I didn’t drink coffee for a very long time. In college I started with non-java fraps and then eventually crossed over to the very wimpy, but tatsy mocha. As I slowly transitioned into joining the caffeinated cult, I was confused as to why coffee houses brought on a crowd of regulars. Most people I knew just got their fix at home.

About a month ago I received my complimentary issue of Blueprint, Martha Stewart’s latest magazine. There in the local coffee shop with a blended mocha in hand, I visually tore through the whole thing, remarking on the utter state of euphoria I felt. Yet, it was quickly over as I closed the back cover.

Perhaps the best combination along with my coffee house is sharing that time with a friend. Since Christine transferred schools, she is only around for a few weekends. Monday morning she told me her schedule was getting busier and her availability for coffee dates were quickly narrowing. How could I say no?

Even though my blended coffees often make me shake with jittery chills because it’s usually the only time I drink coffee, the side effects of quality time with friends really brightens my day.

Construction of a new office building has been tormenting our office for the past several months. The worst was probably when they had the fork lifter idling in reverse for 30 minutes. Did they not notice the annoying back up beeping for a whole half an hour?! The constant rattling of steamrollers and other oversized Tonka toys has meant I’m yelling on the phone, enduring a constant state of reverberations, and not to mention stretching to catch stuff that keeps falling off my desk and shelves.

But, you get used to it. Before it was just watching stray cats fighting in the bog/swampland which was also probably home to West Nile Virus mosquitoes. So seeing big mounds of dirt being moved and watching the workers spill concrete everywhere is actually pretty entertaining.

Right now they are cementing the parking lot after a 10 a.m. lunch break. That is, a 10 a.m. lunch break of sandwiches. Washed down with Coronas. Yes, you read that correctly: Coronas. Cerveza. BEER. One guy guzzled the glass bottle down as a supervisor whistled him to hop back in the cement truck and finish pouring. Now, I’m pretty scared for my life in here. Who knows what kind of crazy mishaps can happen with intoxicated workers and a cement trunk? My prediction: a modern day, beer-fueled Pompeii in our offices.

I’m ending my 22nd year potentially spending $895 on shiny new pumps. Only problem is, they aren’t made by Prada or Christian Louboutin. They’re made by Volkswagon. Oh happy day. I don’t think life understands that that wasn’t on my Kaboodle birthday list:

Birthday! by moemarsita

I’m practically eating pain killers like they were candy. And by practically, I mean I’ve only taken them once, but they’ve been on my mind ever since I awoke this morning. My muscles are throbbing with soreness even though my body isn’t moving. A massage is no relief because of the pink burned skin. I’ve been in a constant state of “ow” since I rolled over in bed, cursing the habitual nature of our universe that it was morning again.

Then again, spending the weekend launching the wakeboard off the wakes and lounging in the Lake Don Pedro sun with old and new friends ain’t too shabby. Oh it hurts so good.

Photos to follow…

Something has to be said about my mental state when I’ve been deja-dreaming of the next workday’s tasks for three nights in a row. In these dreams I recall yelling the police’s non-emergency phone number over and over again. Perhaps because IRL, nobody calls me back. Another dream was that I was lost driving around and yelling “press conference!” all over town. This did in fact happen this morning. Then there was the dream where yells were directed at me after the printing of two words. Oi. Lots of dream yelling can’t be good.

Anyway, if that paragraph didn’t fill you in, life’s been a bit more rough than usual with vacations and intern trainings and oil fill-ups and, oh, have I mentioned how nobody calls me back?

When I was getting my minutely Perez update (I’d hook myself up by IV if I could), a part of me felt for Paula Abdul as he slammed her for needing assistants. If this week taught me one thing, it’s that I could use some professional assistance. If my diet alone isn’t proof, then how about the fact that my renewed library books are overdue. Again. You think I would have learned last time. I would return them, but, I bought special Post-It flags to highlight the pages and that would mean facing the mean library lady and forking over cash (not coins, but cash!) to renew. Also, I don’t know if I could find all the books in the time I have before leaving work. And dare I mention that it was my mom who finally returned everything last time? Borrowing from the library isn’t worth it for lazy busy, working professionals.

Maybe Paula’s got it right.

Okay, maybe not about the jerk thing. Or about the gobbling of meds. But definitely excusable, nay, it’s imperative that she have hired help.

So I hear farthings are worth about a quarter … of a penny. Any takers?

If you haven’t been to a wedding lately, you may have missed the widespread popularity that is the strapless, tea-length dress. So as I’m prowling The Wedding Channel and The Knot’s bridesmaid’s dress photo galleries, it’s pretty much a quick click through to gaze at the color choices. Then I was stopped dead in my web surfing tracks with the funky offerings from Impression Bridesmaids. These would definitely make quite the impression at my wedding, which is why after I finish blogging, I’m ordering them right away.

Continue reading Impression Bridesmaids… (Read on …)

“I’d like to return those and renew these,” I said to the librarian as I passed the mountain of wedding books and DVDs in her direction.

“Card please,” she said, in a robotic manner, like Rosie the Jetson’s maid.

“Oh, and I think I may have a fine,” I added. It happens to everyone and this time wasn’t a big deal. My worst would have been when I borrowed “Sideways Stories from Wayside School” for upwards of a year. When my mom discovered it and made me return it with all my garage sale loot in tow, it turns out it belonged to another library a couple cities away, so they said I could keep it. Oh the memories, I thought, chuckling to myself as I juggled the dollar bill and quarters I had scrounged up for the late fee damage.

“Father of the Bride. Twelve dollars.”

Those words were a verbal sucker punch to the stomach, rendering me speechless. My left hand embraced the aching gut as my left hand feebly forked over a $20 bill. I hovered over my renewed items cursing my laziness and stupidity … for not buying the stinkin’ DVD online.

Little did I know how drastically my life would change after last Sunday. I realize now that my worries then were pretty insignificant now that I have to become self-sufficient, update a new blog and plan a wedding. On top of that, work has been more demanding lately and I’ve somehow managed to catch a cold. Every night when I come home from work I try to eloquently describe every detail of the proposal. But tiredness overwhelms me.

Yet as the days pass and I come to more fully realize my decision, I couldn’t be more happy. Matt and I make a great team. Every day I’ve learned a little more about how he orchestrated the proposal plan and it makes me feel even more special.

The most excited I’ve been since Sunday I think was when we went to Costco Tuesday night. (My parents often refer to us as the Costco Couple.) As we maneuvered the orange flats around the warehouse, I realized that no longer will we need to split up all the stuff we buy. And one day, hopefully in the near future, I will have a huge freezer to house all my ridiculously oversized food items. One can only dream.

So I hope to have my reactions to the proposal up sometime soon. You know, before I leave for LA for the two graduations (congrats Mike and Megan!) and the wedding (congrats Jeff!). Until then, I leave you with the first “engagement present” I recieved from my grandpa (Papa):

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This post and others related to our engagement and wedding can be seen on http://emilyandmatt.org/blog.

Tri-tip made me late! So good. Renee CoverGirl winking totally cute!

8:06
Yay CariDee! Where’s her beautiful blonde hair? She doesn’t look as good.

8:07
I can’t decide which one I like more. I guess, I’m team Renee. Natasha would be amazing though.

Now after weening de compeeteetion…

8:24
Renee better not be sent home because she’s too old.

8:11
Jaslene is cute, but commercials? Not so much.

8:09
This challenge isn’t as fair if they don’t have lines.

Why is Renee in a wind storm? She’s a natch! Yay Renee!

8:12
These are very glam cover girls.

It bothers me that Renee and Lisa (previous cycle) are told they look to old. Why is the modeling industry so consumed with the malnurished girls that look like middle school boys?

The Break Breakdown
Sorry I wasn’t able to put a quiz together for the finale. I wasn’t really expecting the late nights at work, coming down with a cold or, you know, getting ENGAGED! And I thought life before my left ring finger found a diamond friend was busy. I guess we’ll just have to wait for next cycle to come up with some quizzes and polls and junk. And there will be another cycle because you know Tyra will take on anyone that gets in her way.

8:19
Oooh Sass & Bide. LOVE THEM!

Natasha’s commercial? LOVE IT! You know, for a foreign trainwreck.

8:20
Her smile is such a liar.

Her lips don’t look very good. In my opinion, these CoverGirl shots are never anything fabulous. They don’t look normal. I think Renee rocked it because she actually showed real personality in those boring shots.

The Break Breakdown
I don’t understand why CoverGirl is used as the big decision for who’s going to be Americas. Next. Top. Model. I understand they are a sponsor, but they have the same girls as covergirls. They pretty, but girl next door pretty. And most of their competitions are about editorial modeling. I know they’re looking for versatility, but it seems like a Vogue-worthy photoshoot should be the final competition, not the cookie cutter CoverGirl commercial.

(Read on …)