50 Finger 'Stache Official Results

Welp! Adrienne and I FINALLY presented our 50 finger 'staches yesterday. It was supposed to be last week but The Storm Of Insanity (not to be confused with The Cliffs of Insanity) kept us all in our houses.

Here's the entire thing. Look how pretty!!


And here are the winners. *Awkward Michael Scott Drumroll*
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrr....brrrrrr....rrrrrrr....

RUNNER UP:


SECOND PLACE:


FIRST PRIZE:



AND SECRET ASSISTANT TO THE FIRST PRIZE (brought to you by Regina Phalange):


Sadly, our efforts did not win us a prize, but you guys should have SEEN the great stuff people brought in. The winner made an entire (BOUND) coloring book. Someone else made pins. Someone else made 50 drawings that were good enough that Adrienne and I both bought one off of her at $5 each. That does NOT, however, mean that we don't appreciate the effort that you guys put into your finger 'staches, and we thank you VERY much. Wow, I'm really into the CAPS today. I regret nothing.

Of course, if you can donate a bit (a dollar, five...a million, whatever) to the cause, which is a tutoring center in inner-city Chicago, that makes you even more splendorrific. Go to "Collabostache" and donate your heart out.

Some of My Favorite 'Staches Thus Far

Think you can do better? Send yours to iheartejs@gmail.com. We only need 10 more!
(To know why, check out this blog post from Monday.)

Fifty Mustaches

Soooooooooo, you know how Adrienne and I like to do weird things to raise money for the children?

Well we're at it again! This time, it's back to Mustache-a-thon, because OH YES, it's been a whole year since we did that. Time flies when you're keeping kids off the street. Am I right or am I right? Right? Right. Right. #groundhogdayreferences

So, for those new to the Emily's Blog Scene, the Mustache-a-thon is a fundraiser. Dudes grow mustaches, and people pledge money to them to keep them going and make them feel less like Stanley Tucci in Lonely Bones. And the money goes to a tutoring center in Chicago. It's a great idea...except it discludes (unincludes? uncludes? MOVING ON) half the world's population from being able to raise money. So they have a separate category for "prosthetic" growers, who have a mustache-related challenge to accomplish each week. And people can donate to them as well.

To extra complicate things, Adrienne and I formed a team called Collabostache and we try to raise money and awareness together. A little extra fun for us, a little extra money for the childrenz.

REQUEST TIME!!
Obviously if you would like to donate to the worthy, worthy, WORTHY cause, you can go here, find Collabostache (which, coincidentally is a picture of me holding a fake Adrienne that I constructed out of a pita chip, carrot, hummus, and pretzels because she had to work) and donate.

BUT! SOMETHING BETTER!!
If you have no money but still enjoy helping disadvantaged kids learn to read, you can do something that costs nothing but would help us out a TON. See, our challenge for next week is to collect/create/find 50 mustaches, in whatever way we see fit. Adrienne came up with the idea of finger mustaches. SO ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS: Take a picture of yourself holding up a finger mustache and send it to me. I have a handy-dandy email address over there to the right that'll work just fine. Or if you like Adrienne better (as we all truly do) you can also send it to her, given that you know her. Otherwise, please don't send her things. That'd be weird. Don't be like that.

So that's it. Money or mustaches. OR BOTH! GET CRAZY WITH IT!! Hey, I'll sweeten the deal. Best mustache gets a dedicated blog post. Here's mine; think you can beat it?

I tried to get Future Husband John Krasinski with "GOALS" written under it into this pic, but it was a no go. You'll just have to picture it in your minds. Also, we will discuss those bangs ANOTHER DAY.

Words With Friends

Bout that time, eh chaps? Right-o.

It's time for another gathering offffffff *awkward Michael Scott drumroll* brrrrrrrrrrrr....brrrrrrrr...brr...

COLLABOSTACHE!!

"Hubba wha? Are you and Adrienne doing that mustache thing again that didn't really make sense because you are girls," you ask?

No. No we are not. But Adrienne and I are gathering again for another charitable fun day of fun through the same organization, CHI 826. This go around, we have entered ourselves in Scrabble For Cheaters.



The way it works is: We collect money from friends and loved ones, ALL of which goes to the after-school tutoring program for kids in Chicago. But what's FUN about the money we collect is that we get to use it to cheat at Scrabble and become the Ultimate Cheating Scrabble Champions Of The World.

Certain cheats cost certain amounts of money. The list is as follows:

$25: THE SWAP: Trade out a letter
$50: THE NON-CON: buy a vowel
$100: THE BLANK: Flip a letter over and make it blank
$150: THE AUGMENT: Add 10 points to any letter to increase its value
$200: THE ALSORANS: Add Q, Z, or X to any word
$250: THE KOSHKA: play a word in any non-English language
$300: THE CONFER: Consult the dictionary for one turn
$400: THE SPURN: Reject an opponent's word for no reason
$500: THE WEBSTER: Invent a word (must have definition)

Personally, I am a fan of "The Augment" because it's cheap and I am a KILLER at using the right letters in the right places. I didn't get a bazillion points on "equaling" because there was a "q" in it, people.

For her part, Adrienne is hoping to raise enough to get to use The Spurn because, and I quote, "It's the most dramatic cheat." I am imagining the two of us waiting patiently as someone puts down "quiz" in a triple word score. We look slowly at each other, our eyes squinting slyly. Simultaneously we stand up, pointing at the opposing team: "SPUUUUUUURN!!!!" we shout, probably accidentally knocking over the board and ruining everything, but it would all be worth it for the drama of The Spurn.

We've also decided to learn Polish and Italian between now and the tournament so we can use multiple Z's with The Koshka. And Adrienne has promised to brush up on her Yiddish (in truth, I don't know if she knows any) so we can use a million vowels if we have to, too. Oy vey....Mashugana? And I'm out.

So of course, I am asking for donations. Go here if you'd like to contribute (scroll down to Collabostache. You will know us by our Bob Dole picture.) If you're into supporting children with their doe eyes, do it for that. If you're into supporting me kicking some serious Scrabble ass (and some of you know from personal experience that it's possible) then donate for that reason. But no matter what, you are contributing greatly to a night of fun for me, and a lifetime of better grades for the kids.

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.

Mustache Thanks: Mommy Dearest

As promised, those of you who donated to the mustache cause over the last few weeks will be blessed with your very own blog post. I won't do them all this week because I've got a few other ideas up my sleeve (including a new Bible post, huzzah!)

But today will mark the very first Thank You Post. And first up is my mother. Of course she gets first dibs; the woman had to put up with me from the very beginning. While she was pregnant, I stuck around for two extra weeks, which I'm sure she appreciated (What? It was warm in there.) And then generally wreaked havoc until I was about twenty. Last night, my mom told me that she used to buy me scotch tape to keep me entertained. Not going to lie, I'm pretty sure that's all you'd need TODAY. I'd be all, "Hmm, there's nothing on TV besides Meet The Browns...guess I'll just sit here and unroll some tape. Zzzzzzzip! Zzzzzzzip! *Tee hee!*"

Now, you've already gotten one Mom story here. And there are certainly many to come, I'm sure.

So for this post, I want to share a story of my Mom that my aunt told me. It might be my favorite story about her to date. (Oh no wait..there's one more. Okay, TWO mom stories today!) I'm sure she'll be thrilled by both of these.

Okay the first one takes place in the 50's. My mom is, say, three. I've seen pictures; she was seriously adorable: auburn pigtails, freckles, light blue eyes. Adorable, that little Susie. Now little Susie, being young and impressionable, knows only one song. Just one. And that song is the theme to the television show, Wyatt Earp.



And who says television is ruining children? Well, they were right. But it's been happening for decades.

Every Sunday, my mom would skip to church along with the rest of her family. But because Wyatt Earp is the only song that my mom knew, that's the one she sang. Every time. Meaning, while everyone else is singing, say, "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God"...



...Little Susie is belting out a song about the kindly cowboy from Kansas.

Well, as you can imagine, eventually the hymn ends. The organ echoes it's last note, everyone closes their hymn books and sits back down. Welp, sorry folks! But the Wyatt Earp theme song is still going strong! Everyone turns around to see this little girl standing on the pew, belting out, "Wyyyyyatt Earp! Wyyyyyat Earp! Brave, courageous and BOLD! Long live his name and long live his glory and long may his story be toooooold!"


The second story of my mom is much more recent. I think about five years or so. And once again, it's a story I can only relay because I wasn't there.

My parents and two younger siblings went to see a movie together. Afterward, they decided to go to Baker's Square for some pie. Yum. So they're in the elevator on their way to the car in the parking garage. And the conversation goes as follows:

Dad: Well I thought that movie was pretty good.
Hannah: Yeah, I really liked how the main character changed at the end.
John: And the soundtrack was really great.
*silence*
Mom: .........Pie.

I don't know WHY this story makes me laugh so hard, but despite not having been there, I cannot repeat that story without cracking up. It's one of those where I just start laughing in the middle of telling it before I even get to the punchline, so by the time I actually say the word "pie" I'm completely unintelligible and anyone listening is laughing just because I'm laughing, but really they have no idea what the hell is so funny.

So those are my two Mom stories! I guess thanking my mom by telling two mildly embarrassing stories about her is not EXACTLY a proper thank-you, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity. Of course she was and is a magnificent mom, and I love her very very much. But in my defense, she has always been the greatest supporter of my creativity and writing.

......Pie.

Friday Procrastination Brought to you by: Others!

Sorry, guys. Today looks like another light post day. I have things to do, what can I say? It's a strange thing for me, too.

But you all really pulled through on the mustache donations! Sadly, we didn't win any prize--either for most money earned or most creativity, though it's generally acknowledged that we WERE the fan favorite. And the important thing, especially, is that it's for the children. Who WILL benefit from your help.

So it appears that next week will begin my quest to post about all you lovely people who donated! (And Adrienne will be starting on a few logos as well.) Who to start with? Who to start with? Hmmm....let me mull it over. While I do that, check out these random links from my Bookmarks. Because, frankly, someone's got to waste away your day, and it can't be me today.

Plants can tweet!
Your new daily webcomic, Natalie Dee.
What to do with that organic, cage-free Greek yogurt sausage from TJ's
Barcodes, but FUN!
Who knew organs could be so cute?
And last but not least (trust me on that):
Everything you need before embarking on a potluck.

Have a great weekend!

Poems About Mustaches. For the Children.

THE WORLD IS ENDING EVERYONE'S GOING TO DIE AND I HAVE THE ONLY CURE SO LOOK OVER HERE NOW QUICK!!!!!!

Okay, none of that is true, just wanted y'all to LISTEN UP.

Today is the last day of the Mustache-a-thon! Get pumped. Do the mashed potato. Now the twist. Now the monkey. Okay now stop.

I have spent multiple times explaining what the M-a-thon is, but here it is one more time:
-Doing mustache-related things.
-To raise money.
-For an inner city children's tutoring program, called "826."
-If you donate $5, I'll write a blog post about you.
-If you donate $10+, I'll write the post, and Adrienne will design you a personal logo.

Where to donate? RIGHT HERE. scroll down until you see pictures. Adrienne and I are Collabostache (four over, two down). Donate away! This is our last chance! (Technically you can donate for one more week, but if you do it by 7pm (central time...you kids in Boston get until 8.) then we get all the glory at our meeting tonight. After that, no glory. But the children will still appreciate it.)

Still need a reason to donate? Well, our challenge for tonight was to do something mustache-related in a performance kind of way.

So I wrote a "that's good/that's bad" poem (Like: "I went to the store." "That's good!" "But they were out of milk." "That's bad." etc) and it's all about the 'stache.

And Adrienne has made mustaches for people to attire themselves with when bad or good things happen. See?



And here is the poem to accompany them. (Ahem ahem ahem):

Today I wore my brown mustache
It’s crooked on my lip.
But when Da Bearsss scored seven points
It did a stache backflip.

Today I wore my thick mustache
That curls up at the ends
It makes me look so very bad
Bad-ASS that is, my friends.

Today I wore my little stache
That makes me say Oui, Oui!
I look just like a rich arteest!
But, also, a pansy.

Today I wore my blonde mustache
That reaches to my jaw
It put me in the perfect mood
To promptly break the law

Today I wore a small mustache
To look like Chaplin’s Tramp
But once I lost my bowler hat,
It turned to Nazi stamp.

Today I wore no stache at all
And that is just the pits
But luckily I raised some dough
For kids at 826.

So go here, donate, and wait for your lovely, lovely blog post.

Whoring My Blog Out...For the Children.

Note: if you're not exactly 'the reading type,' I'd suggest scrolling on down to "RECAP" where the most important info lies. The rest is just life.

Happy Friday to all!

So check it, check it. BOY am I glad I got up the gumption to put on pants yesterday--TWICE, might I add.

Baby steps.

I'm glad because Adrienne and I pulled out a rock star performance yesterday at the weekly Mustache-a-thon meeting.

Summary of what the hell I'm talking about:

- I tutor at a place for inner city kids.
- To raise money, they are having a mustache-growing contest.
- We meet at a bar each week to check in.
- For the upper-lip impaired, a creative, mustache-related project is presented each week.
- Adrienne and I cheated slightly and have become "partners in mustache."
- Last week, we took pictures of cupcakes with mustaches traveling through the world.
- The point of us doing these projects is to inspire people to donate to this tutoring center. Yes, it does make a lot more sense to donate to someone's mustache-growing than two girls playing with cupcakes. But IT'S FOR THE CHILDREN.

SO! Yesterday was our second check-in with a whole new project. This time, they challenged us to make something mustache-related to sell in their store.

OH CRAP! BACK UP!

Forget what I said.
Let's start with this backstory:

When the first tutoring center opened in San Fran, they set it up in a storefront. Everything was going well until they found out that in order to be in a store, you had to actually sell things. So they did! They set up the tutoring center in the back, and created a Pirate Supply Store in the front. I imagine there were eye patches, fake parrots, lessons in "Yarr," etc.

Since then, they've set up tutoring chapters all over the US, with different-themed storefronts in each city. Chicago's theme is Spy Supplies. So it's actually called The Boring Store, but when you walk inside, you discover all kinds of spy supplies, like bananas to hide your cell phone in, sunglasses that help you see behind you, that kind of thing. Check it out. Cutest website ever.

Okay, now BACK TO WHERE I LEFT OFF.

Our challenge this week in the mustache-a-thon was to create something mustache-related that they could sell in The Boring Store. Adrienne and I came up with a Mustache Flowchart, to learn what kind of Mustache is right for you.

Voila.


Sadly, we did not win "1st place" and therefore the "prize" for the night, which was a copy of McSweeny's. But we did win the prize that is Winning At Life. The MC of the night, who is also in charge of The Boring Store, came up to us and asked if he could take the poster, because the store actually wanted to sell more posters, and he thought ours was a good idea. So that's all we know right now, but it means that in theory, I could have something I wrote (and Adrienne could have something she designed) for sale in an actual store! With a cash register! And price tags! And a website! Not too shabby!

So now I'm all hyped up on mustache endorsement. Which brings me to my next request: Sponsor us.

INCENTIVE: I've decided that it's not enough to just get a warm, fuzzy feeling from donating to tiny children who look like this:



You people need something more. And here is that reason:
If you donate $5 to the cause, I will write a blog post about you. And you alone.

Q: How will you know I donated?
A: These donations aren't exactly private. As long as you leave your name, I'll know!

Q: Emily, you do not know me.
A: Don't I?

Q: No, you don't.
A: Oh. Well, it's called Google, my friends. Or I will write a poem about you. Or you can tell me something about yourself in the comments here, and I will base a lengthy, made-up story about you and post that.

Q: What if you already wrote a post about me?
A: Well aren't you just the luckiest thing in the world. Tell ya what. I'll write another one. And it'll be better than the first! Eh? How's that for unachievable expectations?

Q: What if we haven't seen each other since high school?
A: In that case, PLEASE donate and I will give the world another magical post about my youth, your youth, and the weird, awkward things that happened during that time.

MORE INCENTIVE!
Adrienne, as a graphic designer extraordinaire, will also make you your very own logo if you donate $10. Think of it! $10 from you, and you have your own personal logo to sign off your emails! IT'S LIKE MAGIC! INTERNET MAGIC.

RECAP
Go here. Scroll down until you see Collabostache (which is now a picture of two cupcakes in front of the Epcot center...of course) and put in however much you want to donate.
Donate $5 to this place: Receive your very own dedicated blog post right here.
Donate $10 to this place: Receive your very own blog post AND your very own logo.

What have you got to lose?! ...I mean, besides ten bucks.

8 Things I Have To Do Today That Have Come Between Me And JTT

You guuuuyyyys...I have things to do and it's harrrrrrd....

Seriously, I've been mostly unemployed for a year and my tolerance level of doing simple, everyday tasks has slipped its way on down to empty. If my motivation had a face, it would be Bruce Vilanch.



The simple fact is: the things I need to do today are all either fun, simple, or all of the above. But the mere fact that I have to do them is just a huge inconvenience, considering what I'd LIKE to be doing: curling up with Charlie the cat, eating a bowl of mac and cheese and watching a marathon of one Mrs. Jill Taylor being exasperated-yet-forgiving in a way that gives me comfort and hope.

But instead, here is my HORRIBLY INCONVENIENT to-do list:

1. Wake up at the ass of dawn (aka 7:45 am, when the sun is nearly mid-sky.) Eat a bowl of cereal.
Ugggnnn, why meeeee?

2. Get on the el, transfer to a bus.
BOTH? At easy, safe locations? Why don't you just rip open my chest and pull out my heart?

3. Read picture books to kindergarteners on the South Side.
Hey, you know what's awesome? Eager Kindergartners named Raphael who think you are the bees knees. You know what's NOT awesome? Reading Green Eggs and FREAKING Ham three times on the day you forgot your coffee. Also, I am sorry, but "I would not, could not, with a goat" is the dirtiest sentence ever, and you should be ashamed, Dr. Seuss.

4. Travel back home.
Argghhhhh...sitting and letting other people transport you places is such a terrible endeavorrrrr.

5. Immediately rip off comfortable, baggy, 5-year-old jeans for pj pants from Aeropoastale that are so old you got them FROM AEROPOSTALE.
That one isn't so bad, but they're under this pile of clean clothes...what if I never get to them?

6. Sit in said pjs, nom a sandwich, and edit sentences so they are simple enough for a 9-year-old.
But I can't do that AND play Facebook Scrabble! This is like torturrrrre.

7. Create a hilarous flow chart about mustaches so you can raise money to help inner city kids learn to read.
Ugn, the stress of my life is making me whither away into nothingness.

8. Go to a bar where there are free drinks to hang out with nice people and Adrienne and laugh about mustaches.
More traveling? And putting on real pants again? What kind of life do I LEAD?

God, life is so difficult. But this is one cross I'm going to have to bear if I want to be a productive, helpful member of society who one day DOES have a job and works hard to keep things as such. So here I go with the work and the things and the stuff!

After this nap.

Cupcakes With Mustaches. It's For The Children.

So the other day I was walking to my gym and one of THOSE people was standing in my way. Looking at me. With a clipboard.

Oh, GOD.

Usually, these people are standing in groups in the middle of downtown, and they are easily ignorable because I am listening to my headphones and walking eighty billion miles an hour. But not this time, for I was fumbling to get out my membership card, take off my hat (so as not to appear unattractive to Cute Gym Worker Man) and turn off Britney Spears' Drive Me Crazy.

Suffice it to say, I was powerless. And then she caught me with a double whammy. She said, "Hello, do you have time to support same-sex marriage?" Why yes, ma'am. I always have time to support same-sex marriage. Especially because supporting same-sex marriage is something I usually do while also doing other things. Why, just the other day, I was eating a sandwich, watching TV, and supporting same-sex marriage all at the same time!

So I stopped. I figured: the woman had a clipboard, she wanted my support, I believe in all the same thing she believed...why, we may even become best friends. At best, I'd sign her little doohickey and then be on my way to Elliptical Hell.

This woman starts talking a mile a minute, and when I take a look at her little clipboard I notice--wait a minute. There is no list of signatures here! What have I gotten myself into? Oh my god, they're going to try to scare me straight. But I AM straight! Oh no wait...she just wants money.

I said, as nicely as I could, "Oh, do you want money?"
And, if I remember right, her response was something along the lines of "Blah blah at least $20 blah blah blah. PS. Blah."
And my response was, "Oh, heh heh....I don't have...well I mean I have, but I don't want...but I mean I support...but I just can't afford, but again with the support...well-wishes...proposition 8...my gym...money...unemployed...OKAY BYE! *Zzzzip!*" (That last part was me frantically running into my gym to get away from her.)

All this to say, I hate when people ask me to donate money. Even places where I know things are going to a good cause. Because on the one hand, giving money to people who need it is a good thing. Salvation Army at Christmas. Boys and Girls Club Toy Drive. Red Cross. ASPCA. This American Life podcasts. All good places to donate money. But with my bank account on a constant spiral downward, I just can't help that much--unless you want me to actually be one of the people ASKING for the money in about a week.

Thus, I give my time instead. Hence all the posts about volunteering. And lately, Adrienne and I have been involved with one such activity: a mustache-growing contest. Now, clearly since we cannot grow mustaches ourselves (if only...) we are given a weekly creative challenge while the natural growers do their thing. And the point of both is to get people to support your mustache growing/creating endeavors. This week, we were challenged to make a mustache out of any material we wanted and take pictures of it.

Adrienne and I are weird.

Let me get that out of the way right there, if you didn't pick up on that here. So instead of just cutting a mustache out of cardboard and taking pictures of it on statues, our cats, etc etc, we created a whole challenge for ourselves. We made little mustached cupcakes, and then sent them on adventures around the world.

Check it out.

Our goal is to be the most creative mustache team, have some fun, and also--you guessed it--to raise some money.

Any money donated to our cause goes to the place I tutor at. It's a non-profit writing and tutoring center. It's the place where a boy wrote this:


Which is, undisputedly, the single best piece of writing in existence.
These kids are from inner city schools, working off the public school system (which does not always do super well for them.) I've tutored a few kids now who come because they literally don't WANT to go home. Including a seven year old girl who had had a rock thrown through her living room window by a gang member. And yes, I tell you all that for pure and utter guilt factor.

What I'm telling you is this: I hate donating money. And I hate when people ask me to donate money. Because there are just so many good causes out there, I can't possibly give to them all. And anyway, I can't give money because I am piss-poor broke.

But maybe you are different. Maybe you have money. Or like to donate. Or just really like mustaches. Or cupcakes. Or...cupcakes with mustaches perhaps?

To donate money (any amount) you can go here. Scroll down, find Adrienne and I (second row, fourth column) and donate away! And remember: it's for the children.

COLLABOSTACHE

I swear I had a whole post brewing. But then Adrienne and I decided to do the Mustache-a-thon that my volunteer place is holding. Both men and women can grow mustaches (well, really, girls "grow" mustaches) and have people sponsor them. And all proceeds go to the volunteer place.

I was iffy on the idea until I realized that Adrienne and I could be cohorts. And now I'm pumped. So I spent all night coming up with a tagline. Which is still in the works.

But check out the amazingness that Adrienne created for us:



That's her and I, of course. I have never looked cuter, if I do say so myself. The idea of it being that since our mustaches will be fake, they may or may not be made out of frosting. Also....cupcakes.

Here is our intro for tomorrow:
We are Adrienne and Emily. Together we are...Collabostache. We don't know much about growing mustaches, but we know a thing or two about frosting. And the most important components of frosting are consistency and flavor. Which, coincidentally, may be the most important components of mustaches. Collabostache oh-ten.

Expect an update later when I actually have an idea of how this whole thing works, and when I shamelessly ask you to sponsor me in my frosting endeavors.