I could live, looking online, figuring a budget, saving as much of my money as I can until I move so I have a bit of a buffer, etc etc. I'll admit, it's really stressful! But I'm also really excited. The last time I spent an extended period down there was a really great experience and I can't wait to be back there getting reacquainted with those people I met before. PLUS (this is my favorite part) I'll have normal working hours and nights off. SO EXCITED!
On a different note, my poor fiance has had a rough month or so at the new job he took the day before my surgery. He gets up at 3am or earlier so he can be there by 4:30 and sometimes ends up working until 5 or later! It's ridiculous and it's killing not just his energy but also his spirit and it's rather contagious. This morning he called after his first delivery to tell me he has a meeting tomorrow at the store he used to manage and we're both hopeful that they'll take him back, not necessarily as the manager but as something, anything. This in itself will make it easier for him to move to Cincy with me after the wedding, if that's what we decide we want to do. He will also be happier with set hours, more time for sleep, for life, and I'm really excited for him.
Happier note, on Halloween the only seasonal activity my dear Clyde and I got to do was bake some pumpkin-shaped ginger cookies and then frost and decorate them with candy corn, sprinkles and red crystals. SO fun, and very tasty!
On a different note, my poor fiance has had a rough month or so at the new job he took the day before my surgery. He gets up at 3am or earlier so he can be there by 4:30 and sometimes ends up working until 5 or later! It's ridiculous and it's killing not just his energy but also his spirit and it's rather contagious. This morning he called after his first delivery to tell me he has a meeting tomorrow at the store he used to manage and we're both hopeful that they'll take him back, not necessarily as the manager but as something, anything. This in itself will make it easier for him to move to Cincy with me after the wedding, if that's what we decide we want to do. He will also be happier with set hours, more time for sleep, for life, and I'm really excited for him.
Happier note, on Halloween the only seasonal activity my dear Clyde and I got to do was bake some pumpkin-shaped ginger cookies and then frost and decorate them with candy corn, sprinkles and red crystals. SO fun, and very tasty!
Hope you're having a great week!
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