The last of Hallows Eve

I promise. This is the last of the last. I will not mention punkins or 'pookiness or Halloween not one more time this year on this blog. Except to remember and reminisce about how creepy Adam's eyes were in his devil costume. Oh, and to say that I won a prize at work for my "Stepford Wife/50's Housewife" costume. No thanks to you peeps. I only got a cheek full of advice on what I should be. Y'all left me hanging. Fortunately, I'm too shallow to stay bummed for too long. Anyway, Happy Halloween and on to the next topic of conversation: T-giving!

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WWCB and other thoughts from the abiss

Here's your dinner tip for the evening: grab the phone, call the Chili's ToGo line, and pick up a couple Big Mouth Burger's in 14 minutes or less.

Now on to more important matters. These random thoughts have been banging against my scull in an effort to get out for the past week. Terribly sorry, but as the avid fans I know you are, you're just DIEING to hear anything my brain vomits out. That was gross. As my mother would say, "That was a terribly unladylike thing to say." Annnyyyywayyy, here's the musings from the mind of Emily.

1) I bought my first pair of skinny pants and wore them today. All day long, I sung in my head, "Emo girls are drowning the world in their boyfriend's blood." Because I felt Emo. Because only Emo girls and my friend Brenda wear skinny pants. Because there is a song that says those words on YouTube. Whatever.

2) I saw two of the world's worst movies this weekend. Adam and I have come to the realization that it's bad for our marriage to go to Blockbuster together. So we take turns. Saturday was my turn. I walked around the store brainlessly picking up movies that might be fun. As I rounded the corner at the drama section, I was attacked by an Aggie, marinated in Aqua Di Gio, who invited me to ride to Ogden with him in his blingin' Tahoe to go to the party of the year, nay, the century! I told him that 1) Aqua Di Gio is so 2005 and 2) I would have to check with my husband. Long story even longer, things got weird so I left the store immediately, accompanied by Leatherheads and Proof. S-T-O-O-P-I-D.

3) I have yet to kill my fish. All you losers who didn't believe in me, take that! And for all my fans who cheered me on to take State, you're all invited over for a hot pocket.

4) Adam came to me yesterday to remind me that we are just one week away from the "Christmas season". Hum, what? I thought the season started after Thanksgiving, and I told him so. In the 2 years I've been married, I have seen Adam panic but never like this. He got all sweaty and lockjawy and his eyes looked like my dinner plates and then he started stuttering about how he would not be deprived of the most wonderful time of the year, which starts the first of November. Whoa, Alfro. Settle down. I had to promise him one of those pre-lit trees from Tai Pan Trading to get the lockjaw to subside.

6) I have not even touched a GRE prep book and am no closer to grad school than I was on July 19. Why do I have no desire to do anything but blog and eat creamies?

7) I really am enjoying Logan. My job. Adam's job. My paycheck. Adam's paycheck. My house. Adam's house. Oh wait. Mostly I just can't get enough of this October weather. Current temperature in Rexburg: 55 degrees. Current Logan temp: 69 degrees. Love. It.

8) For the past few nights, I've woken up to find my alarm clock laying against the wall with the batteries all strewn across the floor and the back popped off. Almost like someone threw it and it hit the wall. Hum.....

9) Remember my punkins? At night they turn into this: 10) Speaking of Halloween, what is everyone being? Mostly I just want to know so I can steal your idea and win a fat prize at work.

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Biggest. Punkins. Ever.

$3.00 a piece. And if you still aren't getting it after 3 pics, imagine a small child. Like the kind that rides tricycles. Not the preemie kind. That's how big these punkins are. And sorry about the Obama sign in pic numero 2. I'm not doing any last minute subliminal campaigning. I promise. But if you're like me, you voted early today and no sign, bumper sticker, or cliche statement about America can change that.

For the record, after Adam and I exited the voting venue, he turned on me in a manner reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds and began pelting me with questions about my presidential selection. I seriously had to duck and cover all the way to the car. He was dieing to know if I really had written in Dieter F. Uchtdorf like I claimed I would or if my true obstinate character had lead me to vote for McCain. Now you're all wondering what I did too, aren't you?

Well, I'll tell you like I told him: MYOB. Mind your own beeswax. Now, stop pouting and get to admiring my punkins.

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Dejunk

Tonight's FHE activity: getting rid of nearly HALF of my wardrobe. I'm out of date and out of style, two out of's that I swore I would NEVER be. Nevertheless, marriage equals poor equals no shopping, so I haven't seen the sale at Nordstrom's in nearly 2 years.

My mission this coming weekend is to update my closet. But before I can let the plastic start flying, I took the advice of French designer Andree Putman who said, "I love America, and I love American women. But there is one thing that deeply shocks me: American closets. I cannot believe one can dress well when you have so much." I'm pretty sure he was talking about my closet.

Long story long, here was the judge for the nights events:
As with any good democracy, we used the checks and balances method wherein an opinion may be offered but a veto still held priority. And good thing too because Adam tried to scrap my favorite black turtleneck. And speaking of Adam, the following comment was made of a blue, cable knit sweater and nearly caused an accident involving pants and a certain body fluid: "Whoa. You could run a bed and breakfast in Vermont in that thing. I guess you could wear it in the middle of winter.......or maybe not even then".

Anyway, here's the remains:
Tainted, aged, out-of-style, high school, rancid, septic....need I go on? And for my way back peeps, I'm ditching the red (if you're color blind like Adam, you may know them as pink) pants. Though I'm having serious second thoughts.....

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Ping-pong is the new pink

I've really been trying not to pick on Adam as much. Even people from Bern, Idaho have feelings. But try as I might, he's a bag of unopened Red Vines pulled from a hot car after sitting inside softening for three hours. Basically, he's just ripe for the picking...at.

After finding out that Adam works at the high school, the next question inevitably asked by everyone is, "Do you coach any sports?" I immediately snort because Adam and sports is like oil and water, nay, it's like raisins and chicken salad (no matter how long I live in Utah, I can NOT grasp the logic behind this oddly match combo). Adam usually gives me the stink eye, shutting down any responses I might have that draw attention to his body parts.

Yesterday as we were receiving a calling as ward missionaries (ha), the convo came around to the tell-tale question regarding Adam's employment and extracurriculars. I, of course, snorted and got ready to receive my usual dirty look, but instead was taken aback, to say the least. Adam squared his shoulders, looked the bishop in the eye, and said, "Yes sir. I'm the adviser for the ping-pong team."

Um, hello? The mathletes called and are all bummed because they wanted you as their adviser. See what I mean about Red Vines? He's irresistible. I hope the cool kids at school don't beat him up behind the lunch room. It might mess up his playing arm.

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The WWCB: Southwest Chicken Panini

Two words: scrump tious. Takes 10 minutes. Takes 7 ingredients. And taste like heaven on 2 pieces of french bread. Here's how:

2 cups of Tyson Pre-cooked Chicken Strips (I'm partial to processed chicken)

1-1/2 tsp. chili powder

2 Tbsp. Mayo (or if you like to be a freak, Miracle Whip)

2 Tbsp. Ranch Dressing

8 slices French Bread

1 large tomato, cut

4 Kraft Singles

Preheat George Foreman grill, panini maker, or regular frying pan. Mix chicken, chili powder and dressings in a pan over medium heat until heated through. Make sandwiches with bread slices, chicken mixture, tomatoes and cheese.

Grill (now here's the tricky part: if you have a George Foreman, it works great. If you have a panini maker, you're a snob and a half. If you have a frying pan, make sure you apply pressure with a plate and a heavy can or at least the spatula so the sandwich gets kinda smooshed) 3 to 5 min. or until cheese is melted and sandwiches are golden brown on both sides.

Done and done.

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broski's wedding day

The last Dubb-dogg was purged from the single scene on Thursday. There are officially 9 children, 9 in-laws, 19 grandchildren, and 2 parents. Does that scare anybody? I mean, mess with one of us and you've got 38 other people comin' after you. Reminiscent of MSNBC's Week in Pictures, here's the day in pics. Unless you're a hardcore fan, you might want to think twice before diving headfirst into this extensive piece of photojournalism.Anyway, there you have it. The last of the last. I'm sorry to all you gals I promised Will to. It's a done deal now. Congrats, Will and Marci!

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raising my right hand

Sometimes I just sit leaning against the green wall opposite this view and I think, "Now that is peaceful." What would it be like to be a green tropical tree saved from the bargain cart at Lowe's and spend your days sitting in a lovely brocade laden pot basking in the sunshine of an open window dressed in dewy white drapes from Ikea? This image is the one spot of peace I find in the chaos that is my life. I could sit against this green wall for hours and just watch the breeze blow curtains and leaves in a manner reminiscent of hammocks, lemonade, and bare feet.

Alas, I can feel my time against the green wall drawing to a close with each dropping degree. Folks, old man winter has again pushed his big, fat way into our lovely valley and I'm not happy about it. But I am announcing before my entire population of fans (all two of you) that I will NOT let this blog become the outlet for all my weather woes. I'm changed. I live in L-town now. In L-town, the lame can walk, the streets are paved with gold, and peeps don't complain about the weather.

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PRESENTS!!!!

I made you something. Just because I like you. Well, at least I think I like you. Those of you I know, I like. Those of you who just stalk my blog, let me know who you are and I could possibly like you.

Annnyyywaaayyy, here's a little treat for your desktop. A dear friend of mine once said that if your creative juice pitcher seems to be empty, step away and do something else. So these wallpapers are a product of that philosophy. I just could NOT come up with a decent looking flyer today at work so I stepped away (just not too far away; I still have to look like I'm working, right?), did something brainless (i.e. these), and when I came back WAH-LA! Flyer finalized and ready to be email blasted.

Now if I did this right, all you have to do is click on the picture to enlarge it, then right click and set it as your background. I think....

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Oh, Sarah Palin

I just don't get her. On one hand I'm all, "Love girl power, love personal hygiene, and love being energy conscience." But on the other hand I think Sarah Palin's a stupid-head. Yes, I really did just use the word "stupid-head". And I'm probably going to do it again.

I got all kinds of interested in her the other night (i know, i know. imagine me being interested in anything other than Photoshop and stilettos) and did a little research. My findings, which included her underwhelming educational journey (emphasis on journey), her interesting pageantry, and the Katie Couric interview, did little more but ignite my flame of excitement for the ensuing vice-presidential debate on Thursday night. See what this man is doing to me?!?!? I'm turning into a nerd!

Nevertheless, I got out my p-corn and warm socks and settled down for the a public display of humiliation. Now remember, I'm Switzerland: I choose not to affiliate with either political party despite the voices in my head i.e. my hot-headed Democrat husband. Here's my very professional, completely unbiased, totally factual, absolutely correct analysis of the debate:

Palin came out strong. She had some solid phrases that rung true and her grammar and vocabulary choices weren't nearly the train wreck I had expected (and trust me, I know how to talk good). And that's all the kind words I have to say. The rest of the debate was fulled of Alaska pride, unanswered questions, and the word "maverick". And the winking thing has got to go. Nobody ever got elected to office for their ability to wink.

So what's the deal? Are we ever going to get a women in the running who is worth her salt? Because both Sarah and Hillary are stupid-heads. Any thoughts about Miss Alaska?

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Happy white-trash Halloween

I do heart Halloween, despite my HATE of cold weather. Today is especially what Adam and I have termed a "cocoa and toast day". It's blustery and rainy and 'pooookky. What I really want to be doing requires a huge down comforter, anything written by Philippa Gregory, and that cheesy Yellowstone mug with my name on it filled to the brim of hot chocolate. Alas, I'm sitting here blogging whilst Adam retakes the LSAT instead.

Anyway, back to my love of Halloween. Last Halloween, I threw the party of the century for Adam. I wiped the Dollar Tree clean of all their tacky decorations, I made spaghetti and meatballs and called it hair and eyeballs, and we carved a jack-o-lantern so scary that the neighbor children cried themselves to sleep for a whole year. Despite all our fun, at the end of the night we were left with nothing but $15 worth of really dumb decorations.

During my usual Saturday clean, I found the bag of this decor and thought it appropriate to deck the halls with boughs of stupidness. So, Happy October (where did September go?), enjoy your 'pooky day, and here's a little taste of what our white-trash Halloween will look like this year.

*WARNING* Some of the following is so skeery you might cry yourself to sleep for a whole year.

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Word on the street

Here's a little shout out to all my peeps up at BYU-Idaho. Forbes just came out with their "Best Collages" list. Get this: BYU-Idaho ranked 245th out of 569 colleges. Considering that there are nearly 3,00o four year universities in the US, that's pretty d#*@ good. What's more (and I'm only pointing this out because it was pointed out to me), BYU in Provo ranked 214th. That's not a big gap. But you can make your own assumptions about this bit of knowledge; I still half a cougar. Additionally, I felt a beaming amount of pleasure with the fact that BYU-Idaho ranked higher than ALL of the schools (minus BYU) in Utah and nearly all of the schools in Idaho. AND YET, I still get the wrinkled nose and the "How did you like that?" when I answer the question regarding my schooling. Whatevs. Can I get a h^#$ yeah from my fellow Rexburgians?!?!? Click here for the entire list.

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