We'll Have A Brain Fart Time

So I know I promised I'd still be blogging, and I totally am, but I'm having a bit of a brain fart time of it right now. I keep trying to say something insightful about how things are starting to look up, but it gets RULL boring, RULL quick. Either that, or I become one of the people that I hated only a week ago--the people who are too damn happy for their own good and need to quit making the rest of us Normies feel bad.

Side note: I'm SUPER into the non-word "Normies" right now. I'm considering using it until it catches on. It'll be so fetch, just you watch.

So anyway...brain farts and all that. I'm not sure what else to write about at the moment, but I promise I'll be around.

Also, since the Golden Globes were last night, can we talk about Aunt Meryl for a moment? Well, less of talking about her and more just...let's just acknowledge her existence with a moment of silence.

....

Also, Colin Firth. As I tweeted, that man is a dapper son of a bitch. We all know he is on the short list of men I would marry, but despite his growing age and/or jowls, I think he might be climbing to the top of the list, even past Future Husband John Krasinski, who, despite my best efforts, is still married to that damn British chippy.

But let's consider both of these things:







I mean...that's just...come on, now.

Anyway, this is really all I have for now. Quotes from Colin Firth. Sorry. Maybe an update this week about the job and how it's going? OH! Also, Joe and I just bought tickets to see a screening of The Dark Crystal in February and WHO is going to be there? Oh that's right, Dave Goelz--NO BIG DEAL, HANNAH.

Who I Think Will Win The Emmys

Well the Emmy noms have been announced and I know you're all wondering, "Yes, but what does EMILY think about all this?" Because, yeah. I should be your go-to for all things celebrity. I know SO VERY MUCH about them and the lives they lead. Oh, the things I know. My stars.

In all seriousness you might find my opinions about as necessary to your life as stories about where Freddie Prinze Jr. is now (Actually...wait a minute. Where IS that guy?! Bad analogy, now I find myself INCREDIBLY concerned about the whereabouts of FPJ.)

But it's my blog. And in the wise words of Cartman, I do what I want. So here we go!

BEST DRAMA SERIES: Boardwalk Empire, Friday Night Lights, Dexter, Game of Thrones, The Good Wife, Mad Men.

I don't watch any of these shows, but if B.E. is the show that's supposed to knock Mad Men off its high horse, so be it.

BEST COMEDY SERIES: Modern Family, 30 Rock, Glee, The Office, The Big Bang Theory, Parks and Recreation.

Except for the BBT (CBS shows and I...we just don't get along), I watch all of these shows with a blind fervor. And while I loves me some Office, anyone who actually watches Thursday TV should know that in 2011, Community, which wasn't even nominated, was head and shoulders above the Office and that is a scientific fact.

DRAMA ACTRESS: Julianna Margulies, The Good Wife; Elisabeth Moss, Mad Men; Mariska Hargitay, Law & Order: SVU; Kathy Bates, Harry’s Law; Connie Britton, Friday Night Lights and Mireille Enos, The Killing.

Elisabeth Moss, you're not all that with your short bangs and your lipstick ads (okay, fine, I haven't watched Mad Men since Season 2 and I have no idea what's going on in that show even though I am in Advertising and should definitely watch it. GET OFF MY BACK ABOUT IT, WHAT ARE YOU, MY DENTIST? I'LL FLOSS WHEN I'M GOOD AND READY TO FLOSS. Is it so wrong to want Kathy Bates to win because you think she'd be the kind of straight-talking aunt who tells it like it is and isn't afraid to tell off your new boyfriend at Christmas when she finds out he has no plans after college? IS IT?) Oh my God, where am I?


COMEDY ACTRESS: Tina Fey, 30 Rock; Edie Falco, Nurse Jackie; Amy Poehler, Parks and Recreation; Laura Linney, The Big C; Martha Plimpton, Raising Hope; Melissa McCarthy, Mike & Molly.

Oh but Melissa McCarthy! Sookie. I love you. I even love you when you are pooping in a sink, THAT is how much I love you. But Amy Poehler winning an Emmy is as close as I will ever get to winning an Emmy.

DRAMA ACTOR: Jon Hamm, Mad Men; Steve Buscemi, Boardwalk Empire; Kyle Chandler, Friday Night Lights; Michael C. Hall, Dexter; Hugh Laurie, House; Timothy Olyphant, Justified.

Whatever you want, Jon Hamm. I'll just....it doesn't...whatever I can do to make you happy. You look like Superman.

COMEDY ACTOR: Steve Carell, The Office; Alec Baldwin, 30 Rock; Jim Parsons, Big Bang Theory; Matt LeBlanc, Episodes, Louis C.K., Louie; Johnny Galecki, Big Bang Theory.

Although I think it would be awesome if Louis C.K. won it, The Emmys has become as predictable as an SVU episode. So yes, I think Michael's last season will win him the Emmy. Also, aw! Joey! *Pats Matt LeBlanc on his now-silver head*


SUPPORTING DRAMA ACTOR: Andre Braugher, Men of a Certain Age; John Slattery, Mad Men; Alan Cumming, The Good Wife; Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones; Josh Charles, The Good Wife; Walton Goggins, Justified.

One time I had a dream about some actor but I couldn't even remember his name or what he was in, I just remembered he was the guy who kind of looked like Pee Wee Herman. Joe suggested "Alan Cumming" and I realized that was it. We went out to breakfast. Who was on the TV at the restaurant? Alan Cumming. That is all.

SUPPORTING COMEDY ACTOR: Ty Burrell, Modern Family; Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Modern Family; Ed O’Neill, Modern Family; Eric Stonestreet, Modern Family; Jon Cryer, Two and a Half Men; Chris Colfer, Glee.

I don't know guys...I just have a feeling about this one. And can I get a HECK YES to the Modern Family love? *does the Baby Mama exercise ball "Oooh-OOOOOOH!"* Oh my God, I can't even talk about OTHER CATEGORIES without mentioning Amy Poehler.

SUPPORTING COMEDY ACTRESS: Julie Bowen, Modern Family; Sofia Vergara, Modern Family; Jane Lynch, Glee; Betty White, Hot in Cleveland; Kristen Wiig, Saturday Night Live; Jane Krakowski, 30 Rock.

Was that...was that a question?
But GOD I seriously want to awkwardly hold hands with ALL these women.

SUPPORTING DRAMA ACTRESS: Archie Panjabi, The Good Wife; Kelly Macdonald, Boardwalk Empire; Christine Baranski, The Good Wife; Michelle Forbes, The Killing; Margo Martindale, Justified; Christina Hendricks, Mad Men.

She deserves some recognition besides "YOWZA, HAVE YOU SEEN THE GAZONGAS ON THAT THING?!" But I also want her to become a spokeswoman against Victoria's Secret

MOVIE OR MINISERIES: Mildred Pierce, HBO; Downtown Abbey, PBS; The Kennedys, ReelzChannel; Cinema Verite, HBO; Too Big To Fail, HBO; Pillars of the Earth, Starz.

I don't know...whatever. I don't mess with Scientologists. I have seen their Hollywood compound.

REALITY COMPETITION: So You Think You Can Dance, Top Chef, The Amazing Race, American Idol, Dancing With the Stars, Project Runway.

My biggest reason for choosing this show is because I am currently very hungry. But it's also the only show of these that doesn't make me do the Liz Lemon eye roll.


REALITY HOST: Jeff Probst, Survivor; Cat Deeley, So You Think You Can Dance; Phil Keoghan, Amazing Race; Tom Bergeron, Dancing With the Stars; Ryan Seacrest, American Idol.

Tom Bergeron, you will NEVER be Bob Saget. NEVER. (wait for it) NEVER. That's all I wanted to say. Otherwise whatever. Because WHY is this an actual Emmy category? Who cares??

VARIETY, MUSIC, OR COMEDY SERIES: The Colbert Report, Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, Saturday Night Live, Conan, Real Time with Bill Maher, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Again, just a feeling. Don't have a good reason. I just gots me that tingly feeling about it.

Okay, that is all. Anyone want to fight me about it? What are your opinions? Who do you want to win? I want to know!

Date Night Lessons: Tacos Are Bad, Pixar is Good.

This Friday Joe and I had our first Date Night as a cohabiting couple.

Question: Don't you see each other every day?
Answer: Um, yes?

Question: Ohhh, but going to the gym and making curry chicken and falling asleep does not a romantic couple make?
Answer: Correctamundo.

Question: What if you watch a few episodes of Gilmore Girls while you eat? Is it a date then?
Answer: Oh, YOU.

So! First we decided on a restaurant: a nice Mexican joint with a name that is similar to "zapatos" but is not. I keep calling it Zapatitos, which really just means "little shoes." Which is ADORABLE and the future name of my awesome Mexican restaurant for toddlers. It'll be a hit.

But once we got to Zapatitos, we discovered it was INSANE. I mean, yeah. Friday at 7, I guess you can expect that. But it was craziness. Our waitress explained that there was a group of 80 off behind the curtained area, hence the added chaos. Whatever. We ordered fancy tacos. Later, a bunch of emergency trucks pulled up and casual firemen (suspenders, muscles, that kind of thing) walked in. The waitress decided we were cool enough to let us know that the party of 80 was ACTUALLY Ashley Simpson and her husband, Fallout Boy. Or whoever. And the emergency vehicles were because one of her friends passed out and had to be hooked up to an IV.

And OF COURSE she did.

I'm sorry, but is there anything surprising to you about the sentence, "Ashley Simpson and her posse are creating a low-key annoyance on my life."

No, there is not. I can tell you right now that there is not.

So whatever. The steak/bacon tacos were good, the chicken ones were eh, we paid and made our way to the theater for the most mature date night movie ever: Toy Story 3.

NO SPOILERS TO BE ALERTED FOR. I PROMISE TO BE GOOD.

I don't have to tell you that the movie was amazing. I mean, Pixar. Come on. And I don't have to tell you that Stepdad Tom Hanks turned in a magnificent performance. Don Rickles was hilarious, Ernest Becomes A Slinky Dog was confusing (BUT! BUT! You died?!...wait, right? No wait, you're alive. No wait....you're dead.)
Really, the whole gang was great. And oh, the hijinks!

The important thing was, like after ANY Toy Story movie, I completely freaked out that I didn't appreciate my toys enough when I had them, that I didn't treat them well when I became older, and that whatever happened to them, they are sad to feel unloved and without their friends.

Which, I understand, it's all a made-up concept by the people of Pixar. And there are plenty of other people whose idea was to make toys come alive and kill you in the night. But I grew up with Toy Story. When the first one came out, I was at the perfect age. I was in the fifth grade. I was becoming jaded and growing up. And my toys were becoming less of a play-thing and more of a pile in a corner. HOW COULD I?!?!?! I remember the day I saw that movie, I took all my stuffed animals and set them up with me in the bed. There was juuuuuuust enough room for me.

This is what Toy Story has done. Okay, maybe I have an extended imagination. Or maybe that's why I'm a copywriter. Either way, Joe and I are currently up to our necks in He-Man, Ninja Turtles, and teddy bears (the Turtles are mine, by the by.) All of whom I feel the need to apologize to, just in case I took away all their friends--OR MY MOTHER DID--*glare, glare*

So yes. That was my weekend. I spent the majority of my time making sure that all my toys were comfortable and among friends. The rest of my weekend was spent in the bathroom, as a direct result of those damn Ashely Simpson-ruined tacos. Something ain't right at Zapatitos.



PS. I encourage comments. I GREATLY enjoy them. Always. Please leave some and be my friend. But please no TS3 spoilers. Especially don't mention the *wink wink* or the *nudge nudge, say no more, say no more*.

New Family Member Induction

Michelle and I have discussed it, and we would like to welcome a new adopted family member into our homes!

Everyone please give a big hug and a glass of chardonnay to Great Aunt Betty White!

We decided she's a little too spunky for Grandmother status, but she'd make a great addition to family parties, especially in the way of being uncomfortably honest in only the way an old great aunt can. Here's to hoping Great Aunt Betty White outs a cousin or announces how ugly the new baby is!

*Cheers*

Tom Hanks. Prom Hanks. Blarg.

I am so sad at this moment.

So the place that I am a volunteer tutor at? The one through which I did the mustache-a-thon with Adrienne? They are hosting a dance of some sort. A fundraising thingy. And they themed it. The theme? Prom Hanks.

Prom.













Hanks.

And despite the fact that I want to take that name to the nearest courthouse and have a civil ceremony with it...I can't go. I've known I can't go for a while because I've known about it for a while and known that it was this weekend, where I am going to go see Michelle. Which is still great, and I am totally looking forward to. I was just going to chalk it up as "Huh. Cute name. Oh well. I don't really know any of the other tutors anyway." and I was prepared to move on. Even if my guy-friend crush was going to be there. I had made my peace with it.

But I just found out that the real Tom Hanks found out about the dance and he sent a bunch of signed things for a silent auction, including a signed Wilson volleyball.


(this isn't the ball, but it's the only proof they sent me that it's true)

There are tears welling up in my eyes right now and I wish I was joking.

Pop quiz: When I watched Cast Away and Steel Magnolias in one day, which part did I cry at?
A) Julia Roberts dying, or
B) Wilson floating away?

I will give you one guess. Hint, it's not a.

My Facebook profile lists "Tom Hanks" as one of my favorite movies. Tom Hanks is...he's more than an adopted uncle. He is an adopted stepfather. But the kind of stepfather that you grow to love as a member of your own flesh-and-blood. He is the Liam Neeson to my Creepy Blonde Kid from Love Actually. This is who Tom Hanks is to me. When Tom Hanks is sad, I am sad. When Tom Hanks has a Russian accent, I have a Russian accent. When Tom Hanks wants to write, direct, and star in a movie, I want to give him a bear hug and thank him for bringing Steve Zahn into my world.

Okay, I need to pull myself together. I really am going to have a great weekend with Michelle. And who's to say I could have afforded any of the silent auction things? Plus, you all know how it would have ended. It would have been me rushing over to the table of Tom Hanks memorabilia like a kid who is told they can have anything they want from the candy counter. They would end up dragging me away because I was rubbing my face against all the items, And I would be reaching toward the signed volleyball screaming "WILSOOOOOOOOOON!!! WILL!!!! SONNNNNNNNNN!!! WAAAALT--i mean--WILSONNNNN!!!!!"

It's better this way.

On The Road To Rich And Famous

Whoah. No post today. I have been recruited to write a pitch for a Nickelodeon-type show. Yeah, let that one sink into your bones right there. This producer I worked with last year recommended me to help write a little synopsis for a show starring a 15-year-old girl.

Who has two thumbs and remembers high school like it was yesterday? This girl. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

So see you guys later...I'm taking my first steps toward acting with Aunt Meryl. (It's a process.)(God, I love her.)(Breathe, Emily.)

Why Vice President Biden Needs To Be My Grandpa

Okay. Breathing again. I came in early to work yesterday, posted that blog, then wrote up a kick-ass script. I then proceeded to not be able to top it for 8 hours, and as of this moment it is still alive. But I definitely had a good 12 hours of freak out-ery.

Now, this morning when I came in, as I awaited my peppermint latte (Hooray! Someone who doesn’t think “mint” is a Christmas flavor!!) my eye caught a sub-line…byline? The Line That’s Not A Headline?...anyway, and it informed me that Vice President Biden dropped an f-bomb recently when he thought the mic wouldn’t pick it up.

And I just want to say, God bless America, and God bless Joseph R. Biden.

This is not a political blog. Nor do I ever—EVER—want it to become one. I do not want to talk about Biden’s beliefs. I do not want to talk about ANYONE’S beliefs. Mostly because I think all people of the world fall into two camps:

1. They don’t know enough about what they’re talking about to actually have a proper opinion.

2. They do know enough. So now they're lying.

I’m going to go right ahead and assume that I, and everyone else who reads this blog (and let's be honest, probably Joe Biden,) falls into the #1 camp. Except all those CIA agents who are reading me to make sure I don’t spill the beans on Code Chicken Feather—I’VE SAID TOO MUCH!!!

What I mean to say is, politics aside, Joe Biden cracks my shit up. And I wish to the high heavens that he was my grandpa. IN FACT…

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, JOE!

REVISED ADOPTED FAMILY LIST:
Aunt Meryl Streep
Uncle Rick Steves
Grandpa Carl Reiner
Grandma Maya Angelou
Grandpa Joe Biden

Man, I really hope no other old men weasel their way into my heart, because I have no grandpa spots left.

Here’s the thing. My own grandfathers were a little MIA in my life. One of them passed away years before I was born (Although I do have a hilarious picture of him demonstrating how to wear a bridle for my mom’s stubborn horse. Damn him and his love of cigarettes.) And the other one was…quiet. He was a good guy, sure. But he was pretty solitary. In fact, I only have one memory of him saying something to me:

Katie and I were young, about 5 and 8. We were visiting my Grandpa and Grandma, and playing in their backyard as the sun went down. It was that time of year when the caterpillars were out. Whatever time of year that is. And Katie and I were having a field day finding them. We started collecting those orange and black fuzzy ones (the ones that I now know turn into moths. But at the time, I’m not sure I knew they turned into anything.) We put them all onto the underside of a Frisbee and ran around the yard yelling, “I found one here! Mom, look! Another one!” and then sprinted back to add it proudly to the collection. When we’d collected enough to practically cover the Frisbee, we bounced over to our grandpa. “Poppa! Look how many we got!”

Poppa scrutinized the Frisbee. He rubbed his chin. Holding out his hand, he said, “Let me see that.” We proudly handed it over.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

My grandfather smashed the Frisbee against a tree over and over, euthanizing every one of our precious, fuzzy caterpillars. Katie and I stared, mouths gaping, horrified at the malicious injustice before us.

I ran back to my mom who tried to calm me, telling me they were just moths; Poppa just didn’t want all those moths in his yard. I suppose I forgave him, I don’t really remember. But “Let me see that” is the only sentence I remember him saying directly to me (though I’m sure there are more.) And that has to say something for forgiveness.

This entire story to tell you…I need a Grandpa Biden in my life. I need the kind of grandpa who’ll hitch up his pants, squint one eye, and tell you it’s those damn gays who planted the dinosaur bones. Not that Biden would say those things (although, with a mental deterioration that rivals Flowers for Algernon, you really never know.)

I need a Grandpa who took public transportation uphill both ways. I need a Grandpa who understands the importance of a good fart joke. I need a Grandpa who thinks “fucking” is a verb AND an adjective.

I need a Grandpa Biden. AND. HOW.

A Year In Review

Wow. Another year down, 91 more to go. I've decided that I have a new goal, and that is to live to 116 and be able to say I lived in 3 different centuries. Although by the time I'm 116 I don't imagine I'll know what's going on around me anymore. But I'll be in the futuristic newspapers, and that's what's important.

2009. Two...thousand...nine. Sigh. 2009 was like this girl I used to work with who was always nice to me so I could never technically complain, but somehow I always got the feeling that she was a mean bitch who was out to get me. That was 2009.

I lost my job and never found a new one (that's that mean bitch part), but I had a lot of fun this year, made a lot of friends, and also managed to snag a boy that people actually approve of. Which is apparently a huge accomplishment for me. I consider myself a smart girl, but when it comes to picking boys... Are you chauvinistic? Drunk? Jealous? Live on the other side of the world? Well hand me an oar and let's get this sinking ship a-rowin'!

But that's all changed now. And, while the job thing is not-so-much, I feel like I've still come somewhere. I know who I am much better, and I like where and who I am. Right before I went to write this post, I found this quote:

"Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it." --Maya Angelou

Ms. Angelou, welcome to my honorary extended family.
REVISED LIST:
Aunt Meryl Streep
Uncle Rick Steves
Grandpa Carl Reiner
Grandma Maya Angelou

ANYWAY, Grandma Maya Angelou is right. I especially think this because her quote means I am successful. Phew. Thank God.

I believe when I look back on 2009 in the future, I will remember it as a good year. Especially if I can find a job that makes this yearlong break worth it. And that is still to be seen.

TOMORROW: Looking Ahead to 2010, or, Holy Shit Things Are About To Change.