He doesn't get you're human like I do.

This is possibly the most humorous thing I have ever seen. I mean come on, "But he sparkles, and I'm so hairy"? Classic. And I don't even really like Twilight. Or Taylor Swift. Speaking of which, this is so fitting considering that Taylor Lautner is dating Taylor Swift. No one knows celebrity gossip like I do.

Let them eat pie.

So apparently I was supposed to put the turkey in the refrigerator a couple of days ago. Which seems simple enough. Except for the part where I put it in the freezer. It appears that turkey must defrost.

I have quite possibly ruined Thanksgiving.

Call me now baby, I'd come a running.

I'm bad at games.

In my high school French class we would play "around the world" with French vocabulary. Whenever I knew the word I would of course have to gasp. By the time I had finished gasping the other person would usually have said the word.

Last night at family home evening we played "spaz". The person to get rid of all their cards first wins. I had most of the deck for most of the game. The saddest part was that Adam beat me, even after he took pity on me and took all but ten of my cards. Yes, the entire deck still ended in my hands. But a heart-felt "thank you" to Adam, for at least attempting to help me keep my dignity intact.

It's not just games. I am actually rather terrible at most things. Which is probably where the joke "the only thing Emily is good at is being bad at everything" originated. If nothing else I am very good at being bad at things. Which I think gives a little self-esteem boost to everyone else.

So if your self-esteem is ever lagging remember, I'm on call. I'll be there. For you.

And just in case you think I am throwing myself a pity-party, I'm really not. I like myself. A lot.

Clumsy is killing me.

I hit myself on the head with the ironing board this morning. Hard. As in I have a headache and there will probably be a bruise. It was nearly as bad as the time I pulled the iron down on top of myself.

Apparently my obsessive compulsive ironing is getting the better of me.

But neither of these occasions were as bad as the time I jabbed myself in the eye with the fire extinguisher.

In which I read "Harris and Me" again and laugh so hard that I choke on my own spit.

In which I meet Harris and am exposed for the first time to the vagaries of inflation.

In which I become a farmer and meet Vivian.

Wherein Harris introduces me to work and I meet Ernie.

In which war is declared and honor established.

Where I meet Buzzer and learn the value and safety of teamwork.

Wherein I learn some more physics, involving parabolic trajectories, and see the worth of literature.

In which we educate two horses, and I learn that the one blamed is not always the one guilty

In which I discover love only to have my heart broken and in revenge I fry Harris's business.

In which Harris discovers speed...and the value of clothing.

-Harris and me, Gary Paulsen (Of The Hatchet fame. Which is actually quite random seeing as how Harris and Me is hilarious and The Hatchet is the most boring book know to man.)

Heads up, you hold me up.

This weekend my bestie Traci came for a little visit. It was absolutely splendid. We got a cupcake, talked about celebrity gossip, and bought wax fangs. Which I often remember having as a younger child. They are actually sort of disgusting, but a classic nonetheless.

Also, we saw a squirrel. So of course I took pictures of her. I love squirrels. Regular squirrels, ground squirrels, and flying squirrels alike. And squirrels cannot carry rabies. Which is always a plus, I think. The really tragic thing for squirrels is that they can live up to twenty years in captivity but only average about two years in "the wild". This is due mostly to cars.

On a random note, my camera is a canon so I am always wanting to take pictures of animals. You know, "wildlife as canon sees it". Squirrels and ladybugs make up the majority of "wildlife" around Rexburg.


Anyway, doesn't really get any better than Traci. And I would hate Pocatello if she were not there. Which means a lot because I love Pocatello.

Call me animal.

I need to stop making weird faces at people. Seriously, it's becoming a problem.

Pushing me around and pushing me away.

Clive likes to think that because he matches the brown couch the brown couch belongs to him. This thought of his is incorrect. The brown couch must be won. My eyes are on the prize. Mere matching will do nothing to secure brown couch ownership. Sip on that, Clive.

Also, it appears that Clive is weighing in at over one hundred pounds. Giving explanation as to why I like to refer to him as "Clive Fat-Fat".

Anyway, he takes up a large portion of the brown couch. At one point Melissa and I were both sitting on the ground after being bullied out of our small corners on the couch.

We'll ride painted horses.

Traci and I have been wanting to make fried candy bars ever since fair season. So we finally did on Halloween. They actually turned out quite splendidly, despite all the doubting voices surrounding us.

Also, I carved a pumpkin. My family likes me enough to save me a pumpkin. In spite of all the subtle hints.

And dressed up as a luchador. Devin sent each of us a mask last year. They're pretty classic. Almost as classic as my "scary pig" mask.