Oh what a week it has been...

So if you are fiercely dedicated to this blog (and why wouldn't you be? It's basically the best thing on the Internet. ...right?) then you noticed that I didn't post a single thing last week. 

And none of you panicked.

Which I assume means that you all were following my Instagram story very closely and you knew how insanely busy I was at a work conference. 

But you have no idea...

Let me take you through my week of absolute insanity: 

Monday: Woke up at 2am to drive to the airport for my 5:40am flight. Luckily the whole WHO AM I debacle got solved in the nick of time, so I ended up making it through security no problem. 

At 11am, I checked in at my hotel in Memphis and promptly NAPPED MY BUTT OFF. It was glorious.

Monday Night-Thursday Night was spent LEARNING ALL THE THINGS AND MEETING ALL THE OTHER BOOKSELLERS AND AUTHORS IN THE LAND AND IT WAS GLORIOUS AND THE MR REALIZED MY EXTREME AWESOMENESS: 

The Mr reacted appropriately when he found out I met @hankgreen. #wi13

A post shared by Emelie Samuelson (@awkwardlyaliveblog) on

It was amazing. And exhausting. But mostly amazing.

Friday: Flew home. Read three books. Very happy.

Saturday: Back to work at the bookshop all day and then immediately after work I went up the street to the church where The Mr and I run the youth group. Saturday night was, of course, our annual overnight lock-in. We "slept" for maybe 5 hours. Maybe. Once again, things were amazing and exhausting.

Sunday: Up at 7am to make breakfast for 15 teenagers before church - skipped out of church early to head to the bookshop where I was hosting a dinosaur themed birthday party for a dozen toddlers. This is when things REALLY get crazy.

The birthday party was scheduled for 12-2pm. So imagine my surprise when all of the guests show up at 11am. 

Me: Hi!

Birthday boy's grandmother: Hi!

Me:  So... I had noon?

Her:  Oh no. I sent out invitations that said 11-1...

Me: Great!

So... cut to a dozen phone calls to reschedule the pizza delivery and also to get the birthday boy here on time, which was harder than one would think, since his mother wrote down that the party started at 1. 

YEAH. 

Did I mention how little I had slept at that point? VERY LITTLE. 

But somehow, it happened. It happened in a blur, but it happened. The pizza showed up at noon instead of 1pm, the birthday boy got there by 11:20, and I went to bed at 3pm and I think I might still be sleeping now as I type this. 

All I know is that it's good to be done with it all and back to blogging with you wonderful people. 

Good night. 

TO THE ROOF!

This week Fiancé and I discovered the joys of furniture assembly and arrangement as a couple. There was a whole lot of "No, really, the couch should go here," followed by "Oh my god, you were so right, this is all wrong, let's put it back the way it was," and then "That looks awful, doesn't it? Maybe we should just put it all on the roof and call it a day?" The biggest issue is that we live in 200-year-old tiny farm house with tiny rooms and crooked walls and we bought a bunch of modern-sized furniture from Ikea that doesn't fit in said tiny farm house with tiny rooms and crooked walls. Plus, we have double the amount of stuff now that we're living together. So, I'm suggesting we put stuff on the roof.

Fiancé: You mean the attic?

Me: What? No! It's haunted up there. I mean the roof.

Fiancé: Why?

Me: Because we have too much furniture right now.

Fiancé: So you want to put it on the roof?

Me: Yes.

Fiancé: How are you going to get to the roof?

Me: A ladder. Or magic?

Fiancé: What furniture is going up there?

Me: At least some chairs. We have too many chairs.

Fiancé: Oh, like the designer chair you got from your sister?

Me: NO! I love that chair!

Fiancé: I have a feeling that you just mean my furniture.

Me: You said it, not me.

Fiancé: I think we can put the shoe trunk on the roof. I hate that thing. It's dangerous, it smells weird, and it's impossible to find any of our shoes in there.

Me: I agree. That furniture plan did not work out. It's going on the roof.

Fiancé: Great. Except... It has all of our shoes in it. I don't want to go up on the roof without any shoes.

Me: TOO BAD IT'S ALREADY DECIDED I'M GETTING THE LADDER!

Cohabitation is going really well, you guys.

***

In other news, I wrote a piece about Book Guilt and it's over on Books, Ink's Hamlet Hub. Go check it out, but only if you want to!

"Hey! You're Great! I love you! ...Too much?" or "A Midwesterner in New England's Court."

I get teased a lot for being such a friendly Midwesterner. I never really noticed it until I moved to New England where everyone is very into their privacy and conversations are minimal with strangers. Thankfully, I work in retail, so my sunny disposition is a skill rather than a nuisance, and it ends up working in my favor, but if I didn’t have books to sell, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I just like talking to people. I like hearing their stories and what they have to say, and I genuinely believe that if you’re nice to others and take an active interest in people, they’ll either return the favor or pay it forward (or both, if things go really well!), and that’s something I can be proud of. As someone at work put it, “everyone is Emelie’s best friend.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have my bad days and I have my bad moments during my good days when I’m not as nice as I could have been or I say something truly awful and stupid to or about someone, and I almost always feel remorse over those moments. I do get annoyed with people and there are people who I just don’t like or don’t get along with, but I’d like to think that I give everyone an honest shot before deciding whether or not I like them. I do my best to be nice to every cashier and every barista – after all, coffee is my lifeline and if I’m not nice to the barista, things could end up very poorly for me – and I try and make sure that each customer who walks into the bookshop knows that I’ve seen them and that I’m happy to help them find a book if they need me. A lot of that has to do with my job, yes, but I think that it’s mostly just in my nature. I just happened to find the career that works best with my personality.

So, yeah, when I answer the phone, my voice goes up an octave, and when I ask how you’re doing, I really do want to know. It’s not forced and it’s not fake; it’s just… happiness. It’s love. I operate out of a love for what I’m doing and for the people I’m talking to, and even if some think that it’s too much, I’m not going to stop. I am nice. I am happy. And I’m unapologetic about it, because if any of that can transfer from me to you, then you bet your butt that I’m going to keep doing it.

Sorry, New England. You’ve got a loud Midwesterner in your midst and she’s here to stay.

The Guy Was Probably Just Impressed with/Jealous of My Old Lady Impression.

Good morning, Duckies!! So yesterday at work, I had a very strange series of conversations...

Phone rings

Me: Thank you for calling The Book Shop! This is Emelie.

Older Woman: Yes, Hi! Is Michael there?

Me: Oh, I'm sorry. He doesn't work here anymore.

OW: I'm sorry?

Me: He no longer works here. He quit about a year ago.

OW: But... he just called me this morning to tell me that my book is in...

Me: He did?

OW: Yes! And I thought it was odd because I picked that book up weeks ago...

Me: Was it a voicemail?

OW: No.

Me: You actually spoke to him?

OW: Yes! We spoke this morning!

Me: Hm... well this is a mystery.

So, I took down her information and confirmed that she did, in fact, pick up the book in question a few weeks ago. I told her that I'd call her back if I found anything out, but otherwise, to just pretend like this whole thing never happened, which she was more than happy to do.

Me: Was Michael here this morning?

My Boss: No...

Me: You're sure?

Boss: Yes...

Me: He didn't come in to pick up a book and then... just started working? He does that, you know.

Boss: Yeah, he does do that... but I never saw him this morning.

Me: This is so weird! It's like that ghost story where the guy meets a girl and they go out on a lovely date, and then after he drives her home, he realizes that she left her sweater in his car. Being the gentleman that he is he drives back to go return the sweater, right?

My boss was staring at me with... perplexity at this moment.

Me: But then, when he gets to her house, he knocks on the door and this old lady answers. The guy is all "Hi! Is Betsy here?" and the old lady goes - and this is when I did my best old lady voice - "Betsy's been dead for ten years!" ...DUN DUN DUNNNN!!!!

At this point, my boss was cracking up and staring... past me... so then I turned around and realized that there was an elderly man standing right behind me. He had been looking through our bestsellers, but he was very clearly having a hard time keeping it together after listening to the crazy bookseller imitate old ladies in ghost stories...

So... I politely asked if I could help him find anything, which he politely refused. So I ran away to another part of the store.

Fortunately, I made my boss's day with all of that, so points for me, right? Yay!

 

In other news... 

I've auditioned for Blogger Idol! I know. This is so exciting! Hopefully I'll make it into the final 12 and then you'll all totally vote for me, right?

...right?

RIGHT??

Okay, good. :)

Anyway, this morning is not only awesome because of the audition, but it's also awesome because I woke up to a tweet informing me that I'm on "Where Bloggers Blog!"  You should totally go check out this blog if you haven't already. I often go to it when I'm daydreaming about having a real desk in a real writing studio instead of this:

photo

It's probably one of the coolest tumblrs I've seen in a really long time.

Anyway, have a wonderful weekend, Duckies!! See you on Monday!