In Humble Thanks

In honor of the huge Thanksgiving lie of the Pilgrims and "Indians" coming together with peace and benevolence, I am obligated to share a list of crap I am thankful for.

1. Jear-Bear
My good-looking husband who accepts the fact that I only cook twice a year, that I don't wake up beautiful, and rarely act appropriately. My life would certainly be much less awesome without him.

2. My Fam

With people like the Barlockers and Scotts in my life, it is fair to say I am a lucky girl. Though I am about 98% sure my family likes Jared more than me, I am still grateful for them. Plus, only 1 or 2 of them talk trash about us and our questionable lifestyle.

3. My New Ride

After a few (or maybe 7-8) "incidents" with my driving ability and car(s), I am now driving this manly piece of machinery. Don't be jealous. I am mostly thankful that I don't have to ride my bike to the Metrolink at 6am.

I am obviously grateful for much more, but being that its about time for my bi-annual cooking, I need to make pumpkin pies. Wish me luck! (Dont worry, if things go awry I have a Costco coupon.)



Yesterday I was peed on.

And I was not the one doing the peeing..... Seriously.

At church I work in the nursery. I basically get to ditch the boring classes to hang out with 1-3 year old kids and eat snacks. Though it sometimes is a little chaotic, it's mostly awesome.

As a mom dropped her adorable little girl off yesterday, I took her and held her to calm her down. Kids who are new to nursery usually cry the first few weeks when their parents leave. Anyway, I took her and she stopped crying within a couple of minutes. She really loves to be held and because she is so cute someone is always holding her.

That is when I felt a steamy warmth spread across my new Anthropologie shirt. I thought she was for sure going number one, but I didn't think it was leaking. So I held for about 10 more minutes. I got a chair and sat down. As I put her on my lap I noticed my shirt clung to my stomach. I cautiously poked the saturated area to see if it was, in fact, pee.

It was.

I lifted her up off my lap and to my horror, saw the moist pee stamp on my skirt.

I am not very used to getting peed on by anyone, other than myself.

I didn't know what to do. As I held the kid at arms length, I delivered her to her mom. I ran back and quickly told the other ladies in nursery that I had to go home and change. I knew if I didn't hurry I could die from being grossed out.

I ran home and put on another urine-free shirt. My heartbeat returned to normal. Feeling much better, I returned to finish my sentence as nursery leader.

Jared also made fun of me all day.


Hi. My name is Emily and I'm an Addict.

Having recently become a Documentary-aholic, I would like to invite whoever is reading this to come along with me on my path to compulsive addiction.

My substance abuse problems all started years ago when I offered a viewing of Girlhood, a documentary about teen girls in the foster care system. I tried not to give into peer pressure but in the end my convictions were too weak. I gathered with the others in a small remote basement room and closed my eyes, knowing that I was about to watch something that was potentially addicting. I promised myself that no matter how good the video was, I would only do it this once.

That's when I started getting into the show. It was amazing. Like nothing I have ever experienced before. I knew I wanted more, and that I would never be able to just stop at one.

At first my usage was casual. You know, just special occasions or on the weekends. But before long I watching every Documentary anyone recommended to me. I even took random recommendations from people I barely knew. I watched Nanook of the North; the 1st documentary ever made, Guns Germs and Steel, Why we fight, Waste=Food, Blue Planet, Hitler, Born into Brothels, and other fascinating films.

I knew I had reached the point of no return when last week as I was ordering a textbook from Amazon.com, I checked over both my shoulders and sneakily added a few DVDs into my checkout cart. When Jared saw the our online bill I nonchalantly admitted to ordering my textbook, and maybe a couple of other things.....
When the DVDs arrived in the mail, Jared realized that I had a problem. Borrowing Documentaries from the Library was no longer good enough for me. I had to have my own copies.

I have since come to terms with my addiction. And because misery loves company it is probably a good idea that you hit up your local library or youtube for the following:

Children Underground
Quite possibly one of my favorite documentaries. It follows the life of a few kids in Romania living in the Underground Subway stations. Stealing food, paint sniffing, and violence make this film both amazing and sad.

Taxi to the Dark Side
Details United States torture practices in the Middle East and at Guantanamo Bay. Comments on the loss of American ideals in the quest for national security.

My Flesh and Blood

Susan Tom and her 11 adopted special needs children. 8 year old Faith's story, whose entire head is covered in scars from a fire, is especially touching. If you are ever feeling sorry for yourself, watch 10 min of this film and all will be well.

Dark Days
Homeless people who live permanently in New York's Subway tunnels. Also referred to as the "Mole People" they discuss the horrors of childhood, jail time, losing children, being coke-heads.

Planet Earth

Because our world is awesome. Can I get an Amen?


Princess Emily

While visiting Utah in August I caught a hummingbird.

That's right.. I caught a humming bird.

I catch lizards, snakes and bugs all the time but I have never caught a bird. Much less a hummingbird. So needless to say, I was pretty proud of myself.

After I held it for a while because it was so cute, it pooped on me. I decided I should probably let it go. I went on my parents deck to release it and instead of flying away it hung out with me for a little while.

I cannot help it if nature loves me.

It must be the daily grace and elegance I exude..... or something along those lines. amen.


Meet Daniel, Baniel, Fo Faniel

My huge little brother is coming home from his Mormon Mission this week. Having had many friends and two other brothers serve 2 year missions, I hope/expect that Daniel (a.k.a Tons-of-Fun) will be much balder, a little older and most importantly, somewhat wiser.

Daniel is not someone known for his brilliance and social tact. He is more known for his kindness, his Napoleon Dynamite inspired dancing (particularly at my wedding), and for his trust in other human beings.

As children, I instigated most of the deviance in our house. Daniel was an unfortunate victim of many of my pranks. I exploited his trust and gullibility on a daily basis. For instance:

  • When Tons-of-Fun was about 5 years old, I convinced him that from now on we all have to poop out of our heads. I put my head towards the toilet bowl to demonstrate. "You still have to pull your pants down" I explained, knowing that Dan had utmost confidence in my authority of all things poop-related. Next time he had to go #2, he followed instructions perfectly. He promptly immersed his head in toilet water and dumped on the floor. I went and told my mom.
  • Dan-the-man also has really light blond eyebrows. After a serious discussion on how girls don't like boys without eyebrows, he agreed to let me dye his. The only problem was that I used the leftovers from my purple hair dye. He walked around in shame being called "Barney" by the rest of the family for weeks.

Regardless of past gullibility, Daniel is a good and fun guy. I am stoked he is coming home safe and look forward to future shenanigans.

Dear Tons-of-fun,
I cant wait for your wedding....
Expect much worse than a Napoleon Dance.





I Love Things

"The best things in life aren't things."

This clever play on the original quote, "The best things in life are free", was scratched into the paint on a bathroom stall at Cal State University. Mid-pee, I was forced to contemplate my relationship with material goods. The person/philosopher who wrote this had obviously:

A) been extremely bored while going #1 or #2
been inspired by the "for a good time call XXX-2959" message written below it
C) come to the profound conclusion that tangible objects are not what makes life worth living.

Apparently this person has never been to Costco.

A few of my favorite:

The Swiffer
This little beauty sweeps up the stuff your broom leaves behind.

And the little sweeper things are disposable. I am all about reducing waste, but not when throwing it away is so convenient. Available in bulk at Costco.

My iPod
Many a plane rides and sessions at the gym would be ruined if it wasn't for my iPod. I can listen to 8 gigs of music while ignoring those around me. If someone tries to talk to me, I can politely refuse by pointing to my headphones and mouthing the words, "Sorry! I cant hear you!", making my anti-social behavior slightly more acceptable. (Also a Costco purchase.)

Where else am I going to see all the cool kids from high school who are now overweight and paroled? Do not tell me that you don't feel giddy when someone from your past, fails at life.

Hot Dog and Drink for $1.50
Also available at your local Costco.

Pink Lip gloss
I would die without it. Sadly, not available at Costco or any Farmers Market.......yet.

My House
Even though it is old and still boasts the cross from the nuns that used to live here, I am stoked that I don't have to live in anyone's basement anymore.

Pen and Moleskin Notepads
How else would I fill up time while sitting in class and church. I need a creative outlet. It just so happens to be that my outlet involves drawing naughty pictures and showing them to the people around me.

Adult Acne Topical Cream
Is an explanation really needed? Without it, I look like I am an angst filled 14 year old who does not yet know the value of washing your face.

Lets all take this day to forget what is really important and ponder all the material possessions that make our life worth living.


Crying Makes Me Angry

I have never been much of a crier.
In fact I loathe crying.

When other people cry it makes me uncomfortable and instead of consoling them I slowly back myself out of the room.

I am sure this stems back to my evil older brother Jacob and the many lies he told me as a child. One of the most influential being: that if I cried too much my eyes would dry out and look like raisins. This made perfect sense to me.

I remember saving a Bubble Tape container, the older ones from the 1990's with the lid, and hiding it under my bed. For a significant period of time after that, every time I felt like I was going to cry I would run in my room and catch the tears in the gum container. I figured that If I save them, when my eyes started to resemble raisins, I could simply pour the used tears back into my eyes. Before long I was able to stop myself from crying altogether.

Messed up. I know.

Still to this day I don't really cry. (And if I do I don't readily admit it.) When I get angry I run or punch stuff. If I get sad, I am angry that I'm sad. Scared? Angry that I'm scared. Stressed? I'll be angry in no time. Its seems to be that my coping mechanism is to turn every negative emotion into anger, and then to me running, punching things or cleaning my house really well. (At least my anger is
sometimes productive.)

Yep. That pretty much sums me up.

Artist: Rachel my sister (who is actually an amazing cartoonist, I should get her to draw some more messed up stuff for me.)

Hmmmm. If I wasn't so cheap I could get a therapist to explore my anger issues... actually, maybe not such a good idea.

Every so often something moves me enough to let a few tears fall. I was reading my friend, BreeAnn's blog who references this blog. It made me cry. Then I punched some stuff. Then I was inspired to grateful for everything I have.

A tearful Amen.


A Post That Is Not About Anything That Gross

I have had more than a few people ask me how I stay fit. Actually it's more like, "Why are you so skinny? I bet you eat whatever you want and not gain a ounce....wahhh! wahhh!" The truth is I work out hard and eat relatively healthy. I have my fat days, but I hate them so much I take steps to ensure there are fewer of them. Here are a few tips that really help me maintain level of fitness:
  • I do at least 100 crunches every day. This may seem a little daunting but you can do it while your watching t.v., reading or microwaving a corn dog. Start out by doing 5 sets of 20 repetitions.
  • If you are trying to lose a few pounds, weigh yourself every day. I gained about 10 or 15 pounds a couple of years ago and didn't even realized it until my boobs were actually filling up my bra. Confused, I stepped on the scale and discovered my gain. I kept a log of my weight every day. Just being aware of what my body was doing made it easier to reach my goals.
  • I don't deprive myself. If I want candy or ice cream etc. I will eat a bowl of cereal, a granola bar or an apple before. Eating something healthy before helps me to not eat as much of the good stuff. I am not a believer in deprivation. I think if you cut out yummy food cold turkey, you are bound to binge on it at some point. And then when the person you live with finds empty ice cream buckets in the garbage you feel like a dirty little cheater (just like I did when I was caught eating cake batter right before we moved.)
  • I have healthy snacks available all the time. It is too easy to eat bad if you are always in a hurry. I have a ton of fruits and vegetables ready in my refrigerator to grab and go. I prepare them and package them in Tupperware or in Ziploc bags so that I can throw a few in my purse as I race to work or school. I have a huge box of granola bars in my car too.
Good snacks for busy or late people:
baby carrots
bell peppers (I usually throw a mix of vegetables into each individual bag.)
granola bars or Nutri-grain bars
string cheese
(I usually just stock up with whatever is on sale that week.)
  • I only drink water. If I am going to waste 250 calories on something, it is not going to be on soda. Juice is fine every once and a while but you have to be aware of the sugar content. I keep a box of water bottles in my trunk so I have some if I forget my glass bottle. Drinking a ton of water also helps my angry adult acne from reeking havoc on my face.
  • I do some kind of cardio at least twice a week. Nothing trims my body down as good as a run or walk through the neighborhood. If your neighborhood has creepy and/or rapey looking people like my does, you can go during daylight hours or with a friend. (I feel too weird when I jog with a handgun or taser.)
  • I also motivate myself by buying episodes of The Girls Next Door to watch on my iPod while I use the treadmill at 24 hour fitness. The anticipation of seeing what girl is going to pretend to love Hugh Hefner more has motivated me to run many times. I am only allowed to watch them if I am on a treadmill. Rewards are the best, buy your self a new pair of gym shorts or a tank top every once and a while.
  • I clean the house often and do copious amounts of yard work. Working out while being productive is a beautiful thing.

You too can look as hot as this chick!


P.S. I caught a baby lizard in my bedroom yesterday. I put it in a Tupperware dish and took it with me on all my errands. The girls at the bank were a little grossed out though. I saved it to show Jared, then felt bad for the little guy and let him go.


Squirrel Mowing

Ohio brought many adventures, among my favorites is the lawn mower. You see, through a wild chain of connections Jared and I were able to finagle a deal to mow the empty lots of an upscale housing development. The neighborhood was just beginning development so while the streets and sidewalks were paved, the lots (where the houses were to be built) were covered with newly laid sod. Jared and I bought a commercial grade lawn mower that cost more than my car. We were paid handsomely for the weekly mowing and paid the mower off in 3 months. In time, we ended up purchasing a commercial grade push mower and trimmer. Once a week Jared and I suited up in trucker hats, wife beaters, pink bikini tops, and jean shorts to manicure Sweet Water Development's 10 acres of grass.

I like to call this picture, White Trash in the Summertime. I keep things classy.

I do not have the cleanest driving record..... in fact, I was just in an accident where some guy totaled my 3 week old, 2009 Honda Fit (insert tears). With Jared doing all the trimming I was left with the mower. I happily accepted my new task. I strapped on a pink bikini top hoping to get a tan and hooked up to my iPod. For 5 hours every week I did my best to make Dayton's landscape a little better. Zig-zag, heart, and star shaped patterns were common on lots 3-9. Jared did not appreciate my designs as they took 3 times as long. He also cringed every time I ran over big rocks. This only happened like 5 or 6 times a mowing. I thought that was a pretty low number considering all the rocks that were present. My underestimation of the mower blade clearance caused more problems than just shooting rocks everywhere.
Squirrels are usually skittish and when I approached one on the mower I assumed that he would run. Squirrel road kill is bad enough, but chopped up squirrel guts spraying out the side of your vehicle is a foul, foul experience.

Keep in mind that this is Ohio we are talking about. There was a man-made lake in the middle of all of this. Ohio is lush and green. Some of the prettiest parts of the US are in that area. I loved being outside. But the summers are hot, humid, and angry.
I had to stay hydrated and became embarrassingly good at going "number one" behind the trees.

We sold the mower before we moved to California. I sadly kissed it goodbye. Mowing the lawn here in CA is much different. My lawn is only green beneath the trees that shade it. The rest of the grass is dying and crunchy. I still mow it though. And luckily we have a fence so my neighbors aren't creeped out by my pink bikini and hiking boots. amen.


Bacon, Egg and Cheese Biscuit

Sometimes I may be grumpy in the morning. I am usually sweeter than peaches and cream, but this is only after a full nights rest. Every morning sweet dreams fill my head. They usually consist of strangling the chirping birds and smashing their eggs for waking me up.

Being married to someone who loves to see the sunrise has been somewhat problematic during our last four years together. Not only does Jared love the early mornings, he loves to be especially annoying. He is super cheerful and energetic from the hours of 5 am to 9 am. Because I am not, when he is bored at church Jared usually draws pictures like these:
I am often bribed by the promise of french toast, omelets and homemade coffee cake to get up early and keep him company. I usually turn the bribes down, but not last Saturday.

Jared's Grandparents live up the hill from us. We eat out every once and a while with them and this morning was extra enticing. Grandpa Jim called Jared and asked if he wanted to come to McDonald's to get some breakfast. You all know how much Jared and I love free stuff, so Jared jumped at the chance for some grossly unhealthy breakfast food. While I was sleeping, Jared woke me up to ask if I wanted anything from the greasy eating establishment. I told him I would defiantly wake up for a Bacon, Egg and Cheese Biscuit. He drove off and I went back to sleep with thoughts of re-heated bacon and cheese grease clogging up my arteries. By the time Jared was home I had drooled all over myself.
That's when the bad news came. Jared had only brought home a Sausage McMuffin. This nasty little sandwich looked like it was as old as I am. It was floppy and luke-warm.

I have never been so disappointed in my life.

I was like Christmas morning came and all I got was a floppy sandwich. I felt like punching something. So I looked the McMuffin square in the muff and punched it against the counter. I went to the cupboard to get something else to eat. All I found was nasty granola and flax seed cereal. How am I supposed to satiate my need for pure fat and grease with Kashi health food?
I was so angry that I had woken up for nothing. As I continued stomping around the house and giving dirty looks to all the healthy food, my favorite brother Jake called.

His wife was in labor! Yay! I could not wait for him to be a dad. His child rearing style is going to be more entertaining than Lethal Weapon II.
After this good news I was nice and sweet again. I sincerely apologized to the McMuffin for the punch, laid it to rest in the trash can, and happily ate a bowl of mint cookie ice cream instead.



Thank you for Thanksgiving


The movie theaters in South Salt Lake City.

My unruly but favorite brother Jake and the guy sitting in front of him.

Family tradition dictates that every Thanksgiving we go to see a movie along with thousand of other Mormon families in Salt Lake Valley.
Wherever my brother Jake goes, shenanigans soon follow. After situating all 10 of us in the same row, Jake and his poor wife end up with an isle seat. The theaters will soon become packed but this does not hamper Jake's love of putting his feet on the seat in front of him.

(The following account is relayed from Jake and therefore may or may not be entirely true)

Apparently a couple tried to sit in the seats that Jake was resting his nasty feet upon. The guy takes the seat and lies his head on Jake's Flintstone feet. (Utah is full of crazy people like this.) Jake reluctantly moves he feet but not before the guy had chewed up some popcorn and turned around to shower Jake and his wife with it. Being the classy guy I know Jake is, he hacked up the biggest wad of boogers and spit, then pasted the guys face with it.
The guy, of course, got super-duper-Hulk mad and attacked Jake. They begun to fight as the full theatre filled with grandmas and kids looked on.

This part is true, I saw it with my own eyes:

Within .00235 seconds my 40-something year old Mom had somehow flown down the entire row of seats and had the popcorn-spitting guy by the throat. I swear he was on his tip toes as my Mom's grip tightened. WHAT!?!?!? It was probably one of the coolest/funniest/raddest things I have ever witnessed. My Dad had to pry her off him.

This phenomenon is not uncommon. We have all heard of the women who lift cars to save their children, right? Chalk it up to old woman/mama bear strength. I am sure I will cut the fingernails off of anyone who messes with my kids.

Jared and I were newly married at this point, and as he rethought his decisions, I looked upon my pseudo-crazy family and smiled with small amount of embarrassment and a large amount of pride.


Health 101

My sister in law is a cute thoughtful girl. While living in Ohio she was in High School and as you know, 17 year olds know everything. Jared and I were spending a quiet evening in my Father in law's living room, Jared's sweet sister, whom I'll refer to as Carly, entered the room to use the computer. My father in law, aka Lear-bear, was hanging out with us too.

We somehow got on the topic of how I am more "girlie" than Carly. Carly immediately disagreed, then graced us with the knowledge that she has more estrogen that I do, and therefore my girlishness was a facade. I was curious as to how she measured my estrogen without me knowing.

Jared asked: What makes you think your estrogen levels are higher?

Carly: Because my boobs are way bigger than Emily's.

Jared: Does that mean your vagina is way bigger too?

Carly ended up storming off to her room as Lear-bear and I fell on the floor laughing. I guess I would be mad too if my brother asked me about my big vagina and my dad giggled.

I am going to have to assume that our public schools are not doing a good job at this whole anatomy subject.
Further evidence:
While hanging out with my little sister Sarah on our previous family vacation, I was surprised to learn about how male ejaculation really works. While eating Clam Chowder (ew!), Sarah taught me things I had never learned of before. Apparently Men only ejaculate when having sex. If they are simply um... doing it themselves, nothing comes out.
I asked Sarah if she thought her teacher had ever "done it" before, because surely a married woman would know what she is talking about. She answered that the teacher was pregnant, so we have got to assume everything that comes out of her mouth is gospel truth.

Class Review:

Now we know that boob size is in direct correlation with the amount of estrogen you have. Next time we see a man with boobs, we can assume that his estrogen levels are high.

Knocked up teachers are good resources for questions about male-parts and their functions.

(picture attributed to: http://www.womenshealthmatters.ca/)


Basement Living Digest

Basements are durable living spaces where a little warmth goes a long way. Other people's basements are a great option if you are unstable newlyweds looking to save some money and travel or if you have kids and are saving up funds for their diapers and college. No matter your situation, basement living could be for you.

When choosing your basement, be sure to acknowledge all options. Relatives and in-law's basements usually offer their space rent free. Though you will feel like horny teenagers when you sneak downstairs for some action, the fact that free food is included evens things out. You may feel obligated to spend some time with your landlord/father-in-law so be sure you get along with them first. When inhabiting an extended relatives space it is best to peek into their medicine cabinet to ensure serious psychological issues are not a problem. Don't worry if they are though! You can always sleep with the lights on.

When moving into your new place be sure that whoever is letting you stay there moves most of your stuff in. You want to make sure they feel included. Feel free to cheer them on while you drink
O'douls in your lawn chair. Basements can also be decorated easily with the help of yard sale chandeliers and self painted murals. Homemade flower arrangements also add a classy touch.

While living in Dayton Ohio, my husband and I spent the better part of a year residing in my father-in-law's basement. The basement was an entirely private space. It was not all fun and games but we were able to save some money, travel and be unabashedly selfish.
My parents believed that Jared and I were playing video games in the basement or laying by the pool all day while taking vacations sporadically. Though this was not the case we let them believe this for a while - purely for entertainment purposes. Our lack of employment did not include not working. While avoiding conventional employment we were still extremely productive people.

We bought a questionable old house that Jared completely tore down to the 2x4's and rebuilt. That extended our basement stay for a little while, much to disapproval of many people in our lives. The house was just a few streets over from Jared's family. Some out of state siblings (who I am convinced hate us and our our nonchalance towards employment) were appalled that we didn't mind being around our relatives for more than 2 hours at a time, and that we actually wanted to live by them.

(This is obviously the "before" picture of the house... creepy.)

While visiting my parents in SLC Utah we were touring their new house they had designed and built. Walking through their fully loaded basement I commented, "wow, this place would be perfect to spend the next few years of my life." My dad, Brad, was not amused.

Jared and I have always had goals and plans for reaching them. It just so happens that one of our goals was to be bums and not have paying jobs for a little while. After our shenanigans in Ohio more than a few people were surprised when we got real jobs and bought a house in California.

Slowly but surely our families are beginning to believe us when we promise that we will not be in jail or on welfare within the next two years.


Vacation Fun

A majority of my teenage years were dedicated to extreme rebellion and the proverbial flipping off of the man. Teen angst combined with my parents idea that the only vacation was one to Disney World bred disaster. My family went to Orlando, Florida numerous times. Each day was celebrated at a different theme park. My parents were a little shy to try new destinations, and with 7 kids to wrangle, I didn't blame them.

During the final trip my three brothers and I were left to wander the theme parks without supervision. I am sure my parents were simply trying to avoid the embarrassment a 17 year old girl and her brothers would cause. Obviously our time was spent causing all the trouble we could. Our creativity and ability to outrun security made for fond memories. Although I am not necessarily proud of these moments, I feel it my duty to share the following with you. (OK, I am proud of some of them.)

I am compelled to preform any double dare that comes my way, and when my brother dared me to cop a feel I had no other choice. I think this is the monk guy from Robin Hood.

Another half and hour was spent hiding in a King Tut display at Universal Studios. My older brother and I hid by Mr. Tut's mummy
and as soon as the theme park tour came through we jumped out. Even a hulk hogan look-a-like screamed like a schoolgirl. A pregnant lady almost had her baby. Our get-away was almost ruined by fits of laughter.

This picture of my little brother Daniel was not easy to capture. In order to get next to the statue and preform the purple nurple, Daniel had to evade the 16 year old pimply faced guard. He jumped the barricade and executed the nurple with the grace of a ninja.

Daniel was by far the best person to troll the parks with. For something as simple as a churro, Daniel would wrestle the costumed characters. We would stand in line like we were going to take a picture and as soon as 13 year old Dan got close enough, he would get them in a headlock and force them to the ground. Security response was always immediate but those 8 seconds were
some of the best seconds of my life. Winnie the Pooh being especially memorable.

My older brother Jake was brilliant in this photo. He seems to be catching the trolls dump with ease and skill. The employees of the gift shop were not as impressed as I was.

I totally mooned a giant magnifying glass.
Not much of an explanation is needed here. This was not one of my finest moments, but a masterpiece nonetheless. After the camel toe incident this one seems rather trivial.

Needless to say our shenanigans convinced my parents that theme parks bored us. Our next big family trip was a cruise taken at the beginning of May, and will have to wait for it's own post.



Shameless Shopping

Jared and I are extremely frugal. I would even go so far as to say we are "cheap". But the last few weeks our behavior has been taken to a whole other level. Examples of our frugality:
  • We have an extensive collection of DVDs. I mean its ridiculous how many we have. Two cabinets are full of everything from The Goonies and Labyrinth to Bride Wars and 7 Pounds. We are too cheap to go to the movie theatre, so we are always on the look out for sales on movies. Many date nights have been spent searching for a DVD and watching it while we bask in pride at how we only spent $5.99.
  • I cannot remember the last time I paid full price for anything. I always buy clothes on sale or go through a friend to get the employee discount. I never buy groceries that aren't on sale. If I can find green beans for a good price we'll eat that for the next 2 weeks. Saving money makes the beans taste better.
  • I am also Costco's #1 fan. Can you think of anything better that 3 bottles of toilet cleaner for $7.99? I didn't think so.
  • I am a farmer's market fiend. I drive to Ventura some Saturdays just to take advantage of the amazingly fresh food and low prices. I am usually the only white person there and I buy a lot, so in my broken Spanish I can barter them down a little.
  • I use the library like a crack whore uses crack. Free books? Count me in.
  • Every Saturday I make sure my garbage can for yard waste is full. Whether it's filled with palm fronds or weeds I make sure that I am getting my money's worth of trash collection.
As I mentioned before the last couple of weeks we have taken this to a whole new level.
  • At work, the computer freaked out and printed nonsense on about 300 pages of paper. When I was emptying the trash I saw it. I dug it out and lovingly saved it. Only one side was ruined right? I could totally make little notebooks out of it for my nasty drawings.
    I brought it home and Jared said he was proud of me.
  • Jared also did his fair share of dumpster diving. He came home with about 15 nice size cardboard boxes. Brand new! I don't know what we need them for but we'll figure something out.
  • While we are passionate yard sale shoppers, Jared bought a new bookshelf for ten dollars. It is really nice and originally $20. It was totally worth the $20, but was that good enough? No! We should have just stolen it.

  • We carpool when we can and plan our errands out to minimize gas usage. We have been looking for a more fuel-efficient vehicle and even considered a stripped down Nissan Versa. No air conditioning. No radio. The windows had to be rolled up and down manually and it didn't come with the floor mats. Yes. I actually considered this option.
I took a step back and finally realized that sometimes you have to get some things you want along with the things you need. Otherwise there is no reason to work so hard and save so much.
While I think it is good to not waste things, there is a fine balance that must be maintained. Maybe someday I'll be able to attain it, until then I will proudly comb through trash for little treasures.



Thou Shalt Not Judge

Walking along a busy street filled with shops and sidewalk cafes, I noticed someone across the street. This girl looked like the ultimate brat. She had a scowl on her face and I thought to myself, "what a bi*ch." Unfortunately, those were the exact works I thought in my head. As I gave the snobby girl a dirty look, she shot one right back at me. Disgusted, I started walking again and the girl did too. I was so annoyed. I stopped and threw my hands out and questioned, "What?" Only then did I realize I was talking to my reflection. I'm Awesome. I shook my head in shame and laughed nervously as my reflection giggled along with me.
I could only imagine what other people saw when they looked at me. Even I thought I sucked.

This embarrassing moment happened a few years ago. I am not a mean girl and I don't want to look like one either, so I continuously take measures to not let things like this happen again.

  • I'm not allowed to wear black shirt, black shoes, black pants and black sunglasses at the same time.
  • I do not call girls "bi*ches" in my head anymore.
  • I say a prayer every night that includes asking that I will "think good thoughts about people"
  • I also framed this picture of me and look at it almost everyday to keep myself humble. It's the most effective strategy.



Best Beauty Advice Ever

Every once in a while I feel the need to balance out my karma. I do a lot of dumb things and firmly believe that I should equalize my actions by doing good.
In 2008 while living in Ohio I was invited to be a group facilitator for NCCJ (National Conference for Community and Justice). It is basically a non profit organization that gets large groups of teenagers together and teaches them about understanding and respecting all races, cultures, and religions. They also inform them about conflict resolutions and how to promote peace in their schools and communities. It's a pretty amazing idea. This conference was in Dayton, which is an overall sketchy town. There are a lot of people on welfare and crime is everywhere.
I had to go through a 2 day training course in order to be a "certified facilitator." I met a lot a cool people and some that were not cool at all....

Adam ~ A 25 year grocery bagger and and caffeine addict. 6 cups of coffee before 10 am is not a
good way to start your day. His bouncing legs moved the table 1 inch per minute while his nervous sideways glaces had me convinced he was hallucinating.

Big J ~ A former drug dealer and now an artist. I was really interested in his work and wanted to see it so I could potentially purchase some. That is until he emailed me thumbnails of his art..... He was willing to sell me his Bob Ross-esque paintings for the low price of $400. Needless to say I passed on this opportunity.

This masterpiece can be yours for the low price of $400

Sharla ~ A blond marathon runner who weighed 87 pounds (note: weight may not be entirely accurate) and gave seductive glances to everyone, including me.

Rhonda ~ A red faced girl who tanned too much. She would only talk about her plans to summit Mt. Everest once she gets out of debt for buying too many purses.

Reggie ~ A good looking guy with almost black skin who was addicted to tattoos. He said he had over a 30 tats. It was a shame you could not see any against his dark skin.

My favorite girl was Shawnda. She was black and she was BEAUTIFUL. She had a striking face and a body that I would kill for. After hanging out with her for a few hours I noticed she had quite a few grey hairs. Then I found out she had a 22 year old son. I could have sworn this girl was 22 or 23! I respectfully asked her how old she was, and she said she was 42...... 42!!!

After the training I HAD to ask her what her secret was. (All good looking, put-together women have one.) I was expecting that she used Creme De La Mer or Botox or some other uber-expensive product. Her skin was flawless and she possessed a serenity that only potheads have.
And what she told me was the best beauty advice I have ever heard:

I don't let bad things get me down. When life gets tough I focus on the good things, I keep my cool and look towards the future. That is probably why I don't have wrinkles... I don't waste time worrying about things I cannot change.

Wow. Way cheaper than the stuff I've been using.



As I have mentioned before, I have done my fair share of babysitting and being a nanny. One family in particular made me think that being a mom isn't the worst thing that could happen. It didn't hurt that the little 2 year old girl Amanda, was cuter than an Anthropologie dress.
Steven, the 4 year old man, was one of my favorite little buddies. When watching them for a week while their parents went on a cruise, I had packed my Victoria's Secret Catalogue to look through. He checked it out with me at lunch (not the lingerie section) and told me I was prettier than any of the VS models. From then on I had a special place in my heart for the little liar.
8 year old Marianne is the "perfect child" personified. Not in the annoying way though. She LOVED to read... a girl after my own heart. After the younger two were in bed, she and I would stay up late reading. This caused a little problem. After having to drive her to school after missing the bus for the second time, I was really worried about what her parents would think after finding out about their daughters new tardy record. I explained this to her. She simply said "don't worry! My mom always drops me off late!". Good to know.
I had once made dinner for them, trying to follow their Mom's instructions. I am a bad cook. What was supposed to be Rainbow Macaroni ended looking like Beef a la Vomit. After poking around in the mess placed in front of them, Steven informed me that this didn't really look like what his Mom makes. After a brief pause he then said, "Thanks anyway for trying." Marianne chimed in reassuring me that "even though it looks a little gross, we'll still try to eat it", followed by another "Thanks for trying." Awesome. I know how picky kids can be about food. This is when I realized that being a mom wouldn't suck that bad.

Before moving from Ohio to California I decided to take them all to the Dayton Children's Museum. As we wandered past the mini grocery store and the tiny fire station, I realized that I would probably miss them, which did freak me out a little. Actually a lot. I usually only like kids for about 2-3 hours.

As we approached the American Eagle's enclosure, I was stoked to find that it was feeding time and we were the only people around to watch. I then remembered I was with kids. From my rigorous training as a kid wrangler I know that they sometimes freak out around blood and seeing animals rip each other apart.
Unsure of whether to stay or not, the eagle rushed down and grabbed a chubby white mouse. He landed on a branch right in front of our faces. With the 2 year old in my arms we silently waited for what the eagle would do next. Out of nowhere I hear 4 year old Steven mumbling something. I look over and see his head bowed and arms folded in prayer. Expecting him to be pleading to God for the white mouse's safety I lean closer to decipher his words. Then I hear, "Please Heavenly Father, make the eagle rip the head off the mouse so I can see it's guts.... and make it eat the head too. Amen". God acquiesced and the eagle did just that.

Happy Mothers Day to all of you who raise kids that don't suck.


Meet Dane

I am an idiot.
We have a basement with a walk out entrance, perfect for renting. The only problem is that it looks like a rapist's lair. After weeks on craigslist, someone finally showed some interest. I was so stoked that someone would actually want to live there, that I didn't do any credit or reference checks.

Meet Dane.

At least I was smart enough to make him sign a strong month-to-month contract and demand a hefty security deposit.
During the first few weeks he was a good enough tenant. His creepy looking friends only came in and out in the middle of the night. His 3 year old son went MIA (missing in action), I assumed he was at his grandma's house. He also kept his drunken parties at a reasonable noise level.
Then he got comfortable.

1. He smuggled in his PIT BULL. The contract specifically stated that no animals were allowed. I decided to play it cool and save my nagging for something more significant.

2. His friends started coming in and out all day and night, even when Dane wasn't there. Our neighbors thought we were kingpins in a lucrative drug trade.

3. He started smoking inside.... then denied it. I am pretty dumb, but not that dumb. I know smoke that smells like cigarettes coming through my vents is probably because someone is smoking.

4. His clinically insane father moved in
(really. He's been diagnosed and is on all sorts of meds.) He said he was just spending the night..... every night. He was one of the most creepy men I have ever seen. He looked like he avoided showers like I avoid rape. And he didn't walk, he waddled. He also has a pedosmile (pedophile-smile).

5. While mowing the lawn I picked up a garbage bag full of his dogs feces. I graciously placed them on his front porch.

6. Scattered throughout my lawn along with dog poop, were cigarette butts. EVERYWHERE. Even in my rosebushes. For some one who said they don't smoke, he smoked a lot.

7. He started using my carport as a storage facility. Though I have White Trash tendencies, storing dining room sets and bags of garbage in the front yard is not one of them. Him and his posse regularly littered our yard with trash.

Dear Dane has since been evicted for non-payment of rent. He owed over $1500, but sadly, only taped $500 to my screen door along with a sad note about why he didn't pay the rest. I had no sympathy.

(Jeried Schoot is actually spelled: Jared Scott.)

Today I found snickers and baby ruth candy bar wrappers under a bush. Thank you Dane. You have turned my yard work into a treasure hunt. Thank you.

and amen.


I'd Like to Order a Pizza Please.

In light of recent events at a North Carolina Domino's Pizza, I have thought back to my days working at food establishments.
If you have not seen the disturbing video of two employees doing disgusting things to food, you are lucky, it has now been taken down by youtube. It is awesome that the perpetrators are a 31 year old girl and a 32 year old boy. When I finish school I can only hope to have such a rewarding career. They blow snot, cough, and fart on food they are making for the public. Cheese is cheerfully placed up the dudes nose as the girl videotapes with full commentary. These two look like meth addicts with a penchant for grease baths. Very entertaining.

I have had my fair share of crappy jobs. The most notable being Drive Thru Girl at Taco Bell. I was 15 and worked with a bunch of other adolescent boys. My manager was a closeted lesbian who secretly took me to get my bellybutton pierced. She also gained popularity by letting the rest of the crew drink at her trailer. Surprisingly enough no one ever messed with the food. OK. I take that back. I did ONCE. A fellow classmate whom I hated came through the drivethru and ordered a bean burrito, I made it for him and put some extra meat inside. Not so bad...expect for the fact that he was a Vegan. Also, being teenagers with lots of time and a deep fryer on our hands, we fried a frog... but we dumped the oil out after... I think.

While I was a hostess at TGI Fridays I remember angry servers licking their fingers then stirring their customers drinks. Pretty fowl. This is why I am always polite if I ever eat out.

As a waitress at Outback Steakhouse I never saw the pot heads in the kitchen screw with anything. They took way too much pride in their food creations. I assume this is because other than making a great steak, their marijuana filled lives
weren't that fulfilling. Plus we all know how the munchies make you appreciate and respect food.

UPDATE 4/27/09: I forgot one nasty thing another jaded 40 year old server did at Outback. When customers would piss him off he would "crop dust" them. This maneuver is executed by slowly walking by their table after they received the food and farting, coating them in a layer of your nastiness, hence "crop dusting." Gross, but pretty funny.

Ultimately I think It is still safe to eat out.... unless bitter 30 year olds are making your food.



I Love My Period

Last night Jared and I went to visit our good friends who had just had a little baby girl. She was only 5 lbs or about the size of a pot roast. I hate to admit it but I love little babies. As soon as I walked in I handed New Mom her gift then monopolized the baby. I only let someone else touch her when she pooped her pants. And I still liked her after that.

Jared loves babies more than me. If he could give birth I bet he would. He wants one yesterday. The closer I get to actually having one the more scared I become. For instance, I could have graduated this December, but I decided to take a few more classes and now I'll graduate next spring. I use school as a total cop out.
I have had ample experience with children. I am the second oldest of 7 kids, my older brother was crazy so he doesn't count, I might as well be the oldest. Mom was sick with Colitis and by default I did my fair share of making sure the little brats stayed alive. Though I did my best to make it fun. Punishments included:

-bare knuckle boxing matches between the perpetrators.
-sitting beside the TV so they could watch everyone else watching it.
-cleaning my room or the dirtiest bathroom.
-making my brothers dress up in tutus while I photographed for later blackmail.
This is what happens when you leave an unpaid angry 13 year old in charge.

In recent years I have been a nanny. Don't worry, I am much nicer to kids who aren't my siblings. I have watched kids for up to two weeks at a time while the parents go on vacation. I help out in the nursery at church and I'm in love with those little humans. Maybe this is why I am unsure about having children: I know exactly what I am getting into....well I have a pretty good idea.

Also, I am selfish. I figure these are some of the only times in my life when it is somewhat acceptable. I don't know if I am cut out for the crazy job that Motherhood is. I find myself worrying about dumb things that come with babies. Case in point:

- I do not live near family, who will babysit?
- When will I work out?
- How will I function on less than 9 hours of sleep?
- How big are my boobs going to get?
- What do you do when you're chillin out with a baby all day?
- What if I break it?
- If I don't like it can I give it away?

I also drool over every baby I see, even If I don't know them. I make all my "Mom" friends let me hold their little kids, if they don't let me I will bribe the kid with candy. I really want babies when I see a cute one.... I want to run home and jump on Jared. I feel like octomom. This is what scares me. I think I am going to try to limit my time around cute babies.

I am sure I'll come to terms with motherhood eventually. Until then I will keep extending my graduation.



I Saw Another Man's Penis

Who: Me and a 20-something year old with problems
What: A flashing of his manhood
When: Fall Semester 2005
Where: All alone on Trax
Why: I wish I knew

My driver's license was suspended again (more on my shady driving record later) and I was forced to ride Salt Lake City's public transit system, Trax. I was catching a ride on my way home from the University of Utah when a young pervert joined me in the otherwise empty train. He looked normal enough. I thought it was a little weird that he sat directly across from me, but I just continued fishing around in my backpack for my Walkman (I was not cool enough for an Ipod.) You know how you can sense if someone is staring at you? Well, I did. I looked up and saw his penis hanging out of his zipper... balls and all. I quickly looked back down. I was sure I was imagining it. I had to be, people just don't squish their peens out the zipper hole for no reason.... right? WRONG! I am no peniologist. I had to look back up and make sure my eyes were not playing tricks. Sure enough, Herbert (the pervert) had his package cradled in his lap and on display. He began playing with it. Nasty, Nasty, Nasty.... but my head wouldn't look away. I kept trying to but my head could not wrap around the fact that some dude made a special trip on Trax just to show me his twinkles. I am sure my face was showing a mix of unbelief and horror. With my eyes on his semi-boner I began to feel enraged. I blindly reached around for my pepper spray with full intentions of squirting him square in the urethra. He must have sensed the danger. He jumped up and out of the train and ran down an alley with his testicles flapping in the wind. I still couldn't believe it. I was glad him and his wiener were gone, but also sad that I didn't get to pepper spray it. I thought of reporting him to the police. A public masturbater has no right to be running around SLC showing himself to girls. As I imagined how the phone call would go:

911: Hello, this is 911 how can I help you.
emily: (voice shaky and scared) I just saw a penis
911: You just saw what?
emily: p-p-p-penis!
911: Prank calling 911 is a misdemeanor.
emily: but he had a boner!
911: Mam' I think you better lay off the drugs for awhile....

I didn't call. But I did decide to keep my pepper spray in the easy access front pocket of my bag. Considering my luck, I am sure I will be in a similar situation at some point, and I will not jeopardize my chances of spraying someone's privates ever again.

P.S. Thank you so much for all your comments here and on facebook! I love reading them and I am glad you find my blog worthy of being read making you laugh.... at least some good comes from all this messed up stuff!


Meet Chrissss

I actually work every once in a while. And when I do, it's usually at Pier One Imports. It's not so bad considering I'm making a little over minimum wage.
I work with a walking contradiction, Chris. He is a well groomed 40 year old Christian fanatic. He often recites Bible passages and warns me that Jesus is probably going to be coming pretty soon (one of the reasons he has not started a 401 k.) He does not celebrate Halloween because he will "not worship the devil."

Chris is also a very horny Gay man.... or a very Gay horny man(?). He regularly checks out the customers, using his Gaydar to see which ones bat for his team. He commends me for having a hot husband and asks if he has any Gay brothers. I say, "not yet." He loves when hot men wear silk workout shorts and prays to God that they will come to Pier One. We have a plan for when any good looking guys enter the store. I have to page "code green" over the intercom so Chris can come drool. He is against proposition 8 because he thinks Gay parents might screw a kid up. He is not shy about his gayness and realizes the inconsistency of following Jesus and loving (or making love to) other men.

Chris also has OCD. Obsessive compulsive disorder. He hates when all the candles are not in their place and secretly damns those who touch/move the merchandise. He plans out his days to the minute then thoughtfully repeats everything to me. I usually interrupt him and tell him that I don't care if he is going to put his laundry in, then watch TV church, then fold his laundry. He just keeps going. Part of his incessant energy comes from the fact that he drinks 10 cups of coffee a day, offset by CVS sleeping pills every night. He admits that his brain might be a little jumbled from 13 years of crystal meth use.
He is actually really fun to work with. Time flies by when he is running back and forth ensuring no one looks at the candles wrong. I can count on him to say messed up things that make me smile.

For example:
When putting up all the new Easter decorations- "This s**t is even too gay for me!"
About a hot guy- "I would let him rape me"
and other nasty, nasty things about men
About my religion- "You better make sure it's not of the devil" Thanks Chris. I'll double check.

Disclaimer: I asked Chris permission to write about him. He was cool with it as long as I tell you that if you know any hot gay men, please tell them to come into Pier One Imports in Camarillo, California.




Everyone I know is pregnant or has kids or wants them. I am surprised/hurt that no one comes to me for advice about kid stuff.
I am pretty much an expert on this subject since I was once a fetus and a kid, but not at the same time. After trying for a short time to get impregnated, one of my brothers and his wife became very disturbed. I offered my sage advice, "...maybe you're not using the right hole." After this, they finally succeeded. I have yet to receive a thank you card.
My older and favorite brother also snuck a bun in his wife's oven. I know it was because of my suggestion to give his wife a surprise birthday lap dance. One thing led to another.

With two of my brother's wives expecting, Mom has taken it upon herself to harass me into getting pregnant. Last time I checked, sperm was what got a girl pregnant, not harassment. But I love Mom, so I allow her to do this. Today, for my own entertainment purposes, I decided to make Mom really happy.

I sent her an email with the subject line: Surprise! Ultrasound Pics!

then included one-
I bet she cant wait!



You have been named online porn capital of the USA!

Who knew that my home state was capable of such an arduous task. I know, without the hard work of many upstanding Utahans, we would have never been able to obtain this award. It is inspirational to think about how many of you gave up booze, pot, wife-beating, etc. and went straight for the hard core porn. Way to set a goal and reach for it.

I moved to California in hopes of finding someplace vile and rife with sin. A place I could call home. Now I realize my mistake. See you soon Utah!

All hail the Porn Czar!

(family of porn-looker-at-ers.)

Is this really what Utah has come to? I know for a fact that there is great snowboarding, mountain biking and plenty of lakes. All of which are more fun than porn.... to most people.


UPDATE 3/6/09: My dirty liberal friend Heather just informed me that she is the cause of all the downloaded porn. She is even doing it right now.


Crime and Punishment part I

I think a new social contract is in order.

crime: an ugly girl wears slutty clothes in public
punishment: she must clean up litter along the highway for littering our minds

crime: pretty girl wears slutty clothes in public

punishment: any guys should be able to stare at her junk all they want and pretty girl can't act offended

c: leaving a log in a public toilet

p: offender must fish it out with bare hand and admit the loaf was theirs. (Why do people do this? Flushing is not that big of hassle...)

c: guys in the gym who lifting their shirt and scratching their stomach because they think everyone wants to see their abs
p: punch in the crotch.

c: answering all the Professor's questions in class
p: karate chop to the throat.

c: parking your basket in the middle of a grocery store isle
p: whoever you blocked gets to kick over either you or your cart, their choice.

c: leaving your whiny kids in the car while you shop
p: an awesome award.

c: talking on your phone, giggling like a drunk girl, or tapping on anything in the library
p: kicked out and a punch in the crotch.

c: driving like a moron
p: punch in the crotch.

Looking at this, I think that more often than not, punching all offenders in the crotch is the answer to all societies problems.... If I knew that next time I drove like an idiot I would get a crotch punch, I would defiantly think twice about it.

Dr. Laura would be proud. :(