Teachers like to motivate.

I worked today. No, no, no. That in and of itself is not blog-worthy. Contrary to what my sister likes to tell people, I do in fact work. I even hold a full-time job.

The story comes more from the fact that at work, I noticed this sign. It's roughly two feet by three feet so it's kind of appalling/embarrassing that I never really paid any attention to it before. Musta been I've just worked so hard over the past four and a half years, I had no time to devote to my surroundings.

Anyways. This was one of those motivational quote kinda signs. You know, I'm a teacher. I work at a school. I do my work in one of the classrooms. Teachers like to motivate. One thing leads to another and you've got a motivational quote in your classroom. Not in mine. I don't have a classroom that's all mine. But that is neither here nor there.

Sign. Motivation. Aristotle. Apparently one time he said, "We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act, but a habit."

(It says therefore. That's how you know it's gotta be good.)

So then, I got to thinking. No, not about the grant I was supposed to be working on. But on excellence. And acts. And habits, of the non-nun variety. And then I decided to take Mr.Stotle one step further and replace "excellence" with all those things I'd like to embody a bit more.

Like gentleness.
Or compassion.
Or maybe consideration.
Or do-it-ivity.
And probably peace of mind.

And then I got to thinking about how it's probably true of the bad pieces of me, too.

Like the procrastination.
Or the selfishness.
Or maybe the worrying.
Or the jealousy.
And definitely the want-it-now-ness.

So then I thought about how maybe I could make a little change every now and then. Maybe sometime I could change some jealousy for some gentleness. And maybe I'd realize that I like the gentleness better anyways and maybe I'd try it again the next day. And then perhaps I'd like it so much, I'd decide to keep it and my nurture would out-wrestle my nature.  Maybe.

Then the sun came out. No joke.

And I went back to writing my grant.
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The moment you've all been waiting for...

Nah, I'm not here to talk about the Oscars (though I have been watching while doing work and kicking myself for not having a little party!).

Earlier this week, I mentioned that my students had put together a survey on eating habits and how much I would just love if you would kindly participate in that survey. My students worked hard to word these questions and are excited to see your responses. So if you would be so kind, my students and I will be so grateful. This is your chance to play a role in adult education!

So without further ado...Here is the link:
Emily's ESL class survey!


Bt-dub, this is my first time making an online survey so holler if you have any problems!

Thank you again and again!

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Laughs and tots.

So I organized a little girls night out last night or, as my husband called it, a night girls out. Whichever you prefer. And it was lovely. Lovely like laughs, drinks, and tater tots. Yes, tater tots.

Skylark is this serious dive bar a couple miles from my house. I'd been wanting to check it out for awhile so I gathered some ladies and we headed there. It's appeal? Mellow, cheap, photobooth and tater tots. Obviously not in that order. In order it'd be like tater tots, cheap, photobooth, mellow.

It totally lived up to my little hopes. This might be my new place. Mainly cause it's not far. And it requires little effort. As in I don't feel like I need to find a "going out" shirt nor do I need heels or, heck, even make-up. It's a real come as you are kinda place. And I like to come as I am.

So all-in-all: laughs around a table complete with tater tots and count 'em three dipping sauces. Not that that matters to me cause I hate condiments but I know it sure tugs on the heart strings of those around me (what up Emily D.) so I can appreciate the goodness vicariously.

Thanks, Skylark. You keep cranking out those crispy tots and being chill and my friends and I will be coming around again soon.



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Oh hello, beautiful dress.

I just came across this dress this morning and it is purely winter wedding magic. And for only $548? Shoot. I'll get married again in the winter-time for this one.


So chic. Thanks Macy's.

Someone please get married in this and then show us all the obviously stunning photos??


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Name something pink that Emily does NOT enjoy

Alright, quiz time everybody.

What is something pink that I do not love??

It starts with Pink and ends with Eye.

First off, I don't have pink eye...yet.

Let's back-track a bit so I can give you the full story. In fact, let's go back to the first time I ever heard about this frightening infection with a sickeningly sweet name.

I know you all watched Pepper Ann. No introduction needed.



If you're not interested in the entire episode (which I'm not totally sure why you wouldn't be. That's like a Might Ducks slapshot to the face of your childhood), feel free to skip ahead to the three minute mark.

Ahh yes, Pink Eye Pete. My first glimpse into the face of this horrendous disease. I mean seriously, how can you not shudder at the sight of that gooey-grossness dripping from his eye? So that's the image that saunters into my head with any whisper of Pink Eye.

Ok fast forward to a couple days ago. I'm sitting down to eat my lunch at school. We always eat in the front room which is also where students leave from (door with ramp + students with stroller). So anyways, one of our long time students walks towards the door with her two daughters in tow. Now, mind you, one of these daughters is in second grade and should obviously be in regular school since it's a  Thursday at 11am.

So I open my big mouth and ask, ever so sweetly, "Hey, so-and-so (names have been changed to protect the very much at fault parties), how come you're not in school? Did you guys have the day off or something?"

To which, her mother promptly replies, "Oh, she has Pink Eye so I brought her here."

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

This is one of my absolute biggest pet peeves. If your child is too sick or has some disease or condition preventing them from attending public school, please do not bring them to our program so they can infect three classrooms of adults and one of children under age 5. Seriously. Common sense people. I don't care how much you want to learn English. If your child is sick or has lice or has a nasty hacking cough or has PINK EYE, for the love of God and all things holy and healthy, please do not bring them near me. (Note: I am allergic to cold medicine so I would go so far as to say that if your child or you have a cold, don't come within ten feet of me. I don't want it.)

Honestly, people. Pink Eye and you think it's fine to bring her to us???

And this story gets worse.

So not only does she bring her child with Pink Eye, she also offered to have her daughter "help" in the children's room where she could infect little babies. Brilliant. Our early childhood staff kindly refused her "help" since second graders tend to be more harm than help, not based on the fact that she has Pink Eye. Why, you ask? Oh yeah, because the mother didn't mention it to them. Strike two.

So when this mom tells me about her daughter's condition, I, shocked and appalled, tell her "So-and-so-Mom, you can't bring her here with Pink Eye. It's crazy contagious!!" At which point, the daughter looks like she's about to cry. And I would like to point out, I feel bad for the kid. I had no intentions of upsetting her but could not believe her mother's absolute disregard for the health of those around her.

This is where this whole scenario goes a little crazy.

The mom actually says to her daughter, "Oh so-and-so. Don't feel bad. Emily will say goodbye to you and give you a hug" and proceeds to push her daughter towards me. Strike three.

So then I really kind of flip my stuff. "No. Actually. I will not hug you. No offense. But if you have Pink Eye you need to stay over there and I will stay here and say goodbye to you from here. I am NOT about getting Pink Eye."

Seriously lady. I will not hug your daughter and I don't care if she feels bad about it because you are the one who put us in this situation. How bout she comes over and just rubs her eyeball on mine so we can be sure that mine gets infected? Would that be better?? You're seriously nuts, lady, if you think I'm gonna hug your daughter right now. And shame on you for suggesting it.

Crazy lady.

Didn't she ever watch Pepper Ann??



P.S. This woman is a dentist. She is well-educated and thus has no excuse for her ridiculousness. Shame on her.

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Where did I leave that Valentine's day update?

So sorry folks for the Valentine's day update tardiness. Life's been busy. You know, making grocery lists, watching Man Vs. Food, the usual.

So anyways. On to the update.

Disclaimer: I do not feel forced to love on Valentine's day nor do I feel that by enjoying the day am I commercializing my love. I like love every day. And if I can have an excuse to outwardly display my love sans funny looks, than I am all for it.

I just love holidays. And surprisingly, this year I actually wasn't super pumped about Valentine's Day. Not for any particular reason. Maybe the fact that we didn't take our Christmas tree down til February threw off my internal Valentine clock. In past years, I've decorated with heart-y dish towels, etc. Those, however, must have gone AWOL in the move because I have absolutely no idea where they went.

Enter: Lyd, my mum.

My mom is awesome about holidays and most likely the reason I enjoy holidays so much. Lyd likes to give us little holiday surprises, even when we live too far away to just wake up to them. So every year since I've lived away, my mom has mailed me a Valentine package. This year's package: a card, chocolates, socks (!!), a tank top, a t-shirt and a hat and scarf for that one guy I live with so he doesn't get jealous.

Thanks for the Tee, Lyd!

And most importantly, Lyd included two heart-y dish towels to replace the old AWOL ones and she didn't even know they'd walked out on me! In short, best mom ever!

But Valentine's fun doesn't end there. My relationship with my husband works something like this: I come up with project ideas and my husband completes them. So for cupid day, I've historically loved making valentines. This dates back to elementary school and mandatory valentines for all. So good, right? 

Now that my friends and I are too old to demand expressions of love, I like to provide the love anyways. So every year, I like to give friends valentines. This year, I decided to go with a combo of love: jars of candy and/or cupcakes.

I bought some little jars. I bought some little candy. I had some little embellishments in my in-home craft depot. The result?
Adorable, no? I love me some heart-shaped doilies coupled with decorative tape and pink, white, and red candies. If love came in a jar, this would surely be it.

As for the cupcakes, I did intend to bake them myself. Really. I did. But then my husband came home (with the necessary eggs) and one thing led to another and I was sitting at the table watching him make cupcakes. I dunno what happened. I must have blacked out. 

Then the cupcakes were done and ready to be frosted, at which time I promptly came-to. I love frosting and I love frosting cupcakes. I had also purchased these mini individual cupcake boxes. Adrian says I love anything mini. And he's right. I do. So we frosted. We folded boxes. We put the frosted beauties in their homes. And here you have it:
Holler if you need a cupcake. They're super cute and tasty.

February 14th I went to work and came home and prepared to go to my buddy Emily's house for Bachelor viewing with some other ladies. At 6:30, Adrian called to see if I had found my surprise, which of course I hadn't. Then he appeared in the window and there was my valentine surprise. He asked to leave work early to spend the evening with me. I love that guy. Seriously. When you only see each other at 6:30pm one night a week, you get pretty gosh darn excited about an extra evening together.

So what'd we do? No, we did not have a romantic candelit dinner. Nor did we walk beside the lake. Adrian and I like to share our love.

So we went to Emily's. We watched The Bachelor with some ladies. And then we delivered these little reminders of love to our 2011 valentines. And it was wonderful.

Welp, time to go enjoy my Wednesday with my husband, who is currently busting a gut over the fact that Adam in Man Vs. Food just said "orale guey."

Don't forget to love again tomorrow. It's February 17th which is just as good as February 14th.


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I'm in love! I'm in love! And I don't care who knows it!

Happy Valentine's Day, my friends! I adore most any holiday but I especially enjoy any holiday that involves pink and freely quoting Elf. On that note, let me share this little clip from another Zooey Deschanel movie.

A little dedication to that husband that I adore just as much as I adore holidays, pink, and Elf:


P.S. Though most everyone knows my enormous distaste of musicals (most especially Rent), I do secretly wish that something similar to this clip would happen to me in real life. So, consequently, I've made this song my ringtone for when Adrian calls in hopes of people getting the hint and joining me in a little song and dance. It's been about three months and still no takers.  Yet, I remain confident that my day will come.

P.P.S. Check back in tomorrow for the reveal of this year's valentines and annual valentine from my mom! If you know Lyd, I know you won't wanna miss that.


Much love and Hall & Oates!

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Dear Wedding,

Dear Wedding,
You weren't exactly as I had always dreamed. In fact, I don't think I'd ever imagined you'd be how you were. But you were beautiful and perfect, nonetheless. And when you left us, I had but a few regrets, including this:


I should have worn this dress. Nevermind the $1200 price tag. It would have been lovely.

Oh well. Like I said, beautiful and perfect, nonetheless.



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Oh hello, spring!

Well, truth be told, we here in the midwest have a while to wait til spring. But the good news is there's a conservatory in the city and we took our students there last week to get reacquainted with all things green (ooh and pink!). It was so good to see flowers and life and little fish in ponds.

Don't worry, little blogging world. No need to come to Chicago. Allow me to bring the conservatory to you:


And for those of you who much prefer the drama of the black and white, I have not forgotten you:
They're three of the pictures from above converted to black and white. Nothing new.

Shooot. I might go change my computer desktop to one of these fine images. It's about time I get rid of the christmas lights, eh?

Well enjoy! Oh and don't go pawn these off as your own. They are the sole property of oh hello, love blog. Copyright blah blah blah.


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Finally...the snowcation update

Ok so back in the day when there were a few snow days, I promised you all updates on what Adrian and I had managed to accomplish. Now that I finally have some pictures, let the update begin!


Our living room had been begging us for some life. Before Christmas, the walls were bare and sad. During Christmas (roughly Thanksgiving to Feb 2nd), there was a tree to hide that one particular forlorn wall. Then we took the tree down and the wall was back to it's depressing state. Wall revitalization was crucial to the happy ambiance of our little home.

So we spruced things up a bit. Ideas flowed, on my part. Hammers hammered, on Adrian's part. And bows seemingly tied themselves. When the pink and white striped ribbon settled, here's what we were left with:

So cute, right? Although the letters look like they're held by the ribbons, they're actually hanging on nails. Adrian, who just likes to get things done and cares little for aesthetics, kept asking, "do we really have to do all this with the bows?" Yes, yes we do. Because those bows right there? Totally make the whole display. Imagine the wall without them. Snoozefest.

Next we decided to get some extra mileage out of the bunting a good friend of mine had made for us for our wedding. I absolutely adore bunting and how it quickly adds a bit of joy to any space.
It makes the boring behind-the-tv corner a festive corner of dreams fulfilled, right?

Then since we had a little extra bunting, my non-aesthetically-interested husband had the brilliant idea of hanging it from a little shelf. He's coming around, eh?

I love it. And while we're here, I picked up the little doll on top of "Hope" when I was in Mexico last summer. My mom and grandparents used to bring these back for my sister and me when we were little so I was so excited when I found a couple small ones. I had to buy them and we know have them throughout the apartment. Being that Adrian's mexican, he likes 'em too. But really, mexican or not, who doesn't love 'em? (Oh and bt-dub, that's a picture from our wedding.)

Ok then I got a little inspired. I spotted this project here at skunkboycreatures.blogspot.com and I knew we just had to do it. It fit so perfectly with our "let's not take our home too seriously" and our "oh we're mexican and mexican-italian-american" style that it there was no way it was not happening. So, of course, I proposed my project to Adrian and he reassured me that of course he had the know-how to do it. (Sidenote: Whenever I ask him if he can do something or how he did something he always tells me the same thing, "1. because I'm a man. and 2. because I'm mexican." He is, indeed, those two things so I do't argue the point.)

When the snow cleared, we set off in search for the perfect pinata. Given that we live in the pinata capital of the country, I figured we'd have one in no more than ten minutes. I failed to take into consideration that I am picky. About everything. Apparently including pinatas. And I found that mexican pinatas? Not cute. Mostly scary. Donkeys with big eyelashes and frightening teeth? Not what I had in mind. So I ditched Adrian (actually he had to work), picked up my buddy Emily and we headed to the one place we knew would sell american pinatas: Party City. And now, looking back at the picture that first inspired me, I realize I ended up using the exact same pinata. But it had the two things I wanted: perfect colors and no nightmarish teeth. Twelve bucks later, I had me a pinata.

So here's what we came up with:
And I'm loving it. Even with it's crazily lumpy head.

And because my husband is Mexican and cannot bear to let any part of any animal go to waste, we also created this:
Horrifying but ultimately awesome and hilarious? Yes. When we cut the pinata, Adrian just couldn't resist. And sometimes you just gotta let your husband do what makes him happy. Besides, I laugh every time I see it.

So here's that wall all done up

Lastly, I put my new cricut to work (thanks Mom!) and made this little banner to hang over the window. 
Even if I'm not here when Adrian comes in, I can still greet him with an "Oh hello, love."

So there it is. The long anticipated and long-winded recap of our living room makeover.

If you live around here, come by and see it. Once you catch a glimpse of that pinata headed south, I know you won't regret coming.
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This lucky little lady.

My husband is awesome. Really and seriously awesome.

Which is great because I did in fact make a lifetime commitment to him. So, thusfar, I feel pretty lucky that that's working out.

See, Adrian and I did things a little old school-like. We waited (he waited and I pondered) for about nine months before we started dating. Then we spent a year and a half frolicking through green fields until we got engaged. Then we planned a wedding. Then we married, moved in together and lived happily ever after.

<<record scratching>>

Yep. We didn't live together til we got married.

At the time, it just seemed right. I had been a single gal who had enjoyed her singleness. And by that I don't mean I had enjoyed it in the sense that I could kiss one boy today and another tomorrow. Mostly I mean I liked my job, my friends and my freeeeeeeeeeeedom to do whatever I pleased, whenever I pleased. See, I have a bit of a selfish streak. I like things to go the way I want. So if I want to buy new boots, I'd like to buy them now, nevermind your brother's friend's wife's birthday party, thanks very much. Unfortunately, relationships hinder (or really ought to hinder) your ability to do whatever whenever because you just end up feeling bad when you see such a sad little puppy face of disappointment. But long story short, I was in no rush to give up Emily-time.

Adrian, on the other hand, is not selfish. He actually likes to share. And he likes to share everything. His family, his friends, his food, his house, and that cute little laugh. So he was ready to move in like 3 years ago.

Like I said, I'm a little slower.

So we waited. And when the wedding came around, I was ready to move in and to really start a life together.

When you don't live with someone before you commit your entire lifetime to them, it's a little daunting. The three weeks before we got married, we spent painting, rearranging, packing, unpacking, cleaning, furnishing and converting an Adrian apartment into an Adrian-&-Emily apartment.

One of those nights, I picked up something off the floor (a paint brush, a shoe box, a newspaper? I don't know what it was). And I started to cry. Covered in paint, exhausted from spending day and night moving and planning a wedding, I just bawled and asked Adrian,

"Is this how my whole life is going to be?"

Oh hindsight, you're always 20/20 aren't you? I know now I was just tired and overwhelmed. Apparently going to Mexico a month before you get married is not the best idea. Particularly if you plan on moving and fixing up an apartment in the three weeks after you return and before you get married. Sounds ridiculous now. I know.

But you know, when I think about it now, I think that was actually one of the best times in our relationship. I had known before that we worked well together, but this was beyond anything we'd done before. In those three weeks, Adrian continued working 50-60 hours a week. He'd get out of work at 10pm, pick me up at my apartment and we'd work for the next couple of hours. Then he'd bring me home. I'd sleep. Wake up. He'd pick me up. We'd run errands for the wedding. He'd go to work. Rinse. Wash. Repeat. There were so many little things that could, and did, go wrong and so many times we could have just completely freaked out on each other because of the enormous stress of it all. But mostly we didn't. And that was good.

And I began to see something that I've seen more and more of as we live together: Adrian and I are a good little team. Separately, we're both procrastinators. But somehow, we really are better together. We get things done and we laugh and we enjoy each other while we do it.

Historically, I have great ideas and even better intentions, but my follow-thru is often MIA. Adrian keeps me on track and reminds me why I wanted to do it in the first place. Often my ideas are greater than my talents. But thusfar, I have yet to dream up a project that Adrian doesn't have the know-how to complete. Like I said, we're a good little team.

I used to hear from people that the first year of marriage was the hardest because there was so much to learn about living together. And I have learned a lot about living together. I always tell Adrian that the longer I live with him, the more I realize how good for each other we really are. I uncover those little quirks and idiosyncrasies that only I, his wife, will know. And I feel privileged to know them.

At least once a week, I still ask Adrian if this is how my whole life is going to go. But unlike that paint-covered night back in August, I ask with a sense of hope. "Adrian, will you always love me like this?" And he always tells me the same thing: Of course I will.


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Under a bit of construction


This blog is under a bit of construction until I settle on a template....which should be in the next couple days. So bear with me and I'm sure it will be worth it.

Check back soon soon for a totally new look!


Lessons on appropriate blizzard behaviors


I've learned a few things having grown up in New England and now living in Chicago. There are certain behaviors that are acceptable, nay, encouraged, and others that are downright foolish and mockable when confronted with a snowstorm of end-times proportions.

You know I love me a list so let me present to you lessons on appropriate blizzard behaviors based on my recent observations of general stupidity.

1) Should you find yourself at a stoplight and wanting to cross the street a pie, on foot fool, you really ought to obey that blinking red hand and wait. There's a reason you're not seeing the walk symbol. It's because you're walking in the middle of a blizzard and, really, those cars probably don't see you. And even if they do, blizzards mean slippery streets which means it's hard to brake which means you're a pancake on the pavement. So seriously, don't cross. And especially not right in front of a car.
Hey idiot girl, don't walk. Cause I really just almost saw you get run over.

2) If the snow goes above your knees, your tiny little car with no four-wheel drive isn't gonna make it through. So don't try. Cause when I walk out of the house with two pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, a thermal shirt, a fleece jacket, a down coat, fleece-lined mittens, a scarf around my face and a hat, I'm not doing so to dig you out of the snow. And I'm certainly not about to push your car. (Don't be thrown off by my big, shovel-toting husband. We're still not doing you any favors.) Mmmkay, maybe once. But after that you're on your own. Seriously.
Read up on how to unstuck your car from that snowbank you thought you could take on.

3) How about you don't double park after a ginormous snow storm?? Cause sabes que?? No one can get around you since there's two rows of buried cars along with like an extra 3 feet of snow on each side since the City of Chicago hasn't deemed our neighborhood worthy enough of a plow. So keep moving. My Explorer can't get by and we both know, if it comes down to it, you're the one losing a mirror. Not me.
Sure, sure. No problem. Take your time. Just be sure to watch this video when you're done double parking.

Which actually leads me to my fourth and final lesson:

4) Hey City of Chicago, it's me, Emily and the entire West Side and possibly South Side of Chicago. We'd like our streets plowed from time to time. I know, I know. It's tough to make us a priority when we don't have the money to feed your ridiculous campaigns but we like a clean street too. You know, a street where I don't have to use 4x4 High just to get from one end to the other. I mean, this is a city afterall right? Or am I mistaken and I'm actually living in Applachia? Be a pal. Plow.


Lastly, I'd like to leave you with this little ditty:
Post-storm, plastic chairs are the law of the land here. Dug out your car so you can go to work? No worries! Throw some plastic chairs in your spot and you're golden. Spot saved til you get out. But woe to you who moves the chair.


My good friend Emily didn't leave out chairs. She went to work. She came home from work. She found a parking spot also without a chair or bucket or other miscellaneous junk. So she parked. 

Little while later, there's a knock at her door and a man telling her she had taken his spot and she needed to move. She's a nice enough girl so she moved.

She's been looking for parking ever since.



Oh and my street got plowed. Three days later. Thanks Chicago.


Straight-shooting with my sister.


Snowcation updates are coming just as soon as I finish up a couple things around the house and snap a couple pictures cause I know you know blogs with no pictures are boring. It's like a book without pictures. And seriously, who reads those??

Before we get to that, I want to say a little something about my sister. 

One thing you can always count on from my sister is pure honesty. Anytime you're not quite sure if an outfit is ok, ask Erin. She will tell you exactly what everyone else is thinking but is too scared or polite or afriad-to-hurt-your-feelings to say. She'll tell you if that belt hits at exactly your widest part causing you to look like a pregnant water buffalo. She'll also tell you if that shirt fits you so perfectly that you look like you've lost all that weight from ten minutes ago when you had on that godawful belt. She's a straight-shooter. She doesn't sugar coat and she doesn't care if you don't like what she's said. And truth be told, she's usually right. You do, in fact, look like a pregnant water buffalo. So, to her credit, she's just saved you from a very embarrassing night and a humiliating couple weeks of facebook photo agony. You can thank her now.

When Erin hates something, you know. And when she loves something, you know that, too. 

And, luckily, Erin loves this blog. In fact, I think she's probably my most faithful reader and most certainly my greatest advertiser. She's consistently posted links on her facebook directing people here, she makes references to it in phone conversations and she reads it aloud to my family over dinner and that's how I know Erin loves it. 

And yesterday, Erin took her support a step farther. If you'll recall, back when I first submitted my request for a snow day, I mentioned that I was unable to find the Storm Center theme music. 

Yesterday was a Storm Center kind of day.

So Erin recorded the music on her phone and e-mailed it to me to post on this blog.

It takes a sister to do that sort of thing.



Thanks Erin. For being honest about the belt. And the blog. For hating things. For loving other things. And for never being scared to voice your opinion. That's how I know I'm getting the truth.



Foot note to "Life likes to grant little wishes"


(Confused? Read here first).

I must give credit where credit is due.

I know I could not have dreamed that impossible dream without the help of one man.

Skip ahead to 0:39 for the real highlight of the interview.

Thank you, Joe Cupo. 


Life likes to grant little wishes every now and then.


Yay!!!

It happened!

I asked and I received.

Life granted me my little snow day wish!

I seriously cannot believe that this is actually happen just like a week after I put in my formal request for a snowday with the weather/newscaster/storm center gods. But it's true. And not only is it true, it's like hugely true. Apparently when aforementioned gods come through, they come through in a blizzard of record proportions kinda way. You won't catch me complaining.

So how did this all begin? Well, I went to work today and at 11am, my boss came in, cancelled classes for tomorrow and that was the end of that. Anti-climatic right? No storm center theme music. No newspeople in sweaters. No 6am wake up call. But again, you really will not catch me complaining because I am so super excited.

But wait, it gets better. Not only do I get a snow day, but I also get a whole entire day with my husband! My snow day just happens to fall on a Wednesday which happens to be my husband's day off which means we get to spend a full day together where neither of us works which hasn't happened since Christmas eve. So you can certainly understand my excitement.

This day will most likely include all of the following, but perhaps not in this order:
1) Cinnamon buns (speaking of which, last week at Corner Bakery, I asked for a cinnamon bun and the guy looked at me like I was certifiably nuts and then said, "You mean a cinnamon roll?" Uhh yeah, I guess I do if you are unwilling to give it to me unless I conform to your midwest ways and call it a cinnamon roll. And while we're on the topic, cinnamon rolls are wicked good, jerk.)
Heavily disputed, but always amazing, especially when warm.


2) Orange juice
This is the only OJ we drink because, come to find out, my husband only accepts Tropicana and I desperately need calcium since I detest milk.

3) Sleeping in

4) Ice Road Truckers (Best show about Canada ever. Maybe the only show about Canada...)

5) Taking down our X-mas tree...finally. (Mexicans like to keep up decorations until Feb 2nd, which just so happens to be... tomorrow! Seriously, best-timed snow day ever.)
Anyone know how to right-side-up my Christmas tree? Cause I sure don't. Regardless, she was a by-mistake-classy little tree. Remind me sometime to post a picture of the one-legged girl throwing a snowball ornament we received at a party.
6) Cuddling
Wow. Disturbing. I've got a lot questions about this.

7) annnnnnnnnd sweatpants. All day.
Thanks Wikipedia for letting me know what sweatpants are and for sharing an example. What does Michael Scott say about Wikipedia? Oh right, "Wikipedia is the best thing ever. Anyone in the world can write anything they want about any subject. So you know you are getting the best possible information."
With this wish-granted snow day, I think I understand where the Man of La Mancha was coming from when he sang:

And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star

You dream that impossible dream, Man of La Mancha, and tell that large-chested lady to get out of the shot.
She's stealing your thunder.

I might be so bold as to say that I, too,  have dreamed the impossible dream and reached the unreachable star.


Now if only I could I could reach the remote....


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