Last night I dreamt that I was back in middle school. The bell rang on the first day and I raced atop the white and green marbled floors to get to my classroom on time. Even in sleep I remembered struggling to find a place to sit–next to the cool kids? the outcast skater guy? front of the room? Somehow knowing that I was in my 20s yet forced in middle school, I started to think to myself: this stinks!

Then a familiar teacher (actually my first and third grade teacher) came out and gave us our first assignment: write a poem as if you were Dwight Schrute.

Awesome. I could get used to middle school.

Zillow.com is my new best friend. Even though I always mispronounce his name as Zwillow, it has all the good 411 and doesn’t mind that I’m just a tad nosy. Okay, extremely nosy (but it’s a trait that brings in my salary, so it can’t be all that bad, right?).

While my traffic at the website is more in the realm of stalking, it has been one of many nifty, new real estate resources that will help me in making my first purchase. The site allows you to type in an address and see how much a house is worth. While it can’t tell whether the “quaint and cozy house with character” has marble countertops or mismatching, outdated appliances, it’s a good resource for those looking to get a good deal. Especially now that the market shows the rate of shifty house flippers is growing as steadily as foreclosures.

While it can’t document a history of construction shortcuts, Zillow, like any good best friend, can help the bring to light the reality of a real estate agent trying to woo you into buying that hot mess that’s been on the market for months on end. If you listen closely enough, you can hear it whisper sweet nothings in your ear like, “Don’t be fooled by staging tricks, sugar. A queen-size bed alongside floor-length window treatments is your first warning sign! 1,000 square feet is an entrapment, not ‘cozy,’ so keep looking. Love you, bestie!”

Usually I’m all up on Target’s GO designer timelines. But I’ve fallen behind. I haven’t been too impressed with the latest lines. And I especially didn’t pay attention to the designer accessory lines. Until today.

Thankfully, Love Made Visible has shared a secret find: Loeffler Randall’s stuff online before the official launch date. I feel so VIP already. His satchel would be my ticket to (fantasy) life behind the velvet ropes:

Looks like that Target gift card I got yesterday will come in handy!

It was just my luck that I canceled my three magazine subscriptions–InStyle, Real Simple and Elle–to subscribe to Blueprint Magazine. The new mag from Martha Stewart was set to “design my life” with everything from fashion to decor, entertaining to chic recycling. Then the next day as I was getting my daily fix of CasaSguar, I discovered some heartbreaking news: Blueprint is folding.

Shut yo mouth and say it ain’t so!

I guess it’s for the best, considering I have magazines from September that I haven’t read yet. And I didn’t actually pay for the mag yet.

Wait, who am I kidding?! I’m dying inside!!! I don’t want to subscribe to Martha Stewart Weddings in order to get my Blueprint fix.

So for now, the little ray of hope I’m left with is Bluelines, the magazine’s blog. It was already a Google Reader subscription of mine, so it’s not the best parting gift. (Martha should know better.) That’s not to say that I don’t LOVE the people behind Blueprint/lines. They are my people. The truest example would be the post (entitled “Pop it like it’s hot”–same brain waves people!) about a travel mug that will not leak after the popping of a button. I love them even more because, like a shrink with an impeccable sense of style, humor and grace, they are listening. Leave them a comment to say what you loved about the magazine so they can BRING IT BACK FOR THE LOVE try to bring enjoyable content to the blog.

Ring ring. Matt My Hot Fiance calling.

Hello!

Garble. Scratch. Garble. Garble.

Matt, is that you?

Scratch. Garble.

Is this Matt’s pocket I’m speaking with?

Garble. Scratch. Office Noise. Scratch.

Hey Right Pocket, how’s it going over there? Still jammed with everything Matt’s ever owned?

Garble. Office Noise. Garble. Garble. Louder Office Noise. Scratch Scratch. Loud Office Noise.

MAAAAATT I AM YOUR POOCKEEET! (Insert Darth Vader-like heavy breathing)

Click.

Someone stole my blog post! I know, I haven’t been “on it” with the blogging thing. So I just checked my incoming links and “ta da” my blog post on some random and very crappy page. What’s the deal?!

They link back to my blog and everything, but who/what is this Spitball Wars business and why do they feel that they can steal my stuff? Is this some new type of spam?

Click here to see the stealers and tell me what is going on. Please?

Fact: Sour grape jolly ranchers are as good an idea as clicking “click here to see an image” on the WebMD bed bugs page just before going to sleep. Also, bed bugs bite in a straight line.

Some days I have to remind myself that life will get better in a few days, just wait. But I’m realizing more and more that in the waiting, it doesn’t seem to lull. I guess that’s what happens when you transition into adulthood.

That wishful thinking was on my mind last week: just wait until the weekend, you’ll have a chance to relax and you’ll get a fresh start on Monday. That kind of thinking is what gets you into trouble. Well, I’m really not that superstitious, but I am becoming a devout believer in When-it-rains-it-pours-ism.

The torrential downpour of a weird day was this: My mom woke me up this morning to the news that my Papa (grandfather) had died in the night. I was waiting to hear “he collapsed, but he’s okay.” But it wasn’t the case this time. I was really close with Papa and hadn’t seen it coming, although his health wasn’t particularly good as of late. In my groggy, distraught state, I realized that this was the day that my brother had long-planned to propose to his girlfriend.

As the day nears its end, I am exhausted from the extreme emotions. In my experience with loss in the family, God has always blessed us. When my great-grandma died, my cousin Joshua was born about a month later. Today, I have a sister-in-law. And very recently, Matt and Megan’s fiance Matthew just joined in as well. It’s not right to say that it offsets the losses, but I count these people as huge blessings for these times.

Papa’s legacy was loving the Lord and loving others. His family reached far beyond our little unit. With the new families that are now starting to be made, I pray that we’ll take Papa’s legacy in stride.

Having rarely dealt with death much, I’ve always been somewhat bothered by the Christian attitude that it’s a time to celebrate, that he/she is in home with the Lord. Sometimes I feel people may misunderstand this idea and think we’re not mourning. As I told Matt tonight, I know he’s in heaven, but I have the right to be sad and cry for a while because I miss him down here. And I do feel deeply sad.

Yet, Papa was a man of God. I know he would want us to rejoice because he’s in heaven. All day I still didn’t feel like I was ready for this, but at church we sang a song that is helping me. It is because Jesus died for all of us that we don’t have to be afraid of death. Death has no power over God; it’s a temporary parting. We sang the following song at church tonight and I was able to rejoice in this fact. I wish everyone who has lost a loved one could know this level of comfort that comes from above.

Mighty to Save — Hillsong

Everyone needs compassion
Love that’s never failing
Let mercy fall on me
Everyone needs forgiveness
The kindness of a Savior
The hope of nations

Chorus:
Savior, He can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save
Forever, Author of Salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave

So take me as You find me
All my fears and failures
Fill my life again
I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in
Now I surrender

Bridge:
Shine your light
And let the whole world see
We’re singing
For the glory of the risen King, Jesus

As a fairly new die-hard fan of The Office, I have but one request. Please don’t let Jim and Pam’s relationship suffer the same fate at Dawson and Joey. You see, the following seasons of that show no longer had the necessary plot tension and intrigue to make it interesting. Well, interesting to buy beyond the DVDs beyond season three. I hope to, in the future, be buying a boxed set of The Office DVDs that puts the Friends DVDs to shame.

Your eternal fan,
Emily

As I pulled into the driveway tonight, I saw something scurry into the street. Then something larger went running after it. Did the neighbor’s cat have kittens? Wait, that’s a long, skinny tail and a furry, puffy body. An opossum! I’d never seen one in real life before. And it was a baby, meaning it probably was running back towards its family. So I was hoping the cat would attack this gross wild(west)life. Except it sniffed. And circled. And sniffed again. Then sat. And the opossum scurried off.

Just two weeks ago when I had to leave the house when it was still dark, I remember thinking I saw the cat run across the street. Then when it got there, it flashed its beady eyes and I saw stripes as it dove into the gutter. Ew!

I live in the city, people! I thought that I had to fear dumpster diving bums and crack heads when the lights went down. Now I’m more afraid to start running into rodents, or is it varmint? Yuck!