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.

 

And then Sherlock taught me that everything is a lie and I can trust no one.

Okay, so if you haven't watched all of Sherlock, you definitely shouldn't read this post. Because a) Spoilers and b) You need to think about your life and your choices. Also c) I've waited long enough now that most of you should have seen this. The point is that I finally finished the latest season of Sherlock and flipped the hell out.

A conversation I had with my best friend, who has decided to use the pseudonym "John Hamm" on this blog for her own reasons, after I watched the final episode of Sherlock:

Me: GAH!!!

Me: No. Fucking. Way.

JH: Yup.

Me: No.

JH: Yes.

Me: No.

JH: You're in denial.

Me: I WATCHED HIM SHOOT HIMSELF.

JH: We all did.

Me: Don't sass me.

JH: I'm not... We're all feeling the same feels.

Me: Does anyone actually ever die in this show?!?!

JH: I have absolutely no idea.

Me: Gaahhhhhhhh

Me: I can't even handle this.

Me: *flips laptop*

JH: Yeah, the next season is gonna be a blast.

Me: They don't even start filming until next year.

Me: Everything is a lie.

JH: Sherlock broke our trust.

Me: Do you realize that if you die, I'm never going to trust that it's true?? I'll just be all "NOPE."

JH: Why am I dying in this scenario? :<

Me: YOU'RE NOT, OBVIOUSLY. GOSH.

http://www.tumblr.com/search/Moriarty+gifs/recent

Window? Squirrel Parkour Course? I've Heard It Both Ways.

So, my best friend, who has decided to go by the pseudonym "John Hamm" on this blog (so as to avoid any Internet association with me) texted me this video just now:

Me: Oh my gosh. So cute.

JH: He's growling at me now!

Me: Haha! I love him.

JH: I think I'm gonna turn on the air conditioner and show him what's up.

Me: No! That's so mean!!

JH: I think he tried to attack me through the window... It was kind of adorable, but totally fruitless.

Me: Awww. What a cutie! Name?

JH: Haven't thought of one... But "Snape"* talks to the squirrels like they're outdoor kitty cats, so maybe I should pick one.

Me: I think so... Neville? Or Seamus? Seamus was pretty squirrelly.... and he always caught on fire.

JH: Maybe Gerald. But I think I name everything Gerald.

Me: Ha. Gerald...

JH: Maybe Starbuck. Because it started of cute and then it got really annoying...

Me: YES.

 

*"Snape" is "John Hamm's" boyfriend. He really does look and sort of talk like Snape. It's uncanny and a little disturbing.

It's not an unhealthy relationship, I swear.

So, a few weeks ago, my bestie (who has decided to go by  "John Hamm" on this blog for legal reasons) posted this on my Facebook wall with the message "Please take and report back to me":

Initially, my result was that John Hamm and I were Seth and Evan from Superbad. The following conversation happened in the comments of said Facebook posting:

JH:  Haha I got Romy and Michelle from Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.

Me: What?? I like your view of our relationship way better. I'm gonna take it again and go with the answers I decided against for certain questions.

Me: BOOM.

Me: At first I answered "tearfully" for our fighting solutions... then I switched to "talk it out" ...to me? Same diff.

JH: To be fair, it's usually a fine combination of both.

Me: Exactly! Anyway, we're so much more like Romy and Michelle.

JH: I've never seen that movie, but from what I can tell it's accurate haha

Me: Same here! I'm thinking that we have a movie night? Over the phone?

JH: Done. Now I just have to acquire it.

Me: HOW IS IT NOT ON NETFLIX?!?

JH: I already checked, Netflix didn't even know it was a movie according to my search.

Me: Whoa, Netflix. Whoa.

JH: It ruins my life in more way than one.

JH: And no, I am not concerned that we are having a chat in the comments like it's instant message.

Me: Are you kidding me? This is already a future blog post. Working title: "John Hamm and I Aren't Afraid to PDA."

Me: It needs work, but it's there.

JH: Everyone who reads your blog is gonna be like, "What's all this stuff about John Hamm? I liked it better when she was writing about dog poop..."

Me: Yeah, but he hasn't shit himself in a while, so you're all I've got.

I'm Just Saying, I Wouldn't Mind Meeting a Husky Wearing a Fedora.

So, I had this plan, right? I was going to meet my best friend, marry him, and live happily ever after. All of this was supposed to happen by the age of 23. See, the original plan included me bumping into some handsome guy in a college class or in my dorm hall and we'd have some awkward interaction, followed by a series of coincidental meet-ups and hang outs, which then blossomed into something we both couldn't ignore:  Love and obvious sexual chemistry. Stop laughing.

In my defense, I have a family with an uncanny success rate when it comes to love. Two of my siblings married their high school sweethearts, the third sibling met her husband in grad school and never looked back, and my parents, who are still happily married after almost 35 years, were engaged after 5 weeks of knowing each other, despite the fact that they lived on different continents.

So... my expectations were skewed as a child.

Me? I'm in my mid-twenties and I live with my dog on 100 acres of forestry. No husband. No boyfriend to speak of.

You see, Duckies, it turns out that life has this way of kicking your plans in the balls and then walking away without a second thought.

That whole best friend for a husband thing didn't exactly work out, which is fine, because I actually kind of love my life right now. That being said, I'm not exactly hoping it stays exactly as it is. I mean, I still would like to meet SOMEONE.

So, what's a girl who lives in the middle of nowhere to do?

She's gonna fall down the rabbit hole of online dating, Duckies. And she's gonna drag her bestie, "John Hamm," right down with her.

That's right: We went boy shopping. Let's be honest, folks, that's what online dating really is. I sift through profiles like their on the clearance rack at Target: "Ugly... ugly... ugly... oh this is cute... oh, no... way too small*... Nice, but not my style..."

*I'm referring to his HEIGHT. Get your head out of the gutter. 

So last night, after some wine for me and lots of coffee for John Hamm (she's studying for law school finals), we ventured deep into the Internet... and this is what we found (and then shared on Facebook for all of our friends to see... - Hi Mom!):

 

John Hamm's Facebook Status: Late night coffee and helping Emelie boy shop on the Internet. I'm super high on caffeine and judging people.

The comments:

  • MeThere are so many unfortunate people on the Internet.
  • JH: 
  • "Pixie Stick": I mean, that's how I met mine. You'd better start posting hilarious quotes asap.
  • Me: Pixie Stick - so many dead fish.
  • Me"Oooooh.. he's cute. WAIT. 5'7". HARD PASS."
  • JH: "I'm just saying, if he uses the word 'loquacious' in his profile, he's probably a tool."
  • Me: "He owns his own clothing line and has a neck tattoo. Total winner."
  • PS: ... From now on, just assume that I "like" every quote you post. 
  • PS: Oh, I think I know that neck tat/clothing guy ..... wait, maybe there's more than one of them out there. God help us.
  • Me: "This guy started out seeming nerdy and sweet... now that I'm looking at his profile in more detail, I'm realizing he might be a murderer."
  • Me: "Okay, this guy seems like a tool, but he has a Husky and it's wearing a fedora... can I use this site to meet people's dogs?"
  • JH: I just found a guy who looks like a cross between Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaghey, it's like the cast of True Detective got together and had a baby."
  • Me: "LADIESMAN646 IS LOOKING AT MY PROFILE"
  • JH: I'm thinking about creating a fake profile and just calling it "Catfish" because this site keeps cock-blocking me.
  • Me: Whaaaat? This guy's favorite book is Mansfield Park?
    JH: No. False. No man's favorite book is Mansfield Park
  • Me: He's kind of cute. I mean... I wouldn't kick him out of bed...
    JH: Mostly because that's a rude thing to do.

He-owns-his-own-clothing

Graphic User Interfaces for Life.

I've been thinking about the importance of friendships a lot lately. I think that companionship is an extremely important thing to be good at in life, and maybe that's because I'm terrible at being alone. When people ask me what my worst fear is or what I think Hell is, I always respond with "being alone for the rest of my life." That used to be in regards to romance. Some days, it still is, but it's expanded way beyond that recently.

For as long as I can remember, I've had this terrible habit of making my entire life about The Boy. Whatever boy I was in love with at that point in my life, he was all that mattered. I used to think that was something really wonderful about me. I was kind of an idiot. I still can be, but that's not the point.

The thing is, though, that at the end of the day, the most important person in my life thus far has been my best friend, "John Hamm." I met her under really odd circumstances in my basement when I was 14 and we've been through and survived everything life has thrown at us up to this point together. There have been amazing years where we have talked every single day. There was a good year and a half when we didn't talk at all. I still referred to her as my best friend throughout that whole time, and I wish I could say that it was because I knew we would be okay, but I think it was more that I refused to accept that we might not be. (That's an entirely different self-reflection point.) Luckily, we made it through that, too.

 

bestbians2

Our friendship survived - even thrived - throughout college, and when we both lived in Europe. It survived us living together (just barely) and now, it's surviving as we're both settling into our lives in different states. Granted, we're only a few hours away from one another, but she lives a busy city life full of law school, and I live a quiet country life full of bookshops and small town crowds. Our scenes aren't exactly the same anymore.

By many standards, John Hamm and I should have faded away a long time ago. We should have graduated college, found boyfriends or husbands, moved to new places, started new lives, and referred to each other as "My best friend when I was in college." I mean, that's how these things usually go, right?

But we haven't.

See, the thing is that while I was always making my life about The Boy, and when John Hamm was feeling hurt about the fact that I couldn't seem to understand that, she never abandoned me. She put up with my bullshit and even pointed it out to me, because she knows she's the one person who can say that to me, and I'll listen.

Boys have come and gone. Boys will keep coming and going. One day, maybe, a boy might even stick around, and that will be a wonderful day. I still want that, because I'm human and a Jane Austen fan who loves romantic comedies. I'm never going to stop wanting that.

To be honest, though, I'm at a point where now my biggest fear is being without my best friend. Not having a best friend at all.

And John Hamm and I will continue to go through our own hills and valleys with one another. Some months, we'll talk every day and it will be great, but let's face it: We're at the beginning of our adult lives and things will only keep getting more and more insane and busy and full of other people, and maybe one day one of us will get married and have children (human or non-) and things will become even more packed with chaos. Our lives will be all about schedules and deadlines and sticky little fingers covered in mystery substances.

I hope to still call her my best friend throughout all of that. After all, we all need someone to turn to when the boys are driving us nuts and even when they're making us feel wonderful. We need that person to tell us "Hey, look at your priorities. Hit the brakes for a second and just check your route before you make a really wrong turn down a one-way street." I'm actually lucky enough to say that I've got a few of those in my life, which might mean that I'm a little more screwed up than I should be.

I guess what all of this rambling is supposed to say is that friends are important and I hope you all have a "John Hamm." I hope you all have that person in your life to talk to and go through it all with. Romance is really important, and it is a wonderful thing to be cherished and sought after. Best friends, though, are a whole different type of relationship and they take just as much care and passion as romance does.

That's why John Hamm and I make a point to meet for lunch one Sunday a month halfway between our respective cities and spend a whole day together with one another. This past time around, we got to talking about this very subject, and when I got home, I texted her to tell her how much I appreciate her:

Me: <insert long heartfelt speech here about how much I love her>

JH: Haha, thank you. :) I know we're good. I love you too.

Me: Call me whenever, okay?

JH: Ok. Same goes for you.

Me: Thanks. We're forever.

JH: I know. We're GUIs.

JH: Good...

JH: Autocorrect win...

Me: I was about to ask what that meant.

JH: No. I mean it, Emelie. We are graphic user interfaces.

Me: Until the end of time. :)

JH: :)

And I really mean that, Duckies. I really, really mean that.

Relationships with John Hamm

It's almost Valentine's Day, folks. Yes, the time of year where we eat chalk-flavored candies with grammatically incorrect messages of love on them. The only time of year that a stuffed animal is a totally normal thing for an adult to give to another adult. Of course, it's also the time of year for all us singles to be angry and bitter at the world. Because that's apparently what we do now. (Singles Awareness Day? Really?  We're not a suffering group of starving or oppressed children. Get ahold of yourselves.)

Anyway, love is in the air and everyone is talking about relationships (or Sochi). So in honor of that, I'm giving you this image that my best friend "John Hamm" scrawled out and sent to me one evening last week while she was out at the bar. Because nobody drunkenly venn diagrams like that woman:

20140204-070000.jpg

 

You're welcome.

What Happens When We Talk About Boys.

Okay, so last night, my good friend Lemon and I were sitting at the bar having a drink when we spotted this mega attractive guy at the table behind us. Naturally, we went into creepy mode and started trying to sneak pictures of him to send to our best friend John Hamm, who just recently moved out to Boston and abandoned us all. All of said pictures came out blurry and accomplished nothing other than embarrassment.

blurrybreakfast

So, anyway, John Hamm is dating the head chef at this restaurant (where Lemon and I also work). You haven't met him yet, duckies, but we'll call him Snape because... well... he kind of looks like Snape... if Snape showered every once in a while and smiled sometimes, too. Plus, he cooks amazing food, which is kind of like being a potions master, right?

Anyway... back to the blurry yet attractive man at the table and our texting conversation about him.

Lemon: Snape thinks he's gay... :( This has thrown us into second-guessing.

John Hamm: What, hot guy?

Me: No... Snape. Duh.... Like... you're his beard.

John Hamm: Ho boy... This is awkward.

Me: I think he and the sous chef are running away together.

I'd like to take a moment to point how just how quickly we got derailed from talking about the hot guy here. And no, Snape is not gay. That we know of.

Lemon: Now I'm paranoid... Because he is NOT gay in my head... Hot guy. Not Snape.

John Hamm: I'm just going to have to vehemently prove everyone wrong when he comes out here.

Me: GROSS!!

Lemon: Soooo... As witnessed by no one?

Me: Or everyone....

John Hamm: I can make you guys witnesses, but I feel like you wouldn't like that.

Lemon: ...do I get popcorn?

Me: And tomatoes to throw at you guys?

John Hamm: That's your prerogative.

Lemon: Can we yell "boo" when necessary?

Me: And applaud when deserved? Golf claps only, of course.

Lemon: Yeah, we don't want to distract you.

John Hamm: There will be no booing, as it will be spectacular from beginning to end.

Me: Oh!! And we can judge it "Dancing With the Stars" style!!! I want to be Bruno.

Lemon: I'm Len!!

John Hamm: You'll need a third.

Me: Um... Gumby. Obvi. He can be Carrie Ann.

John Hamm: Aw! He'll be enthused for me.

Me: But he'll critique your foot work!

Lemon: That means we get scoring paddles... Which you are prohibited from utilizing. Get your own! Oh! and I will use a cranky British accent!

Me: Yeah! I'll work on rolling my R's and getting all animated with my shoulders to the point of not being able to stay seated.

John Hamm: Just hang out with your mom for a while.

Me: Truth.

Lemon: This conversation took a strange turn...

John Hamm: Strange, but true... Also, it started strange.

Lemon: Eh, more or less.

Me: I can't wait for the Internet tomorrow...

What Do You Mean My Life Isn't a Sit-Com?

So, I might have a problem... As many of you know, my best friend, John Hamm, has moved away to Boston (excuse me while I go bawl my eyes out in to a glass of wine at 10:00 a.m.).

Obviously, we still talk on the phone all the time, because that's what besties do.

So, yesterday, she was talking to me about meeting up with a new prospective roommate out there, because sad as it may be, John Hamm is currently a homeless law school student (don't worry, she has a friend with a couch for the time being).

Me: So when are you meeting this dude?

JH: I think in about an hour.

Me: I hope he's not a creepy rapist...

JH: Yeah, me too.

Me: Best case scenario, he'll be gay.

JH: Haha, I guess?

Me: Well, then there's absolutely no risk of him being a creepy rapist to you! Plus, everyone knows that a sassy gay roommate is the best thing a girl just starting law school can ask for. You guys will be like the new Will & Grace, except YOU'LL be the lawyer and HE'LL be the gay one.

JH: And we're not in a sit-com.

Me: ...what are you talking about? We've always led sit-com lives. You're the Ellie to my Jules in Cougartown. You're the Jordan to my Elliot in Scrubs. You're the Cece to my Jess in New Girl. The only one we've never really been able to nail down is our "Friends" personas.

JH: No, Emelie... that's the only one YOU'VE never been able to nail down. YOU'VE been living in a sit-com your whole life.

Me: ...It's like I don't even know you anymore. This is just like that time when Joey started acting all womanly and weirding Chandler out...

JH: ::sigh:: ... Yeah. Just like that.

Honeys, I'm Hooooome!

Hello, all my wonderful Duckies!! I am so sorry that I went AWOL for the past two weeks. My best friend, John Hamm, moved away to Boston for Law School this past weekend, so the entire week leading up to that was... well, emotional, to say the least.

But now she's there, and I'm facing the fact that life has to become normal again, which is totally lame, except for the part that means I get to return to the blogosphere and catch up with all you crazy kids. That part is the awesome part.

So what's been new in this world?

Who's gotten married? Are any of you pregnant? When did Lisa and Janet become best friends? When I left this place, they  hated each other! Man... it's like a totally different house, now... And who painted the bathroom? I love it!

Anyway, so yeah. I'll be back tomorrow with some actual humor, but for now, I just wanted to say hello. Now, please let me go up to my blogging-room and unpack my blogging-suitcase.

Also, is there any blogging-coffee in this place?