My life as I know it

It has been a difficult few days for me. After an accidental dropping of my computer this weekend by one of Pat's friends, my computer would no longer turn on. It couldn't have been broken, I thought, since it only feel approximately two feet from the couch and landed on our carpeted floor. The problem was, I had my flash drive in the USB port and of course since I'm cursed with all things electronic, it landed right on the flash drive causing it to jam internally into the rest of the computer. Pat and I took it to the Apple store yesterday. I held the computer in my arms as we walked to the store to determine the fate of my computer. My lifeline. My love. After doing some testing, the Apple Genius, I believe his name was Jeremy - we will call him Dr. Jeremy, informed me that the results were not good. The USB drive had been pushed into the motherboard of my computer on impact during the dropping. It would cost me over $800 to repair it. I felt like the walls were closing i

To all of you Martha Stewarts out there, today I want to salute you. Since I've moved into our house, and have pretty much tripled the square footage I'm responsible for maintaining, I'm realizing how far from being a Betty Homemaker I really am. To be completely honest, I didn't do a great job of keeping my apartment in tip top condition either, when I had a fraction of the space. I had all of the excuses in the world: I didn't have enough storage space, no place to do laundry, no dish washer. The list could go on and on. Well, I've run out of excuses. I have plenty of room to store all of my belongings. I have a laundry room equipped with a washer, dryer, utility sink, and even a separate area for the litter box and other kitty necessities. I now have a dishwasher, double sink, and lots of counter space. So what's my problem? My problem is, when I get home from work I don't feel like doing anything. And if I did do something, what I should be doing is

Dear Cleveland Postal Workers, I have had many encounters with various postal workers throughout my last year of employment in Cleveland. None of which have been enjoyable for me. Most of which involved me getting scolded and lectured in ways that I haven't experienced since being a small child. Today's experience, although small in overall comparison to the others, was the straw that broke the camels back. I just don't understand how individuals who so obviously hate human interactions, end up working in customer service/sales related positions such as postal workers. Perhaps it's because of problems in our social structure which require people to do jobs that they don't enjoy. But I have a separate blog for political issues such as these. Many people dislike their jobs and are dissatisfied at work. Not everyone, however, takes it out on innocent people who just want to buy some stamps for their non-profit. Yes, I admit. You caught me putting tape on a stamp once.

I was in a meeting at work today and was completely inspired by something our guest said. We were talking about making changes and improvements in an organization (our organization to be specific) and he said, "Stop talking about it. Stop thinking about. Just do it." Outside of it's immediate context (although I thought it was very inspiring for us and our organization) I was actually thinking more about myself and my most recent blog about my anxiety and worrying. I told myself I'm going to adopt it as my new motto. It was one of the only notes I took during that meeting. I think it's fitting that I've been worrying all day and evening about my surgery tomorrow. Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day! Getting put under isn't fun, surgery isn't fun, being in pain isn't fun, and I'm just ready to be done with my mouth trouble (as you know). The last time general anesthesia was used on me, I had stomach problems for over a week. I hope that doesn

Many people who know me well know that I struggle with anxiety and worrying too much about everything. A few weeks ago I stumbled across a journal entry written in 2005 (handwritten I might add - only a few weeks before I started my blog). I read over the journal entry and was so shocked that three years later I still struggle so much with worrying and letting my anxiety get the best of me. I guess I was hoping that with time my worrying would just disappear? Wishful thinking. The following is my journal entry: October 17, 2005 "Worrying is like being in a rocking chair. It occupies your time but doesn't get you anywhere." This quote is so very true, but yet so many people still spend much of their lives worrying. Why is this? Is it an innate characteristic that when strong feelings are involved, rationalizing is nearly impossible? Or is it all a matter of learning self-control and being able to tame that voice inside your head known as your conscious? I am tru

I don't think I've shared with you how very much I love my new home. I stand corrected. Our new home. I have spent the past 6 years living in dorm rooms and apartments. Places you know are only temporary and therefore never really get the feeling of being "home" when you're there (**I recognize that some people live in apartments for a long period of time and do treat them as a home - this just never happened for me). When you live somewhere that you know is only temporary, you never really go that extra mile to dress it up and make it your own. You don't even care for it in the same way that you would if it were yours. In a house that you know is yours, however, you really value it and take extra good care of it (maybe because you know if something goes wrong - it's on you! No landlord or maintenance person to call. And trust me - the honey-do lists don't have nearly the same sense of urgency). Okay, so enough about all of that boring home ownership

I found out this morning that my 95 year-old Grandma (she would have been 96 in December) passed away last night in the nursing home where she's been staying for the past year. Although it's a natural part of life for someone of her age to pass on, it still makes me very sad. There's something about knowing that you will never have the opportunity to see or talk to someone again that is so difficult to bear. Forever is such a long time. No matter how much time you spent with someone or how many memories you have with them, there's always that need and desire for more. More time. More memories. More of them. She was such a warm and compassionate person. I enjoyed every moment I ever spent with her. She was quite the talker (hey, I get it honest, right?). I always knew that when I called her I was in for a long conversation. I will really miss those. I learned a lot from my Great Grandma. She introduced me to the soap opera General Hospital which I know she watched the en

I met with the oral surgeon yesterday about my freaking never-ending drama of the mouth. It reminded me of all the headaches and hassles I've gone through with my teeth over the last 14 or so years and I must say, it's getting old. When complaining to my dad, he reminded me that it could be worse. I could have been born with cerebral palsy or some terrible, debilitating disease. And he's right. But I also could have been born with normal teeth. What a concept! Before I bring you up to speed about the procedures I'm going to endure over the next seven months, let's first go over a brief timeline of my dental history: Birth to Age 6: sucked my thumb every moment I could. Bad idea, Emily. REALLY bad idea. Preschool'sh: tried to impress friends by jumping off the teetor tottern (aka see saw). Bad idea, Emily. REALLY bad idea. Teetor totter, meet my jaw. Jaw meet the teetor totter. Moments later I went to rinse out at the drinking fountain only to realize I had knock

I decided to sign up for an adult tap class. One of the things I have always said that I really miss from high school (one of the only things I miss from high school) was taking dance lessons. I always wanted to take a tap class during college but BG only offered one and it was for those who have never put on a tap shoe before in their life so I opted not to take it (although it should have been an easy A!). When someone told me about the Beck Center for the Arts in Lakewood offering adult dance classes, I got really excited! They offer classes in levels 1, 2, and 3. 1 is for those who have never tapped before, 2 is for those who have only tapped for one year, and 3 is for those with two or more years of tapping experience. Although I tapped for about eight years growing up, given the fact that I haven't tapped in over 6 years, I thought it would be in my best interest to start with the level 2 class. Unfortunately, this fall they only offer level 1 or 3. When I talked so someone a

I had an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago walking up the stairwell at my work. I had almost made it to the fifth floor when I heard the little pitter patter of some sort of insect. As I got up toward the landing, I saw a cockroach and it was running right at me. It jumped down on to the step where I was standing (in flip flops!) and it almost landed on my foot. It immediately turned to face me almost like it was preparing for a stand off. Not going to happen, cockroach. You win! Before the cockroach could blink it's eye I was gone. The incident left me shaken up for quite a while. I'm not sure what was most troubling for me: the fact that there are cockroaches in my place of employment or the fact that unlike other bugs that run away from humans, this one charged right at me. I called the owner of the building to complain about my fateful morning. She was less than surprised about the incident. She said they've been spraying in the stair well every Thursday because ther

So September 1st will mark exactly one year since I moved to the "big city." You would think that after living and working here for a year, I would no longer assume phone numbers start with the area code 419. One would think, but one would be wrong. Just today, when filling out some paper work, I started to fill in the phone number and started writing 419-216...wait a minute..those are two different area codes. Old habits die hard, right? But to me, there is so much more to it than just an old habit. The two area codes represent the two major chapters in my life. The majority of my 24 years have been spent living in a 419 area code and a 419 way of life. What am I talking about? 419 way of life? You might not think there are differences between the lifestyles simply based on area code, but I assure you there are. Nothing specifically bad or good. Just different. 419 represents the easy way of life. The life where I was being taken care of by my parents. The college life which

On a serious note, my brother would have turned 22 today. It's so hard for me to believe! July 30 th marked 15 years since he died. That's even harder for me to believe. It's so great for me to have Pat's younger brother Michael in my life. Mike turns 22 in a month and gives me an idea of what my brother might be like. Even after 15 years, I can't say that I look back and think to myself, "Everything happens for a reason and there is a reason he was taken from us." I just don't think I will ever have that kind of outlook. What I can say, however, is that life is what you make it. Similarly to the attitude of "everything happens for a reason" (I'm not criticizing that outlook on life, I'm just saying it doesn't work for me. It leaves too many questions about what reason could possibly be good enough to take away someone's only son, someone's only brother, someone's entire life?) I believe that we have the opportun

I have to admit, I'm very excited that the new season of The Hills started. Some people are surprised when they find out how much I enjoy trashy reality TV. Others however, aren't surprised at all. Yeah, it's fake and trashy and I love it. Some of it is definitely getting old, but I just can't seem to let my little friends from Orange County go. Monday's show followed the typical MTV format: eight minutes of the show and 22 minutes of commercials. I guess I should be used to that by now. Anyway, I wasn't disappointed with the show. Drama, drama, drama. I can't wait to see how the season unfolds. I can make a few predictions: Spencer will be his annoying, arrogant self. His sister will prove that anyone with the last name Pratt can't be trusted. Heidi will be annoying putting up with Spencer's crap even though we all know she deserves better (she's not perfect - but she definitely can do better than Spencer!). Lauren will attract drama everywhere

I'm really disappointed in the fact that I haven't written a new entry in my blog since March 6th. That's almost six months of inactivity! Life has been moving so fast that I have just let the time slip away. I haven't taken time for the little things in life that I enjoy so much: blogging, reading, and scrapbooking to name a few. I can only imagine that life is going to get more hectic the older we get so there's no time like the present to make sure that I'm not letting life pass me by! Sometimes I get a little bloggers writer block and feel like I can't make an entry unless I have something significant and witty to write about (although some may argue that I'm never witty anyway). But the truth is, my blog can be whatever I want it to be. Right? Some entries might be more significant than others and maybe some will be witty and some won't. But this is supposed to be an outlet for me to express whatever I want when I want. So that's what I plan

After the rush of the holidays was over, Pat and I were strolling around the mall. We eventually wandered into the calendar store and decided to look for desktop calendars. We both agreed that we needed something to look forward to and get excited about at work. As with every decision I make in life, I really struggled with choosing a calendar. There were so many to choose from. Anywhere from bible versus, origami, paper airplanes, going green tips, and comic strips. It wasn't until I was almost settled on a comic strip that the Family Feud, an old favorite of mine, caught my eye. My decision was made. Family Feud it was. I envisioned getting some coworkers involved and having it be a fun little "office tradition." After the first day or so when there never seemed to be an opportune moment to include my coworkers in the game, I soon realized that this was going to be a tradition that just involved me. After a week or two of doing it by myself, I knew something was missing

Max turned one on January 28, 2008! We celebrated his birthday this Sunday at my Dad and Jill's house. It was a lot of fun! Here are some videos from the party.

At my mother's request (yes, she is still the boss of me even at age 24) I am posting some more videos of Max. As you can see, I'm not the only one obsessed with him. :)

Some videos of my adorable nephew Max. I got to spend the entire weekend with him. He brings me so much joy every time I'm around him. Maybe he'll make you smile too. :)

I just don't understand why people don't provide air fresheners in their home bathrooms. It's almost as if they want others to know what you've done in there. The worst is when you know someone else is out there waiting to go in the bathroom when you've finished. On the one hand, if they're waiting outside of the door, they probably know how long you've been in there so there's really no point in trying to partially cover the smell. On the other hand, it would be nice to have something like roses or fresh cotton for the next occupant to smell in addition to the other smell so that it doesn't seem quite as strong. Some people carry pocket-sized air fresheners in their purse for this very reason. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. For as much as I enjoy planning my every move and every possible outcome, you would think I would be well equipped for just about any situation. That was not the case one tragic morning. I had been in the bathroom f