And Once Again, My Mother, Ladies and Gentlemen...

So last night I was sitting at home and relaxing with some Netflix and my dog. It was perfect. And then I went to wash my face.

"Why do my eyes look different?" I thought to myself. And then I realized that it wasn't that my eyes look different, it's that MY FACE IS FRAKING SWOLLEN AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

So, I immediately texted my mother (because that's what you do in any emergency, and yes I count this as an emergency.), who is visiting my sister and niece in Chicago, which prompted this phone call:

Me: Hello?

Mom: What happened?

Me: I have no idea.

Mom: Is it allergies?

Me: I've never had an allergy! Why don't you know that? All I did today was go to work and eat mac and cheese!

Mom: Weird... Do you have some Benadryl?

Me: No...and everything's closed right now.

Mom: Alright, well... if it's still like that in the morning, go get some Benadryl and go to the doctor.

Me: I don't even know where there is a doctor... I've never needed one out here. I'M A CHILD.

Mom: Good God, Emelie...

Me: Anyway, how is Chicago?

Mom: Good. The baby has a fever.


Mom: Well, your sister and I are fine. We're just hanging out and drinking wine.

Me: Oh, maybe that's my issue. I was out of wine tonight. Maybe I'm having an allergic reaction to not having wine.

Mom: You're out of wine?!?!

Me: I know... I have failed you.

Mom: Well, that's obviously the problem. You need to fix that. Put that on your shopping list for tomorrow, too: Wine and Benadryl.

Sister in the background: What??? DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!!!

Me: Mom, you give the best advice.

Dear Life, I Will Stay Positive, So Just Stop Trying to Piss Me Off. You're Wasting Your Time.

So, the other day, I posted this on Facebook: Screen Shot 2014-02-27 at 4.21.43 PM

Day 1: I'm driving home and it's been a warm day, so I'm not thinking about ice. I go around a bend in the road and  suddenly my car is like "Yay!!! Let's go in circles!! Weeeeeee!!!!!!" and then the snow bank on the side of the road was like "STOP!"

I get myself straightened out and think "Okay, let's just get home, because we're right down the road. We'll check the car there."

I do just that and I'm amazed, but barely a scratch on the girl, so I sighed a sigh of relief and went inside to go to bed.

Apparently I should have been thinking about ice.

Day 2: My Jeep, Ramona, is all gruffy when I start her up. I'm all "Ramona, were you smoking last night?" and she's all "I'M SIIIIICK"

So, I call the mechanic as soon as I get home and make an appointment for my day off that week to bring the Jeep in to fix what I assume was my muffler.

I was wrong.

Day 3: I'm on my way to work and I start going up a hill. Ramona is wheezing like an asthmatic chain smoker and I'm reciting "The Little Engine That Could" to her in hopes that she'll pull through. That's when I slowed down and heard a "rrrrrrr-d-d--d-d----d--d--dderr....."

And then nothing. The car locked up. I couldn't even put it into neutral... so that's awesome.

The lucky thing (yes, there are lucky things in this situation) is that I broke down right outside of the church that I attend, so... I abandoned my vehicle in the middle of the road and ran inside to use the phone because I live in an area with no cell phone service (yaaaay...). First I called work and then I called the auto shop and then I ran back outside to hang out with my car again. As I was sitting on the hood and waiting for the tow truck, a cop shows up.

My mind: Oh please... let's just add a ticket to this...

Cop: Is this your car?

Me: Yeah...

Cop: Did you break down?

Me: No, I just thought the view was pretty here... Yeah, it just puttered out and stopped. It's totally locked up.

Cop: That sucks.

Me: Yeah...

So he hung out with me and made small talk until the tow truck showed up, which was nice, given the circumstances, and it kept me from having the stress induced break-down that I knew was on its way.

So the tow truck guy was nice and gave me a ride to work (because this girl shows up in style) and he was all "We'll call you at the store when we know what's up." and I was like "That is the kiss of death...."

So, all morning passes, and I hear nothing.

I go to lunch.

I come back and still nothing.

I call them.

Mechanic: Hello?

Me: Hi, it's Emelie at the book shop. You came and rescued me this morning in my Jeep Wrangler.

Mechanic: Yeah, the red one?

Me: Yeah.

Mechanic: Yeah... it doesn't sound good.

Me: I know, but you say that as if it's making sound, so that's good, right?

Mechanic: ...It needs a new engine.

Me: ...I'm sorry, what?

Mechanic: You heard right.

Me: Yaaaay.....

So then I got home that night and as I'm pulling in the driveway in my borrowed car I realize that my house keys are attached to my car keys, which are at the auto shop.... And that's how I found out that I can pick locks with bobby pins.

So, all in all, it was a pretty okay day. Right?

Okay, maybe not. It might sound like my life is crappy right now, BUT there are pros... and cons:

  • Pro: The mechanic said that it was clearly not a maintenance issue and that it was just a crappy situation. So, I was doing everything right.


  • Pro: No one was hurt.
  • Con: Except for Ramona (my car, for those of you who weren't paying attention). She's pretty hurt.


  • Pro: My pastor is awesome and happens to have a car to spare right now, so I'm not without transportation.
  • Con: Now I'm a nervous wreck while driving someone else's car.


  • Pro: I'm an optimist, so I always try and see the good side of things.
  • Con: Because I'm an optimist, life finds a way of trying to challenge me in that area.
  • Pro: I'm totally winning, so suck it, Life.





In other news, there's a new book review for Page Break, check it out here.


Someone Get Me My Prince and Mice. I Should Be On My Way to a Ball.

So, on weekends I work as a hostess and a really swanky wine bar/restaurant. I like this job because it involves wine it's a chance for me to look really nice every Saturday night, plus the people I work with give me wine are awesome. Most of the time.

This past Saturday, we had a couple that came in to celebrate their anniversary. Their dinner was being bought for them by a friend who had called and given us his credit card information over the phone.

So, at the beginning of the night, I handed their server the paper with the credit card number, as well as the greeting card that she was supposed to hand to the couple in lieu of their check.

Pretty straightforward, right? Apparently not.

Around 8:45 that night...

Server: Oh my gosh.

Me: What's up?

Server (rummaging through her pockets): Oh no....

Me: ...what?

Server: Emelie... I think... I threw away the credit card information for that table.

Me: No. You're joking.

Server: Nope. It's gone. I probably felt it and thought it was trash!

Me: Well.. when?

Server: I don't know! I've been slammed all night!

Me: Well... which trash can?

Server: Um... it could be in any of them!

Me: Okay... Um... Just go back to serving... I'm not doing much right now so I'll start digging.

And I did, duckies. I threw an apron on over my pretty dress, snapped on some latex gloves like an M.D., and went trash diving. Because I'm a dedicated employee.

I hid myself in the kitchen so that none of the customers could see me, because there's nothing less appetizing than a girl digging through the trash at the restaurant in which you're trying to have an upscale dining experience.

Cook: Emelie... what are you doing?

Me: Oh, you know... looking for food.

Cook: ...

Me: I'm looking for a piece of paper that has a credit card number on it.

Cook: Aw, that sucks, Cinderella.

Me: Yes. Yes it does. Especially since I'm a vegetarian and most of what I'm touching right now is chewed up animal carcass.

Cook: Yeah, makes you want to convert back to meat, doesn't it?

Me: Oh yeah, that's how you'll get me back. Make me dig through it all with my hands in the trash. Appetizing.

Cook: Yeah... we didn't think that one through...

So I continued to dig and dig until another server walked back to bring some dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Server #2: Emelie... what are you doing?

I explained.

Server #2: Oh man, that sucks!

Me: I know.

She left and then all of a sudden burst back through the door

Server #2: Wait... do you mean this?

She held out a piece of paper... the piece of paper.

Server #2: I found it on the ground like an hour ago and forgot to say anything because I was so busy!

Me: Yaaayyy...

So... I'd like my pumpkin carriage now, please. Or a prince... no glass slippers, though... that's just asking for disaster.

It's Like Having New Neighbors... Who Serve Me Wine When I Pay Them To.

So... a wine bar opened up literally right up the street from my house. As in, I can walk there in under 2 minutes. In other words, my life just got so much better while having the potential to become really very sad. I'm choosing to go with the former, because I'm a major How I Met Your Mother fan and they seemed to get along just fine by living above a bar, and that's just sound logic, Duckies.

Anyway... a few of us gathered at said wine bar last night, and I basked in the glory of the fact that I'd have to do zero driving (which meant that I could do a lot of refilling), while catching up on my friends' lives.

At one point, Topanga (who is a nurse in the ER) admitted to believing as a child that everyone died in the same position: laying down with their arms crossed peacefully over their chest.

Gumby: You never thought about people who died in car crashes?

Topanga: I don't know! I was four! I just figured that when you thought you were about to die, you assumed the position. This was quickly proven false, though, because my one friend was all "But Jesus died like this."

And then Topanga stood there with her arms out crucifixion style.

Because this is how we behave in classy wine bars.

This got me thinking, though, about all the weird shit that we believed as kids. I mean, never mind the fact that I was seriously disappointed when I turned twelve and had never received my letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but when I was a kid, I legitimately believed that my mom knew how to change traffic lights, because she would pretend to cast some spell with her hands, when all that she was really doing was paying attention to all the other lights. Like a logical person.

Actually, now that I'm writing all of this out, I think there's a great possibility that I just wanted to be a witch and I was looking for any proof I could find to back me up.

What about you? What weird stuff did you believe as a kid?


In other news, don't forget to send your relationship questions to for the new dating advice show on YouTube, "Awkwardly Wonderful Dating Advice" hosted by Rachel from Wandering Through Wonderland and myself! -- you'll totally remain anonymous and you'll get two hilarious chicks to help you out in your love life. Hopefully.

Have a happy Wednesday, duckies!

And Then I Thought About Reevaluating Some of My Standards... But Don't Worry, I Won't Follow Through.

On Friday nights, my friends and I venture out to a small wine bar that we've come to know and love. The owner of this place is an all around fantastic guy, and he even has hung up Jane's tessellation lanterns around the bar, which makes him a god in our eyes. Anyway... that is the set-up for this story.

John Hamm and I were at said wine bar after seeing a movie when we got the call from Jane that all of our friends were gathering at her apartment instead. So, we finished our glasses, bought a bottle of wine from awesome owner guy and headed on over.

Now, if you remember, Jane has two dogs. One German Shephard-Malamute mix Direwolf and one Welsh Corgi.



So, Kili is the Corgi. He's...a character? Yeah. A character. We'll go with "character" and by "character" I mean that he's really cute, but kind of a total turd at the same time. The stubby-legged guy has some mad hops, though, which is both impressive and frustrating at the same time. For example, when he jumps the gate of his play-pen and lands in your lap while your sitting in a papasan chair. You're impressed and hurt at the same time, due to claws on legs and such. It's very conflicting.

So, basically, the guy is ballsy. So, that night, we're all sitting around (I'm in the papasan) drinking wine and being awesome. At one point, I was telling a story that required me to have both hands free, so I set my glass down on the ground.


That turd-bird was faster than lightning. He scuttled on over and immediately began lapping up my wine. The worst part? I was the last to notice. Everyone else was just like "NOOOO!" and I was all "What? Oh! NOOOOO!!"

Luckily, it all happened so fast that I only lost like... 3 sips of wine.

And yes. I finished it. You don't waste wine in my family, people. That wouldn't be classy.

Also, spellcheck keeps insisting that "turd" is not a word. My response is my google search for the definition/spelling of "turd":

I'll Never Tell!!! ...Unless you maybe get me drunk...

A conversation with John Hamm last night: Me: John Hamm! I drunkenly ordered something on the internet last night.

John Hamm: ...seriously? What was it?

Me: I can't tell you.

John Hamm: Why would you even bring it up!??

Me: Well I just can't tell you yet because there's too many people around!

John Hamm: ...

Me: Fine *whispers purchase in John Hamm's ear*

John Hamm: ...WHY????!?

Me: Well, Jessica bought one, so then Sara bought one, so I wanted to be supportive, so I bought one.

John Hamm: ...You guys are so weird.

Me: Well, I had to tell someone and I can't very well blog about it!

John Hamm: I thought that's what you started blogging for: So you could talk about all the things that I don't want to know!

And then I laughed so hard that I wrote all of this down.


And no, you'll never know what I purchased. But feel free to guess!!