tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28299287454047739842024-03-12T22:52:20.710-04:00Extra Dressing on. the. SideElahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-68617532873263623782010-05-11T00:08:00.002-04:002010-05-11T00:09:19.015-04:00Winner NEXT Giveaway<div style="text-align: center;">Thank you to all who entered the <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/04/next-please.html"><b>NEXT Giveaway</b></a>.<br />
I wish you could all be winners!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My apologies for the delayed winner announcement,<br />
I meant to do this earlier today...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
This girl is probably the luckiest girl I know. But she's also one of the kindest, sweetest girls I know.<br />
Making her super deserving of all the giveaways out there.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Congratulations, <b><a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/">KS</a></b>! </div><div style="text-align: center;">Random.org certainly LOVES you :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ela</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">p.s. Be back in a few days!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hope you're all having a great week!</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-58557598847398200552010-05-06T10:52:00.003-04:002010-05-06T16:31:01.987-04:00The Love of My Life<div style="text-align: justify;">In the past few weeks, S and I have faced some things that have caused us to reflect on how much we <b>truly</b>, <span style="font-size: large;">deeply</span>, love one another. No, we never questionned it. Not for a minute. I say this, simply because when faced with <b><a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/03/heart-to-heart.html">this</a></b>, and going through it together... </div><div style="text-align: center;">...every</div><div style="text-align: center;">step</div><div style="text-align: center;">of the way...</div><div style="text-align: center;">we feel so grateful and<span style="font-size: large;"> blessed</span> to have one another.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He is my rock. He is my strength. He is my best friend.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S-LVzS--N9I/AAAAAAAACGw/9XKWDFltQkE/s1600/CF+Apr+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S-LVzS--N9I/AAAAAAAACGw/9XKWDFltQkE/s320/CF+Apr+10.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">He is the love of my life.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's been a wave of emotions these last few weeks.<br />
And today, I am incredibly humbled and inspired to watch this, and see the <b style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHDvxPjsm8E">beautiful Nielson family</a></b>, who through trials and their faith, have so enriched the lives of others. Life is so beautiful and <i>"oh so good</i>".<br />
<br />
Have a lovely weekend everyone!<br />
xo Ela<br />
p.s. Enter the <b style="color: blue;"><a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/04/next-please.html">NEXT Classic 5 Giveaway</a></b> if you haven't already<br />
p.p.s. Canadian and International readers, please be patient with me, giveaway is in the works :)</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-18425715765381425052010-04-28T23:00:00.023-04:002010-05-11T00:00:19.979-04:00NEXT Giveaway - CLOSED"NEXT please"...words I absolutely love to hear when I've been waiting in a queue for an extended period of time, but it's also something I've been saying since my fabulous <b><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en/shot/G75/18/5?pid=710648&curr=usd&returnurl=%2fshop%2fgatt2%2f1%2fcat%2f144%2f3%3fnxti%3d0%26nxtv%3d000%26isort%3dscore%26curr%3dusd%26country%3dus%26lang%3den&bct=%26quot%3bShop%20By%20Product%26quot%3b%26nbsp%3b%26gt%3b%26nbsp%3bWomen%26nbsp%3b%26gt%3b%26nbsp%3bCoats%20%26amp%3b%20jackets&lang=en&country=us&curr=usd" style="color: black;">Black and White Stripe Jacket</a></b>, courtesy of the stylish and generous folks at <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en#LID=01_02_01">NEXT</a></b>, arrived in the mail a little while ago. I LOVE it! And am already thinking about the <i>next</i> <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en#LID=01_02_01">NEXT</a></b> item I want.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jyUzfEHnI/AAAAAAAACGQ/gBJddzeZm4k/s1600/Next+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jyUzfEHnI/AAAAAAAACGQ/gBJddzeZm4k/s400/Next+3.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jya9j1O8I/AAAAAAAACGg/5lm_tfXCdUw/s1600/Next+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jySNfaPUI/AAAAAAAACGI/g7YfAVFhhIo/s1600/Next+1g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jySNfaPUI/AAAAAAAACGI/g7YfAVFhhIo/s400/Next+1g.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jya9j1O8I/AAAAAAAACGg/5lm_tfXCdUw/s1600/Next+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jya9j1O8I/AAAAAAAACGg/5lm_tfXCdUw/s1600/Next+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9jya9j1O8I/AAAAAAAACGg/5lm_tfXCdUw/s400/Next+4.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">um...the vent gave me a bit of an unchoreographed Marilyn Monroe moment there...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>For over 25 years, <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en#LID=01_02_01">NEXT</a></b> has been one of Britain’s most popular brands – acclaimed for its mastery of classic contemporary style evidenced in the combination of outstanding design, great quality and true value. When <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en#LID=01_02_01">NEXT</a></b> contacted me and asked if I'd like to receive one of their <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=153411&id=199802962351">Classic 5</a></b> I said, "<strike>heck yeah</strike>!!!" "Yes, please!!!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9infX1s0EI/AAAAAAAACFw/wxI1viuWZls/s1600/Next+Classic+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="80" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S9infX1s0EI/AAAAAAAACFw/wxI1viuWZls/s400/Next+Classic+5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">{Classic 5}</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I love all five pieces but was so drawn to the <b><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en/shot/G75/18/5?pid=710648&curr=usd&returnurl=%2fshop%2fgatt2%2f1%2fcat%2f144%2f3%3fnxti%3d0%26nxtv%3d000%26isort%3dscore%26curr%3dusd%26country%3dus%26lang%3den&bct=%26quot%3bShop%20By%20Product%26quot%3b%26nbsp%3b%26gt%3b%26nbsp%3bWomen%26nbsp%3b%26gt%3b%26nbsp%3bCoats%20%26amp%3b%20jackets&lang=en&country=us&curr=usd" style="color: black;">Black and White Stripe Jacket</a></b>. Isn't it fabulous??? What's even more fabulous is that <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1754228147">NEXT</a></b> wants to give one of my readers a chance to win one of the Classic 5 pieces. And the best part,<b> you</b> get to choose which one you want!<br />
<br />
For <b>ONE</b> entry:<br />
i) Be or become a follower of this blog<br />
<b>and</b><br />
ii) Tell me <b>which of the Classic 5</b> you'd like to win. And how you'd wear it.<br />
<br />
For an <b>EXTRA</b> entry:<br />
i) In addition to above, post this giveaway on your blog, add it to your sidebar, or tweet about it, just make sure to leave me another comment telling me you've done so, with the link.<br />
<br />
For <b>ANOTHER EXTRA</b> entry:<br />
i) On a separate comment, visit <b style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.nextdirect.com/us/en#LID=01_02_01">NEXT</a></b> online and tell me what your favourite item is. FYI, I am in love with their dresses!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Giveaway will be open till <b>May 9th</b>.<br />
Winner will be picked via random.org and announced <b>May 10th</b>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Open to US residents only. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Good luck, everyone!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ela</div><div style="text-align: center;">p.s. Canadian and International readers, stay tuned for a little something-something <b>next week!</b><br />
p.p.s. Thank you, sweet <b><span style="color: magenta;"><a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/">KS</a></span></b>. I heart you.</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-33483649859460307482010-04-19T12:28:00.000-04:002010-04-19T12:28:59.279-04:00Shirley Temple on the Rocks<div style="text-align: center;">Hey guys, are you still here???</div><div style="text-align: center;">These past few weeks...eek, I can barely put in words. Here are a few high(?)lights.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S8yB0A7TfsI/AAAAAAAACFg/CEGmnQTZSZY/s1600/STotr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S8yB0A7TfsI/AAAAAAAACFg/CEGmnQTZSZY/s320/STotr.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Smiling on the outside with my Shirley Temple curls...</div><div style="text-align: center;">that smile is about to disappear.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>My kitchen faucet, sprays water. That's good, right? Well last week it sprayed water from places that water should not be coming out of. It gave my kitchen blinds a nice wash though. I refused to call a plumber and "fixed" the problem by going all McGiver with a butter knife. No seriously, that's what I did. It seems to have stopped the leakage. Fingers crossed. Have I mentioned our home is less than two years old...<br />
<br />
I've been battling with a skin rash I got from being around my friend's dog (I'm allergic to everything). Two weeks later it was barely any better. Turns out the cream I was given has a side effect, that shows up in about 1% of the population (yay me), of causing a skin rash. Did you get that? A cream that <b>combats</b> skin rash but actually can <b>cause</b> a skin rash. Can I say, WTHeck??? So, I'm now using two creams, one to fight off the rash and another to fight off the second skin rash the first cream is causing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S8yB1XhchzI/AAAAAAAACFo/YLt0MmqIPYI/s1600/STotr2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S8yB1XhchzI/AAAAAAAACFo/YLt0MmqIPYI/s320/STotr2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">FACE = WTHeck??? </div><div style="text-align: center;">Notice the one smaller eye with the puffier eye bag. Yup, that's what happens when I feel stressed. Serenity now, serenity now!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The other day S was pulling out of the garage then I heard some sort of commotion. Turns out our garage door decided to come off its tracks. Or thankfully(?) track, as in just on one side. It took 3 <b>strong</b> men and 3 hours later just to get the door back on the ground. We've had to leave it unopened this last week to you know, prevent it from <b>killing</b> anyone. We are still waiting to hear back from the garage people about when they can come to "service" it. Have I mentioned that our home is less than two years old....<br />
<br />
When cleaning our master ensuite last week, I dropped a bottle of nail polish. On our bathroom tiles. Amazing how a small bottle can cause <strike>so much tears</strike> such a mess. Did I mention that our tiles are a creamy off white? Did I mention that the nail polish was <b><span style="color: red;">RED</span></b>??? Long story short, I got it off the tiles but we need to regrout some. S was sweet enough to tell me not to worry, that it's super easy to fix. Bless his heart.<br />
<br />
I had to make a fondant cake for my BFF's little girl. 20+ hours later, no I'm <b>not</b> exagerrating, I got her Dora cake done. Never. Again.<br />
Pics to follow...seem to have misplaced my camera. Seriously.<br />
<br />
Anyway, that's just a piece of the last few weeks, there's more but then you'd think I'm lying so let's just leave it at that. MISS you all!!! Off to catch up on all you lovelies.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> xoxo</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-84135969458263045642010-04-05T00:00:00.020-04:002010-04-05T12:39:04.495-04:00Things I...Ch 3A few days ago after a heavy lunch, S and I decided to take a <strike>long walk short stroll</strike> few steps in the park. It's amazing what I learned from the <strike>brief</strike> time I was there...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">1. Heels + Rocks = Not such a good idea. Did I really just learn this now?</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjjX_x7_I/AAAAAAAACE4/ezZYK4gBvB0/s1600/Blue+White+Step2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjjX_x7_I/AAAAAAAACE4/ezZYK4gBvB0/s400/Blue+White+Step2.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">2. All you need is a safety pin to add some dimension to a long top/tunic.<br />
Just gather and pin {pin from the inside. duh}</div><div style="text-align: center;">3. Looking down as you step from rock to rock = Good idea.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjhQv1VBI/AAAAAAAACEw/u8VRV7gxnxo/s1600/Blue+White+Step.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjhQv1VBI/AAAAAAAACEw/u8VRV7gxnxo/s400/Blue+White+Step.jpg" width="277" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">4. I can't do up my hair in a bun at this length, but I can do a <i>ponyhawk</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">5. I squint a <strike>lot</strike> little when the sun is in my eyes.<br />
Which makes me look a tad angry, no? HA.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjZDdNJYI/AAAAAAAACEQ/HuLbWPc8rmk/s1600/Blue+White+Pond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="326" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjZDdNJYI/AAAAAAAACEQ/HuLbWPc8rmk/s400/Blue+White+Pond.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">6. I kinda like hay....that is what this <i>is</i> right?</div><div style="text-align: center;">7. Whoa. I gotta lot of moles. See the 4 on my cheek alone?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjfjFdf7I/AAAAAAAACEo/DMF5YCtPamg/s1600/Blue+White+Side.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZjfjFdf7I/AAAAAAAACEo/DMF5YCtPamg/s400/Blue+White+Side.jpg" width="252" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">8. Pockets on skirts are awesome but so are pockets on tops! </div><div style="text-align: center;">Perfect for putting my glasses in. Oh wait, where'd they go?</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">9. The best part about taking a walk <strike>in heels</strike> is finding a place to sit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZklwzqHgI/AAAAAAAACFA/uozwTC829ko/s1600/Blue+White+Rock+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7ZklwzqHgI/AAAAAAAACFA/uozwTC829ko/s400/Blue+White+Rock+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">10. Big rocks are actually quite comfy. Not even kidding. This one would've been perfect for my lawn or backyard. Made me wish I had a flatbed truck to haul it. Or a big monster of a man to pick up perfect rock-chair on his back.<br />
Though it's probably illegal to steal rocks from a park... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Blazer</i> - Necessary Objects, <i>Striped Tank</i> - Winners<br />
<i>Ankle Zip Grey 'Jeggings' </i>{<i>I hate that word</i>} - H&M, <i> </i><br />
<i>Grey Suede Shoes</i> - Juicy Couture<i> </i><br />
<i>Earrings</i> - Heidi Klum, <i>Necklace</i> - Adina Reyter<i> </i><br />
<i>Rest of jewelry</i>- Vintage<br />
<br />
Sorry for all the pics in the same outfit. I cropped my head out of a few so you wouldn't have to keep staring at my face.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You're welcome.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Learn anything new lately? </div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-5167152827530192172010-04-03T15:00:00.001-04:002010-04-03T15:14:52.940-04:00Thank You!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7eS9rnAZJI/AAAAAAAACFI/imMG5gpoHj4/s1600/Thank+You.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7eS9rnAZJI/AAAAAAAACFI/imMG5gpoHj4/s400/Thank+You.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
Just a lil thank you note from me to you.<br />
Hopefully you can see the "<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">thank you</span></b>" written on the cupcake! </div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for all your sweet and supportive comments {and prayers} with regards to my last post. </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">It felt {feels} good to get that off my chest.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My hopes are high and my faith is strong. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm looking forward to what the future holds for us :)</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Hope everyone is enjoying a fabulous weekend.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Easter everyone!</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-15706426416315197802010-03-31T11:00:00.002-04:002010-03-31T11:11:41.767-04:00Heart to HeartI know I've been here and there these last few weeks...I suppose it's a reflection of what I've been feeling inside. I've never been one who was good at hiding how she felt. But somehow, this blog has made it easy. Feeling a little down but don't want anyone to know?<br />
Easy.<br />
Just <b>don't</b> post.<br />
Thing is, I can't hide it anymore.<br />
I <b>don't want</b> to.<br />
So, it's time we have a heart to heart....<br />
<br />
Have you...<br />
...ever wanted something more than anything?<br />
...wished for something so much, it made your heart hurt?<br />
...longed to have something so much that it was all you ever thought about?<br />
...and when you slept, your dreams would give you a taste of what life with<i> it</i>, might be like?<br />
<br />
<b>I</b> have.<br />
<br />
S and I have wanted children for quite some time now.<br />
And have experienced much heartache over the years.<br />
It has consumed my thoughts.<b> Our</b> thoughts.<br />
And when I dream at night, if I'm<b> lucky</b>, I get a glimpse of the little ones we've yet to meet. And lift them in my arms. And hold them <b>close</b>.<br />
S dreams about them too. And he <b>shares</b> his dreams with me.<br />
And sometimes we let ourselves imagine, just a for a little bit {or a lot}, what it'd be like to have <b>our family</b>.<br />
<br />
Maybe some of you don't want children and can't relate.<br />
Then again, perphaps some of you are <b>wishing</b> for that<i> someone</i> you haven't met yet...then you know, in a sense, how I feel.<br />
Maybe some of you already have everything and every<i>one</i> you could possibly want and can't relate.<br />
Then again, perhaps your life wasn't always like that. Maybe before the way things are right now, you might've <b>longed </b>for them to be this way, all those years ago.<br />
<br />
But even if you can't imagine how I feel, just <b>know</b> that it hurts.<br />
Know that things are <b>hard</b>.<br />
And some days are harder than others.<br />
<br />
But here's the thing.<br />
I feel like I've hurt<b> enough</b>.<br />
S doesn't want to see me shed another tear. <br />
He hopes that if I do, they'll be <b>happy</b> ones.<br />
I <b>hope</b> so too.<br />
In some ways we've put our lives on hold...<br />
...trying to make things happen.<br />
...or waiting for things to happen.<br />
In some ways we've put <b>everything</b> else aside.<br />
<br />
But we've learned that hurting or waiting or even doing won't always bring you closer to what you want.<br />
Even if you make it your priority.<br />
Some things can't be planned.<br />
You <b>can't will them</b> to happen.<br />
You <b>can't force</b> it.<br />
I firmly believe that <b>nothing worth having</b> is easily achieved.<br />
But the thing is...<br />
I also <b>know</b> that some things have to happen on their own.<br />
In their own time.<br />
<br />
So S and I have decided that the hurt stops <b>here</b>.<br />
The all consuming thoughts end <b>now</b>.<br />
Our lives...the happy worry-free ones we<i> used</i> to have...need to be the lives we live <b>now</b>.<br />
<br />
S and I will <b>continue</b> to do everything in our power to make our family happen. <br />
We have plans.<br />
Things are in the works.<br />
Maybe I'll share them with you another time.<br />
Life has a funny way of <b>always</b> working out.<br />
There is a child...<br />
...children out there, waiting for <b>us</b>.<br />
And I <b>know</b> it'll happen for us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7Nkc3StGAI/AAAAAAAACEI/iw9FUCP29zM/s1600/Embrace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S7Nkc3StGAI/AAAAAAAACEI/iw9FUCP29zM/s320/Embrace.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">{<i>our wedding</i>}</div><br />
But until they do, we'll have each other.<br />
We <b>already</b> are a family. <br />
We'll <b>enjoy</b> each other.<br />
We'll <b>count</b> our blessings.<br />
And be <b>grateful</b> for every single one of them.<br />
Heartache may come every now and again.<br />
But I <b>won't</b> let it stay long.<br />
Someone once said <i>life was like a fairytale</i>.<br />
If that's the case, then I look forward to my 'happily ever after'.<br />
I'll look forward, but it <b>won't</b> be all I focus on, because if all I focus on is the happy ending, I'll miss all the good stuff in between.<br />
Because the<b> journey getting there</b> can be just as good,<br />
and just as happy, as the ending.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thanks for listening.</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-52640938807202774182010-03-24T00:00:00.005-04:002010-03-24T00:00:05.040-04:00I'm That GirlS and I met about a year a half(?) before we started dating. We had a *chance* encounter at a High School dance where he saw me outside, from a distance, in the center of our school's courtyard. He turned to his friend and said, "that's the girl I'm going to<b> marry</b>." True story.<br />
<br />
Later that night in the gymnasium {this was a HS dance remember} I was doing my thing on the dance floor {girl can dance. <b>trust</b>} and suddenly felt someone dancing <i>right </i>behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see a tall guy <b>peering</b> down at me, I shot him <b>a look</b> that said "um, do I <i>know</i> you?"<br />
Which seemed to scare said guy off since I never saw him again that night.<br />
<br />
About a year later, I met S.<br />
About six months following that, we started dating.<br />
<br />
Then almost a year after dating, S found himself looking through one of my photo albums and spotted a photo of me wearing a striped dress and rocking a <b>shorter do</b>. He dropped the album, stared me straight in the eye and asked, "OMGosh, Is that YOU?"<br />
To which I replied, "Um yeah. You don't recognize your <b>own</b> girlfriend when you see her?"<br />
S: "That <b>dress</b>...YOU are <i>that</i> girl! You're that girl!!!"<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
He looked like he had seen a ghost.<br />
<br />
E: [insert blank stare]<br />
I had no idea what he was talking about, I thought I looked kinda cute in that photo. Why was he looking at me all ape nuts, eyes buggin' out, frantically pointing, finger flailing in the air and referring to me in <b>third</b> person as "that" girl???</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
He finally stopped chanting "you're that girl" to tell me about the night he *met* <i>that</i> girl. A night when he tried to strike up a convo with said girl. By dancing with her. Only to get "dissed" and shot some "cut eye". Once the night came back to my memory, being the <b>sensitive</b> girl that I am, I <strike>apologized</strike> rolled on the floor <b>laughing</b>. I had no idea he was <i>that</i> guy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I laughed when I heard he had referred to me as the girl he was going to marry. Little did I know how right he'd be.<i> </i></div><br />
<i>Sometimes</i>, I <strike>like</strike> love when he's right.</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela<br />
<br />
p.s. I know they say it's "Spring", but right now it's -3 degrees.<br />
And <i>minus</i> anything, is<b> not</b> Spring.<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S6mEohjHr0I/AAAAAAAACD4/64n-FJswAQc/s1600-h/Coat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S6mEohjHr0I/AAAAAAAACD4/64n-FJswAQc/s320/Coat.jpg" /></a> <br />
<i>Wool coat with leather insets</i> - Mackage</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-89445180267777126062010-03-22T00:00:00.001-04:002010-03-22T00:51:09.079-04:00I'm Really Good...Is it just me or was that a <i>reallllllly</i> long weekend? LOL sorry, I had no intention of taking a week off. But life kinda knocked me down for a bit <strike>then kicked me a lil while I was down</strike> {grumble, grumble} and it took a while to get back up and dust myself off. Missed your faces and missed seeing the going ons in your lives. Looking forward to catching up with y'all!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.marcopallotto.it/pics/hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.marcopallotto.it/pics/hope.jpg" width="231" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">[via <a href="http://www.marcopallotto.it/pics/hope.jpg">here</a>]</div><br />
So....are you tired of hearing about me yet?<br />
<i>Too bad</i>.<br />
HA.<br />
Cause one of my favourite people {ever} <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/" style="color: blue;">KS</a> tagged me a lil while ago to list <b><i>7 Things I'm a Master At</i></b> along with an award I mentioned a <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/2010/02/fabulous-friday_19.html" style="color: blue;">while</a> back. Seeing as I received it over a month ago, obviously I'm a master at procrastination {for certain things} but that's not all...<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at forgetting whether or not I've seen a movie</b>. How many times have S and I come home from Blockbuster{yes, we still go there} only to pop in a movie, watch the first 30 seconds then say, "OMGosh, we've seen this!" Then turn it off. And whine about how there's nothing to watch.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at not knowing what I want. At restos</b>. I am indecisive and often when I get my meal, I wish I had gone with the <i>other thing</i> I was contemplating. I'm quite certain that if a menu were to offer just <b>three</b> items, I'd need a good 5 mins to mull it over.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at reversing into spots</b>. No, I'm not kidding. I really am. But parallel parking...that's another story.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at guessing <strike>your weight</strike> what the TV will say next</b>. It's not unusual to <strike>be loved by anyone</strike> find me finishing sentences along with my fave TV shows. So <strike>annoying</strike> fun, right? S has said a number of times, "you should just write for them." Write for my fave TV shows. Oh, I'd love that. I'd do it for free.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at impersonating bad dancers/dance moves</b>. I just need to see someone *dance* <b>once</b> and I can replicate it no problem. Wouldn't you pay to see that?<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at giving presents</b>. <b>Late</b>. There's a family we love with 4 girls who S and I have seen grow up and adore, every year I buy them Christmas pressies in November or December. But the Holidays roll around and I get tied up. I usually get their pressies to them later...the following year...in March. This year I managed to get it to them in February. Imagine their excitement when Christmas came <b>early</b>!<br />
<br />
<b>I'm really good at organizing things</b>. In my closet, my shoes are stacked neatly on my shelves. My tops are sorted by sleeve length, then by colour, my sweaters are folded by type {cardi, pullover, etc.} then by colour, my dresses are hung by colour on the other end of my closet and my pants are draped over pant hangers by type {slacks, jeans, etc.} then by colour. OCD much? Yeah, I know.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I'm really good at other stuff too but I'm also good at keeping count, and I've already listed 7.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tell me what you've mastered.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-32173614291492365482010-03-12T00:00:00.027-05:002010-03-22T00:55:57.777-04:00Get in My BellyA little while ago, the fabulous <a href="http://jenniferfabulous.blogspot.com/" style="color: purple;">Jen</a> tagged me to list 10 Things that made me happy. As I started to think...all I could think of was food...HA. So, here are ten tasties {in alpha order} that I couldn't possibly do without.<br />
Side Note: If you know<span style="color: purple;"> </span><a href="http://jenniferfabulous.blogspot.com/" style="color: purple;">Jen</a> but you haven't stopped over there recently, please do, and give her some hugs. She could use them.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<b>Breakfast Saturdays</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8hjcg6HI/AAAAAAAACBw/_Sh26JDDDhk/s1600-h/Waffles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8hjcg6HI/AAAAAAAACBw/_Sh26JDDDhk/s200/Waffles.jpg" width="200" /></a><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Homemade waffles with a ras-straw-berry sauce. And some uber crispy bacon.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's the one day of the week I tend to <strike>feed S</strike> make a proper breakfast, which normally includes pancakes or waffles, bacon and eggs. Well, <i>proper</i> in<b> my</b> eyes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Grilled BBQ Short-Ribs {Korean}</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8kBEh-BI/AAAAAAAACB4/0SKg8SEAQ0Y/s1600-h/Short+Ribs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8kBEh-BI/AAAAAAAACB4/0SKg8SEAQ0Y/s200/Short+Ribs.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Delicious almost bite-sized pieces of grilled beef short-ribs over a bed of rice in a very hot stone pot. You can hear the BBQ sauce sizzle. Mmm. Mmm. Good.<b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Chocolate</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">For most of my life I ate at<b> least</b> one chocolate bar a day. That is, until I was about 25 or 26 when a co-worker was horrified to hear this. It suddenly dawned on me that <i>perhaps</i> one chocolate bar a day wasn't normal. Hmmmm...so strange. I figured I'd try to cut back and find a healthier alternative. Like an apple a day. Not so much. But now I can go a few days, maybe even a week, without a chocolate bar. Some of my faves: Twix, Aero, KitKat, Cadbury<b>... </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Gummi Bears</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now seeing as some of you know how much I love chocolate <i>and</i> gummi bears, some of you suggested I try some chocolate <b>covered</b> gummi bears. And so, I did. Here's the thing, I love chocolate. I love gummi bears. <b>Separately</b>. Together, I gotta say, I did not know what was in my mouth. I don't mean to hurt your feelings if you love them, maybe I had the wrong kind...but not quite the heavenly taste I had imagined...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Poutine</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8ouJW_lI/AAAAAAAACCI/Dt_D0at9xmI/s1600-h/Poutine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8ouJW_lI/AAAAAAAACCI/Dt_D0at9xmI/s320/Poutine.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">[via <a href="http://foodguymontreal.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/poutine.jpg">Google Images</a>]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, you are looking at cheese and gravy atop a bed of fries. Have you had it? Don't knock 'til you've tried it. It's very Canadian. And it's <b>soooo</b> good. Trust.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Prime Rib or Roast</b> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Medium-rare with<b> lots</b> of gravy, mashed potatoes, yorkshire pudding and some really good horseradish on the side. Yum.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Shellfish</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lobster, crab and shrimp. With lemon-butter sauce. <b>Yes </b>please.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Steak</b></div></div>Medium-rare please. I find that most people who don't like steak have only had it well-done. And trust me, well-done does <b>not</b> equate to<i> well done</i>. A quick bite of medium to medium-rare and I've seen some converts.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Sushi</b></div>At least once a week. And the<b> more </b>wasabi, the better. I love the feeling that super strong wasabi gives, it's like getting punched in the nose. Not that I know what that feels like. Nor do I want to.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Sweet Potato Fries</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8lKRXu_I/AAAAAAAACCA/rdbZXRXmnlo/s1600-h/SP+Fries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5J8lKRXu_I/AAAAAAAACCA/rdbZXRXmnlo/s320/SP+Fries.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> [via <a href="http://media.skinnychef.com/recipes/sweet-potato-fries.jpg">Google Images</a>]</span> </div><div style="text-align: center;">With garlic aioli. Or without. Mmmmmm.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let's eat!<br />
Happy weekend, munchkins....it's not a dig at your height, I just have the munchies now.</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela<br />
p.s. Are you a rockstar? Enter my girl J's contest <a href="http://popchampagne.blogspot.com/2010/02/champagne-contest-party-like-rockstar.html">here</a> until March 21st.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;">JUST ADDED</span>: Hey guys, this was a schedule post, but just got back from a memorial service for some very dear to me and S. I don't feel much like blogging right now so if I don't make it to your blog today or get to catch up this weekend. I'll see you Monday. xoxo</div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-53169938993700789142010-03-10T00:00:00.126-05:002010-03-11T09:40:07.971-05:00Now You Know...More<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SUVzOs-sI/AAAAAAAACDg/xva80AlICLc/s1600-h/Sweatshirt+Blazer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SUVzOs-sI/AAAAAAAACDg/xva80AlICLc/s640/Sweatshirt+Blazer.jpg" width="395" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Blazer</i>...it's a sweatshirt with a diagonal zipper - Winners </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Striped Tee</i> - H&M, Jeans - Just Cavalli,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Red Denim Platforms</i> - Nine West (2002), <i>EPI Pouchette</i> - Louis Vuitton</div><br />
So the other day I shared 3 {of 7} unusual things about me <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/03/now-you-know.html" style="color: blue;">here</a>....so here are other 4....<br />
<br />
4) S and I don't drink alcohol. I find that when some people learn this, and learn that it's a lifestyle choice we've made, they look at me as though I just hit them in the face with a frying pan. Then once they've recovered, the questions fire away. And no matter how much I explain, I can't seem to quench their thirst.<br />
<br />
Now I don't mind questions, in fact I'm happy to answer any question relating to the subject. But when I get the judging eyes, <b>not so much</b>. I never bat an eyelash or make a mental judgement when I know someone <i>does</i> drink, so it'd be nice if when I share that I <i>don't</i>, I didn't get the <i>whats' wrong with you</i> face. Or be looked at as though I suddenly sprouted a halo on my head and wings on my back. Though if I did, that'd be pretty cool, no?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i> </i><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SWlSAoyJI/AAAAAAAACDw/mmUgxCRu4Ow/s1600-h/Sweatshirt+Blazer+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SWlSAoyJI/AAAAAAAACDw/mmUgxCRu4Ow/s320/Sweatshirt+Blazer+3.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Bow Necklace</i> - gifted by Summer, seen <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/01/hoodini.html" style="color: blue;">here</a></div><br />
5) I am a clown. Well, not really. Cause clowns <b>freak</b> me the heck out. Plus I made the mistake of watching the movie <i>IT</i> when I was 12. Watched it at my friend's house. <b>Big</b> mistake. It's the last time I ever failed to ask, "what's it about?" Anywho, I'm the girl that's not afraid to get silly at a party. Dance in the middle of a circle as I impersonate <i>Elaine</i> from Seinfeld {please tell me you've <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNsDSBwr7c4" style="color: blue;">seen it</a>}. Put on my friend's prom dress and top it off with a bicycle helmet. And yes, since you've read 4) you know I do <b>all</b> this sober. Granted there is a time and place for everything so you won't catch me doing this when it's<b> </b>not<b> </b>called for. Yes, there <b>are</b> times when it <b>is</b> called for. I will make you smile if I know you need it, I will liven up a party if it's gone lame-o and I am <b>never</b> afraid to laugh at myself.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">6) That said, I am <b>quiet</b>. Or at least I can be. I attribute this to growing up, for the most part, as an only child. My brother came later in my teen years and my parents both worked full-time. I became independent and learned to love my alone time. I'm perfectly happy being left to my own devices. And perfectly capable of entertaining myself. Even in a crowd I can be quiet and sometimes <b>quiet is the way to go</b>. I get to observe and catch all the good stuff I sometimes miss out on when I'm being loud and <strike>annoying</strike> fun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SUYBAim8I/AAAAAAAACDo/TUzP3eSGfoM/s1600-h/Sweatshirt+Blazer+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5SUYBAim8I/AAAAAAAACDo/TUzP3eSGfoM/s320/Sweatshirt+Blazer+2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Zip it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>7) I may wear my heart on my sleeve, be warm and open. But I <b>don't </b>open up to just anyone. So if I share something with you, trust that I haven't shared it with a ton {or even four} other people. I open up to people I feel a connection with, to people I think can relate to me, to people I feel I can <i>trust.</i><br />
<br />
That said, some things, even those <b>dear to my heart</b>, I will share with the world {or with anyone who happens to read this}. Either way, I share pieces of me. And what you see is what you get.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So...now you know.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Your turn.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela<br />
p.s. Are you a rockstar? Enter my girl J's contest <a href="http://popchampagne.blogspot.com/2010/02/champagne-contest-party-like-rockstar.html">here</a> until March 21st. </div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-90210497524272659122010-03-08T00:00:00.123-05:002010-03-08T11:17:47.187-05:00Now You Know<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R3hWbIvkI/AAAAAAAACC4/BQJkkrpVnvc/s1600-h/Red+Dress+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R3hWbIvkI/AAAAAAAACC4/BQJkkrpVnvc/s400/Red+Dress+2.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Dress</i> - Kensie, <i>Skirt</i> (layered under dress) - H&M seen <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2009/10/chain-reaction.html" style="color: blue;">here</a>, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Blazer</i> - Morphine Generation, seen <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2009/11/tastes-like-gasoline.html" style="color: blue;">here</a>, I love the buttons on the sleeves spiking out, <i>Necklace</i> - Tiffany</div><br />
Recently my gorgeous lil gumdrop <a href="http://deathwearsdiamondjewellery.wordpress.com/" style="color: blue;">Sarah Hannah</a> from down under <a href="http://deathwearsdiamondjewellery.wordpress.com/2010/02/19/roadtrippin/" style="color: blue;">tagged me</a> to list 7 <b>unusual</b> facts about me. Easy peasy.<br />
<br />
Let's start from the beginning shall we...<br />
<br />
1) My mom nearly named me Allergy. As in "Achoo! Excuse me, it must be my allergies". She loved the way the "name" rolled off her tongue. Really? Cause I think I'd <b>choke</b> everytime I'd have to introduce myself. Seriously,<b> why</b> would you want to give your child a name that'll pretty much guarantee she'll have zero friends, suitors, confidence....<br />
<br />
But then again, had she given me that name, I suppose I would've made it work. I would've given myself the nickname "Allie" but knowing kids are cruel, they'd probably refuse and call me "Algae". I'd probably be the girl with a chip on her shoulder the size of a boulder. Or the girl with a perma-look plastered on my face that said <i>watcha lookin' at</i>? <b>Or</b> I'd have rocked the 'ish outta that name and been <b>the one</b> *Allergy* all the girls {and boys?} wouldn't want a cure for. Either way, pretty sure when I was 18 I would've legally changed my name. To...anything other than that.<br />
Thankfully my grandmother had the sense to ignore my mother, chocked it up to the Demerol or Epidural talking and talked her out of it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R29OwZDmI/AAAAAAAACCg/y9UR8kFhEGc/s1600-h/Red+Dress+Shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R29OwZDmI/AAAAAAAACCg/y9UR8kFhEGc/s320/Red+Dress+Shoes.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Patterned tights</i> - Hue, <i>Shoes</i> - Michael Kors</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>2) Speaking of names, my maiden name = married name. So what? I kept my name right? Yes....but that's not all. S's married name = my married name. <i>What you married your brother?</i> <b>NO!</b> <i>So you met a guy with the same last name...you're sure you're not related?</i> <b>Nope.</b><br />
<br />
When I got married and it came to changing my name, I knew I wanted to keep my name so I decided I should hyphenate. But with S, our relationship, our marriage is all about unity. About being "us" and "we". It was really important to <i>him</i> that <b>we</b> shared the same last name and felt that hyphenating my last name would still give us different surnames. I explained that keeping my name was really important to <i>me</i>. Suddenly a smile crept across his face, his eyes lit up as he told me he had an idea; <i>he</i> would change his name instead, and take mine. He caught me completely off guard, it's something I hadn't even considered! But that's exactly what he did. And everytime I write my name, I <b>love and appreciate</b> that he did that for me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R2_fDKeCI/AAAAAAAACCo/1k4z1N4lqlY/s1600-h/Red+Dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5R2_fDKeCI/AAAAAAAACCo/1k4z1N4lqlY/s320/Red+Dress.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">{I'm laughing because S is over in the corner...mocking me}</div><div style="text-align: center;">Love the arched hem at the back of this blazer</div><br />
3) I'm warm and rather affectionate. Maybe being warm and affectionate doesn't make for <b>unusual</b>. But in this day and age being "sweet" makes people think you're *sketchy*. Rest assured, it's real. There's a reason why I've been called "sweet" pretty much 98% of my life {the other 2% of the time, I am PMSing}. Sometimes people take it for granted and the little things I do become <b>expected</b>, rather than appreciated. And at times because of that, I'd rather be something, <i>anything</i> other than "sweet" but it's who I am. And I <b>can't</b> be someone other than me.<br />
<br />
When talking face to face with a friend, I may touch her arm or her hand or her knee. You might make me laugh and find me playfully pushing your shoulder. I may rest my head on your shoulder for a moment or two. If I call you "hon" or "love" or whatever *sugary* name I want, it's because I <b>geniunely</b> like you and mean it to be endearing. If I say "I adore you," it's<b> true</b>. If I say "I love you," I<b> mean</b> it. If I say "my heart breaks for you," it <b>does</b>. So if you take something I do or say as anything<i> less</i> than geniune, I have to put the sweet aside, be blunt and jump into my 2% mode and say, I'm sorry but that's <b>your</b> loss. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I know I've only listed 3 facts, I'll save the other 4 for later...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tell me something.</div><div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Special {super} late thank you to the lovely <a href="http://girlfromaroundtheway.blogspot.com/" style="color: blue;">Anna</a> for the <a href="http://girlfromaroundtheway.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-thankful-for-you.html" style="color: blue;">One Lovely Blog Award</a> and the uber creative <a href="http://tictactomato.blogspot.com/" style="color: #674ea7;">Sophia</a> for the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/" style="color: #674ea7;">Circle of Friends Award</a>. And more recently to the fabulous <a href="http://fabulouspastanotincluded.blogspot.com/" style="color: blue;">Nikosmommy</a> for the <a href="http://fabulouspastanotincluded.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-interrupt-our-regularly-scheduled.html" style="color: blue;">Beautiful Blogger Award</a> and <a href="http://fabulouspastanotincluded.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-interrupt-our-regularly-scheduled.html" style="color: blue;">The Best Blog Award</a>, the talented <a href="http://jenniferfabulous.blogspot.com/" style="color: #674ea7;">Jennifer</a> for the <a href="http://jenniferfabulous.blogspot.com/2010/02/id-like-to-thank-academy.html" style="color: #674ea7;">You're a Doll Award</a> and <a href="http://jenniferfabulous.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-award.html" style="color: #674ea7;">The Happy Award</a>, and the sweetie that is <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/" style="color: blue;">KS</a> for the <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/2010/02/fabulous-friday.html" style="color: blue;">Blogger BFF Award</a> and <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/2010/02/fabulous-friday_19.html" style="color: blue;">Master of Karate and Friendship Award</a>.</div>Thank you <b>so</b> much.<br />
p.s. I really enjoyed reading your comments from my <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/03/wisdom-comes-with-agelater-in-life.html" style="color: blue;">last post</a>, nice to know I'm not alone ;) </div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-11159031333190646512010-03-05T10:43:00.004-05:002010-03-05T10:48:53.853-05:00Wisdom Comes With Age...Later in Life<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">A little while ago I told you I got my <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/losing-my-wisdom-teeth.html">wisdom teeth</a> pretty in my early teens. And I know I said in jest that I liked to think they made me <i>that</i> much smarter but I gotta tell you, they did not. Sure I brought home 90s, aced pop-quizzes, made the honor role and even brought home the occasional award. But sometimes...I was just downright dumb. Granted, I don't think it had anything to do with the teeth...</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">One Christmas Eve after a fight with my mom the night before, I decided I'd <i>runaway forever</i>. Yet I didn't even bother </span><span style="font-size: small;">to pack a single thing. From the bus station I called my best friend</span><span style="font-size: small;">. I told her I had runaway and that I needed a place to stay. She told me to hold on while she asked <i>her parents</i> if I could spend the night. By the time I got there her parents had called mine. But both parents agreed that I could spend the night and celebrate Christmas Eve with my best friend. That night I watched my best friend and all her siblings open pressie after pressie. My best friend's mom felt sorry watching me just sit there empty handed so she went upstairs and came back with a present for me. Imagine my excitement as I opened my brand new(?)...towel. Best Christmas ever? Not so much. 15 and smart as <strike>a whip</strike> whipped cream.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5ElmrjmaPI/AAAAAAAACAo/0NGIwgJv_5g/s1600-h/Dumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S5ElmrjmaPI/AAAAAAAACAo/0NGIwgJv_5g/s320/Dumb.jpg" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">{via <a href="http://www.jacksonvillemag.com/blogs/media/blogs/Specktator/dumb_bunny.jpg">Google Images</a>}</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: small;">About a year later, I remember asking my mom to sign something from school. A permission form allowing me to participate in some fun activity, more importantly get me out of class for the day. My mom told me she was "too busy" at the moment but that I should remind her later. Being <strike>impatient</strike> <i>helpful</i> I asked if she'd like me to sign it for her. Confused by my offer, she asked me to clarify. I then proceeded to to tell her that I'd gotten really good at forging her signature. In response she looked at me with shock, awe, bewilderment and pride(?). So of course I had to add, "but forging dad's signature is even easier." 16 and sneaky. Just not smart enough to keep my mouth shut.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Any dumb moments you'd like to share?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Have a fabulous weekend!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">xo Ela</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">p.s. In case </span><span style="font-size: small;">you're wondering, I did not take my towel pressie home.</span></div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-32524369512263522672010-03-03T20:56:00.003-05:002010-03-03T23:23:52.426-05:00Yes, I'm Talking to YouTo the lady in the minivan who <strike>stopped to help</strike> yelled and honked like a mad woman when we had to pull our car over on ever busy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spadina_Avenue"><span style="color: #660000;">Spadina</span></a>. After it got rearended by a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:TTC_ALRV_and_CLRV_streetcars_4239_and_4028.jpg" style="color: #660000;">streetcar</a>. I suppose you would've preferred us to stay in the middle of the road so <i>you</i> wouldn't have had to change lanes. <i>What</i> is the matter with you?<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></div>To the streetcar driver, you seemed very kind. And I don't want this accident to cost you your job. But please do not say we "suddenly hit the brakes" and decided to turn. We had our signal on the whole time. And came to a gentle stop as we generally do when we approach stoplights. Hopefully this was a first for you and the <a href="http://www3.ttc.ca/" style="color: #660000;">TTC</a> will let this one slide.<br />
<div style="color: #660000; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div>To my <a href="http://www.kristenlawlor.blogspot.com/" style="color: blue;">Kr</a><a href="http://bisforbrown.blogspot.com/" style="color: magenta;">ummer</a> ladies, thank you for keeping me calm. Heart you to the moon and back.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b> </div><div style="text-align: left;">To S, my sweet S, I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you said "it's been a bad week" even before this accident happened. But thank you for looking forward to the good that comes after a string of bad events. I love you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
And love, thank you for sharing Life Lesson # 289 with me: When you shake a bottle, <b>without</b> its cap on, it <i>will</i> make a mess.</div>Yes darling, that is what tends to happen. I'm sorry you got it in on your bag, sweater, papers. And face. Sweetheart, you need to<i> look </i>at what you are doing. Sometimes.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div>To the people at UPS, how on earth did you scrap the first line of the receiving address? Now you are left wandering the streets of Florida. Please note, all lines of the address are equally important. And should not be ignored.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div>To the people who decided one must drink <b>3 glasses of water</b> to have the perfect amount so you can conduct your ultrasound, clearly your bladder is the size of Alaska. Mine however, is not.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></b>To K, thank you for letting me go "just a lil bit" when you saw my <b>eyes watering</b>. I've learned that when your bladder is beyond full, it's gotta come out somehow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;">To my dear Ela, yes you. When will you learn that: A full bladder + A belted outfit = A bad. Freaking. Idea.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I don't care that you got dressed and left the house before 6am. You need to think things through. More.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~</span></b></div>To my lovely readers, my bloggie friends, I'm sorry I haven't been around your digs lately. This week has been a tough one for me to manage. I have a sweet pea I'm worried about, a family friend in the hospital, a BFF who won't return my calls (is she OK? No idea), eventful days that will not allow me much computer time, and my body has finally caved and is trying majorly to catch up on some sleep. I'll be around soon. I promise.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">xo Ela</div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-72373339085514412352010-03-01T15:00:00.005-05:002010-03-01T17:00:25.658-05:00Addicted to Molasses<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No, it's not the name of a cool indy song, it is however, the truth. These darn Molasses Spice cookies have me climbing the walls when I can't have one. I'm obsessed with having some in the cookie tin at ALL times and the minute I see that <strike>we're</strike> I'm running low, I immediately bake more. Like drop what I'm doing and bake more. As though something terrible should happen if one lone cookie stays in the tin, all alone without any cookie friends to keep his cookie goodness company. Have I mentioned, I'm obsessed?</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4wbXULV2TI/AAAAAAAACAg/gfvKREJWEvs/s1600-h/Cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4wbXULV2TI/AAAAAAAACAg/gfvKREJWEvs/s320/Cookies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who knew molasses was so darn addictive? </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Before these cookies I thought <b>molasses = ick</b>. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Molasses is dark, sticky and smells like bark. Or something. But I picked up the carton from the store and it was sealed and everything so I know it hasn't been laced with anything. Right? Right??? Because if it were, it would explain the *mild* obsession I am having with these cookies. <b>I'm cooky for cookies</b>. And suddenly sound like a cereal commercial. Oy. I need to be stopped. Seriously. But just in case it's not such a bad thing, I thought I'd share the <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/chewy-molasses-spice-cookies">recipe</a> with you. Then you can obsess right along with me.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ingredients (</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 36)</span></b></div><div class="ms-col2-recipe-ingredients" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><ul><li><span style="font-size: x-small;">*2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1 teaspoon ground cinnamon</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1/2 teaspoon salt</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1 1/2 cups sugar</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">**3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1 large egg</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;">1/4 cup molasses </span></li>
</ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">* I add an extra 1/2 C to make them fluffy.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">** I use salted.</span></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Directions</span></b> <br />
<ol style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><li> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. In a shallow bowl, place 1/2 cup sugar; set aside.</span> </li>
<li> <span style="font-size: x-small;">With an electric mixer, beat butter and remaining cup of sugar until combined. Beat in egg and then molasses until combined. Reduce speed to low; gradually mix in dry ingredients, just until a dough forms.</span> </li>
<li> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Pinch off and roll dough into balls, each equal to 1 tablespoon. Roll balls in reserved sugar to coat.</span> </li>
<li> <span style="font-size: x-small;">Arrange balls on baking sheets, about 3 inches apart. Bake, one sheet at a time, until edges of cookies are just firm, 10 to 15 minutes (cookies can be baked two sheets at a time, but they will not crackle uniformly). Cool 1 minute on baking sheets; transfer to racks to cool completely. Store in an airtight container up to 4 days.</span> </li>
</ol><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A few other things I'm addicted to these days:</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> - <i>Hershey's Eggies</i> (<a href="http://www.hersheys.com/celebrate/easter/products/detail.asp?id=320&t=product">"Hershey's Eggs"</a> in the US) They're egg-tastic! I could eat my weight equivalent. Even better than Cadbury Mini Eggs.</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Trust.<br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">- <i>Hawkins Cheezies</i> Crunchy orange sticks have never tasted so good. I'm pretty sure I'm retaining water like a wishing well but I really don't care.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">- <i>Pickles</i> The whole sour dill kind in the big jars in the refrigerated section, NOT the ones in the condiment aisle.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
Are you at all concerned about what I'm eating? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Don't be. I promise I eat "real food" in between. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Anything you're addicted to these days?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Oh and thanks to all who entered the Orient Watch Giveaway. I nearly went<i> bananas</i> when I found out the winning comment (via random.org) was lucky no. 8...congratulations, <a href="http://littlemayra.blogspot.com/">Mayra</a>!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">xo Ela</span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-37709326045913119552010-02-26T00:00:00.012-05:002010-02-28T06:56:33.949-05:00"Be Ready in Ten Minutes"<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Those were the words out of S's mouth when he called the other day letting me know he was on his way home and that he wanted to head right out so we could grab a quick bite to eat. The eating part I like. The getting ready part...I like hearing those words almost as much as I enjoy being asked, "is<i> </i><i>that</i> what you're wearing?" Um, seeing that it's on me and I'm about to walk out the door, yes, I think it'd be safe to assume </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>that</i> is what I'm wearing. Thankfully I can count on less than two fingers the number of times S has posed that question.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Although, being asked to be ready in 10 happens more often than I'd like. Well, at least S has come to know: you can't always get what you ask for. Asking me to be ready in ten minutes is like asking me to sneeze with my eyes open. Pretty much impossible. At least for me. Especially when I get the call as I'm mid-swing on the elliptical, </span><strike style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">sweating up a storm</strike><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> glistening just a tad and smelling like someone...who could use a shower. Never mind that having a shower, blow drying my hair so I it doesn't freeze when I step out the door, getting dressed, running down the stairs, finding my purse, and my keys, grabbing a coat, playing hide and go seek with my boots, and gloves, and running back upstairs to get my b-berry takes 20 minutes. At least. Am I alone here? Or is getting ready in 10 minutes actually the norm?</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4dhUbOK-wI/AAAAAAAACAI/YFrPz9U9cfE/s1600-h/Nude+Swtr+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4dhUbOK-wI/AAAAAAAACAI/YFrPz9U9cfE/s400/Nude+Swtr+3.jpg" width="272" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <i>Sweater</i> - Dex, <i>Boots</i> - Zara, <i>Gloves</i> - Ugg<br />
</span></div></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Leather Bomber and Jeans</i> - 7 for all Mankind</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">When I bought this sweater a few years back, it had little <strike>boils</strike> balls of yarn sewn all over it. I'm sure the lovely folks at Dex thought it added "whimsy". I thought it made my sweater look like it had warts. I detached the little nubs soon as I got home. Had I left them perhaps you'd be asking "is <i>that</i> what you're wearing?"</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4clo5EAJAI/AAAAAAAAB_4/v7PWoXF-Ysg/s1600-h/Nude+Swtr+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4clo5EAJAI/AAAAAAAAB_4/v7PWoXF-Ysg/s400/Nude+Swtr+2.jpg" width="260" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bag</i> - Thrifted</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">So in love with this bag I picked up last year, </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">I've no idea why anyone would want to get rid of it. The leather is buttery soft and it's the perfect crossover length. Plus it cost me</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> less than my usual Starbucks order {a lemon poppyseed loaf and a tall hot chocolate}.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Is it just me or is this post awful random and all over the place? A little bit like my thoughts before bed. Which reminds me, thank you so much for all your tips on my <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-need-sleep.html">last post</a>. Just in case you didn't know...you guys are AWESOME!</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Have a great weekend lovelies!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">xo Ela</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">p.s. <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/time-flies-when-youre-having.html" style="color: blue;">Giveaway's</a> open till Feb 28th, do <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/time-flies-when-youre-having.html" style="color: blue;">enter</a> if you haven't already!</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-26599377307622721162010-02-24T00:00:00.023-05:002010-02-24T23:07:05.499-05:00I Need Sleep<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No really, I do. I've no problem taking a nap on our couch on any given Sunday or catching some zzzzs in the middle of S telling me a <i>very interesting</i> story as we drive in the car or sleeping through at least a third of any movie that is longer than 105 minutes. But lately, when it comes to </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">getting sleep at night...in a bed...forget it.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Rw2Y_S7xI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/Yh3jbSNPSHo/s1600-h/Purple+Bib+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Rw2Y_S7xI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/Yh3jbSNPSHo/s640/Purple+Bib+3.jpg" width="417" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Dress</i> - Winners, <i>Floral Necklace and Belt</i> - F21</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Rw9ZseeEI/AAAAAAAAB_w/wNiarsZklQw/s1600-h/Purple+Tights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Rw9ZseeEI/AAAAAAAAB_w/wNiarsZklQw/s320/Purple+Tights.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i> Logo Tights</i> - Chanel, <i>Mary Janes</i> - Via Spiga (via 90s)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'd love some good old uninterrupted sleep, to not have to get up in the middle of the night because I suddenly remember we need to buy potatoes, or because my bladder thinks it's 6am when really it's only 2am, or because the big lug next to me decides to see how perfectly his elbow fits in my eye socket<a href="http://tiffany-ontheverge.blogspot.com/2010/02/between-sheets.html" style="color: blue;">{I feel you Tiffany}</a>.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And please don't say "at least you don't have a crying baby keeping you up." Cause <strike>then I'd have to slap you</strike> that would be music to my ears. Yes, I'd still want sleep but at least getting up in the middle of the night would be<i> purposeful</i>. This however, has no purpose. Other than to give me puffy sullen eyes and a cranky disposition.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Actually, I'm getting ahead of myself. Yes staying asleep is hard but <b>falling</b> asleep is the hardest part. What's keeping me up, you ask? Nothing. I'd love to blame it on S and his snoring but 97% of the time I can tune it out. 2% of the time it's actually <i>somewhat</i> soothing. Like listening to static. And 1% of the time, I want to stick a pillow over his face but instead I stick one over mine.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Truth is, mostly, I keep myself up. My mind just won't stop. Thinking. I'm not trying to memorize the first 3,000 <a href="http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_many_digits_of_pi_have_been_discovered">digits</a> of pi. Nor am I trying to solve world peace. I'm just stuck on thinking about things that really shouldn't be keeping me up at night. Like what my ex-boss' daughter's name is. Or why in the world people like egg salad. Or how S can think Richard Gere and Harrison Ford are the same people. WTHeck. Not even close, right? Which leads to me wonder how much Calista Flockhart weighs. Which makes me think, "for sure I weigh more". Which makes me wonder what my BMI is. Then for a split second I forget what BMI stands for. Then I make up what it stands for. Then make myself giggle. Quietly, to not wake the hubs. Which makes me look at him and get jealous of how well he's sleeping. And how <strike>loud</strike> peaceful he is. Which makes me want to poke him and ask "are you awake?" Then I wonder if there's anyone I can call who would be awake. Then I realize it's 2:46am and everyone else is sleeping. Then I start to freak out because I imagine how hard it'll be get me out of bed in just a few hours. Sigh.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Any tips? And no, I won't be taking any pills. Drug-free suggestions only please.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">xo Ela</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">p.s. If you haven't already, do enter my <b><a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/time-flies-when-youre-having.html" style="color: blue;">Orient Watch Giveaway</a></b>!!!</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-85287019677392584242010-02-22T00:00:00.003-05:002010-02-22T11:46:12.969-05:00Name Calling<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S and I tease each other a lot. It's what we do with people we love. We also have a thing for calling each other names. No, not those names. We tend to make up words actually. So the other day in the car, while he was driving a *tad* over the speed limit, I called him a "squindrel". Kinda like half scoundrel, half squirrel.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S: What'd you call me?<b> </b></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>E:</b> A squin-drel. Keep up.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S: What the heck is that?<b> </b></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>E:</b> Does it matter?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Hs3i1YALI/AAAAAAAAB_I/aJ5T0heifpA/s1600-h/Jan+30+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S4Hs3i1YALI/AAAAAAAAB_I/aJ5T0heifpA/s400/Jan+30+10.jpg" width="271" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Leopard tank and Shrug</i> - Winners, <i>Jeans</i> - Just Cavalli, <i>OTKs</i> - Guess</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Suddenly I pictured S and I as little kids. Me calling him names with him looking at me with a blank stare. Me having to explain myself, him being a gnat. Him hogging everything, me screaming "MINE!" Suddenly it dawned on me...</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>E:</b> I'm glad we met later in life.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S: What? Why?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>E:</b> Mmm...I don't think we would've liked each other as kids.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S: </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">[Laughs] </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Of course not...we don't like each other <b><i>now</i></b>.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>E:</b> [Laughs].....squindrel.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And that folks, is how we stay happily married.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hope you had a fabulous weekend! </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">xo Ela</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-41072314256301899332010-02-19T00:00:00.053-05:002010-02-19T00:05:13.142-05:00Losing My Wisdom {Teeth}<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I got my wisdom teeth at a fairly young age; in my early teens. But I didn't decide to have them removed till my early 20s. Mostly because it didn't seem necessary to get them removed. And partly because I liked to think they made me <i>that</i> much smarter.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S33fk4Xf9-I/AAAAAAAAB_A/nKpT63rGNrA/s1600-h/Glasses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S33fk4Xf9-I/AAAAAAAAB_A/nKpT63rGNrA/s200/Glasses.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">However, my dentist thought otherwise. He referred me to an oral surgeon to </span><strike style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">make up for the money he owed over a lost bet</strike> get them looked after. During our consultation "Surgy" informed me I would need to have all four removed. And he <strike>and I</strike> decided that removing all four <i>at once</i>, would be best. Yes, I consented to this, but wtheck did I know?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We set the appointment for the following week and Surgy had me sign a number of papers, including consent/release forms for a general anaesthetic. Because why on earth would I want to be awake for this, right? Right. However, after informing S that he'd need to take the day off <strike>to comfort me</strike> on the day of my oral surgery and letting him know I'd be in no condition to drive while the anaesthesia wore off, he pleaded that I not "go under". You see <strike>he'd watched Sleeping Beauty one too many times</strike> he feared that I would not wake up. After <strike>spooking the heck out of me</strike> hearing his concerns, I thought it best to give in.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">When the morning of the surgery came, I informed Surgy that I would not be having a general anaesthetic but that I'd have a local instead. He explained that with a local anaesthetic, though I wouldn't feel a thing, I would be awake for the entire procedure. Yes, Surgy. I<i> know</i> what a local anaesthetic does. After trying to convey <strike>that me going local vs. general would be less lucrative for him</strike> his concern for my well-being, he reluctantly agreed.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So, his assistant proceed to stick a large needle in my gums to administer the anaesthetic. But I've learned that with gums like mine, I need at least three doses. So they do it again. And again. Once the effects kicked in, Surgy put his game face on and came at me with his pliers. Out comes one. One down, three to go. Out comes the second. Then the third. Plucking them out with ease, like a school girl plucking out petals from a daisy "he loves me, he loves me not, he loves..."</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And then things headed in a different direction.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">While gently trying to remove the fourth, it seems Surgy had lost his cool. The fourth did not want to come out with ease. Perhaps, it too was convinced it's what made me that much smarter, and wanted to stay behind to give me that extra edge. Whatever it was, it was not going anywhere. Surgy yanked and pulled. And grunted. Did he forget that though I couldn't feel a thing, I could still <i>see and hear</i> him? To gain some agility Surgy propped his foot on the chair. Yes, the one I was laying in. And firmly planted his free hand down. On my face. And pressed. He was now <strike>gently holding</strike> pushing my face down into the chair, causing the left side of my face to get better acquainted with the headrest. Now you can imagine the out of body experience I was having. Though I couldn't feel a thing, I knew I'd pay for this later. After much crunching, a few more grunts, breaking a sweat and nearly busting a gut, Surgy finally got it out.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I practically jumped out of that chair and hurried to the waiting room to see S. Can you say "get me outta here". Well, technically I couldn't say much but I believe my face said it all. S drove me home in a hurry so I could get some rest. Almost immediately after we got home, a huge green blob started to spread across my face. I was half-Hulk. Or half-Shrek. Whatever you prefer. S suggested I get some "beauty sleep". If by beauty sleep he meant "wake up looking like a puffer fish" then I did just that. By the time I woke up, the swelling was in full force. I had the bone structure of a <b><a href="http://www.virginmedia.com/images/cabbage-patch-381x381.jpg" style="color: black;">Cabbage Patch Doll</a></b>.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And just when I thought it couldn't get better...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Later that evening, S was on the phone with my mom letting her know how <i>well</i> the surgery had gone while I rested my head on a pillow on his lap, watching TV to try and forget the pain. Just when it seemed to be working, my mom must've said something to make S forget himself. Suddenly he had loosened his grip on the remote control he had in hand, only to have it <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">plummet right into my face.</span> D<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">o you remember how big and heavy remote controls were about 10 years ago?</span> I DO.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Well, at least I could be <i>certain</i> the anaesthesia had worn off. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I could hear my mom on the other end frantically asking, "What happened??? Is she OK??? What happened???" After reassuring my mom he was <i>not</i> trying to kill me, S quickly got off the phone. Tears were streaming down my face as he tried to console me. He knew I was too weak to hurt him so he just stroked my hair till I stopped. As if my face wasn't big or green enough. You can bet I made S pay for that. For <strike>a few days</strike> weeks.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So long ago but I remember it like yesterday. Gee, I wonder why.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">xo Ela<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">P.S. Stop in and visit Baby Lawlor to hear the <a href="http://kslittlelaw.blogspot.com/2010/02/baby-ls-heartbeat.html"><span style="color: #a64d79;">most beautiful sound ever</span></a>. AMAZING.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">[Image via <a href="http://blog.urbanoutfitters.com/files/Disguises.jpg">Urban Outfitters</a>]</span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-89581876944919671152010-02-17T00:00:00.014-05:002010-02-17T09:28:30.786-05:00iPhon't Think So<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For the last year or so, S has been trying to convince me to get an iPhone. Scratch that. He's been itching to buy me one. But you see, I refuse. I don't want it. The thought of not having a tactile keyboard does not work for me. Never mind that the darn thing doesn't even register my finger half the time. I *press* things and I tell you, NOTHING. HAPPENS. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S says it's cause I'm "not human". Sometimes he softens the blow and blames it on my "dead skin". Frankly, I'm not quite sure which of his theories paint me in a better light, so I just blame the phone.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">How do I know I detest this phone when I haven't even given it a chance, you ask.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I borrowed it for the day a few months back. But only because I had left my cell phone at home. And the thought of not being able to communicate with <strike>people</strike> people that I like for a full 8-12 hours was not an option. So he set up my email on his phone to keep me connected. Between me not knowing how hit the right keys and iPhone's auto complete, I was hopeless...</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">instead of "DimSum" I got "dumdum" NOT okay.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">instead of "drolly" I got "frilly"..."dolly" I could understand. But <b>fri</b>lly? Um ok.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Luckily, I double checked before hitting send but making the corrections...brutal. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Imagine how <strike>intelligent</strike> caveman like I must've looked <strike>typing</strike> hacking away with one finger. Brows furrowed, lips contorted mouthing the words as I went along and practically breaking a sweat trying to put together a 5 liner. Hard to feel pleased with yourself when 5 sentences takes 14 mintues to type. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">I mean come on, it's not like I've got flippers. I've been told my fingers are slender and dainty. I don't see why they're not compatible with the iPhone when S' grubby little paws just dance away on that thing.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Did I mention that when I answered the phone I hung up on my best friend's husband?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Once because I pressed the wrong *button*.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And a second time while he was on the line and my cheek pressed against the phone.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Did I mention he was calling to let me know why my BFF was in the ER?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Can you say panic and frustration. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Thankfully, I figured out how to call him back and everything turned out fine with my girl.<i> Side Note: I headed over to the hospital to keep her company while she sat waiting in the ER.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">But I can't have a cell phone disconnect a call simply because the *buttons* can't be pressed. Or because my chipmunk cheeks press <strike>slightly</strike> against its surface. So it won't take my fingers but it'll take my cheeks??? Am I the only one that thinks that is stoooo-pad?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm married to man who LOVES gadgets. But seriously, I'm not quick to embrace them. I don't need shiny and new <strike>all the time</strike> as long as I've got something that works. So me say "yes" to an iPhone? <i>iPhon't think so</i>. I didn't even want a Blackberry when he got me one. Of course I love it now but that's besides the point.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3tkH9U17cI/AAAAAAAAB-o/Wst7QibzZ0o/s1600-h/FurCoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3tkH9U17cI/AAAAAAAAB-o/Wst7QibzZ0o/s640/FurCoat.jpg" width="392" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>fell in love with the leather insets of this thrifted vintage fur</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3v8XpgFHYI/AAAAAAAAB-4/fVhvyTgDjRg/s1600-h/FurCoat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3v8XpgFHYI/AAAAAAAAB-4/fVhvyTgDjRg/s640/FurCoat2.jpg" width="398" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">love the fun lining of this coat</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Belt</i> - Chinese Laundry, <i>Dress</i> - Winners, </span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Boots</i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> - </span><a href="https://www.demandshoes.com/b2c/ecom/ecomEnduser/default/defaultNF.aspx" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Diba/Bronx</a></span> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Have I mentioned I don't even own an iPod?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gasp.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Though I do <i>know</i> how to use one. I just don't need it.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">At this rate, perhaps S isn't so far off when he says I'll be like one of those old people who refuse to learn how to use a computer. But seriously, just like they do, I'm sure I'll get by.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">xo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ela</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">p.s. Don't forget to entery my <b><a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/02/time-flies-when-youre-having.html" style="color: blue;">Orient Watch Giveaway</a></b>!!! GET TO IT!!! </span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-32194668733285672452010-02-15T00:00:00.011-05:002010-03-01T14:59:08.135-05:00Time Flies...Automatic Watch Giveaway (CLOSED)<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As you know, I've recently published my 100th post. I started this blog just 7 months ago, in a way it seems like more time has passed because I've met some amazing people {yes you} that I feel like I've known for much longer. Yet in some ways, time has just flown by. But I suppose it's only because time flies when you're having fun!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I've loved reading each and every comment you've left me and I've loved visiting your blogs, seeing what y'all are up to and sharing in the going ons of your lives; the good, bad and notsomuch. Celebrating blogiversaries, milestones and birthdays...speaking of which, today Feb 15th is <a href="http://littlemayra.blogspot.com/">Mayra's</a> special day, Happy Happy Birthday, love!!!</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Enjoy your day and show us how it's done banana style!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3YtBTDxP3I/AAAAAAAAB-g/SZ24GMWaSsA/s1600-h/Giveaway+Watch+Orient+Blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3YtBTDxP3I/AAAAAAAAB-g/SZ24GMWaSsA/s320/Giveaway+Watch+Orient+Blue.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">So, in celebration of the fabulous time I've had with you <b>all</b>, I've teamed up with the lovely folks at <a href="http://orientwatchusa.com/" style="color: blue;">Orient Watches Japan</a> and am looking to give some fabulous arm candy to one lucky reader! I love the versatility men's watches offer because they look just as good {if not better :)} on a woman's wrist as they do on a man's. Trust me on this. So,</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> I thought the Orient BEM5L003D Men's watch would be perfect. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">It's fully automatic, has a stainless steel case, is water resistant up to 50m and has day-date functionality. Plus, it'll look fabulous on you. </span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">YES YOU!!!</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>To Enter:</b> Be or become a follower of my blog and <b>tell me</b> about a time you'll never forget.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For a <b>2nd Entry</b>: Post this giveaway on your blog. Leave a comment telling me you've done so.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For a <b>3rd Entry</b>: Tweet about this giveaway and leave me a comment with the link.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Easy Peasy!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Open to US residents only.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Entries will be accepted until <b>Feb 28 at 11:59pm EST</b>.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Winner will be selected randomly and will be announced on <b>Monday, March 1st</b>.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">And if you can't wait to get your hands on one, check out <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://orientwatchusa.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Orient Watches Japan</span></a></span> and see what else you'd love to don on your wrist. One of my personal favourites is the <a href="http://www.orientwatchusa.com/watch.php?id=70"><span style="color: blue;">Racing </span></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2829928745404773984&postID=3219466873328567245" style="color: blue;">CFT0004B</a> Model...the faces come in so many different colours, it's hard to choose which one I love most.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Good luck, everyone! And thank you for making these past few months <i>so</i> much fun.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">xo Ela</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">p.s. To my International and Canadian readers, I promise I haven't forgotten about you. Something's in the works :)</span></span></span></div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-34904264545392247362010-02-12T00:00:00.030-05:002010-02-12T19:35:03.717-05:00Bulls...eye<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I can't pinpoint exactly what it is that I love about Target. Maybe cause I can spend an hour there and feel like only 20 minutes have passed. Maybe it's because I can take my time picking out mascara, lotion and gummy bears while S roams the aisles for who knows what. Maybe it's because I only step foot in one every 6-9 months ~ whenever we're Stateside. Whatever it is, I love it. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Imagine my excitement when I read that Target had plans of opening a few stores in Canada!</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Then I read the rest of the <a href="http://www.thestar.com/business/article/754191--cheap-chic-retailer-target-coming-to-canada">article</a>. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And found out it'll take a good three years. At least.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">WTHeck??? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Are you kidding me?</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">On average, it takes three years <a href="http://www.metro.co.uk/lifestyle/99603-average-man-takes-3-years-to-propose">for a man to propose</a>. In three years I could have 4 babies. In a row. If I had them back to back {anyone else think this would be a good idea?}. More if I gave birth to multiples. One with another on the way if I were an elephant. It only takes three <i>days</i> to travel to the <b>moon</b>. Need I remind you that Canada is<i> attached to, </i>not orbitting the US? </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Seriously, Target, three years???</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://scienceblogs.com/ethicsandscience/upload/2006/09/sad_puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://scienceblogs.com/ethicsandscience/upload/2006/09/sad_puppy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">[via <a href="http://scienceblogs.com/ethicsandscience/upload/2006/09/sad_puppy.jpg">here</a>]</i></span></div><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Canada's always getting the bum rap.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fine, our bacon's not as good. I mean, <a href="http://www.tmffoods.com/consumer/peameal-bacon-of-canada.asp">peameal bacon</a>...who wants bacon with barely any fat? It's like eating <i>baked</i> fries. Which is only satisfying if you love oxymorons. Or baked fries. But Canada has really good maple syrup. And a better view of the Niagara Falls. Trust. Sure it's cold, but so is Alaska. And they have 3 Target stores. I looked it up.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Whatever. I'll see you in three years, Target. </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">With my 4 babies.</span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">xo E</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">la</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">p.s. Just so we're clear, I've no intentions of being with child for 3 <b>straight</b> years. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You <b>did</b> know I was kidding, right?</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Happy VDay long weekend loves!</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">If you're Canadian, happy "Family Day" weekend! </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yeah...it's basically something the Canadian government made up to match US Presidents Day holiday Monday.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-52275224866431491072010-02-10T00:00:00.039-05:002010-02-10T00:16:42.950-05:00Petunia<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I met my friend T interning at the ad agency. I tend to give all my friends nicknames so shortly after, T became "Petunia".</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3INbIKeuzI/AAAAAAAAB-A/kGCVlTcgHOo/s1600-h/Purple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="511" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3INbIKeuzI/AAAAAAAAB-A/kGCVlTcgHOo/s640/Purple.jpg" width="332" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <i>Sweater</i> - Kensie Girl, <i>Blue Belt</i> {worn backwards} - Vintage</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Cami and Skirt</i> - H&M, <i>Booties</i> - Fendi {via eBay}</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now let me explain that before we were friends...we weren't. Petunia did <b>not </b>like me. How do I know this? A co-worker once invited both of us to lunch. Without hesitation I agreed to come along. It was my first week and I was happy to be welcomed. Or so I thought.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When we finished lunch Petunia reapplied her lipgloss at the table. Side Note: I was and still am obsessed with lipgloss. I thought the colour was really pretty but I had never used that brand before so I decided to ask P a few questions...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Ela:</b> How do you like that lipgloss?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">P: [Rolls eyes] It's lipgloss. What do you mean?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Ela:</b> I dunno...is it sticky?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">P: Sticky? [Stink face] </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Ela:</b> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You know how some lipglosses are sticky like when your hair blows then it gets stuck to your lips... </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">P: No. I don't know what you're talking about. If you want to know so much, why don't you just buy some.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>Ela:</b> <strike>PMS much?</strike> Um...ok...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She was snarky most of the time. But it didn't stop me from being nice to her. It was week one, she and I would be working on pretty much the same ad campaigns and I had about 15 weeks to go - the last thing I wanted was to start some office conflict {ala the 90s version to Erin and Olivia on The City}. Plus, I had seen her be nice to <i>other</i> people, so I knew she <strike>wasn't a complete cow</strike> had it in her. <strike>After the PMS train left the station</strike> about a week or two later <strike>I wore her down</strike> she and I became inseperable. We bonded over shoe shopping, questioned whether it was legal to get paid so little, discussed the likeness between 8yr old Dewey from Malcolm in the Middle and our manager's 28yr old boyfriend{like twins I tell you} and counted how many Joe Louis Cakes our diabetic manager would eat that day. Petunia has a very nasal voice, I on the other hand sometimes speak at a pitch only dogs can hear. Yet somehow, we had started to rub off on each other. Picture Minnie Mouse congested. And on painkillers. That was us.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2-E02RbLqI/AAAAAAAAB94/AEgBEXRidGg/s1600-h/Be+Nice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2-E02RbLqI/AAAAAAAAB94/AEgBEXRidGg/s320/Be+Nice.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">[via weheartit]</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">P later fessed up and gave</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> me the reason behind all the 'tude. She told me I was "just so nice" that she figured I had to be up to something. When she realized I didn't <strike>want her man or her job</strike> have a hidden agenda, she finally saw that I was being sincere. Funny thing is, <i>she's</i> actually one of the nicest people I'll ever know{when she's not being paro}. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's been 8 years and P and I are still dear friends. Occasionally we relive our lipgloss convo - except she'll say my lines and I say hers then we <strike>pull each other's hair out</strike> die laughing. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">F</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">unny how some of my best friends are girls, who in the beginning, <b>I</b> didn't like <b>or</b> didn't like me. Although it's never quite worked out with girls when the feeling was mutual. Go figure.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> little while ago, P and her husband B welcomed their first baby girl to their family. Congratulations, P and B!!! Lil Petunia is just darling. No need to wait and see, I know I love her already.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3INd5S9NHI/AAAAAAAAB-I/yzEeawY_-2c/s1600-h/Purple2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="514" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S3INd5S9NHI/AAAAAAAAB-I/yzEeawY_-2c/s640/Purple2.jpg" width="333" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <i>because I can, and it's fun</i> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ever have a friend who didn't quite start off that way? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">xo Ela</span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-11458586736879967182010-02-08T00:00:00.002-05:002010-02-08T00:00:06.549-05:00Apparently I Like Being Told What to Do<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Okay fine, that's a big fat lie. I don't like it and probably never will. But I AM loving the recipe calendar I picked up late last year. A new recipe each and every day. And though I haven't gone all <b>Stepford</b> on the hubs, I am loving trying 2 or 3 different recipes each week so we're not stuck having heck knows what for dinner night after night.</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2slFttLYqI/AAAAAAAAB5A/O2SWtrb40Gw/s1600-h/Calendar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2slFttLYqI/AAAAAAAAB5A/O2SWtrb40Gw/s320/Calendar.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>[via amazon] </i></span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm thinking I need a calendar like this for <b>all</b> aspects of my life. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course I wouldn't do <i>everything </i>it told me to, but it'd be nice to eliminate some "hmmm, what should I do?" moments. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Like when your girlfriend's 1 yr old wants to stick the drooly plastic stick he's been chomping on, into your mouth. Because he doesn't know you're the BIGGEST germaphobe ever. Or does he? I mean do you <b>a)</b>Smile and let him stick it in your mouth and say "nom, nom, nom" <b>b)</b>Politely decline and get him to stick it back in <i>his</i> mouth or <b>c)</b>Smack it out of your face and say "heck no". </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">C of course is not an option. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But it might be if a calendar told me so.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Or when family members tell you you've gained weight. Then wink. Do you <b>a)</b>Smile and say "thank you(?)" <b>b)</b>Cry because you're not pregnant but your dress makes you appear as though you are or <b>c)</b>Tell them their hairlines have receded since the last family BBQ. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course B and C aren't options.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But they could be...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Or when the driver in front of you decides to drive 40km/h in a 70 zone. Do you <b>a)</b>Pretend he has a bumper sticker that says "Honk if you Love Dogs" <b>b)</b>Get out from behind him, siddle up and ask if he'd like to drive a donkey cart instead or <b>c)</b>Pull over and walk home. It'll be faster.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course A, B or C aren't options.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But they could be...</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I kid. I couldn't do it even if a calendar told me to. <strike>But catch me on a bad day...</strike></span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2-Avk57e1I/AAAAAAAAB9w/M8CnryhtOhQ/s1600-h/OTKs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2-Avk57e1I/AAAAAAAAB9w/M8CnryhtOhQ/s400/OTKs.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <i>Embellished Tunic</i> - F21, <i>Leggings</i> - Aritzia, <i>OTKs</i> - Guess(2008)</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">W</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">ith my type A personality, I like order in my life so I tend to stick to what I already do or know. But maybe, in doing so, I've missed out. Maybe not on the drooly stick. But I kinda dig this trying new stuff. Is it weird that I'll take dinner suggestions from a calendar rather than just have S tell me what he'd like to eat? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I suppose it helps that the calendar won't make a sad face if I say "no".</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">xo Ela</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hope you had a fabulous weekend!</span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2829928745404773984.post-14275957183835622812010-02-05T00:00:00.044-05:002010-02-05T00:38:32.154-05:00Face It...<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When I was little my mom always told me I'd be tall. Now, I'm taller. Than a hobbit. And toddlers. But that's about it. I had dreams of being a dentist. Surprised? I have an obsession with people having nice clean teeth. Now I find myself getting lazy about flossing <strike>once</strike> twice a day. It's time I face it, <strike>I will never be a tall dentist</strike> life knows what I need more than I do.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That said, I've also recently had to face that I:</span></span></div><ul><li><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No longer, and doubt I will ever, have anything close to a six-pack again.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The more I hit the gym, the more junk I <strike>need</strike> want to eat.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Always seem to have the car on empty on the coldest of days.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It will always rain or snow. The day after we get a carwash.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cannot sing. Even if <a href="http://www.us.playstation.com/singstar/">SingStar</a> tells me that I can. But at least I have fun trying.</span></span></li>
</ul><ul></ul><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Speaking of *faces*, a few weeks ago the gorgeous <a href="http://clarabelleblog.com/" style="color: blue;">Clare</a> asked if I would do a makeup post. "Sure," I said, "I'd love to!" Silly, silly me. Um, taking pictures with your eyes closed...a little harder than I thought. Never mind that I had no idea how to put this post together. Clare, here goes... </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syS39lrLI/AAAAAAAAB6A/f2lnzImQCvQ/s1600-h/MakeupFoundation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="117" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syS39lrLI/AAAAAAAAB6A/f2lnzImQCvQ/s400/MakeupFoundation.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I start with moisturizer and M.A.C Studio Fix in <i><b>C4</b></i>, applied with a kabuki brush. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I prefer it to a sponge.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syIZPeiXI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/jupC8cQ4w5I/s1600-h/MakeupBrows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="103" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syIZPeiXI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/jupC8cQ4w5I/s400/MakeupBrows.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Isn't math fun? </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My brows aren't thin, the hair is just very fine so I fill them in with </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">an angle brush and <b><i>Brun</i></b> eyeshadow.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2s0YbK4zjI/AAAAAAAAB6g/wuu8z_4Vji8/s1600-h/MakeupESPrimer2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2s0YbK4zjI/AAAAAAAAB6g/wuu8z_4Vji8/s320/MakeupESPrimer2.jpg" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Urban Decay's Eyeshadow Primer Potion</i> is <b>seriously</b> the best thing ever. Gives oomph to colours and great longevity - eye shadow lasts all day without creasing.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syO9z0-HI/AAAAAAAAB5w/Ti36B26ytJA/s1600-h/MakeupEyesHighlight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syO9z0-HI/AAAAAAAAB5w/Ti36B26ytJA/s400/MakeupEyesHighlight.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With the M.A.C. 224 brush, I apply <i><b>Shroom</b> </i>from below my brow to my lash line, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">well into the inner corners of my eyes.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syY624GzI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/ovnOU4EicXs/s1600-h/MakeupYogurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="85" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syY624GzI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/ovnOU4EicXs/s400/MakeupYogurt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I apply <b><i>Yogurt</i></b> to my eyelids.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syM-CUEVI/AAAAAAAAB5o/y3XoWl7fWh0/s1600-h/MakeupEyesBase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="85" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syM-CUEVI/AAAAAAAAB5o/y3XoWl7fWh0/s400/MakeupEyesBase.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I apply <i><b>GO</b></i> the outer crease towards the middle of my eyelids, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">then use the 219 brush to line my lower lashes.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syQ3les8I/AAAAAAAAB54/wyJXSri1QFs/s1600-h/MakeupEyesWLiner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="85" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syQ3les8I/AAAAAAAAB54/wyJXSri1QFs/s400/MakeupEyesWLiner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Apply <b><i>Glamour Check! </i></b>with the 219 brush to the outer corner of my eyes in a small V and take a <b>wet</b><i> </i>angled brush to draw the shadow on as a liner at my upper <b>and</b> lower lash lines.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syU3eFfwI/AAAAAAAAB6I/lWzrxtRTU68/s1600-h/MakeupLashes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syU3eFfwI/AAAAAAAAB6I/lWzrxtRTU68/s400/MakeupLashes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My super straight lashes get a boost from a curler followed by mascara. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I've been a DiorShow girl but I'm loving Maybelline's <i>Pulse Perfection</i> mascara in <i>Very Black</i>. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syGw5E3kI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/Tu42uxbAY3E/s1600-h/MakeupBronzer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syGw5E3kI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/Tu42uxbAY3E/s400/MakeupBronzer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Making a fish face and brushing M.A.C<i>. </i>Highligthing Powder in <b><i>Golden Nectar</i></b> below the cheekbones.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syFBG9ChI/AAAAAAAAB5I/nzlXYio3JU8/s1600-h/MakeupApples.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syFBG9ChI/AAAAAAAAB5I/nzlXYio3JU8/s400/MakeupApples.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Smiling to apply the <b><i>Gentle</i></b> Mineralize Blush to just the apples of my cheeks.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syXNgS-xI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/kDOnBdL_cfo/s1600-h/MakeupLips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2syXNgS-xI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/kDOnBdL_cfo/s320/MakeupLips.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Line lips with Rimmel <b><i>Eastend Snob</i></b>, add Blistex to moisturize, M.A.C. lipstick in <b><i>Chatterbox</i></b> and M.A.C. Dazzleglass creme gloss in <i><b>My Favourite Pink.</b></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2s1rpl-lQI/AAAAAAAAB6o/K_g3izpgpbk/s1600-h/MakeupFinish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgAp3GrXJAc/S2s1rpl-lQI/AAAAAAAAB6o/K_g3izpgpbk/s320/MakeupFinish.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That's it, got my face on!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To finish this post off, I am so excited to announce the winner of the <a href="http://extradots.blogspot.com/2010/01/shabby-apple-giveaway.html" style="color: #cc0000;">Shabby Apple Giveaway</a> is the one and only...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/"><b style="color: magenta;">KS</b></a> of <a href="http://ks-waiting.blogspot.com/" style="color: magenta;">While We're Waiting</a>!!! I can't wait to see you in that dress!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Once again, thank you <a href="http://www.shabbyapple.com/" style="color: #cc0000;">Shabby Apple</a>! And thank you to all who entered! Don't forget, you can still get <b>10% off</b> at Shabby Apple, simply use the code <b style="color: #cc0000;">ExtraDots10OFF</b> till <b>Feb 27th</b>. The discount is valid for International readers as well!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Happy weekend!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">xo Ela</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">p.s. Anything you had to face recently? </span></span></div>Elahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14467087758859804644noreply@blogger.com41