I’d be great at fighting crime. If my face was crime.

So Monday was a weird day.

I had gone to bed on Sunday night with a little bit of a migraine, not the worst of its kind, but still not awesome. It was one of those migraines that is dull enough to not ruin your day, but present enough to make you want to punch yourself in the face just to give the pain some validity.

Which is exactly what I did. I punched myself in the face.

Not on purpose. Sort of.

I was sleeping, and my migraine must have strutted into my dreams and was all “HEY! EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE SLEEPING, YOU SHOULD STILL BE VERY AWARE THAT I AM HERE. I’M GONNA MAKE MYSELF A SANDWICH, K? IS THAT COOL? NO? TOO BAD. I’M DOING IT. HEY, EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE SLEEPING, I’M GONNA MAKE MYSELF THIS SANDWICH, AND WHILE I MAKE IT, I’M GOING TO SLAM EVERY CABINET DOOR – EVEN THE ONES I DON’T NEED TO OPEN IN THE FIRST PLACE – JUST BECAUSE I DON’T WANT YOU TO FORGET ABOUT ME.”

In a way, I feel bad for Migraine. This is obviously just a cry for attention because he never got enough hugs as a baby migraine. Perhaps if I just accepted Migraine for who he was, we wouldn’t be in this situation at all… huh.

Either way, I didn’t accept Migraine, so he was being a douche and because he was being a douche, I decided, in my dreamy state of defense, to punch him in the face.

Turns out that his face is my face.I'D BE GREAT AT FIGHTING CRIME......IF

I woke up just in time to realize that my own fist was rocketing toward my face, but without enough time to do anything about it.

Obviously, I texted my bestbian, who calls herself “John Hamm” on this blog, about this situation:

Me: I punched myself in the face while I was sleeping last night.

JH: …what?

Me: Yup. Right in the eyeball.

JH: How do you know? Do you have a black eye?

Me: No, thank God, but I woke up when it happened.

JH: Omg I’m trying so hard not to laugh.

She loves me.

You’d think this is where the story ends. One would obviously assume that this is the only bad thing that someone’s face would endure in one day.

So let’s fast-forward to the end of the day, when I get home from work early because Snowmageddon2015 was about to hit Connecticut.

Monday was trash day, conveniently enough, so I got out of my car and thought to myself “Gee, I should probably bring in the trash can and the recycling bin so that they don’t get buried in the snow at the end of the driveway…” and then I high-fived myself for being a responsible, forward-thinking adult and headed down the driveway to retrieve said trash can and recycling bin.

It is important to note here that my driveway is at an incline and I was wearing impractical footwear.

So, I’m dragging the trash can behind me, through the already sort of deep snow, and I’ve got the recycling bin in front of me as I limp-scoot my way up the hill towards the house.

Me: I slipped bringing in the trash cans and bashed my chin on the recycling bin. This has not been a good day for my face.

JH: Oh my gosh, just go inside and put on padding.

Me: There are so many corners in here!!

JH: We’re gonna have to child proof your apartment.

 

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Humphrey.

So I was sitting in my living room, drinking my coffee and reading the paper the other morning when all of a sudden I heard a big BANG and a CRASH above my head.

Humphrey was rearranging.

Humphrey is my mysterious upstairs tenant. I don’t know what he is, but he lives in my attic and I have never seen him. He is definitely bigger than a mouse, but smaller than The Hulk.

Every now and again I hear him doing things up there and I think “I should go up there and investigate to figure out what he is,” but then I open my attic door and I start going up the stairs and suddenly everything gets very quiet  and all these images of a rabid opossum lunging at my face start going through my head so I turn around and go back downstairs, leaving Humphrey to live in peace. Let’s be honest here, people: Is there anything creepier than an opossum’s face coming at you from the dark?

Answer: No. No there is not.

I’ve decided that Humphrey is one of the following:

  1. A squirrel. He definitely runs around a lot and when he knocked over whatever he knocked over the other day, he ran laps around the attic for about half an hour in a panic. Also, I live out in the woods, so squirrels are in good supply around here. It’s the most logical answer if you’re into that sort of thing. He could also be a raccoon. Both of these options are adorable.
  2. A boggart. Humphrey never sounds like he’s just one size. Some days he sounds little, and on those days, Humphrey tends to hang out in the walls. Other days I can hear each individual footstep as he walks around the space above my bedroom. Either way, I’m sort of pissed that I still don’t have a wand because when it comes to boggarts, you really need a wand. Add this to list of reasons I need to go to Harry Potter World.
  3. The Weasley Family Ghoul’s Cousin. Obviously I’m not silly enough to think that The Weasley Family Ghoul moved from the Burrow to come live in my attic. That would be a ridiculous assumption. Maybe he has a cousin who did, though, right? I mean, this would make sense. Just like the Weasleys, I don’t think of Humphrey as a pest, but more as a pet at this point. I call up to him when he’s being to loud, or when things fall over, I shout “Are you okay, Humphrey?” and then he moves around a bit as if to be like “Yeah, I’m good, thanks!” Humphrey and I have excellent communication skills.

Whatever Humphrey may be, I have come to love him and the idea of him leaving my house feels very sad. Also, I’m sort of too terrified of him to try and kick him out. See photo above.

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Texting and the art of The Woo

Last night, I received this text from my friend, who for privacy reasons we will call “Sara”:

The guy I went out with CALLED and LEFT A MESSAGE to ask me out for a second date. Why has this never happened before?

And my immediate response was something along the lines of “Yes. I am also shocked by this gesture and I wholeheartedly approve of his effortful actions.” (Sidenote: I just accidentally found out that “effortful” is a word.) and then I was so quickly overcome by the thought “WAIT THIS SHOULD NOT BE A SHOCKING THING” that I was prompted to text her that exact statement around 4am her time because I care.

I know that living in the tiny cell phone-serviceless (not a real word, apparently, but I tried) area that I live in has only reinforced my traditional and seemingly old-fashioned ways, but I think a phone call should not be that weird, especially when it comes to the art of The Woo.

Don’t get me wrong, I love texting. I’m hysterical via text and I appreciate it as a medium of communication (I’m a millennial after all), but I think that texting is something one should only really use in certain situations:

  1. With your close friends. Your best friend or other close friends know your tone. They can read your subtle sarcasms. They get you enough to know that when you text things like, “That sounds like a great idea.” what you really mean is, “What the actual fuck are you thinking?” After a first date, however, a guy could text me and say “Great time! Want to meet up next week?” and when I respond with a simple “K.” I really run the risk that he won’t know that what I really mean is “You are super boring and my enthusiasm is the equivalent of this one letter, so no…” See? This is why one should always call.
  2. Quick messages and updates. These include messages such as “I’m running late! Be there in five minutes!” or “The dog just puked in the toilet! Today is amazing!”
  3. When updating your friend about current awkward situations: “This guy on the bus is literally trying to lick his own elbow right now.” …… “Oh God… he just looked at me and smiled.” ……. “It’s official. This is what I’m attracting: Elbow-licking loners on busses. It’s time to reevaluate my life.” ….. “Why aren’t you responding to me?” ……. “UPDATE: ELBOW-LICKER HAS SWITCHED SEATS AND IS NOW NEXT TO ME. THIS MAY BE THE LAST MESSAGE I EVER SEND. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I LOVE Y–” …………………….. “Really? Nothing? Do you not even care about my safety?” And other things like that until your friend finally responds with “I knew you could get through this on your own, that’s why I didn’t respond. That and I was in a meeting because I have a real job, so thanks for blowing up my phone and making my boss glare at me. Also, I knew you were lying towards the end because you wouldn’t have been able to text me if he really was sitting next to you, so you deserved what you got.”

When it comes to The Woo, however, a text just isn’t romantic, no matter how many emogis you use. There is something about being able to pick up your phone and hear a guy sound nervous or excited to ask you if you enjoyed your time with him as much as he enjoyed his time with you during that weird debate over the finale of Battlestar Galactica and whether or not Adama and Tigh should have had a parting ways scene (SERIOUSLY, THERE WAS ZERO CLOSURE THERE AND THEY WERE BESTIES). And then you can do that super cute thing where you just keep listening to the voicemail over and over again and being all “D’aww… he likes me…” Like Lorelai and Max Medina. (Yes, I did just made a BSG reference and a Gilmore Girls reference in one paragraph.)

Not to mention, you can be fairly confident that he didn’t reach out to  you from the toilet or something. With a text, you just never know.

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Another flattering moment with my mother.

The other night, I was just sitting at home, feeling good about myself, drinking tea, and reading a book. It was perfect.

I felt my phone buzz and looked down to see that my mother had texted me:

Mom: I have a very important and honorable assignment for you.

Me: Okay…

Mom: It doesn’t look like your brother will be coming home for Christmas. Would you please be Santa for the kids?

Me: None of the guys want to play Santa? (It is important to note here that I have two brothers-in-law and a father who will all be home for Christmas)

Mom: I haven’t asked anyone else. I just think that you’d be the best to step in :)

Me: You think I’m the best choice to play an old man?

Mom: Well, don’t say it like that!

Me: Oh, I’m sorry. Gee, Mom. Stop. I’m blushing. This flattery is too much.

Mom: We are sooooo happy that you’re coming home.

Me: …..

Mom: And you’re the best actress in the family.

Me: Are you trying to butter me up?

Mom: Is it working?

Me: No.

So… I’m super excited about this Christmas, you guys. I’m gonna be the best Santa ever.

 

UPDATE: Neighbor boy agreed to play Santa and I was allowed to maintain some fragment of what dignity I have left. This is probably for the best seeing as how the chances of me screwing this up and revealing that I’m not the real Santa and therefore crushing my nieces’ and nephew’s hopes and dreams, which would only result in my banishment from the family were pretty high. I was only sort of drunk, but to be fair, so was Santa.

 

***

In other news, there’s a new Page Break episode. Cole and I came up with our Top 14 Books of 2014! Check it out!

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Everything could be terrible. I wouldn’t know.

My family has a weird way of dealing with crises on various levels. Correction: My parents have a weird way of dealing with crises on various levels. My siblings seem to do just fine with this sort of stuff. Allow me to explain.

Example #1: 

A text I received from my father at 4:30AM on Thanksgiving morning: IMG_2635

This was something that could not wait until the normal hours of the morning. No. I needed to be woken up from my deep pre-thanksgiving slumber for CHAIRS. This type of emergency is not something you fuck around with and wait to alert someone about. Chairs are very important. Middle-of-the-night important.

This brings me to Example #2:

A phone call I received from my father about a week after Thanksgiving around 8:30 in the evening:

A quick note, my father has a very thick and sort of angry sounding Swedish accent, so when you read his part, try and imagine that in your head. 

Me: Hello?

strange pause followed by loud crowd noises in the background

Me: Hello?

Dad: Hello?

Me: Dad?

Dad: Are you there? I can barely hear you!

Me: I think that might be because of wherever you are. Where are you?

Dad: I’m out!

Me: Oh, sure.

Dad: How are you?

Me: Fine… you?

Dad: I’m good. So listen, I’m calling because I need to talk to you about something, but before I tell you, you need to know that everything is fine and that you don’t need to worry, so don’t freak out, okay?

Me: That’s a terrible way to keep someone calm.

Dad: Your mom is in the emergency room and she’s been there for about four days, okay?

Me: WHAT?

Dad: EVERYTHING IS FINE.

Me: What happened?

Dad: Well, last week when we were still in New York, we were walking around and having a nice time and then Mom got really dizzy all of sudden and almost passed out… So then we came back to Ohio –

Me: -You traveled? 

Dad: Let me finish! We came back to Ohio and she still didn’t feel good, so I took her to the hospital and it turns out she had some scar tissue in a vein and it was causing a blockage, blah blah blah, but everything is fine and she’s okay, okay?

Me: Um… okay?

Dad: And we didn’t tell you guys because we didn’t want you to worry because everything is okay.

Me: Yes, but everything was not okay four days ago…

Dad: I know! That’s why we didn’t tell you until just now.

Me: But what if everything wasn’t going to be okay? How long would you have waited to tell me? What if things were really bad and then you just kept waiting to tell me if or when everything was okay? This seems like a terrible system.

Dad: Emelie, EVERYTHING IS FINE.

Me: I know, but –

Dad: – Don’t worry about it. There’s something else I need to talk to you about.

Me: Oh God, what now? Is the dog okay? Are you okay?!?

Dad: There’s a book that I want you to look into getting for me.

Me: …oh, sure.

 

So everything really is okay. I talked to my mom, who found this entire story to be incredibly amusing, and apparently she just needs to take aspirin every day or something and that solves all her problems? I don’t really know, but I’ve been assured that everything is okay and I am not to freak out, although now I know I can’t trust my parents, which I told them over and over again after this whole debacle concluded. They think that’s just adorable.

 

In other news, my giveaway ends in just four days, so you should get on that, because you deserve a free shirt.

 

Also, new Page Break episodes. Go check those out.

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Get ready. This is a Nerd Style Giveaway.

So, it’s no secret that I’m a bit of a nerd. My staircase is decorated like a game of Space Invaders and I have Undesirable #1 Wanted posters from Harry Potter hanging up in my living room. My books are stacked everywhere and my TARDIS blanket keeps me warm during my Netflix marathons.

And I wear this nerdiness with extreme pride. I don’t leave it at home for people to discover, should they ever come over. In fact, I take it to the work place. I usually walk around with my TARDIS to-go coffee mug and sporting my Gryffindor scarf in the cold weather. (When I was a kid, I wore The One Ring on a chain around my neck because I obviously was just passing through class on my way to Mordor.) All the while, though, I try and keep my nerdiness trendy and stylish so that if you didn’t know what the reference was, it wouldn’t be distracting or take away from the professionalism that I also need to maintain in the workplace.

This is why I was really excited when I was approached by JordanDene to do a review and giveaway. This shop creates some of the most gorgeous items to wear that will keep you feeling both stylish and like a true fan throughout your day. They’re shirts that you can dress up or down. For example, this is how I wore my Harry Potter shirt to work the other day:

IMG_2549

IMG_2550

 

This shirt is absolutely amazing. The fabric is so soft, and yes, I’ve washed it a few times now, and it has maintained its shape and feel. I love how it fits because it doesn’t make me feel like I’m showcasing my body, but it also doesn’t make me feel like I’m hiding anything either, which is the perfect balance, in my humble opinion. Even my super trendy, never nerdy sister approved of this outfit and she basically looks like she’s always walking out of a Calvin Klein ad, so… woohoo!

Anyway, enough of my yammering because here is where the fun begins! I GET TO GIVE ONE OF YOU LUCKY FOLKS A FREE SHIRT OF YOUR CHOOSING FROM THE JORDANDENE STORE! (See, this is why it’s important that you stick with me).

Normally when I see these giveaways, the giver is asking for you to follow them on every single social media platform in existence. I’m not going to do that because I believe that if you’re following me, it’s because you want to be, and not because I teased you with free merch.

SO, instead of that, I’m going to ask you to have some fun with this. Send me a photo that shows how you let your Nerd flag fly in the workplace. You can do this using any ONE of your preferred social media platforms (ONLY ONE ENTRY PER PERSON). Just tag me (links to my profiles are at the top of the right sidebar) and use the hashtag #NerdyWorkPlace and I’ll pick my favorite to WIN A FREE SHIRT FROM JORDANDENE. If you enter at all, you will get a discount code to use at the Jordan Dene shop, too, so there’s really no downside to this.

This is especially fantastic if you have to do any holiday shopping for your friends who are also nerds. Just saying.

This contest ends at 11:59PM EST on December 15th, 2014.

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My friends think quite highly of me. Obviously.

A conversation I just had with a friend who we will call “Turtles McGee”:

Me: Is it weird if I go see Rosewater by myself?

Turtles McGee: I think that’d be pretty cool.

Me: Except my theater isn’t playing it. :(

Turtles McGee: Well…it’d be weird to sit in the movie theatre alone pretending you’re watching Rosewater.

Me: Um… that would be awesome. Let’s be real. You know you would want to know more about that person.

Turtles McGee: I’d want to know what they thought of Rosewater…. and yeah, I’d probably get a cup of coffee with them.

Me: I’m just picturing myself sitting in an empty theater, staring at the blank screen for 2 hours and going through a wide range of emotions while eating popcorn.

Turtles McGee: That…actually sounds pretty standard for you.

***

In other news… there’s a new Page Break episode. Watch it here:

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NaNoWriMo Begins!

I’ve attempted NaNoWriMo in the past and failed. Maybe failed is the harsh term, but either way, I’ve never actually completed a novel. I’ve been working on the same book for the past few years on and off and I’m so ready to complete it. I don’t want to be done with it in the sense that I want to wash my hands of it or anything, but I’m sick of listening to myself make excuses, so I’ve decided to do NaNoWriMo a little differently this year.

Instead of taking the 30 days to write a 50,000-word novel from start to finish, I’m going to start at word 17, 787 and go from there. I’m going to use NaNoWriMo to freaking finish my novel. It’s time to take all those notes and scraps of paper and post-its and actually apply them here and get this shit done.

It’s going to be tough. I know that. I’m not one of those writers who just bleeds words and PRESTO!: There’s a novel.

No.

I’m one of those writers who whines and cries and bangs her head against the desk and constantly texts her friends saying “I can’t do this.”

That’s the kind of writer I am.

But dammit, sometimes I even text myself back and say “YES YOU CAN! YOU’VE GOT THIS!” and then sad-me responds with “STOP TOYING WITH MY EMOTIONS AND JUST LET THIS DREAM DIE!!” and then the cool-me says “NO! KEEP GOING!” and it goes on like that for a while.

What’s my point again? Oh yeah, I’m determined to finish my novel this month and I’m using NaNoWriMo (albeit in an unconventional way, but still) to do it and I hope you’re all okay with that.

And if you aren’t, well then I’ll enjoy being a rebel in your eyes.

Are you doing NaNoWriMo? If so, leave a comment below with your NaNo name and I’ll buddy you!

Happy writing, all!

***

In other news, here’s the new Page Break episode, in which Cole does a book review of the new Garth Nix novel (yay!!) Clariel:

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My dog is kind of great at taking selfies.

Okay, so if you follow me on Instagram, you know that I have a weirdly photogenic dog. I don’t know how he does it, but he freaking knows that when the phone is pointed at him, it’s time to look fabulous. But the weirder part is that he kicks ass in the selfie department. Seriously, everyone, he has figured out the best angle and lighting for his face like no millenial ever could.

Screen Shot 2014-10-28 at 7.16.37 AM

“Road trip! Yaaaay!”

Girl, you are way to excited about this snow. I can't even.

“Girl, you are way to excited about this snow. I can’t even.”

"No, no, you just have to open your mouth a little bit and smile and it will look like a candid laughter pic. Like this!"

“No, no, you just have to open your mouth a little bit and smile and it will look like a candid laughter pic. Like this!”

And it’s not just me, you guys. He does it for John Hamm on her birthday, too:

gioleah

So fresh. So pro.

In other news…

There was a new Page Break episode, in which Cole and I suggest some pretty great Halloween reads.

Also: WE CAN NOW GO TO LONDON AND STAY IN A HARRY POTTER HOTEL AND OH MY GOSH I MUST GO NOW.

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How to Do Online Dating the Wrong Way.

So today I’m on HelloGiggles.com with a piece about how NOT to do Online Dating:

“Before I started online dating, I was really losing hope that I would ever find someone. As a 23 year old, it was ridiculous to feel that way, but I’d just gotten out of a relationship with a guy who I thought was The One and heartache makes you crazy. Shortly thereafter, but for unrelated reasons, I moved three states away to a small town where the median age is over twice my own. A friend of mine suggested I turn to the Internet. “Why not?” He said, “Everything’s online now; it only makes sense that our generation would do dating that way, too, right?”

He made a fair point.

So, I signed up. That white rabbit ran by, I followed, and boy did I fall down a long, strange and confusing hole…”

Read the full article here!!

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