Eat Pizza, Pray Thank You, Love Life

I woke up yesterday 26 years old. I was thrilled to discover no new wrinkles, my boobs were still above my belly button, & not a one gray hair. Miraculously though, I had the acne of a teenager...

Tuesday I treated myself to a Thai foot & body massage. I had a hard time relaxing however because the girl next to me having a chair massage was moaning like the whole rub down was a happy ending. Awkward.

My one birthday wish came true & I got to spend the evening with my beautiful friends. We had dinner at Mamma Melina in Seattle. The setting was just perfect sans the priest that was seated next to our table of 11 twenty somethings. There were quite a few glances our way but he was working on a bottle of red himself so no judging!!

Once again this year I have a laundry list of resolutions. First on the list, stick to the resolutions.

Thanks to everyone for the birthday love, carrying it with me all year long!

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Cougar...

The 10th anniversary of my 16th birthday is coming up on Wednesday. I have been busy complaining about it until my sweet grandpa reminded me I am lucky to be another year older. The time we have, the life we live is a gift. He put my whiny ass in its proverbial place.

I am lucky for that & about 100 other reasons. I may not be where I thought I would be at 26, but maybe this life is better. And maybe baby this year will be the best yet...

Ridin' Solo

Jason Derulo wrote Ridin' Solo for my 20 hour drive from Los Angeles to Seattle, I am convinced. I literally dare you to tell me otherwise. I think I played it about 100 times on the 980 mile trek. Unable to trick anyone into driving with me, I was forced to spend some serious quality time with myself. I left Redondo Beach at noon last Wednesday with tears steadily streaming down my face. I drove for 16.5 hours! Hell bent on making it straight through, I failed. At 4:30 Thursday morning I said uncle & stopped for a nap in Woodburn, OR. Afraid of being assaulted by a trucker while sleeping in my car, I sucked it up & paid for a motel. The Super 8 super sucked. I slept in my clothes & wouldn't even shower there. I caught a few winks & was back on the road at 10am, by 1:00pm the Seattle skyline was on the horizon.

4 pit stops, 1 Wendy's, 2 middle fingers, & 25 hours. What a journey. Good to be home, even if I had to ride solo.

The Dance Continues

Sixty years of marriage is an accomplishment I can't wrap my mind around. Six years is impressive as far as I am concerned! My beautiful grandparents were wed on August 5th, 1950. A couple of kids, they met at the Bowery Dance Hall. Six decades later they are still dancing. Together they've endured the loss of loved ones, cancer, bypasses, falls, aches & pains of mind & body. But they have also rejoiced in building a family, North Dakota road trips, dumpling making marathons, camping, jam sessions, living as Arizona snow birds, & most recently Wii competitions! They are a rare example of what it looks like to say "I do" & mean it. I couldn't be more proud to be apart of the family they've created. Gramps & Grams, I love love love you. Congratulations on sixty years together, do I hear seventy??

yours always,

emily faith

God Bless America...and Mexico

I had a positively wonderful 4th of July a few weeks ago. I attended a roof top party with my room mate Noel. I drank & ate, but mostly drank. I enjoyed the summer sun, the incredible view, & the company of strangers.

At the end of the night I was ready to go, which apparently meant nothing to the cab company that was backed up for hours. After watching Charlie's Angels for about 5 minutes on Noel's boyfriend's couch I got the bright idea to walk home from Hermosa Beach to Redondo Beach. I went outside & a brighter idea came to me, hijack the Domino's delivery truck. Without a second thought I hopped in the front seat & waited. A stunned darling Mexican man got in a minute later. I begged for a ride home, pleading what I am sure was an obnoxious case. He told me he was happy to take me home but we had to make a couple of stops. Girardo & I became fast friends between deliveries & sooner than I knew it we were at 232 N Juanita. I will likely never see Girardo again, but I won't forget his kindness.

For Her Eyes Only

It is my understanding that my audience primarily consists of my dedicated sorority sisters & there are likely two potential male readers. To those two, stop reading. This post is for her eyes only. Seriously. Stop.

Last week after exhaustive talk & questioning I decided to get my first Brazilian. This is extremely personal of course, but I feel that as a part of the healing process I need to share my story.

Upon arrival at the spa I was led to the pretty little room where I've been getting my brows done for months. Little did I know this quaint room was actually a torture chamber. My miniature Chinese torturess came in & instructed me to drop trou without so much as a hello. I tried to break the ice by cracking jokes, some of my top shelf material. She looked as though she hadn't smiled in at least 30 years, & made it clear she wasn't planning on starting today.

Without hesitation I can honestly say this was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Tears were swimming in my eyes & I was sweating like Tom Vaughn walking around the block. The torturess made my gynecologist seem like Santa Claus. I can assuredly say that she was getting a kick out of the supreme pain I was in. She is lucky she didn't get a kick in the head. My legs were uncontrollably flailing about. When I would whimper or yelp she would repeatedly say "almost done." She told me she was almost done about 37 times before I asked to her please stop saying it.

After she finished the basement she wanted to work on the back door. With tears in my eyes I said "no one goes back there, let's skip it."

The part I really can't get over is that I paid her to do that to me. I gave her cash money for that abuse. In my head she should be supplying me with some sort of compensation. A muffin basket perhaps?

NYC, OMG!

Jenny & I had an extraordinary mini vaca in New York City last week. The readers digest version goes something like: champagne, red wine, hookah, mojitos, sangria, hotdogs, hangover, repeat.

My friend Rich was kind enough to vacate his Upper West Side apartment so Jenny & I could live the grand life at a price we could afford-free.

Jenny learned a lot of important NYC lessons, such as the danger of texting & jay walking, how to use the NYPD as a taxi service, pee in the street, etc. A very successful trip all in all.