Okay. I can do this. I can write you a blog post that is worth everyone's time, and it will not devolve into me declaring the demise of Advertising, either by the cold hand of modern technology or of my own.
So guess what guys??? I have two enormous bruises on my right hip. Things that I blame:
As Glee so deliciously put it last week, I mainly blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol, baby. In that episode, they seemed to have a hard time coming up with a danger of alcohol as long as you have a DD. I am here to tell you (but I cannot SHOW you, as these bruises are in a precarious position and I'm a lady) that alcohol definitely has dangers, even when a car is no where in sight. Let me expound on this by telling you what else I blame:
2. Tommy Wiseau
A week or so ago, we went to see 'The Room'. For those who don't know, The Room is a newish cult-classic. And when I say "classic" I mean that it will burn itself into your brain so you will never fully be able to scrub it out of your memory, no matter how hard you try.
Yes. The Room is considered one of the worst movies of all time. Made in the same year as "From Justin To Kelly" and "Gigli", those movies become "Casablanca" and "Citizen Cane" in comparison. The Room was written, starred, directed, produced, and distributed by one man: Mr. Tommy Wiseau, who defied all people who said the movie was bad (and by that I mean: all people said the movie was bad) and used his own mystery money to get the whole thing produced.
Here is one classic scene. You guys are going to love it.
Yeah. YEAH. Do you feel that? That's the tingling of love.
So all this to say, they have showings of the movie, similar to Rocky Horror, where people dress up, bring props, throw things, and yell at the screen. And people may or may not COUGHsneakCOUGH COUGHalcoholCOUGH into the theater. Well, after the movie was over, we were walking slowly out of the theater. And I've decided there is nothing worse than trying to intentionally walk slowly while tipsy. Might as well have put me on a freaking balance beam. Aaaaand I slipped. Onto the side of a theater seat.
MORE THINGS I BLAME:
Were we walking next to each other? YES.
Is Joe a big strong man with a beard more powerful than Thor and He-Man combined? YES.
Did Joe manage to catch me? NO.
Game set match. Point, Emily. Gave over. End of game.
4. My Inability To Stand Like A Normal Person
Last weekend, I went to Tom's (Laura's boyfriend...'s) lake house. Where we proceeded to drink COUGHalcoholCOUGH COUGHlegally and safelyCOUGH but which left me slightly off-balance once again. And it was a lake house, so of course there was still sand in some places. Have you ever sprinkled sand on bathroom tile and then tried to walk across it? Well I HAVE. Slip number 2. Same side. Nearly the same place.
I kid you not, I look like I got into a fight with a baseball and LOST. I have two enormous bruises, side by side. BFFs. Just hanging out like it's no big thang. I think this is a new low, clumsiness-wise, even for me. It is, and I am not joking about this, one of my largest arguments against my ability to own children right now. That, and the fact that I refer to them as something I might 'own.'
Sigh. I'm going to go ice these bad boys down.