For the record, I am not getting married in three weeks.
That was simply a ruse to a) mock the silly chain-blogging thing and b) make me feel better about myself, because seeing the words "I'm getting married" typed made me believe that it actually might happen someday. KIDDING!
Today was fun.... 'twas a day spent in Westphalia with lots of Schmitz's, delish food, and lots of memorable times spent down on the farm. Our family Christmas party was originally supposed to be on the 17th, but because my Aunt Linda was so sick, we had to postpone it until today. I think I have to be the luckiest girl alive to be born into a huge family like mine... they're loud, quirky, German to the core, and the sweetest, most down-to-earth people you could ever hope to meet. They make me happier than a bunch of kids chasing a leaky cow.
Anyway, I'm positively exhausted and Scrubs isn't on tonite so I'm going to read and actually hit the hay early. EARLY, as in 1:00 am. Goodness, for the love of Oprah, when did that happen? How I miss the days of going to bed at 4:30 am like I was doing earlier this fall... I was never more engergetic and enthusiastic about life!
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Golly gee damn
Ohh Rye-Bread, I completely agree with you in this "tag blogging" extravanganza that someone from the CCM realm started (Bridge, was that you!?) and we all feel compelled to complete. I was going to "accidently overlook" the fact that everyone else did it and just go about my merry blogging way, but because Ryan did point out that we all will be living together in Chi-town for three straight days (in ONE WEEK!), I'm going to avoid any ostracization and get this over with.
Three things I got for Christmas:
1. A dashing man (P.S., I'm getting married in three weeks.)
2. A spankin' new truck (A black 2007 Chevy Silverado 1500 to be precise.)
3. An all-expense paid trip to Europe (Schweizer Alpen, komme ich her!)
Three things I wouldn't want for Christmas:
1. Any sort of animal/pet/living creature (With the exception of a herd of cows.)
2. A cell phone (I hate mine with a fiery passion and am tempted to throw it against the wall on multiple occasions, when I'm not ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist).
3. A trip to Florida (The most volatile, boring state in the entire U.S.)
There you have it! In all reality, I did have a positively delightful Christmas with all the normal, regular, humble toys from Santa Claus (Claus... Klause... is that German?)... DVDs, books, games, clothes, lots of "You live in the U.P. so you must be freezing all the time" scarves, slipper socks, union suits, ect. 'Twas a delightful Christmas. Despite the fact that it was December 25th in Michigan and it was warm enough to um... okay, not snow. My Dimaggio-streak of not being able to say anything remotely witty is really kicking in tonight.
On a side note, I positively LOVE the show Scrubs. I might love it more than I love Amish people. It is the goofiest and most hilarious TV show in existence... I'm currently watching it at the moment and I just had 4 laughing attacks in the span of 30 minutes, and I always wonder what my brother is thinking when he hears me laughing through the wall in the middle of the cotton pickin' night.
I can't wait to see all of you for our big city adventure baby! Time to hit the hay... I'm off like the black on Michael Jackson.
Three things I got for Christmas:
1. A dashing man (P.S., I'm getting married in three weeks.)
2. A spankin' new truck (A black 2007 Chevy Silverado 1500 to be precise.)
3. An all-expense paid trip to Europe (Schweizer Alpen, komme ich her!)
Three things I wouldn't want for Christmas:
1. Any sort of animal/pet/living creature (With the exception of a herd of cows.)
2. A cell phone (I hate mine with a fiery passion and am tempted to throw it against the wall on multiple occasions, when I'm not ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist).
3. A trip to Florida (The most volatile, boring state in the entire U.S.)
There you have it! In all reality, I did have a positively delightful Christmas with all the normal, regular, humble toys from Santa Claus (Claus... Klause... is that German?)... DVDs, books, games, clothes, lots of "You live in the U.P. so you must be freezing all the time" scarves, slipper socks, union suits, ect. 'Twas a delightful Christmas. Despite the fact that it was December 25th in Michigan and it was warm enough to um... okay, not snow. My Dimaggio-streak of not being able to say anything remotely witty is really kicking in tonight.
On a side note, I positively LOVE the show Scrubs. I might love it more than I love Amish people. It is the goofiest and most hilarious TV show in existence... I'm currently watching it at the moment and I just had 4 laughing attacks in the span of 30 minutes, and I always wonder what my brother is thinking when he hears me laughing through the wall in the middle of the cotton pickin' night.
I can't wait to see all of you for our big city adventure baby! Time to hit the hay... I'm off like the black on Michael Jackson.
Monday, December 25, 2006
"God Bless Us! Everyone!" -Tiny Tim
I hope everyone has a beautiful and blessed Christmas... enjoy the time with your family, don't eat too much fruitcake (What IS fruitcake anyway? I swear it's nothing but a lump of dough and Skittles) and go outside and play in the snow, I mean mud. Happy and merry!
See everyone in 2007!
See everyone in 2007!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
It's ALMOST CHRISTMAS!
Heeeelllooooo my sweet ones!
I would just like to first congratulate my baby brother on his audition for High School Musical, in which he tried out for a background role and ended up winning the lead role as Troy Bolton, the wicked talented basketball star- turned Broadway-bound, shaggy-haired, Gabriella-woo'ing singing wonder of sixteen-year-olds everywhere. He is going to be like, the Donny Osmond of 2006. Sans the baby blue polyester pants. (Editor's note... to any American who has not seen this movie yet, it is imperitive that you rent it now. It is not only delightfully wholesome and entertaining, the songs are as catchy as bubble gum in shag carpet and you WILL end up singing them for three days straight. Mark my words, baby. Mark my words.)
Oh- speaking of SONGS in my head... Oh my Land o'Goshen! Yesterday I decided to retire the Christmas muzak for one day and bump and groove to another genre on the 20-minute drive to work. (20 MINUTES! Golly I miss the 10 minute, (8 if you're lucky) drive to the dairy!) ANYWAY. I put in a CD that I burned over Thanksgiving break but haven't listened to since... it's mostly Johnny Cash, but I also discovered a delightfully PLEASANT song called the 1913 Massacre tucked in between slightly happier songs on the CD, courtesy of folk singer Woodie Guthry. And if anyone knows Emily, you know already that this song isn't just about any old massacre in 1913... it's about the ITALIAN HALL DISASTER in CALUMET, MICHIGAN. (God Bless their dear souls.)
THE U.P.! It's about the Upper Peninsula. As in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. AS IN MY HOME! Good ol' Woodie... singing and plucking his guitar strings along to lyrics about our Finnish and Italian and immigrant friends gone before us right here in our homeland... it's so dreadfully depressing but so strangely intriguing too! And as sick as THIS is, I was humming along to that song all pecking day long! I mean, really. It's not really a light, happy, pleasing "la la la" song you want to be pleasantly singing under your breath all day, but it like, got the best of me. No, I didn't shed tears, but golly gee, you can't help but REFLECT ya know? The following is a real scenario that took place at the Cracker Barrel in Brighton, Michigan:
Em, happily wrapping Woolrich slippers for a middle-aged man: "Taaaaake a trip with meeee to 1913... to Caaaaalumet, Michigan, in the Coppeeeeer Country... I'll take you to a place called Italian Haaaaaaaalll.... where the MiIIIIIIners are having their big Christmas baaaall..."
Middle Aged Man: "Dear, what ARE you singing?"
Em: "The 1913 Massacre. Do you know it?"
Middle Aged Man, smile disappearing from his dear sweet face: "Massacre? Oh, um, no. I can't say that I do."
Em: "Very well... I guess it's a Yooper thing. 'You'll ask about copper, you'll ask about pay.... they'll tell you they make less than a DOLLAR a daaaaay....'"
As it turns out, not only did my middle aged friend get his Woolrich slippers wrapped for the very low cost of NOTHING, he walked out that day with a very valuable history lesson about the state of Michigan and the U.P. happenings of 1913. And I am sure that, my friends, was the real highlight of his day. I just hope he comes back. Which he probably won't.
Hey, remember that Christmas movie with the Olsen twins called "To Grandmother's House We Go?" Circa 1992, starring the pre-anorexia, pre-bad clothes, pre-bad movies Olsen twins we used to know and think were adorable? Yeah, that's the one. I bought that last year and still haven't watched it, and I'm trying to pace myself at one Christmas movie a day. Yesterday was Home Alone, the day before was Three Days, the day BEFORE was The Santa Clause, and the day before that was Prancer. I have ummm, four days till Christmas and oodles of classics to watch still, i.e. Elf, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (The one and only CLAYMATION version of course!) Christmas Eve on Sesame Street (Ummm.... I really like when they ice skate and I LOVE when Ernie sells his rubber ducky to buy Bert a box for his paper clip chain okay?!) and A Very Brady Christmas, where Mike Brady gets trapped in a construction site and Carol and the kids have to sing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" for him to gain enough courage and energy to break free! Ohh, those Brady's. They get me every time. It's a tear-jerker, lemme tell ya! Ha ha ha
All right, this girl's gotta hit the hay... hopefully with visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Happy and merry!
I would just like to first congratulate my baby brother on his audition for High School Musical, in which he tried out for a background role and ended up winning the lead role as Troy Bolton, the wicked talented basketball star- turned Broadway-bound, shaggy-haired, Gabriella-woo'ing singing wonder of sixteen-year-olds everywhere. He is going to be like, the Donny Osmond of 2006. Sans the baby blue polyester pants. (Editor's note... to any American who has not seen this movie yet, it is imperitive that you rent it now. It is not only delightfully wholesome and entertaining, the songs are as catchy as bubble gum in shag carpet and you WILL end up singing them for three days straight. Mark my words, baby. Mark my words.)
Oh- speaking of SONGS in my head... Oh my Land o'Goshen! Yesterday I decided to retire the Christmas muzak for one day and bump and groove to another genre on the 20-minute drive to work. (20 MINUTES! Golly I miss the 10 minute, (8 if you're lucky) drive to the dairy!) ANYWAY. I put in a CD that I burned over Thanksgiving break but haven't listened to since... it's mostly Johnny Cash, but I also discovered a delightfully PLEASANT song called the 1913 Massacre tucked in between slightly happier songs on the CD, courtesy of folk singer Woodie Guthry. And if anyone knows Emily, you know already that this song isn't just about any old massacre in 1913... it's about the ITALIAN HALL DISASTER in CALUMET, MICHIGAN. (God Bless their dear souls.)
THE U.P.! It's about the Upper Peninsula. As in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. AS IN MY HOME! Good ol' Woodie... singing and plucking his guitar strings along to lyrics about our Finnish and Italian and immigrant friends gone before us right here in our homeland... it's so dreadfully depressing but so strangely intriguing too! And as sick as THIS is, I was humming along to that song all pecking day long! I mean, really. It's not really a light, happy, pleasing "la la la" song you want to be pleasantly singing under your breath all day, but it like, got the best of me. No, I didn't shed tears, but golly gee, you can't help but REFLECT ya know? The following is a real scenario that took place at the Cracker Barrel in Brighton, Michigan:
Em, happily wrapping Woolrich slippers for a middle-aged man: "Taaaaake a trip with meeee to 1913... to Caaaaalumet, Michigan, in the Coppeeeeer Country... I'll take you to a place called Italian Haaaaaaaalll.... where the MiIIIIIIners are having their big Christmas baaaall..."
Middle Aged Man: "Dear, what ARE you singing?"
Em: "The 1913 Massacre. Do you know it?"
Middle Aged Man, smile disappearing from his dear sweet face: "Massacre? Oh, um, no. I can't say that I do."
Em: "Very well... I guess it's a Yooper thing. 'You'll ask about copper, you'll ask about pay.... they'll tell you they make less than a DOLLAR a daaaaay....'"
As it turns out, not only did my middle aged friend get his Woolrich slippers wrapped for the very low cost of NOTHING, he walked out that day with a very valuable history lesson about the state of Michigan and the U.P. happenings of 1913. And I am sure that, my friends, was the real highlight of his day. I just hope he comes back. Which he probably won't.
Hey, remember that Christmas movie with the Olsen twins called "To Grandmother's House We Go?" Circa 1992, starring the pre-anorexia, pre-bad clothes, pre-bad movies Olsen twins we used to know and think were adorable? Yeah, that's the one. I bought that last year and still haven't watched it, and I'm trying to pace myself at one Christmas movie a day. Yesterday was Home Alone, the day before was Three Days, the day BEFORE was The Santa Clause, and the day before that was Prancer. I have ummm, four days till Christmas and oodles of classics to watch still, i.e. Elf, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (The one and only CLAYMATION version of course!) Christmas Eve on Sesame Street (Ummm.... I really like when they ice skate and I LOVE when Ernie sells his rubber ducky to buy Bert a box for his paper clip chain okay?!) and A Very Brady Christmas, where Mike Brady gets trapped in a construction site and Carol and the kids have to sing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" for him to gain enough courage and energy to break free! Ohh, those Brady's. They get me every time. It's a tear-jerker, lemme tell ya! Ha ha ha
All right, this girl's gotta hit the hay... hopefully with visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Happy and merry!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Ladies and gents... Em has Blogspot!
Well goodness gracious, I hope this works.
I gave up on stupid Blogspot this summer when it refused to save my new posts, hence me resorting to Blogspirit (which now requires members to pay a minimum balance of a million dollars to get any special features whatsoever). But because Blogspot is a wicked fun theme running through CCM, I'm hopping aboard baby.
While last week was traumatic, Em (is there a reason I randomly refer to myself in the third person sometimes? Is there?) is now feeling 10000% better, thanks to three things: 1) HEAT in my apartment 2) My wicked silly friends in CCM who made me feel better while squeezing between a zillion hungry Catholics at yesterday's Thanksgiving dinner, and 3) THANKSGIVING VACA. Believe me, this trip down to Fowlerville tomorrow is the best thing that could have happened to me at this point in the semester... no math ulcers, no living at the LRC, and no more caffiene buzzes from too much Dew at 8:00 am for moi this week. Life will be swell. I can't wait to sleep in my own wicked cozy bed, watch home vids circa 1988 with my fam, and gobble up my mom and dad's DELISH cooking. I.E, that means no living on Blue's Clues macaroni and cheese or chicken noodle soup this week.... what an epiphany!
I'm downloading Christmas muzak for the ride home, and I am announcing now, I WILL listen to 7 straight hours of it tomorrow. 'Tis going to be an exciting ride home, lemme tell you. Rose is in for a real treat! I'm also burning a CD of nothing but S Club 7 songs (Hello 1998) and another of nothing but Disney songs... ohhh yeah. We're going to be bumping and jamming and it's the best thing you can do when you have to drive 55 mph for three hours and cross the wicked scary Mackinac Bridge. AND it's getting windy... I can hear the trees out side all a-rustle. I'd rather stab myself in the colon with a salad fork than cross that bridge when it's the LEAST bit windy outside. Pray for us!
Well this girl has to be up and at 'em in exactly 6 hours... I better Dew/Diet Coke it up before hitting the open road in a crabby/tired/uncaffeinated state. I hope everyone has a charming Thanksgiving and I'll see you all with bells on when we return!
I gave up on stupid Blogspot this summer when it refused to save my new posts, hence me resorting to Blogspirit (which now requires members to pay a minimum balance of a million dollars to get any special features whatsoever). But because Blogspot is a wicked fun theme running through CCM, I'm hopping aboard baby.
While last week was traumatic, Em (is there a reason I randomly refer to myself in the third person sometimes? Is there?) is now feeling 10000% better, thanks to three things: 1) HEAT in my apartment 2) My wicked silly friends in CCM who made me feel better while squeezing between a zillion hungry Catholics at yesterday's Thanksgiving dinner, and 3) THANKSGIVING VACA. Believe me, this trip down to Fowlerville tomorrow is the best thing that could have happened to me at this point in the semester... no math ulcers, no living at the LRC, and no more caffiene buzzes from too much Dew at 8:00 am for moi this week. Life will be swell. I can't wait to sleep in my own wicked cozy bed, watch home vids circa 1988 with my fam, and gobble up my mom and dad's DELISH cooking. I.E, that means no living on Blue's Clues macaroni and cheese or chicken noodle soup this week.... what an epiphany!
I'm downloading Christmas muzak for the ride home, and I am announcing now, I WILL listen to 7 straight hours of it tomorrow. 'Tis going to be an exciting ride home, lemme tell you. Rose is in for a real treat! I'm also burning a CD of nothing but S Club 7 songs (Hello 1998) and another of nothing but Disney songs... ohhh yeah. We're going to be bumping and jamming and it's the best thing you can do when you have to drive 55 mph for three hours and cross the wicked scary Mackinac Bridge. AND it's getting windy... I can hear the trees out side all a-rustle. I'd rather stab myself in the colon with a salad fork than cross that bridge when it's the LEAST bit windy outside. Pray for us!
Well this girl has to be up and at 'em in exactly 6 hours... I better Dew/Diet Coke it up before hitting the open road in a crabby/tired/uncaffeinated state. I hope everyone has a charming Thanksgiving and I'll see you all with bells on when we return!
Transferring to New Blog 1... 2... 3!
Dear God in heaven, this has been quite the traumatic week.
But you know what? I'm not going to go into it. I don't care about furnace explosions, 7-page paper disappearances, men, math ulcers, lack of heat, bleeding thumbnails, or PMS. I. don't. care.See, I like happiness. I'm a happy person. I like life, babies, old people, and puppies. You can't go wrong with those things. I tried making a list of everything that I loved one day on one of those long yellow notepads, and I filled up 8 pages, front and back. So I'm not worried about you know, becoming a depressed emo-screamo kid or anything like that. But then I have a week like this one and suddenly I can think of only two things that I like about life... chocolate and Shop-ko. Oh, and CHRISTMAS junk at Shop-ko is a double whammy... HELLO life completion. Oh, and maybe Robert Redford, circa 1973. (EDITORS NOTE: Everybody needs to rent "The Way We Were" and you will know why Robert Redford is a shoe-in for bad days/weeks. De-lish. I'd make out with a bag of Fritos if it looked like him. And p.s.--- you WILL, against all odds, become a Barbara Streisand fan after watching that movie as well. Boys, you too. I won't tell.)
Anyways. I realized how long its been since I've updated this thing and now I really want to get back in the swing of things. AND I have to finish my Amish life story! Goodness... that should have been done wicked ages ago. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, ya know, simplicity. Especially on Tuesday morning when my IBM Thinkpad was THISCLOSE to shattering into a million little pieces when I wanted to desperately chuck it down the stairs in a fit of fuming rage. And then I thought, well why not throw my evil-spawn cell phone down with it... no cell, no laptop, no life and brain-cell wasting on Facebook, AIM, ect... life would be positively the most beautiful place on earth. I like WANT to be Laura Ingalls Wilder at this point in my life, let's saaaay, circa 1844. Talk about perfect! I mean, really. My life would be so complete. I would trade in my worldly-Fowlerville-sophistication into a petticoat-wearing, bonnet-sporting, fire-hearth sweeping, fiddle-playing, Indian-fighting, quilting-beeing, baby-making hero of the nineteenth century. I'd live in a log cabin deep in the backwoods of the Upper Peninsula where we would outhouse it and shoot prarie dogs and chew on blades of grass and make our own soap out of pig's lard and call our kids names like Inger, Lars, and Ivar, and Sven. Maybe Duncan too. I think that name is so pecking cute.Lordy lordy look who has to go on with her life as a stupid 21-year-old living in the stupid 21st century... I got screwed over in this being-born-in-1985 business. I'll be back! I'm out like a Mormon at a Pepsi convention.
But you know what? I'm not going to go into it. I don't care about furnace explosions, 7-page paper disappearances, men, math ulcers, lack of heat, bleeding thumbnails, or PMS. I. don't. care.See, I like happiness. I'm a happy person. I like life, babies, old people, and puppies. You can't go wrong with those things. I tried making a list of everything that I loved one day on one of those long yellow notepads, and I filled up 8 pages, front and back. So I'm not worried about you know, becoming a depressed emo-screamo kid or anything like that. But then I have a week like this one and suddenly I can think of only two things that I like about life... chocolate and Shop-ko. Oh, and CHRISTMAS junk at Shop-ko is a double whammy... HELLO life completion. Oh, and maybe Robert Redford, circa 1973. (EDITORS NOTE: Everybody needs to rent "The Way We Were" and you will know why Robert Redford is a shoe-in for bad days/weeks. De-lish. I'd make out with a bag of Fritos if it looked like him. And p.s.--- you WILL, against all odds, become a Barbara Streisand fan after watching that movie as well. Boys, you too. I won't tell.)
Anyways. I realized how long its been since I've updated this thing and now I really want to get back in the swing of things. AND I have to finish my Amish life story! Goodness... that should have been done wicked ages ago. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, ya know, simplicity. Especially on Tuesday morning when my IBM Thinkpad was THISCLOSE to shattering into a million little pieces when I wanted to desperately chuck it down the stairs in a fit of fuming rage. And then I thought, well why not throw my evil-spawn cell phone down with it... no cell, no laptop, no life and brain-cell wasting on Facebook, AIM, ect... life would be positively the most beautiful place on earth. I like WANT to be Laura Ingalls Wilder at this point in my life, let's saaaay, circa 1844. Talk about perfect! I mean, really. My life would be so complete. I would trade in my worldly-Fowlerville-sophistication into a petticoat-wearing, bonnet-sporting, fire-hearth sweeping, fiddle-playing, Indian-fighting, quilting-beeing, baby-making hero of the nineteenth century. I'd live in a log cabin deep in the backwoods of the Upper Peninsula where we would outhouse it and shoot prarie dogs and chew on blades of grass and make our own soap out of pig's lard and call our kids names like Inger, Lars, and Ivar, and Sven. Maybe Duncan too. I think that name is so pecking cute.Lordy lordy look who has to go on with her life as a stupid 21-year-old living in the stupid 21st century... I got screwed over in this being-born-in-1985 business. I'll be back! I'm out like a Mormon at a Pepsi convention.
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