It's Tuesday and if Rebecca Black were here she would remind you all that Wednesday comes next and Thursday comes afterwoooorrrdddssss.

So I hope you are doing everything in your power to make me sickeningly famous in less than 2 short days.
    My apartment looks like there was an angry apparel poltergeist making itself at home last night. My washer and dryer are still chillin' in storage and because I'm no longer single, wearing something low-cut and hanging out at the gym in order to recruit a truck and some muscle is apparently looked down upon. We had someone all lined up to haul my machines to me last night, but he bailed at the last second. I'm thinking he harbors a secret fetish for worn-three-times-this-week-already jeans on other people.
    Anyway, we did laundry at a random apartment complex and our clothes still were not all the way dry by about 10:30 and I don't know what it is about marriage, but if it's even one second past 10:31 p.m. then it's must be your birthday because ain't no one gonna screw with my solid 9 hours. Anyway, we hung all the wet clothes on anything we could, which meant opening all kitchen cupboards. Can you see it now? Terrifying, right? I was actually convincing myself that there was a creepy, other-worldly presence in the house throwing my unmentionables in every which way.
    Flash forward 4 minutes. Bedtime. Since moving to this new place, Drew has decided he wants to start sleeping with the bedroom door open. Now, as a kid, I ALWAYS slept with the bedroom door open because if a monster was going to devour me, I was NOT going to be an easy meal. I would run and fight and scream and hopefully my young life would end in an epic (albeit clichéd) scene with my hand near the floor, wrapped around the door frame, gripping for dear life as it slowly slipped into a monster-y abyss whereupon my parents would find no trace of me in the morning and then would wail in mournful sorrow, "if only I had listened to my dear, perfect Emily! If only I had cleared the monsters out!" That would definitely show them.
Oh, right! Bedtime. Door. Open. Cue complaining from me because I am not a kid anymore and have come to understand the strength and sheer power of an interrupted slumber. By 25 years old, I figured that if a monster was brave enough to wake me, then it was also dumb enough to get in a fight with me, at which point, it would die just from the daggars in my stare. So I liked sleeping with the door closed because one, I am not afraid to eff up any monsters I need to, and two, house noises keep me up. But on this night there was a third reason to close the door: the panty-flinging poltergeist in the kitchen. Drew was like "We put the clothes up ourselves" and I was all like "Yeah but it looks like an angry ghost did it." And then he was like "Even if there was a ghost and we closed the bedroom door, do you think it would make a difference?"
"....Why would you say that?! Now we have to close the door! Also, think about how creepy it would be to see a shadow moving on the wall, coming towards our door!"
"Ghosts don't cast shadows."
"But aliens do."

And then he closed the door. I don't know how many nights in a row I can use aliens to my advantage. And I don't know what else gives Drewbies goosebumps. Ghosts are clearly out unless I can really convince him. Ooo! Maybe I could make him watch me put all the clothes away tonight, but then, at like, 2 a.m. I could put them all back in the kitchen exactly as they were. But then he might come up with some stupidly rational conclusion like "I must leave the door open in order to know how to protect you."
Psh.
Anyway, Drew just got home and he wants to snuggle. And by 'he' I mean 'me' and by snuggle I mean snuggle. Whatever you brought to that last part was your own filth.

'Blog' sounds like 'blob' which reminds me of jello.

Sooooo welcome to my blog? Yeah that's a question because your homegirl here has no idea what she's doing. The only reason I sorta kinda know what a blog is, is because people have told me I should start one.  Seriously, though. Blog? Who came up with that word?  I'll ask Google real quick.......Ah! "Web Log". Weblog. Blog. BLOG.
Well now that the world makes sense, I suppose we can move on.
To whoever reads this (which, let's be real now, is maybe my Facebook friends) I need to be famous by Thursday. Seeing as today is Thursday, you either have a lot of work to do or you have a full week. Do what you have to, but make it happen.
Also, I know I am not the first to make this not at all outrageous, totally reasonable, non-insane request to be famous by Thursday. Allie of Hyperbole and a Half was my guiding light. Holla at ya gurl.
So I need to be famous by Thursday and you may be saying to yourself "Woah, now Emily. What happens if you do get famous by Thursday? Your blog's name is always going to be 'Famous by Thursday'! Won't that mess with your world view? Won't it mess with my worldview?!"
No.
I googled 'famous by Thursday' just to make sure no one else had that name. Turns out "Famous by Thursday" shows up on some lyrics site. I almost got discouraged but then 2 things happened: 1) The page didn't load fast enough so I decided it was safe to proceed with my name, and 2) I thought "Hey, maybe somebody will look for lyrics and stumble upon my blog instead and then I will be famous!" Win-win.
Alright. So I'm recently unemployed. That sucks, right? Not so. That company probably kicked puppies, painted butterfly wings poop brown, and were those creeps your parents warned you about poisoning your Halloween candy as a kid. I knew I didn't belong mainly because I have a soul. And it was only 7 short months before they got really afraid that my soul posessing-ness was going to touch them and get morals and ethics all over their slimy dearth of integrity. So good riddance and naner-naner-boo-boo I never liked you.
For the past month, I have been wondering what good my political science degree is as I have been getting rejected for jobs that a 6 year-old could land. I did get to take a trip back home to Oregon to visit my homegirls and Baby Bro. Also, I was able to move into a new apartment that is only slightly bigger than a mint tin. Overall, unemployment isn't so bad. I've gotten into a show that I'll call "Stories and Flashbacks About How I Married My Spouse" and I've actually started doing all those exercises that I've pinned. Aaaaannnnddddd I started a blog. :D
Penis