How I Met Your Murder

Gary and I have been doing this experiment with the dogs for the past few weeks where we leave them inside if we're only going to be gone for a short period of time. We started out with a 20 minute trip, then 30, then an hour...you get the idea. (Or I don't know, do you?) And it's been going great! In fact, just the other night we were bragging to my cousin Michelle and her boyfriend Derek (who are visiting from Chicago and hopefully about to make a decision to move here, eh Michelle? Eh? Eh? EH?) about how well-behaved our dogs are.

So naturally, since we got cocky, yesterday that experiment went horribly, horribly wrong. But before I revisit the horror film I came home to, let's take a moment to reflect on the parts of yesterday that didn't send me spiraling into a murderous rage: Michelle, Derek and I went horseback riding around Garden of the Gods for two hours and it was AWESOME!

Ahh, just look at me. So young. So happy. So blissfully unaware of the nightmare that was unfolding back home at that very moment...

Not pictured: A similar situation with the bathroom trash, a shattered bowl* and matching beer bottle** on the kitchen floor, and the contents of two previously unopened bags of Halloween candy strewn all over my backyard. OH and two dead dogs, 'cause you know, I figured that would be kind of disturbing.

*Whose pattern has been discontinued from Target...so what I'm saying is it's practically irreplaceable.
**Which was half full because Gary's either a lightweight or extremely forgetful...you be the judge.

Ipso Facto...Nickelback Is the Devil

Hey, so remember how last week I was all like, "You have until Monday to vote and then I'll talk about this again!" and then Monday came and I did NOT talk about it again?

I have only myself to blame. Myself and Nickelback*.

Anyway the results are in...kind of. According to the official results, hundy wins. But I have a strong suspicion that something went awry with the poll I used, because a certain person who sits in the cubicle across from me and shall remain nameless** attempted several times to vote for hundo with no success, but not for a lack of computer literacy. I REPEAT: SHE IS EXTREMELY COMPUTER LITERATE AND WOULD PROBABLY BE A GREAT CANDIDATE FOR A JOB THAT REQUIRED A HIGH LEVEL OF FAMILIARITY WITH WEB 2.0. What? No reason; I was just saying.

Anyway...where was I? I'm sorry, I was distracted by how awesome my friend is. OH yes. I was going to tell you who said what!

Gary said hundo and Sarah said hundy.

This seems...sort of anticlimactic.

How about this:

Gary said hundo, Sarah said hundy and then there was an EXPLOSION!!!

*How could this possibly be Nickelback's fault, you ask? BECAUSE EVERYTHING THAT IS BAD IS NICKELBACK'S FAULT. 
**No she won't. It was Sam.

Not Too Shabby

You know those days when you get bad news, put your shirt on inside out and somehow end up accidentally using your husband's toothbrush instead of your own?

Turns out those days aren't so bad when you get to work and find that your coworkers were prepared with flowers, brownies, nutella and a GIANT BARREL OF CHEESE BALLS.

My coworkers are the best coworkers.

LOOK AT IIIIIIIT!

We got a TV! Kind of! AND IT'S THE MOST GIGANTIC TV OF THEM ALL!!!

Actually it's a projector, but LOOK HOW BIG THE SCREEN IS!

LOOK HOW BIG SHIA LABEOUF'S FACE IS!!!

AND LOOK HOW GHETTO OUR RIG IS!!!

That last part is just temporary until we get cords long enough to run around the room. Maybe.

This Is More of a...Fuzzy Friday

This song, man, it speaks to me. Plus it has Muppets.

Hundy Vee Hundo

Back by popular demand: A POLL!

A rather heated debate took place in my living room last night regarding the proper way to slang up the word "hundred". I've decided not to reveal which person insisted on which version in the interest of fairness. This isn't a popularity contest; it's just a regular contest.

I'll give you an example of each so you can make an educated decision.

HUNDO

Person A: How much did that TV set you back?
Person B: Around five hundo.

HUNDY

Person A: Percentagewise, how much of your heart would you say is dedicated to loving Emily Gray?
Person B: A hundy fo sho.

I'll give you until Monday at 8am to cast your votes, and then I'll announce which member of my family (Sarah or Gary) has the right to stick his or her tongue out at the other member.

CLICK HERE to get your vote on!

Mean Girls

Well...just one mean girl. Me.

I was over at Sarah's house until pretty late last night (meaning I was there until 9:30...which is really late for me OKAY?) so instead of having her drive me home, I just took her car and then went to pick her up before work this morning.

Sarah lives in a really cute house over in the Old North End of Colorado Springs. The house shares a driveway with the next door neighbors, which wouldn't be a big deal except that the neighbors are having the concrete redone on their side of the driveway. I parked on Sarah's side, waved a friendly hello to the construction workers, and went inside to wait for Sarah to finish getting ready.

About fifteen minutes later, Sarah's doorbell rang. Rachel (Sarah's roomie who I LOVE*) answered the door and then came and told us that the construction guys wanted us to move our car** so they could get the cement truck in. For reasons I can't explain, this really annoyed me, but I brushed it off because I knew we were going to be leaving in like five minutes so I was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

Turns out it was a problem, because about thirty seconds later I could hear the mechanical exhale of a cement truck attempting to squeeze it's churning abdomen into Sarah's driveway, blocking us in and instantly advancing my mood from mildly annoyed to full-on RAGING PISSED.

I grabbed my keys, marched outside, stood in front of Sarah's car with my arms crossed and stared the meanest, most intense you-are-so-inconveniencing-me-right-now stare I've ever stared straight at the truck driver. The head construction guy took one look at me and then started scrambling to get the truck driver to back up and GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY because I suspect he could tell I was about a second away from getting in the car and just ramming the tar out of everything in sight. (Sarah drives a Ford Focus, why do you ask?)

My rage began to ebb as we drove away, and, as per usual in situations like these, it was replaced with a good deal of guilt and remorse. Those poor guys were just trying to do their job, not to mention the fact that I DON'T EVEN LIVE THERE so it was really none of my business in the first place.

So I guess the moral of this story is this: Acting like a crazy bee might get you what you want in the moment, but in the end it will make you feel like ess.

Also Santa's not real, Two and a Half Men is still the number one show on television, and Diet Dr. Pepper doesn't taste anything like regular Dr. Pepper.

THE END

*The fact that I love her doesn't really have anything to do with this story but it's true so I thought I'd just throw it in there.
**It's just Sarah's car, but I like to think of it as "our" car because it makes me feel like less of a mooch.

Dirty Thirty

Since today marks one year of Weight Watching, I thought I'd show you some pictures of my progress so far. I've lost a total of 30 pounds (and if you're like, "Wait, didn't she say she lost 30 pounds like 3 months ago?" then you should probably LOOK AT THAT BIRD OVER THERE! It turns out the blog isn't the only thing from which I've been vacationing of late...but whatever.)

Anyway here's me one year ago:



And here's me last night!

Anyway I still have a ways to go, but I have to say I feel pretty good! It's easy to get down on myself for "only" losing 30 pounds in a year, but then I just try to remind myself that most years I do nothing, and this year I happened to drop 30 pounds. ON TO THE NEXT 30!

:::REAL QUICK:::

Okay I know I said I was taking a week off - and I am - but SOMETHING AMAZING HAS HAPPENED and I just had to tell someone. Like a hundred and fifty someones.

Okay, so...remember how we moved? And how I hated our previous landlords with a fervor bordering on the unreasonable? And how I kept saying I didn't even know why we were bothering to clean because I knew those %$*&#s weren't going to give us any of our deposit back?

WELL THEY DID GIVE US SOME OF OUR DEPOSIT BACK.

FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY ONE DOLLARS OF IT.

THAT'S MORE THAN HALF!

IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!!

Does this make me regret all the bad things I said about them? Not even a little bit. I still think they're dirty scoundrels; I'm just gonna chalk this one seemingly good deed up to an accounting error that I'm sure they'll discover in a week or so only to find that it's TOO LATE because we'll already have SPENT IT LIKE IT'S HOT! ON A NEW MATTRESS! WITHOUT ANY KIND OF AIR-PUMP MECHANISM OR WEIRD DIVIDER IN THE MIDDLE!

THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIIIIIFE!!!

Party Like It's 1492!

Do you guys know how much I love Columbus Day???

I love Columbus Day SO MUCH that I've decided to celebrate by taking a short vacation from the blog. It probably won't be any longer than a week, but you know how it is when you're on vacation and you're having a good time and then you just decide never to go back to work because you're extremely wealthy and you can afford to do things like that?

Well this isn't exactly like that since I'm not even a little bit wealthy and I don't get paid to write this blog.

Also I don't really care about Columbus Day.

The important thing is that my brain's been hurting more than usual lately, and I'd really like to try and get the ol' girl back in working order before publishing anything else on the Internet.

SO SEE YA NEXT WEEK! MAYBE!

Sometimes, When You Are A Woman...

Sometimes, when you are a woman, you'll have a very important meeting with some very important people.

Because you are a woman, you'll decide that you should probably buy some big girl heels to wear to the meeting because the cheap Walmart ballet flats you usually wear don't seem quite businessy enough.

And then sometimes, your very important meeting with very important people will turn out to be two very important blocks from where you thought it would be, giving you several very important blisters on your feet.

THE END

Ten Four

Today is my three year wedding anniversary!

DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS???

We managed to make it three whole years without any surprise babies!!!

To celebrate, we're going to sharpen all the low corners in our house, play loud music and cuss up a storm.

The Freakin' Weekend

Saturday night I stayed in my house overnight by myself for the first time ever. Usually when Gary goes out of town I make Sarah come stay with me to make sure I don't get murdered, but this weekend she was also out of town (visiting our parents and meeting our sister's new boyfriend and eating Taco Delite and what? I'm not jealous! OKAY I'M EXTREMELY JEALOUS.) so I was left to fend for myself.

Before I barricaded myself into my house, I figured I should make a trip to gather the essentials. "The essentials" consist of sour gummy worms, happy colas, Safeway Select Salted Pretzel Caramel ice cream (shout out to Leah Armstrong for suggesting it/making me fat) and a Jumbo Parrot Bay Coconut Shrimp appetizer from Red Lobster with extra piña colada sauce, in case you were wondering. Now you might be thinking to yourself, "Oh, that Emily, always the jokester, pretending like she purchased and consumed each of those items." As my waistline is my witness, this is no joke.

I considered offering an explanation to the cashier as she was ringing up my two bags of gummy candy and tub of ice cream such as, "Girls' night," accompanied by a conspiratorial smile, or, "My sister just broke up with her boyfriend," which would no doubt be met with a sympathetic pout...but instead I just stood there, bold-faced in shameless gluttony, silently daring her to comment on my impending weight gain.

Then I went home and rented the most embarrassing movie I could find on iTunes - Disney's Prom - and successfully got through all the shrimp and probably half the candy.

When the movie was over, I started working on some curtains for my bedroom while listening to a new audio book my mom sent me. (Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. You should read it, or better yet, listen to the audio book because it's narrated by my favorite guy ever, Jim Dale.)

At about 9:30 I ran out of white thread. I considered going to get more, but as that would have required venturing outside in the dark, I opted to watch Prom again and then fall asleep on the couch flanked by both my guard dogs.

I managed to make it through the night with only one dream about someone breaking in to try to kill me. (The guy in my dream didn't actually break in with the intention of killing me, at first. I forgot to lock the front door and he just walked into the wrong house holding a beer and a pizza box, which might seem like a non-scary, drunken misunderstanding, but then when he saw that I was home alone and armed with only a pillow, he was kinda like, "Well, I'm here...I guess I might as well kill you.")

Sunday morning I was so amazed at having survived the night unharmed and unrobbed that I decided to celebrate with a trip to Walmart for more string and a copy of Prom on DVD. I'm not even embarrassed. (Okay I'm super embarrassed but I'm trying my darndest to drown my shame in a sea of bravado.)

So in closing, and to distract you from what a nerd I am, LOOK WHAT I MADE!