Ah, juicing...

Um, so I’m just gonna go there and this is the Internet so you can mock me from afar and not to my face.

I’m thinking to myself, “Self. You’re having poop kittens. (If you want to know what poop kittens are, click here and read MODG. She’s amazing) Hrm. I know, I’ll start juicing and eating fibrous things and it’ll be fine!”

That was yesterday and I continued having poop kittens.

THEN TODAY CAME

I’m all, “Self, your tummy feels weird but go ahead and juice pears, plums, kale, carrots, and strawberries. You’ll be fine.”

Guess what, I’m NOT fine.

Husband Support

So last night I tell M, (beloved husband) that I might start a blog. His response was this:


Crickets…


M: Um, I thought you hated your information on the internet?
Me: Well, they will know my first name only.
M: But it will be about your everyday life. Isn’t that the point of a blog?
Me: Um, well, I’m gonna make it more interesting than that. And not tell them my name or where I live, (maybe).

And then I get all embarrassed and don’t tell him the rest because I find it presumptuous that I would have funny things to say about my weird head.

Anyway, I did think of more subheadings/topics including the following: Soapbox, (so I can rant about things) Things that go bump in the night, (I was thinking about calling it Vampires but then a bunch of tweeners might be googling Twilight and get me instead) ellie’s booze, Eleanore drinks, buttoned-up-hippie-style, Slightly Inappropriate but Newsworthy, and Very Inappropriate.

Share your thoughts!

Oh, the shame...

In this initial blog, I feel that i should share with you the nature of ellie vs Eleanore: nuttso! I was named Eleanore after my dear grandmother who was a Lady in every way. You know, gardening without sweating, never a run in her stocking, always something polite to say unless you trash-talked her kids or family and then she had some frickin' cracktastic ways of telling people off. I grew into a lovely, awkward, nerd-diva who loved to please others, didn't swear or discuss inappropriate things with others. This was age 8. It was downhill from there! Along came ellie who had a penchant for getting dirty in dress up clothes, swearing, discussing poop, and a deepscrecretheartsdesire to be a hippie.

Now that I'm nearing 30, ellie and Eleanore continue to have the battle of who's in charge, when to cuss or not to cuss, flexitarian or vegetarian, and what buttoned up pearls to wear or granola-esq sandals to rock. It's a daily battle that my husband and dog put up with even though they aren't sure who they are dealing with at the moment. Can you say FUN?!