I Think I Made Someone Pretty Important Pretty Angry With The Way Things Have Been Going

o hey,

I can hear the wind raging outside (I'm sure that our windchimes may have just impaled a small bird that was flying to safety), my dogs are crying like a child on his first day of kindegarten, and my boyfriend is in his basement. I think I am the closest to death I have ever been. And death seems like it would fit right in with the luck I have been having this week. So, mom...you can have my collection of books about Native Americans. Jenny, you can have my stash of gumballs in my bottom dresser drawer. Eric, you can have all my trophies so you never forget how much better I was than you. And dad, you can have my neck, knee, and ankle braces along with my shoulder sling and my crutches as I know you will need them sometime in your life. O and Colin, you can have all my dirty clothes so you never forget what I smelled like (even though my later days, I have smelled like Subway) BUT IF I DON'T DIE...NO ONE BETTER TOUCH MY GUMBALL COLLECTION! (I will find a new hiding place!)

Anyways, blogs must go on..even when life is hanging in the balance. I hate my life. No I don't; I have just had a rough week. I will first start with the good news. I GOT A FISH!!! I named him Moccasin, and he is ugly. But he is my fish, and I love him. Why did I name him Moccasin? Well, it's just sort of the first thing I thought of.

Other than the new addition to it, my life has been pretty, dare I say, AWFUL! Let me make it clear, I love EVERYONE in my life that makes it ever so amazing. I know I am very blessed with everything I have, but it's just been one of those weeks. Let me start with yesterday. Have you ever had a toilet in a Subway overflow all over your shoes? O yea..HOW BOUT TWICE?!?! Words of wisdom...if anyone ever tells you, "Alright...Flush, then plunge, then flush," DON'T LISTEN. For if you do, you will have a squeegee in your hand and you will be chasing 2 inches of water back into the women's bathroom so your customers won't know anything is wrong while you spend an hour and a half using a mop to sop up the mess. God Bless America!

My next adventure in my blissful fast food life involved me ruining 60 dollars worth of meat, cheese, and salad. I don't know how the cold bar got turned off last night, but it did. How does this 60 dollars become accounted for? O you know..me and the girl I was working with have to pay for it. "Hi, my name is Emily, and I thought I was broke. Then I ruined 60 bucks worth of cold meat, and I realized that I am now not only broke, but I am not the Subway worker I thought I was." O but don't worry, if you thought that was the worst of it, you're wrong! All the ruined meat had to be thrown away. Well, whoever threw it away put it all in the same trashbag and then put the rest of the day's garbage on top. Therefore when I went to take the trash out around 8pm....let's just say I thought there was a baby hippo in the trashbag. The trashbag then busted open in the grass, and I spent a half an hour picking room temperature meat (which oddly feels kind of neat), plastic gloves, TUNA SALAD, coffee grounds, and other things that may have been delicious in a different condition out of the grass by the dumpster. Picture this..a giant woman in a Subway uniform picking up cheese from the grass while she gagged and cursed and attempted to hold the trash bag down in 20 mph winds. Laugh..it's ok.

Now that I am done complainging...I'M GOING TO SLEEP!

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

I Could Really Go For A Tall Glass Of Beer With About Eight Olives In It

pffffffff what in tarnations are you doing here?!

I didn't blog for 2 days again. I didn't blog because, on Saturday, a starving child from Malaysia came to my door holding a puppy whose eyes had been infected by rabid squirrels. While I was feeding the child a corndog and cleaning the puppies eyes with q-tips, my roof caved in, and I was forced to drag the child and the dog through the destruction until I made it safely to the road. Then, the three of us were hit by the ice cream truck. We got free ice cream, and it turns out the starving child just lived down the block and forgot to eat breakfast, and the dog had just gotten into some heavy pollen. But, now it's Monday, that was all a lie, and I am ready to blog again.

Well, today I was going to get back on to my healthy eating habit train again. You see, my boyfriend's birthday, father's day, and just loving food has seemed to make me start to get squishy again. So I woke up this morning and said to myself, "EMILY, you are going to give up ice cream for a week!" Ok -that lasted til around 4 pm. Then I said, "EMILY, you are going to give up chocolate for a week!" Alright - that lasted until I made myself some puppy chow. Food and I have a very interesting relationship..actually let's just say junk food. We're kind of like Romeo and Juliet...star crossed lovers. We only meet at night when no one can see us..I can eat just lovely all day..fruit..yogurt...hummus...vegetarian chicken...but once the sun goes down, OOO MAN...we go at it. "But soft! What scent through doorway does my nose smell? It is something to eat...and PUPPY CHOW is the sun!"

So I guess I'll plan to stick with the healthy eating tomorrow. Speaking of delicious food, I watched WWE Pay Per View at Buffalo Wild Wings last night. The people who come to these events are simply delightful. It almost looks like a trailer park vomited into the restaurant. I am by no means judging because guess who hasn't missed one since she started dating Colin? THIS GIRL...but that doesn't mean I can't get my giggles from it. One of my personal favorite people is, who I call, the Underfaker. For those of you who don't follow WWE wrestling, here is the real Undertaker...

It's ok..I'm scared too. Here, my friends..is how I perceive the Underfaker...

The Undertaker picks his teeth with items bigger than the Underfaker, but this man is relentless. He is what my hero, Dr. Phil, would call "FREAKING CRAZY!" God Bless America. And last night, he was extra CRAZY. He may or may not have taken some controlled substances before he came because he kept pacing around like a lion trying to find somewhere to drop a load. Then all of a sudden, he grabbed his knee and made a face that was mixture of pain, anger, and constipation. He proceeded to explain to anyone who would listen that a roof fell in on him 2 weeks ago. WHAT IN LINDSAY LOHAN'S NAME WAS HE DOING ON A ROOF?!?! I hope he's not dead right now because he is the most interesting person I have ever seen in my life.

Keep Letting It Be,

Em

I Can Balance On My Left Leg For 12.3 Seconds When There Is A Breeze From The Southeast

HI (I may or may not have just jammed my "I" key into my keyboard...I'm angry)

My name is Emily, and I am the queen boss of every Subway on the face of the Earth. Not only do I determine the rules for Subway, but I determine all the prices, and all the places that take Subway points as well. WAIT...I DO NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's play a game....it's called yell at a 19 year old girl who is just trying to work her summer job because YOU CAN'T READ A SIGN!! Congrats man with a giant tattoo on his ribcage..YOU WIN! Let me tell you, this man looked like he had been in the sun for about 309482 hours. I should have known he was going to be cranky. Secondly, he had this tattoo on his ribcage..I'm pretty sure it was the first chapter of Harry Potter or something; it was just a bunch of words. It could have also said, "I have never been happy with any Subway in my entire life, so you might as well just start crying now."

This man was also with a woman...a woman who obviously knew he was about to make my life Hades. She was very quiet, and she just tried to keep him from making me stick my head in the oven. He wants a turkey ham sub with chicken pieces. WTF!! This is NOT the White House kitchen, and you are NOT Barack Obama. You cannot have any kind of concoction you want! After he yelled at the other Emily, she gave in and we found a way to ring it up. They also got a buffalo chicken and another turkey ham...none of which are 5 dollar footlongs. The total $22.50. They pay, yell, and leave (in no particular order). We carry on with our other customers who appreciate what we do and here comes Cranky McSunburn yelling somemore. "WAS MY SUB 15 BUCKS?!?! I DONT EAT 15 DOLLAR SUBS!!" "Um..no sir..your sub was $9.50. I can get you a receipt.....here you go." "THIS IS AWFUL!!!"

Out storms my new favorite customer, whose head was steaming more than my fingers do when I accidently stick them into the meatballs, with the receipt in hand. Back to the wonderful woman with the beautiful newborn boy in her hands. DING DONG..."O shitake moo moo!" Now he has the subs in his hands, and he is stomping on the newborn...k the newborn thing is a lie...but I wouldn't put it past this man. "WERE THESE NOT 5 DOLLAR FOOT LONGS!?!?! I DONT WANT EM!!! GIVE ME MY MONEY" At this point, I am more defeated than an overweight fifth grader with no arms playing dodgeball. I give him his money. I lost.

It take a lot to make Emily Eileen angry. My friends, I was angry. Tell me that I ruined your life by making you pay for your subs...I didn't did I?..ok..just making sure.

For future reference....You have to pay for subs...just makin sure you guys understand that so you're never as confused as Cranky McSunburn.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

I Found A Mosquito In My Messy Bun...Am I A Skank?

Hello Friends,

I'm blogstipated. I didn't blog for too long...TOO LONG...I will apologize again, even though my apologies are worth about as much as 2 pesos in Donald Trump's buttcrack. Let's talk now. Wait..I will eat a bowl a cereal...then we will talk.

Anyways, I have no excuse for my lack of blogging. I have just been writing for the newspaper, reading about writing a novel, trying to write a novel, constructing subs of greatness, attempting to work out daily, and trying to build a giant Q-tip that can clog the hole that is spilling all that dang oil in the gulf, so I have been a tiny bit tired.

I want to talk to you today about flies on poop. I saw it, like legit, for the first time in my life yesterday. I have had dogs my whole life, but I have NEVER had a dog that could drop a load like Lily (who is a golden retriever/lab/something else that we don't know because her mom is the dog version of a Vegas prostitute..she gives favors for male dogs who bring her treats). KIDDING..BACK TO PG...So, I am walking out to my car, and I see the Mount Everest of Dog Poo sitting outside. First, I gagged. Then, I high fived Lily on the fact that she was still live because I honestly thought her digestive system had become a new lawn ornament. Then, I had an ephiphany. Flies on dog poop is the MOST DISGUSTING SIMILIE IN THE WORLD. The next time someone says, "Man you were on that like flies on dog poop," I am going to say, "FLIES HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING ON DOG POOP!" They were swarming around this poo the way my brother hangs around the dessert table at the Golden Corral. I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran it over with my car. Now before you judge me, let me first tell you that the fly gods already punished me, so I don't need your judgment. The fly gods punished me by making my car smell like a rolling corn field that was just freshly fertilized. It did override the smell of Subway when I got off work though...

I believe that I will never ever achieve greatness in life. My calling in life is to be a competitve eater. I know this for a fact. I was watching Man vs. Food yesterday and realized that, with the right amoung of Tums on hand, I could complete the majority of the challenges his faces. However, my show would be called WOMAN VS. GARDEN...I would eat an immense amount vegetables...Now you're thinking, "Well if she is so good at it, why will she never achieve greatness?" I'M SCARED TO THROW UP!!! O my goodness...I ate one too many marshamellows yesterday, and I freaked out because I was feeling a bit too bloated. Then I burped, I was ok. Long story short, I have the ability to achieve greatness...but my fear of acidic stinkiness will keep me from ever reaching my full potential.....I'm sorry mom and dad.

BOOOOOO I'm tired.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

If I Could Have A Bag of Popcorn Without Kernels....I Would Be Happier Than Breath Mint in a Garlic Shop

I like the way ya work it..NO DIGGITY,

So I was reading the newsfeed on AOL today and saw that Kroger recalled a bunch of ice cream. In a frenzy, I read the story because I LOVE KROGER and I LOVE ICE CREAM! I was writing my will because I assumed the ice cream that I ate was full of arsenic or something when I noticed that they simply recalled it because it may have come in contact with nuts, and it does not emphasize that it may have done so. At this moment, I said a brief prayer for the human who was allergic to nuts and discovered this. When recalls come out, I don't think we think about the person who first discovered that the product needed recalled. Imagine sitting in your kitchen, enjoying your Superman ice cream, and all of a sudden YOUR FACE IS THE SIZE OF A PEEP THAT HAS BEEN PUT IN THE MICROWAVE FOR 6.8 SECONDS!! You yell, "O NUTS! (literally)" and have to rush to the emergency room. I just pray that in the event that the Charmin Toilet Paper Factor is bombed by an itching powder bomb, I am not the person who realizes that the toilet paper needs to be recalled.

I ate vegetarian chicken alfredo today. IT WAS EVER SO DELICIOUS!! I started not eating meat because I simply hated meat. It wasn't for the environment, or animals, or my body. However, all three have now become reasons as well. I feel so much better physically, and it's nice to know mentally that I am helping the environment (not eating meat for a day saves the amount of water not showering for a year would) and animals. I will never preach it..because that's just annoying...but if it sounds like something for you, I would def encourage it. I do want to say that the only thing that tempts me anymore is the smell of toasted pepperoni. I am at work, and I toast these BMT and Spicy subs..and O MY GOODNESS!! If the Cher could fart (she can't; it's scientifically proven), it would smell like toasted pepperoni. I see the juicy, loveliness sitting below the gently melted cheese, and the aroma dances in my nostrils. I JUST WANT TO GRAB THE SUB AND EAT IT (even though I know that it would burn more than salt on a hemmoroid). I resist though...so I can guiltlessly watch Babe (the pig is SOOO adorable..I could never eat it).

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

Thunderstorms Are Fun...When You're Alone With A Bunch Of Veggies....NOT

Heya,

I didn't blog for 2 days. I would like to give you my utmost apologies. My internet connection was half past tofu two days ago, and yesterday, well...let's be honest...I was tired. So I understand if you hate me, but I would LOVE a second chance.

I had a really rough night guys; I'm going to use this blog to vent. First of all, I had to close. Closing is not nearly as fun as opening. When I open, I get to be Oprah Crocker (that's a cross between Oprah and Betty Crocker). I'm Oprah because so many people come in to get subs, and I supply them with things that they enjoy (subs,..not cars like Oprah does), and I am also very personable while doing so (like Oprah). I'm Betty Crocker because I bake batches and batches of delicious cookies and bread that inmates on death row call and ask to have for their last meals (it's just that good). When I close, however, I am simply a glorified janitor (cleaning windows, bathrooms, ovens, blah, blah blah!!).

To top off the wonderfulness of closing, Mother Stupidskank Nature (that's really her middle name..I looked it up) decided to toss a little thunderstorm my way. The door in the front decided to blow open and shut while I was in the back doing the dishes. I looked around the store, and of course, no one was there. I tried to convince myself everything was fine, but I watch the news. I know what happens during thunderstorms to young girls who are closing fast food store alone!!! We'll just say I had the giant sub knife/potential kidnapper stabber at hand for the rest of the night.

Other than closing, my day went pretty grand. Colin and I went garage sailing in Lima. Colin bought himself a nice referee shirt...he's not a referee (can't you see why we're in love?). During our garage sailing experience, we witnessed some of the most graceful, pleasant human being in the world. Exhibit A) Woman driving a 1992 gray and rusty minivan was trying to drive the wrong way out of the sub division. The following conversation was carried out between she (we'll call her 'Woman with 2 teeth' ) and the woman who was directing traffic (we'll call her 'Woman with light saber')...Woman with 2 teeth: "I NEED TA GIT OUTTA HUR!!!" Woman with light saber: "U is gunna have ta go round like erybody ls!" 2 teeth: "I AINT GON ROUND!!" light saber: "Thas to bad u is aint got no choice!" 2 teeth: "THIS IS BULL[explicitive]!! BULL[explicitive]!!!" 2 teeth then proceeded to peel out in her rusty excuse of a vehicle yelling words that were either curse words or pig latin (I couldn't tell due to her accent). Exhibit B) "GRANDMA WAIT UP FOR ME!!!!" clump clump CLUMP CLUMP CLUMP...Colin and I thought we were about to be stampeded..just as we dove off the sidewalk a pre teen girl who..let's just say..may or may not have looked like she ate 12 twinkies for breakfast...flew past us in a Phineas and Ferb T-shirt and spandex shorts to catch up with her grandma whom I hope was purchasing a hair brush at one of the garage sales.

I really don't mean to sound mean...I hope people blog about the weird things I do...I am just so fascinated by people. And the things people do in front of other people. Anyways, I'm exhuasted...more tired than constipated plumber..God Bless America!

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

"Let me be more imperative: walk your holy three-dots-one-dash walk but not so fast." Heather McHugh

Stay Golden Ponyboy,

Friends, I must say that there are days when I am serious. Weird, I know. Don't worry, I won't make too much of this blog serious because well..serious is STUPID!! However, I would like to start out on a small serious note. Life is beautiful, for real. Sometimes it takes a slump to really appreciate the beauty in life. Sometimes that slump is A LONG time, and you NEVER think you will ever be close to the same. I'll tell you that I was in one of those slumps...and it lasted close to a year. But now that I am almost fully removed from this slump, I have an appreciation for life that I could have never fathomed when I started college. I am not close to the same...but that's because I am so much more than I could have ever been without this slump. I don't want you to ever have to slide into a slump like mine, but I do hope that life rocks your world. Take in the little things...children with ice cream, gumballs, chit chats with your mom, and even stubbed toes (they're always funny in retrospect)..BARF!!! SERIOUS OVER!

Now for the real blogginess. Work always provides me with at least a moment of sheer joy. Today's moment of sheer joy happened about 2 hours into my 3 hour dish washing run. I was washing bread pans, Jordan was making chicken teryaki, and Kay (the manager) was sitting at the computer. We were each silently going about our business, which should have clued me in that something awesome was about to happen (awesome stuff always happens when you're minding your own business). The station Kay had set the XM on today was playing some pretty random stuff, from Dixie Chicks to Johnny Cash. So I'm washing out a tuna tub (O it's as fun as it sounds, I may or may not have tuna still in my hair), not really listening to the radio, but then I begin to listen to it for some reason. All of a sudden, I notice the song playing is something very unfamiliar and the lyrics are well...different. Please pardon this language...I'm not trying to offend anyone. The woman had the whiny, coffee shop voice that I usually love...but these lyrics...well here they are. "Maybe he's a faggot. Maybe he's a faggot. A FAAAAGGOOOTT! Maybe he's a Jew. Maybe he's a Jew. A JEWWW!" Mind you, there was a lobby full of Japanese Setex workers and an elderly woman. both of whom probably though a "faggot" was a type of insect. God Bless America. After Jordan and I shared a laugh, we told Kay she might want to change the station before a homosexual Hannukah celebrator came to get a sub.

I made a duct tape wallet today. Too bad I spent my last dollar on the duct tape (the Dollar Tree is God's gift to minimum wage workers. Where else can you get a Coke Zero, banana chips, and duct tape for $3.14?) So if anyone wants to toss a buck my way so I can see if the wallet actually works, I would probably spend it on gumballs instead...but I would carry it in my wallet until I got to the Dollar Tree.

I was working on becoming a diva today (WWE), and I was doing a dang good job. I ellipticalled like a small child running down the ice cream truck, then I worked on getting my 5 abs by doing planks, which caused me to sweat all over the floor in front of the mildy attractive older man who was doing squats. You know a 'but' is coming though..so I'm going to say HOWEVER, I am a sucker for food...mostly ice cream....I don't think divas are allowed to eat 2.5 ice cream cones a day (my sister doesn't ever finish hers).

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

"My body was braille for the creeping influences: dawn suns groped over my head and cooled my feet." Seamus Heaney

Peace Up: A-Town Down,

I was off today, so I was quite nervous about this blog. You see, the only times I ever have anything interesting to say is when I have spent my day sticking small knives into long pieces of bread. However, today turned out to be more eventful than I had planned. Life is about the little things. People say I'm funny..and they can't believe all this funny stuff happens to me. I think it happens to everyone...we just need to take the moments to take in the little things. Life lessons from Emily! Ehh...you should probably just check out a self help book from the library instead.

Anyways, in regards to the library, I went today. I still have my Ereader...but I have no money. I have no money because...we'll just say that the money I make in a month at Subway would pay for one pair of Donald Trump's underwear, and my boyfriend and sister decided to be born 3 days apart, and the government wants me to celebrate the fact that my father raised me...C'MON PEOPLE! Kidding, I love giving people presents, and I love the people I am giving presents to. The money thing means that I can't buy new books for my Ereader, so I have to check em out old fashion style. I finished "Peter Pan," and I am not a better person because of it. I am now scared of pirates, crocodiles, small children, and Exlax (sometimes I read when I go potty).

The beauty of the library is silence. Who goes into the library and doesn't want to scream at the top of their lungs, "BOOBS!!!" I resisted the temptation to scream "BOOBS" but only because they were doing the kids' summer reading program, and I didn't think that was appropriate. I checked out a book on cross-gendered poetry, hence the title of my blog. No, this is not like dirty poetry. It's actually very interesting; women speaking in the voices of men and vice versa. Sometimes I speak like a man, but my boss says it bothers the customers, so I speak like Lucifer instead.

Today, I also made about 4 trips to Kroger. This is not unusal. We only consider it unusual when we go there more than 10 times a day. I was buying Honey Bunches of Oats, carrot cake, and crunchy peanut butter with my dad and sister. We went to self check out because I have always wanted to be a bag girl. There is something about making sure you don't put the bread at the bottom of the bag that makes me feel like a hero. Jenny thought it would be a cute idea to hit espanol. So, this machine starts screaming at us in Spanish!!! It wasn't a problem because I have the routine of the self checkout memorized (10 trips a day); the problem lied in the fact that EVERYONE IN THE STORE WAS STARING!! We'll just say I don't resemble Dora the Explorer in the slightest bit, so people sort of knew that I wasn't the type to speak espanol. While my sister is urinating herself in glee and my father was just standing there with his mouth half open, I was frantically trying to finish our checking out. It takes A LOT to embarrass me...and this might have been close. Glod Bless America.

My baking project of the day was Peanut Butter Crunch Cake. Carrot cake with peanut butter crunch concoction in the center and smooth peanut butter coating on top. When I got it out of the oven, it looked at me and said, "Thank you for baking me. I am so delicious that I will bring goodness and peace to the entire world" (in the southern drawl of Miley Cyrus..because she will someday save the world). Ok, cakes can't talk..but if they could, that's what mine would have said.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

An Average Adult Should Take In No More Than 2300 Milligrams Of Sodium A Day

Desiw,
Woeicjah eiwolskdch iewothidsp. weiothiois woeiicidaghtoisa sdkfjo, owiethskdkfjwithnskgsdsa. wieorjdsldkiesdiaotds.

Translation for the previous phrase:

Hey,
This is what my writing should look like right now. I hit my head harder than I have ever hit it before on the cooler at work, so now my brain has turned into Quaker Oatmeal.

I was minding my own business, stocking the bar at work so that I could provide the humble town of St. Marys with delicious delicatessen excellence. I grabbed the black olives, which I don't even think should be grabbed anyways because they are about as icky as an uncovered sneeze when you have a sinus infection, and I turned to leave the cooler. The cooler door frame, you know..the one that is 5'8'' which enables every employee to walk through with ease BUT ME, was a bit closer than I expected. Thank goodness I was in the store alone because not only did this run in with the stainless steel door jam move my ponytail to the same place it was in my third grade school picture, but it also caused me to yell (pardon me), "Dirty ball sacs on a leprechaun!" I now have a nice knot on my hairline that reminds me I am not 5'7''.

Once I came out of my coma, I decided to make a cake, well a torte. Torte..what a fun word. More like a body function than a type of dessert, but I won't judge. This was a root beer torte. I made my own whipped topping to go on top of the torte!!! Paula Deen, eat your heart out!! But make sure you barbeque it first on a charcoal grill (I'm an expert). I went into my room while my torte was being heated by the oven, and when I returned to check on it, I caught my sister committing a crime of beverage. You see, she thought no one would come in the kitchen, so when I came in, she got the "O poo, I didn't think you would come in while I was doing this," look on her face. What was she doing you ask? She was making Kool Aid..not just any Kool Aid, it was basically a block of sugar that was dampened by a little water and sprinkled with a Kool Aid packet. I caught her mid-dump; she had our giant sugar container in her hands and was DUMPING it into the jug. God Bless America! Colin asked if I taught her a lesson...nawww...when she is urinating Pez candies, she will realize she may have added a little too much.

Tomorrow, I start my training to become a WWE diva. Colin has gotten me into this obsession with WWE (wrestling). NEVER in a gazzillion years would I have thought I would like it. Now, I want to be a diva. All I need is about 5 more abs, 2 fake boobs, and some hair extensions...I'll start with sit ups. So if you are keeping track, that means I want to be a woman wrestling, pastry baking, tree hugging, poem writing giraffe. I won't forget you when I'm famous.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

Dolphins Can Stay Up To 15 Minutes Under Water

O O Hey,

Today was another lovely day for me. Let's just let every blog have the implication that I had a lovely day unless I state otherwise because I have realized that I say this all the time. Right now, I am watching The Next Food Network Star. Someday I will own a bakery, and I will provide everyone with delicious pastries. It will be called "Auntie Em's Place of Patries and Tasties." (I will use the name "Auntie" whether I am an aunt or not..it has a much better ring to it.) I will serve cake and pie and muffins and scones and wintergreen mints (those are the tasties that make your breath smell better after the pastries.)

So this morning I went to church. I LOVE church, but I don't ever have anything funny to say about it because I love it so much. Moving on, I rushed to Delphos so that Colin and I could see a matinee of "Splice." On the topic of "Splice," we will just say that going from worshipping Jesus to watching images of humans..umm..do the deed with odd scientific created characters was quite an intense transition on a Sunday afternoon. It was a good movie, don't get me wrong, but I'm not sure what kind of genre it would fit under. It's not Horror, it's not Sci Fi, it's not Romance...it's more like O My Gosh, What the Heck Did I Eat Before Bed To Have A Dream Like That genre. After the movie, Colin and I did it Beer Barrell style. WOAH! You guys are dirty...it's a restaurant. We ordered the cheese deep dish pizza...14 inch...after Colin said 14 inch, our waitress replied, "Are you sure you want the 14 inch?" That, my friends, is when you know you are going to have a good dinner. Our waitress came out of the kitchen pulling our pizza behind her in a Radio Flyer. The first difficulty was getting a piece of this out of the grips of the 600 degree pan. If there is a pizza cutting school, the cook at Beer Barrell didn't attend it. After Colin suffered third degree burns, we both enjoyed our pile (it can't be described as a piece) of pizza. It was DELICIOUS; however, each bite proved to be a serious threat. Everytime I swallowed, I feared that some of the cheese would stay in my mouth while the rest of it went down my throat. Like when you're eating cheese sticks..and you have to stick your fingers past the dangly ball in the back of your throat to retrieve a strand of mozzerella as you gag pitifully and your life flashes before your eyes. I didn't choke, and the Reds won! God Bless America!

I love food and coffee (we got Bigby after Beer Barrell) and Colin, so now you know why today was a lovely day. Update on my brother's diet. He has finished close to a half gallon of ice cream and is now eating the pasta mom made him for lunch tomorrow...this his is snack. There are competitive eaters that would get full eating the CRUMBS off Eric's couch everyday. He's cute though..and a nice guy ladies...and he showers at least once a week!!

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

"I Generally Avoid Temptation. Unless, I Can't Resist It" Mae West

Apples, Peaches, Pears, and Plums, Line Up When Your Birthday Comes,

Well folks, I have both good news and bad news. The good news is: the lockness monster does, in fact, exist, and I believe I may have found him. The bad news is: HE IS IN MY TOILET! (well plumbing...but my toilet is part of that.) It all started early Thursday morning. I went potty for the third time that night (like usual...I think my bladder stores the equivalent of a Capri Sun) around 4 a.m. I peed, wiped, and flushed. God Bless America. As I was nestled back into my comfy (that's an overstatement; I sleep in the same bed my mom slept in when she was my age) bed, I hear what sounds like a lawn mower. My first thought, "How efficient! Someone is trying to mow their yard at a more eco friendly time of day!" (Global warming people!) Then I realized it was coming from inside the house, and as often as I have begged to have grass planted in the kitchen, it is yet to happen. Ever since then, our toilet makes this OWEIRJWIOSICFEOI sound about 14 seconds after you flush it, and if you sit on the toilet long enough after you flush, it sort of rumbles with the growl (I tried it). Dad says we have an air pocket or something in our pipes. Give me a break! I know it's the lockness monster...but you know...the more I think of it...maybe an air bubble makes sense. It would explain where all the farts go....hmmm....

Anyways, toilets are pretty much stupid anyways. We're always like, "What would I do without indoor plumbing?" I'll tell you what I would do. I would NEVER have to clean up an overflowing toilet in a Subway bathroom!! You see, someone thought that the toilet looked like a much more logical place than the trashcan to toss the very thick paper towels that she dried her hands off with. I was panning bread, and I hear.."EMILY!! EMILY!!!" My coworker was in the women's restroom staring at an overflowing toilet. The water was rising quicker than we could clean it up, so we had to sandbag ourselves into the kitchen using all the footlong pieces of bread. When the water started dissolving the bread, all we could do was cling onto pieces of floating fresh vegetables so we didn't drown. Ok...everything after "at an overflowing toilet" was a lie, but we did have to mop up the overflowed mess. If only we had disposable port-o-potties...that would be a perfect world.

Today, I made the most beautiful Boston Cream Pie, but I am so confused by them. They are made from cake mix...how are they pies? There isn't even a crust. It's like false advertising. I made it because my mom is trying to get my brother to start a diet, and I just love to watch him squirm. What's more tempting than a warm Boston Cream Pake (I'll compromise) with homemade chocolate coating slowly dripping down the sides of a double layered yellow cake that houses a pile of delicious vanilla pudding in the middle. I also made it because it was a double batched recipe, so Colin will finally get to eat some cake that I made (he doesn't get it very often because my family usually demolishes it before he gets it.)

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

"I'll Have A Little Bit of A Lot of Salt and Pepper on the Tomatoes"

Hi friends,

Another uneventful day in the life of Emily Eileen Shellabarger. Summer is becoming quite, dare I say, BORING! So getting stomach ulcers and reading the equivalent of 15 Bibles every night during the school year isn't exactly a cup of Diet Cream Soda, but this workout, work, sleep thing is a Chinese finger trap on your thumb. My day itself was quite boring, but I witnessed and heard an abundance of interesting things throughout this bleh day.

First of all, I witnessed a woman breaking the cardinal sin of both working out and beverage drinking. This is NOT a lie; it's so unbelievable. So I am ellipticalling, sweating like a pig, listening to Lady GaGa, and reading Peter Pan (I have an Ereader and I am currently reading Peter Pan..JUDGE ME!) when a woman comes in wearing spandex capris and a tight pink shirt - she was not an extremely large woman, but my personal opinion is that only professional beach volleyball players should work out in spandex in public. She mounted the elliptical next to me and an aroma of sweet coffee scent filled my nose. I removed myself from Neverland and noticed that she was drinking a CAPPUCINO ON THE ELLIPTICAL!! Was she just planning on strolling through the park?! Because I am pretty sure the elliptical doesn't have a "strolling through the park while drinking a 500 calorie cappucino" setting. She was like an ellipticalling oxymoron. Burning calories, taking them in, burning them, taking them in.

My next two interesting experiences occurred at work. As much as people make me want to stub every toe by drop kicking a pile of bricks, they also make me giddy. Exhibit A) A young boy (probably like 6 years old) came in with his mother. "Hey Johnny (we will call him Johnny), what kind of sub do you want?" "UH I want cucumbers." "I know, but what kind of sub?" "UH..." His deliberation went on for about 3.5 minutes before he decided upon turkey. I then asked him if he wanted anything else but cucumbers and he looked at me and said, "When I put my arm up to the TV, the hairs stick straight up." Children are God's gift to fast food workers. Please, for just one second, imagine your mom looking at the McDonald's cashier and say, "When I do the dishes, my fingers look like prunes." It just wouldn't happen; without children, the life of a fast food worker would simply be full of people who act like the worst thing that has ever happened to them is the fact that you put 6 pickles on their sub instead of 8.

Speaking of decorating a sub, my final interesting occurrence was provided by an adult. I realized that Subway workers must be able to translate each persons' order into, what I call, the Subway Formula of Excellence. You see, my "a bit" may be your "a lot," or Bob saying, "Extra onions," may be Shelly's normal amount of onions. Therefore, I have developed a formula. If it could be written out, it would look something like: word choice + facial reaction upon putting on topping x body mass of customer = Subway Excellence. So far, so good. However, today I had a man who stumped the formula. This formula is difficult to use for salt, pepper, and oregano, so you just have to wing those. Also, this man used the most interesting word choice I have ever heard. "I will have a little bit of a lot of salt and pepper on the tomatoes." HMM..maybe he is dating the ellipticalling oxymoron because "SIR THAT MADE NO SENSE AT ALL!" So I just shook the shaker til it looked right. God Bless America.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

Why Are The Little Candy Bars "Fun-Sized"...I Have More Fun With A Normal Sized One

Hi,

I ate a hot dog today...KIDDING..it was a Reese Cup Blizzard, but they're basically the same thing. It was a wonderfully delicious Blizzard, but the girl who made it seemed to have overestimated the amount of ice cream needed because there was a second small Blizzard towering over the rim of my first small Blizzard. I was not the slightest bit angry...not even for a second..ok maybe for like 4.2 seconds when it kept leaking onto my fingers (did I mention the girl forgot to give me napkins?)

Anyways, I made the most amazing cake today. I named it Pamela (I like to name inanimate objects, and this cake was extravagent enough to be named Pamela.) It was a triple chocolate, double layer cake with butter cream frosting garnished with crunched Twix bars. God came into my kitchen with Barbara Walters and asked for a piece; that's how delicious it was. My mom had a piece for lunch, and then she had a piece of the cream cheese cake she made Monday for dessert. She's a mom though, so she is allowed to have a pure cake diet.

I like getting ready for work. There is no pressure to it at all because I know that I am going to smell like a sub, be covered in mustard, and mess up my hair by hitting my head on the cooler within 10 minutes of being at work, so I just have to sneeze into my make up case (to powder my face of course) and toss my hair into a messy bun. The only problem with my uniform is that it's unisex. I happen to be what I like to call a "male-sized female." And since I have lost some weight, the fatty masses that are between between chin and belly button are not as prominent as they used to be. Subway workers also don't wear name tags. Sneezing into my make up case doesn't put on mascara or eye liner and my pants cover my hairless legs, so I can easily be confused as a boy. Once while working at McDonalds, a young boy asked his grandma, "Is that a boy or a girl?" The grandma was more embarrassed than I was, but I have actually been pretty self concious about it since. As if hitting my head on the 5'8'' freezer doorway everyday isn't enough punishment for being a large woman, young children also have to question if I sit or stand to pee. God Bless America.

I know where Jelly Bellys got their names. I just ate so many of them I fell like someone broke a jar of jelly and is pushing the shards of broken glass into my belly. Just saying.

Fascinating Quote of the Day: "This purse is kind of a nuisance. The opening isn't big enough for me to put my quilt in." My mother..she knits.

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

Am I Allowed to Eat 2 Bananas in 1 Day?

Well Hello,

Exhaustion is approaching me faster than a used car salesman who hasn't sold a car in 3 weeks, so I really hope I make it through. Today, I want to tell you about something that's annoying, but it really shouldn't be. This morning, I took my brother and sister out for breakfast at Robert Evans (some call him Bob, but he told me he prefers Robert). I was being a wonderful sister and assumed that my sibilings would get the drift that I am paying so you find one of the more cheaper items and get water. Well, that memo stopped right before my brother got it. He got an open-faced pulled pork sandwich and home fries FOR BREAKFAST!!! Our waitress bent the rules for him since he doesn't like eggs. This meal happened to be $9.28..and you know what he washed the $9.28 down with? Water? Maybe if we were in a perfect world...he chased the pork down with $1.79 Diet Pepsi. Don't worry though, my sister got a child's french toast meal that was only 2 bucks, and I got a coffee...only a coffee...because my brother was across the table eating Babe and half of Idaho. I love him though, and I love doing those kind of things for them every once in a while.

Now where was I, o yes, other than people spending a lot of YOUR money...I am also annoyed by waitresses who give me more coffee without asking if I want it. It sounds like I am complaining, but does anyone understand how much this messes up my coffee drinking experience?! First, it messes up my cream/sweetener to coffee ratio. Umm HI..I like my coffee to be a delicious mix of bold, Columbian flavors with a gentle hint of the finest CoffeeMate cream and a touch of sweetness from my Equal. When you pour more coffee into my cup without asking me, instead of my heavenly coffee experience, I get a bitter swallow of scolding hot Satan water. I then have to add more cream (which isn't a huge deal because they have those cute little cream holders with the spout..I enjoy spouts) and Equal. The Equal is what is embarrassing. I end up with a pile of Equal wrappers that not only EQUAtes(I rock) to like 6 trees (global warming people!), but it also makes me look like a 12 year old who needs a million sugars in her coffee instead of the sophisticated adult I am! That's how much it messes up my cup. And speaking of scolding, pouring unwanted coffee into my mug also makes it 82342039 GAZILLION degrees hotter. Some people enjoy their coffee to be warmed, but I just don't like the feeling of a blow torch being ignited down my esophagus...maybe I'm weird? I enjoy free refills, don't get me wrong..WHEN I WANT THEM!! So moral of the story, please ask me before you pour Satan's armpit sweat into my coffee mug. And if you do not ask me, be prepared to fill a garbage bag full of empty Equal wrappers when you clean off my table.

I'm done. That was mean because I am tired. Sorry.

Quote of the Day by Grandma Shellabarger: "Why didn't you sit still and keep the fart in the chair?"

Keep Letting It Be,
Em