emuhlee

Almost There

Well, your final video blog has arrived. 

 

A Royal Farewell

Today is Kate Middleton's 30th birthday, which deserves celebration. I mean, have we all forgotten how crazy devoted I was, getting up at 4:30 to watch the Royal Wedding?? Right. So clearly, on the birth date of the beloved Duchess of Cambridge, we shall have the most admirable celebration of them all. 

An Ode to Kate Middleton (and other English things)

1: Kate's very own haiku. 

Kate, you're beautiful, /but William is going bald./ Really work on that. 

2: One of my favorite scenes from MP&THG (esp. at 2:28)

  

3: A picture of one of my favorite moments in London (and also one of my least favorite, all at the same time). 

4: The absolute best thing about London.

5: And now, a video depicting my very *best British accent and a story about me being British. 

 

*So it's not really the best British accent I've ever done, and also I don't know why the video is semi-out of sync but whatevvvvvs. British people are laid back so I don't even ceeeh (get it, like care).

Did I Ever Tell You About...

Let me set the scene:

A couple of weeks ago, Robert and I went to visit one of the members from EH in the hospital. While we were in the waiting area, we got to talk to some of the relatives that were also there. None of that is very out of the ordinary. What is out of the ordinary...well, you'll see.

So we start up some conversations here and there about random things that don't really matter. Then, a new relative joins the scene and we begin to hear stories about them. They've been in Europe (interest peaked), they traveled all over (interest growing), they lived in Scotland (ooh I've been there!). So obsessive Emily makes her way onto the scene and starts asking all kinds of questions, neither bothered nor deterred by the personal nature of said questions. Finally, it is revealed that this person was married in Scotland. 

How fun!

Not only were they married in Scotland (how fun!), but they were married in a castle!!

How awesome!

Not only were they married in Scotland (how fun!) in a castle (how awesome!), but they were married in the MONTY PYTHON CASTLE. 

AMAAAAAAAZING.

So, let's take a moment to see how well Emily contained herself. The conversation went much like this (give or take a little exaggerative license):

relative: ..and we lived in Scotland for about _____. 

me: Oh, where did you live? I've actually been to Scotland.

R: We lived near Stirling. 

M: I went there! Were you married there?

R: Yes, we got married in a castle. 

M: A castle? That's amazing! Which castle?

R: The Doune castle, it's in...

M: Oh I know, that's the...........castle....we went to. How cool (wiggling in seat, trying to catch Robert's attention, thoroughly disinterested in the remainder of the story). 

LATER:

Me: Robert, Robert, guess what?

Robert: What? (unenthused)

M: That's the MONTY PYTHON CASTLE!!!!

R: Thank you for not shouting that earlier. 

 

It was really and truly an exciting moment for me. I do understand, however, that other people aren't necessarily as excited as I am about the Monty Python Castle. Still. Good times. It doesn't help that the Timeline feature on FB has now taken me back to times of yore, thus making me relive some of the highlights of the last 5 years. 

What's that? You want to see some pictures of the MP castle AND what you really want more than that is to see some videos I took while I was there? Well, if you just break my arm about it...

 

Three Year Anniversary

Three years ago today started an incredible journey. We all woke up restless; though it was the middle of the night we were still all wide-eyed and ready to go. The bus left at 4:30am, and I can still see the magnificent sunrise bidding us farewell on our trip to Memphis.

When we arrived at the airport, I was so disheveled that I almost walked off without my suitcase. Robert was there, and it was the most heart-wrenching goodbye I've ever felt. The next 8 hours were a blur: I remember walking around with Mason looking for this "Tim" that we didn't know and wouldn't for a couple of hours. I remember boarding the plane, having the dreaded layover in Detroit, then finally taking our seats for the long haul to Amsterdam. No in-flight movie could keep my attention. No pre-selected playlist could calm my nerves. No, I sat on the plane and cried--knowing that my entire world was changing.

Amsterdam was a fuzzy dream. By the time we arrived, it was 6:30am the next day, though I hadn't slept a wink. We were shuffled toward customs, waiting behind smelly Europeans and following this foreign group from Faulkner that we'd soon be living with. We finally found our plane (and the Netherlands volleyball team), took our seats, and started our final descent over the Alps and into Rome.

Roma was as beautiful as I'd ever imagined. I remember holding my breath as we passed the Colosseum for the first time. I remember the rolling hills between there and our quaint village of Citerna. Around every twist and turn was some majestic monument or beautiful scenery, looking just like a fresh painting I'd only seen on the computer.

We arrived at Hotel Sobaria mid-afternoon and we were instructed not to nap so that we could get our bodies on schedule. Heeding the advice, I decided to walk around this old town with my roommate Anna, a girl I'd met only hours before. We walked all around the city, down the hills and through the alley ways. We made it back to our room right at sunset, and the orange and yellow view took my breath away.

Our "first day" abroad lasted longer than 24 hours, and the rest of the trip flew by in a flash. I'll never forget, though, the taste of that first gelato, the overlook in Citerna across from the store, the feel of the old steps in Hotel Sobaria, or the view from my window.

I'll never forget what it felt like speaking my first Italian words, seeing the first glimpse of the Duomo, or being face to face with a Michaelangelo sculpture. I'll never forget the distinct taste of pizza, the tiny cola lite cans, the smell of the trains, and shopping in Arezzo. I'll never forget singing praises to our God on a cruise ship, into an ancient well, in the basement of our little hotel, and from the tops of Citerna's mighty walls.

I can't believe it's been three years. So much has changed, and yet I can still distinctly remember the way that trip changed me.

To my Europe friends I say, Sto Stoltando Guardando and "oh snap, I think it's broken." To everyone else I say, go to Europe. Let it change you. And to my beloved husband I say, thank you for always loving me, I can't wait to take that trip with you.

Friday Flashback

I've been thinking about Europe a lot lately. Maybe it's the fact that a group from my alma mater just arrived in Belgium and have been posting pictures on Facebook nonstop. Maybe it's the fact that it's almost September, and for the last two years I've gotten this Europe itch right about this time. Regardless of what it is, my thoughts have been shifting to Europe a lot. And frequently.

In my Flashback today I won't be doing any creative writing. I won't be boring you with long paragraphs about things that only people from my Europe trip would understand. Nope, I'm just gonna make some lists--because that's what I do.

Places to go in Europe if you get the chance:

1: San Gimignano, Italy. Eat the "World's Best Gelato"--and might I recommend Nutella flavored?

2: Interlaken, Switzerland. Looking for a mountain getaway? There are a lot of high-element courses for the adventure-types. Oh, and a place called Balmers to stay. It's wonderful.

3: London. You have got to see a musical while you're there. Oh, and go to Wimbledon. Ride the Tube. Curtsey in front of Buckingham Palace, and use your best British accent the entire time.

4: Roma! Before you go to Rome, you must watch the Lizzie McGuire Movie. Okthanks. Then, enjoy strolls around the Colosseum, shop by the Spanish Steps, throw a euro into the Trevvi Fountain, eat your body weight in gelato, and find the creepy Cappuccine Crypt. Oh, and eat at the Hard Rock for unlimited free refills and mac and cheese. =) Oh again--buy a Roma shirt. Scratch that-buy a shirt everywhere you go.

5: Siena, Italy. I'm just gonna throw this out there, but Letters to Juliet was filmed on location in this beautiful place, and you're just gonna need to stroll around the center of town (which is in a circle, fyi), eat more gelato, shop in the cute little shops, go to a horse race, go to the cathedral that has the St. Katherine head in it....just fun all around, really.

6: Cologne, Germany. How fun was this little accident!? Go to the cathedral right outside of the train station. It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful in the world.

Now, another list. List of places I want to either go back to or go for the first time:

1: Greeeeeeece. I mean really, I love Greece. The Placa (shopping!), the gyros (my mouth is watering already), the shoes, the water, the ruins!! Yeah. Gotta go back.

2: Israel. I remember how I felt going places where the Apostle Paul had been, I can't even imagine what it would be like to walk where Christ walked. Mind. Blown.

3: Prague. It's supposed to be incredible. I would love to go.

4: London. I didn't get to go to the British Museum and I want to so bad. Also, I want to do about 4038504308 other things--first and foremost ride one of those double decker busses! Spending 2 days in London is not enough.

5: ITALY. Remember that one time it's still THE most beautiful place on earth? Yep. Need to go back. I'm thinking a romantic getaway with the hubs one day. And then maybe I'll pack Alyssa in my suitcase since she'd kill me if I went without her.

Also, I'm just gonna throw this question out there--any of you experienced travelers (on your own) know the best/cheapest times to go to Europe? Or anywhere? What are the off seasons? Okthanksbye.

I Saw a Starfish on the Ground

I have almost been married a month! Crazy! In that time, I have blogged 2 times. Oops. In trying to think of things to blog about today, I realized that I haven't even talked about one of the most breathtaking places I've been--the Bahamas!!

Robert and I left out on a Saturday for a five day cruise to the Bahamas and let me just tell you this: everyone should go on a cruise at some point. I highly recommend it for the honeymoon scene, since it's all inclusive and there's more food than you could possibly eat, more things to do than you could possibly get to, and lots of privacy (and if you go out of the country, no cell phones so you're not bothered at ALL!).

Like I said, highly recommended.

One of the dumb things we did on our cruise was an on-shore expedition known as a "stingray adventure". Apparently, it's a real popular thing to do to swim with stingrays. Swim, with animals that have the word sting in the name. Ha. Yeah.

We talked ourselves into it while we were still in the safety of the super-huge boat. Then, as we were traveling on a smaller boat to the beautiful island of Half Moon Cay, we decided that it really couldn't be that bad. On our short trip by bus to the "cove" we started getting a little more antsy. When the lady driving the bus dropped us off and said, "Outside of the nets are the shark and barricuda nesting grounds"--we got a little less excited.

She left, and we're standing there with five other people thinking to ourselves (and out loud)--why are we here. Our tour guide lady comes over, hands us our equipment (like I know what to do with this snorkel gear), and tells us that the sting rays haven't been "de-stung" because they need that as some defense mechanism---against what? The humans that are dumb enough to come swim in their habitat? Good then.

We manned up and tip toed into the lagoon. I can't tell you how many times a girly "ooh ooh" escaped my lips when a hugemongous sting ray would brush up against my legs. I can't tell you how many times I nearly hyperventilated (in a snorkel mask--yeah, imagine it) because I was scared I was going to drown. I can't tell you how many ugly faces I made when I was holding the squid that I would later feed to said hugemongous sting ray. But, it wasn't all bad. We got to snorkel over some coral reef, big up this ridiculously large starfish (that Robert asked--out loud--if it was real or not), and I made some great memories with my husband, who learned real quick that he'd married a skiddish little scaredy-cat. Lucky him!

It was wonderful, though. And fortunately for us, only an hour-long adventure. Afterwards we walked around the island, took lots of pictures, and went to the crystal clear beach (but seriously...clearer than a pool).

So yeah, great honeymoon! And that's all you'll hear about it =)

Three (Dog Night)

Three is the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, lobbest thou thy holy hand grenade of Antioch toward thy foe, who being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.

If you haven't seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, then I hope that the above quote will help you to understand the fact that I hate you and have decided we cannot be friends anymore.

Ok, so maybe I don't hate you, but please, watch the movie. And also: THREE DAYS UNTIL THE ROYAL WEDDING!!!!!!!!!!! "Can you even believe it!!!????" she screams emphatically, figuratively shaking you by the shoulders.

I am beyond stoked for this "wedding of the century". And so, to allow you to share in my excitement, I am going to share with you (as promised) a few *photos from LONDON BABY!

First, Westminster Abbey, where the beloved couple will be married.




Next, an official shout out to London because they have Diet Coke and not the impossibly far-fetched imposter cola light.




Alright, now we'll go to the Buckingham Palace for a courtsey and a smile to the old Queen mum herself.




Perhaps a stroll to the courts of Wimbledon is in order on this fabulous Tuesday afternoon.




As the night falls we'll catch a glimpse of The Eye.



Of course, it wouldn't be a London trip without a show!



One final stop at Big Ben... (with an obligatory picture of a phone booth!)



and now we say okbye to London!

Now, you may be thinking, "Emily, you loved being in London so much and you're so in love with London, why is this your okbye picture?!" The answer is three-fold.

1: It was literally 3 in the morning and Shane had forgotten/lost/misplaced his passport and we were going to be late.

2: We were having our final moment in Europe. That doesn't make for a happy picture, people. 

3: This picture makes me laugh so much that it had to be my okbye picture.

 SO, three days, people. I hope you're getting your beauty rest now, because we're all going to be up at the buttcrack of dawn on Friday watching His Royal Highness marry the beautiful Catherine Elizabeth Middleton.  *insert girly giggly scream now*

 *Also, don't judge these pictures. Most of them were taken at a point in my life where showering wasn't optional, as in, it wasn't an option at all!

A Personal Journey

In case you missed it (and you probably did), I did a post a long while back about finding my inner tv personality. The number one tv personality I can relate to is none other than Haley James Scott, aka Bethany Joy Galeotti. Well, she is offering guest submissions on her blog, so I'm writing based on the promt she's given: a personal journey.

My personal journey began in the fall of 2008. As a petrified junior in college, I boarded a massive plane with a group of 25 or so people I didn't know and flew across the world. That was the beginning of my three month stint of living in Italy. And, while most personal journies don't have to occur while you're actually taking a physical journey, mine did.

The journey was hard and long and wonderful and breathtaking and memorable and amazing. It was frustrating and heartbreaking and irritating and invigorating. As I traveled from place to place, country to country, train car to train car, I learned who I was. I hurt people in the process, and even hurt myself, but I figured something out: I am stronger than I've ever known.

Before I went to Europe, I was fragile at best. I grew up in a small town and didn't really have big dreams. I had accepted my fate, and tended to blend in to the ever-moving world around me. I didn't think I was special, didn't think I would ever have anything special, and I definitely didn't believe I'd live three months of my life in a special, life-changing place.

In Europe, though, I realized that I could be anything I wanted. I could do anything I wanted. I could accomplish anything I dreamed. My dreams and plans weren't tied to a school or a town or a boy or a friend or my self-image. My dreams weren't limited by professors or enemies or parents or bullies. No, my dreams were limitless. My life was in the hands of an Almighty Father who'd use me in ways I could never have dreamed of on my own.

Walking in such enchanting lands which possessed such rich history made me realize how small I was, and yet how blessed I had always been. I had been defining myself, my entire life, by someone else's standards. In Europe, though, I felt as free and vast as the Tuscan countryside. I felt as rock solid as the ancient ruins. I felt as beautiful as the architecture in Florence.

It was there that I found myself. Somewhere between the visits to the museums and the strolls through the forgotten cities, I found what had been buried within me for so long: confidence, purpose, and self-worth.

Wordly Wednesday take __

Who knows how many times I've blogged, on a Wednesday, about world travels. At least twice. If you're interested at all in my world travels, go here or here! Today, though, it's not about that. It's not about the umpteen countries I've visited or about my random run-ins with crazy locals or my fun time road trips. No, today is about hopes. And dreams. And visions of grandeur and things like that.

Basically, it's cloudy and rainy and gross and cold and I want to be somewhere far, far away. Somewhere like this:

Or this:

Or perhaps even this:

Yeah. Somewhere like that. Or, that exactly.

While this may be a bit premature, I'm going to do a post about the beach. Sure, it's the beginning of March. And sure, I have no immediate plans of beaching. Still. The beach is an important topic. Why?

1: You need to know how to beach.

Some people do not. Some people don't know that you're not supposed to put the tanning oil in the sand because it gets icky. Some people don't know that you're not supposed to shake your towel out when you're near people. Some people don't know you're not supposed to get real close to other fellow beachers who were there first. See, knowing how to beach is important! I'm sure my bestie Alyssa would whole-heartedly agree.

2: You need to know what to take to the beach.

Necessary items include: beverages (ahem, diet coke --and mello yello if I'm taking Robert), tanning oil, sunscreen (regardless of if you think you need it or not--answer: you do!), towels, chairs, a book, sunflower seeds, other assortments of beachy snacks (ie: salty foods, closable bags, etc), lemon juice (if you have blonde hair and would like it to be blonder!), music, shades, flip flops, a bag, and other items that you don't mind getting sandy.

3: You need to know what to do at the beach:

You need to read. Even if you don't like reading, you need to read at the beach. Something about the sunshine and sound of waves makes everyone a reader.

You need to walk. I don't care if you like exercise or not, you need to walk along the shoreline. And while we're at it: you need to look for seashells.

You need to relax. Note in the aforementioned necessities list I did not mention cell phone. The beach is no place for working. Relax and enjoy.

 

And now? You all need to calm down. Summer isn't here yet, unfortunately, so just remain calm and try to hold off for a few more weeks. I'll do my best to hold off on any more pictures of the Bahamas so as not to get all of our hopes up. But in a few weeks...Well, then we can all start planning our respective summer getaways!

PS: My BFF Alyssa mentioned another key factor in how to beach. Don't feed the birds. I cannot say enough amens to this. Cannot. Oooh I hate birds. So much. What's worse than birds, though, are people who feed birds. Just annoying.

If we moved to Italy...

If my family and I were forced to leave our home and go somewhere else to spend the rest of our days for some reason or another, be it persecution, job relocation, mission work, or simply having enough money to do so, I would choose to go to Italy. I feel my life, as well as the lives of my children, would be enriched by the culture that an Italian town like Firenze could offer.

Since my family wouldn't speak Italian, life might be overwhelming at first. We'd have no way of communicating fluently with the people we now call our neighbors. Just when I thought shopping was an international craze, even that would be different ! Instead of grocery stores and credit cards, we would do our shopping in the market, and only gather as much food as we needed for the day. I would have to learn to cook, and cook well! Women in Italy don't just not cook! Then there would be the all-important task of educating my children. Maybe, though, educating my children in Italy wouldn't be too terribly hard.  After all, I could educate my children (as well as myself!) by taking them to see famous paintings and sculptures such as Michelangelo's David.

On a typical day, we would eat the world's best and most fattening gelato while traveling the crowded streets toward the Ponte Vecchio. We would climb the Bell Tower and examine the detail of the Duomo. We would eat our body weight in pizza and nutella (not together, of course!), and learn to speak, with ease, the world's most soothing and romantic language.

When life in the city became too much, we would travel to the small towns of Siena and Arezzo, where we would eat fantastico kebaps and take in the beautiful Tuscan countryside as we nibbled and shopped and snacked some more. After becoming so accustomed to miles and miles of walking, the rides to and fro the tiny towns on the mucho stinko Italian busses would be a nice break.

I would have to train my children to love the rich taste of true orange Fanta and the awkward taste of Cola Lite. For a reward, we would travel on 13-hour train rides to Switzerland so that they could partake of their favorite sodas, Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew. We'd even visit the bear pit, and take nice von Trapp-like strolls along the countryside. If my children decided that the mountain life wasn't for them, we'd rent a little smart car (since the smelly busses would become just a bit too much after a while) and drive as carefully as one can drive in Italy over to the coast--to Cinque Terre. We'd make sure we went to a non-nudist beach in Monterosso, then relax by the calming teal waters of the Mediterranean. For lunch we would go to Genoa, and even have a little lesson about Columbus, and the land we'd left behind. "Good riddance", they'd say, as they strolled the ancient streets and saw the magnificent only-in-Italy sunset.

After an exhausting day of walking and shopping and eating and thinking and seeing, we'd settle into our quaint Tuscan villa. Robert and I would put the kids to bed, walk back up to our sun room, and sip hot tea (or some other classy sounding drink that we'd like once we got there) as we listened to the nothingness outside of our opened window.

*all italicized "Italian" words may not actually be Italian words. Deal with it. Artistic license.