Ten Reasons Why I Love The Sweater dress

1.  It comes in a variety of colors

2.  You can buy them with long or shirt sleeves.  Side note:  I have short sleeve sweater dresses, but they do confuse me.  If they are sweater dresses, should they not only be worn when it’s cold and therefore only have long sleeves?

3.  When I was skinny, they made me look more voluptuous.  But now that I am carrying around a few more pounds, they magically make me look slimmer.  This is because they are the perfect article of clothing.

4.  You can wear them with boots or pumps, just no sneakers or sandals.  Well, maybe you could pair a short sleeved one with some gladiators, but that would be way edgy (that’s for you Becky).

5.  Wash and wear baby, wash and wear.

Um, well, so, this is embarassing.  There really aren’t ten reasons, just five. 

Go, pick you up a new dress.  Make sure it’s made out of yarn.  Call it a day.

Let them eat cake

I had a birthday yesterday. My 37th one.  I managed to make it as miserable of a day as I could.  And blamed the entire world for it.  It’s the world’s fault that I am 37.  It’s the world’s fault that my back hurts.  It’s the world’s fault that I did not get any birthday cake.  Waaaaah.  Please.  It’s a gift from God that I am 37.  It’s my own fault that my back hurts because I stopped working out.  And it’s my own goddamn fault for not having any cake.  Not everyone likes cake.  Shit, I’m not even a fan of cake.  But for some rason, I have to have my birthday cake, and God help the poor people who do not present the cake to me.  Wow.  Really?  What happened to the woman who four years ago baked her very own Thanksgiving Day feast and was very happy to share it with her two cats?  That woman was not fond of pity parties.  I am very capable of baking, and I am actually very good at it.  I am also capable of going to a coffee shop and BUYING a piece of already made cake if I really don’t want to make my own.  I always have a lighter with which to light my birthday candle with.  And I am also very capable of showing the ones who love me and took the time, money and effort to recognize this day, that I appreciate all that they do, and that I love them for simply being a part of my life.  I am capable of not waiting around to see if my loved ones are going to guess what tickles my pickle.  If I really wanted cake that bad  yesterday, I should have gone and gotten myself some, and then if others decided to bring me cake, fantastic.  But if they did not think to do this, then I would not have been disappointed because I would have fulfilled my own stupid, infantile wish.  It’s time for this dilluted person to go back to the woman that she was four years ago.  The one who only expected things from herself.  The world is not going to stop to celebrate because there is nothing for them to celebrate.  It’s a day.  My day.  And I should use that day to thank them for everything that they do for me daily.  Not sit around waiting for them to be at my spoiled little girl beck and call.  So today, I am going to bake.  And I will serve my cake to the ones who mean the most to me, and when I blow out that birthday candle, my wish will be that these loving people will forgive my selfishness, and that they will eat cake with me.

Say hello to my leetel friend…

Back when I was  a chubby, perm haired, zitty faced 12 year old, I met the girl who would become my very best friend in life.  When you are that age, you think that all of your friends will be your friends 4-ever, but as we now know as adults, that is simply not true.   Add the fact that most of my friends were children of Navy people, and that right there pretty much diminishes those odds even more.  After two years, they would move back to the States, and leave my chubby behind in Italy.  We would write letters, but eventually those would stop.  Until Erin.  As I recall it, we were insta-friends.  I thought she had the most beautiful hair I had ever seen on a human, and Jesus did she make me laugh.  Erin and I went to 8th grade together and then we started highschool together, but, the summer before our Sophomore year, her family got transferred back to the States.  I thought I had lost my friend.  But instead, the letters never stopped, and my parents didn’t mind the long distance phone calls, because even they had such a love for Erin.  I think anyone who is around her immediately adores her.  She radiates love, charm, this incredible smile, an infectious laugh, gives the best advice, and the warmest hugs.  When I was 17, my family got transferred to New Orleans.  Erin was the first personI called when I got my very own phone in my very own room.  Iwent to visit her in Indiana, and she came to visit me in New Orleans.  We were 18, drinking hurricanes, smoking our Marlboro Lights, and dancing our patooties off.  She then moved to Portland.  The years passed, the letters turned to emails,  the phone calls were always weekly, and I would see her at least once a year.  In our 20’s we watched each other grow from what felt like a million miles away.  Our careers, our friendships, relationships, etc.  I was there for her wedding and she was the most beautiful bride.  We have grown a bit older, and maybe the phone calls are not as frequent as they once were, but she has two drop-dead gorgeous children,  an adoring husband, and a great career.  The last time that I saw her was almost two years ago.  I went to visit my little sister in Seattle, and Erin, her huband Justin, and their precious daughter Gracie drove four hours just to come see me.  It had been a few years since I had felt that warm Erin hug, but when I saw her, it felt like no time had passed.  We can pick up right where we left off, be it four years ago.  She’s that friend that I don’t have to say words to, but just make eye contact, and she will know what the hell it is that I am trying to say, and vice versa.  I think all women have one of those friends.  Tonight, husband and I watched the movie Bridesmaids, and it is by far one of the funniest movies I have ever seen.  There is a part in the movie where Wilson-Phillips comes in and sings their hit song, and I spontaneously burst into tears.  Not sad tears, but tears of “I know that song!  Erin and I would listen to it just about every damn morning on the school bus on her walkman with our one pair of headphones.”  And so I had to call her afterwards and tell her that.  And even though that woman was cooking dinner for her five year old, and her little baby boy was crying, she answered the phone, and shared that memory with me.  This year, we wil have been friends for 25 years.  That is truly something magical to me.  Erin, I hope that you read this, and I hope that you know (although I think that you do), that you are an incredible part of me.  Thank you for the love, laughs and hugs through the years.  And here is to another 25 years of more laughs, love, and hugs.  Ti voglio bene, Eleonora.

Are we there yet?

Another year is quickly coming to an end.  Husband and I were chit chatting last night and he asked how I felt about another year going by.  My response was that I was actually excited to be done with 2011.  This is unusual for me, since every New Year I get melancholy, knowing that my birthday is just around the corner and that I will be the dreaded OLDER!  But this year, it’s different.  2011 had some truly great moments.  Husband and I got to go to Washington DC, we went on a cruise to Cozumel with our friends, and we went to a fabulous wedding in San Diego.  Husband is a really fun travel partner.  We went to a Mardi Gras ball, and I got to pretend like I was going to the prom by treating myself to a beautiful dress, getting my hair and make-up done, and dancing the night away.  My stepson graduated daycare and started big boy school, uniform, packed lunches, and all.

But, 2011 had some challenges for me.  I was struggling keeping my mind together at my old job.  I was stressed all the time, mostly self infllicted stress I admit.  And then, there was the wreck.  I thank God every day that the only thing that was damaged in that wreck was that Jeep.  The most frustrating thing is that my memory is shot to shit these days.  Apparently it’s a normal occurrence following a concussion, but it is absolutely annoying.  I have have had to get into the habit of leaving myself notes in the office and at home, so that the next day I know what the hell was going on the day before.  That is part of the reason for this blog.

Anywho, following the wreck, life changed.  I left my old job, and husband said “Take a break”.  He then sent me to visit my little sister in California who is planning her wedding.  When I got back, I got a new car, worked two part time jobs, and became a semi-housewife.  That’s when I decided that I MUST have a dog.  Uh, no.  So, in August, I got a new full time job and adopted a puppy.  New job is great, puppy lasted about four months in our house, but he is happily living with a young guy and his other dog, so it all worked out.

I will turn 37 years old in 2012.  Sounds old as dirt to me, but I know that it’s not.  It’s not 27, but I don’t particulaly remember 27 being such a fantastic age.  I don’t know about other people, particularly women, but the 30’s have ceratinly brought on much more clarity.  I feel happier, prettier and smarter.  When I was in my 20’s, I was the girl with the combat boots, crazy hair color, working two jobs to pay the rent, taking the bus or taxis, or walking, because I did not know how to drive.  I thought I was physically hideous and mentally stupid because I did not go to college.  Looking at old pictures, I wasn’t hideous, I just looked “different”.  I just hadn’t been introduced to a flat iron.  I really do think that the introduction of the flat iron changed my life.  🙂

And of course, keeping with  the theme of this blog, there was no Charlie in my 20’s.  That little booger met me after the big 3-0.

So here’s to you all.  May your 2012 be filled with a supportive and loving spouse or companion, may your children grow like weeds, and may you all be blessed with a Charlie or two.

And so it begins…

My name is Ellie.  This is my second attempt at the world of blogging.  Lately, thanks to the fabulousness that is Pinterest, I have had the opportunity to read some very interesting blogs.  Mostly funny ones, because I am by nature drawn to funny, but also some really great food blogs.

I guess I will start out with who I am.  Again, name is Ellie.  I am married to a wonderful man who brings the funny to my life every single day.  Does he piss me off sometimes?  Absolutely.  That is part of a spouse’s job, right?

The wonderful man came with a fabulous little boy.  He was a year and a half when my husband and I started dating, and he is now a very funny five year old.  Like, really funny.

I came with two cats, Dolce and Charlie.  Dolce did not make the cut in the house since she was always a nervous cat, so she now lives with my parents in Florida and she loves it there.  Charlie, well, Charlie was a different story.  I don’t have any biological children of my own, but I have always wondered what that magical love that mothers talk about after they birth their human babies.  How there is no other love like it.  Charlie to me is the closest thing that I can imagine that love to be like.  And it was instantenous.  I found the little guy on Petfinder.  I was specifically looking for a Siamese mix kitten (female) and found one.  But when I got in touch with the lady that had her, she had already been adopted.  However, the lady told me that one of her neighbors had a little stray siamese kitten living on his farm.  He’d been abandoned by his mom.  Must have been the runt.  I said I’ll take him.  He was delivered to me in a box.  He was filthy, flea infested  and very, very small.  He was so small that his first litter box was a frisby.  But he was the little engine that could.  He quickly won me and Dolce over with his little self.  Early on I noticed that his eyesight was just not very good and his reflexes a little slow.  I decided to not have him tested.  I loved him too much.  I saw no faults in him.  He now weighs well over 20 lbs.  And he is a hunk of love.  My husband has slowly developed quite an affection for him.  I think they appreciate how easy they both are compared to me.  I cry a lot.  I’m a chick.  Husband doesn’t always entetain the crying, but Charlie does.  Especially in the middle of the night.  He will always find me, sit on my lap and kiss my face.  That’s the magic of his love.

And so, there you have the beginnings of us…