I'm baaaaaack!

So sorry to disappear on all of you for so long, Duckies! I've been out of the country for the past week or so for a family reunion in Sweden. (Yes. The new NBC show is actually quite accurate.) It was glorious and wonderful and all the positive words we could all think of and then when we run out of positive words that exist in all the languages, we'd have to create more in order to sum up just how much I love it in my family's homeland. However, as you all know, I have a tendency to embarrass myself.... and Sweden did not take that away. For those of you who follow me on Instagram, you've seen the photos and all that, but here's just a little taste of how the whole trip started...

Checking in at the airport...

My internal monologue: Lalala, time to go to Sweden... Oh! The check-in line is super short! Like... only 3 people! Awesome!

Check-in Dude: I can help you here, miss!

Me: Thanks!

Check-in DudeHow are you today?

Me: Super! And yourself?

Check-in Dude: Good, thank you. ...You know there's a business line right here, right?

Me: ...I did not.

My internal monologue: Am I at the wrong desk? Does this guy only take business class flyers? Emelie, that's idiotic. He waved you over here from the regular line... Oh, he's talking again.

Check-in Dude: Ha, well, now you do! Anyway, this green dot will get you through the priority security line and are you familiar with our business lounge for SAS flyers?

Me: ...no... Wait... am I in business class?

Check-in Dude: ...yes, miss.

Me: Oh. Well... isn't that a nice surprise. Tell me more about this lounge!

So... Thanks to my father and his Swedish Mafia glory, that happened... However, I don't know if he thought this through, you guys. I mean... it's me, after all. Do you really think I'm a person who can handle herself in Business Class?

Let's just say that I made sure I sat in the corner farthest away from everyone and drank my free cocktails in what I hoped was silence. I'm not sure. I might of been drunk when I got on the plane.

And then they came around with free champagne.

And then they came around with free red or white wine.

And then I spilled red wine all over my white sweater.

Like a classy adult.

A conversation with the flight attendant just after take-off:

Flight Attendant: Anything to drink?

Me: Coffee, please?

Flight Attendant: Um... anything cold to drink? We haven't brewed the coffee yet.

Me: Oh... Um... I'll just wait for the coffee, I suppose.

Dad: She'll have wine.

Me: What?

Flight Attendant: Red or White?

Dad: Red.They let me into businessclass... (2)

Me: Am I still here?

Flight Attendant: Here you are, miss!

Me: ...thank you...

45 minutes later...

Flight Attendant: Someone wanted coffee?

Me: Oh thank GOD yes.

Flight Attendant: Ha, should I just keep it coming?

Me: You can just leave the pot if you want.

Dad: You have a problem.... Oh, sir, I'll take another glass of wine.

Me: Thanks, Kettle....


So yeah. That was my flight TO Sweden.

And now I can never travel again because I'VE BEEN TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT CURTAIN.


Anyway, the rest of the trip was grand and full of family memories, as most family vacations are, and now I am back home with my dog and my neighbor's cows and happy to be back on the internet.  See you soon!


Don't all Mothers Have "Unintentionally" Perverse Cookie Cutters?

So, today is a Swedish Christmas Holiday. December 13th is St. Lucia Day. In honor of this holiday, I got together with my mom to bake a bunch of Swedish Christmas cookies and saffron bread (St Lucia Buns!)  Now, as many of you may remember, my mother is anything but normal... or prude.

Which explains why she has cookie cutters of Santa that look like this:

She says it's supposed to be the trim of his coat. I say it looks like Santa shouldn't be around children. Same diff.

Yup. I literally made about 35 of those creepy little Santa freaks and I am not proud. (Okay, I kind of am proud due to the comedy gold that I was finding in it, but morally I am not proud!) So, I was also extra careful when spacing them out on the cookie sheet.

Mom: Emelie, you can put them closer together than that!

Me: Mother, we do not need these things looking any more inappropriate than the already do. I think some distance is mandatory. If I could give them each their own cookie sheet, I would.

Mom: Oh, Emelie. Stop being gross!

Me: Me?!?? I'm the one being gross??? I'm sorry, but someone was clearly not thinking in the cookie cutter factory that day. I'm just saying.

To back up my point, I sent that photo to John Hamm, Gumby, and Apollo

John Hamm: What the hell?

Gumby: I don't even know how that looks like Santa!!

Me: Welcome to life with my mother. Nothing is sacred.

I suspect that Apollo was too ashamed or embarrassed to reply. He is probably cursing me for having ruined the sanctity of Christmas or something. He is such a stickler.