The Dude Gospel

Shine

Click Image to go to Amy Rice's Etsy site

Like Thy Neighbor

Neighbors are intimate strangers. They’ve witnessed the shameful number of times it takes me to parallel park, the embarrassing amount of trash I accumulate in a week, and the mortifying frequency of online shopping UPS drop offs on my doorstep. They know way too much to ever put me on that initial friendship pedestal. And isn’t being blissfully unaware of each other’s flaws one of the enticements of starting a sparkly new friendship? But, as I learned recently, we should reach out to our neighbors anyway.

In the fifties, women were always dashing next door to borrow sugar, seeking a momentary respite from all that solitary domestic bliss. We should bring back the “Cup of Sugar” excuse. Let’s just start borrowing shit from our neighbors to get the sense of community flowing. And if you’re not the kumbaya type, remember there are times when you might not want to be alone, when you might need to reach out: say when you need to borrow their ladder because your roof is leaking, your hair dryer burned out thirty minutes before a hot date, or when you need to hook up to their generator post-apocalypse.

My big phobia is being sick and home alone. Not like sniffle sick. Like body attacking itself, gonna die sick. Six years ago, I went into anaphylaxis after taking an antibiotic. Hitch makes anaphylaxis seem funny; It wasn’t funny. It was potentially tragic My Girl unfunny. (Did that film emotionally scar anyone else?) Luckily, I was with my parents, and we made it to the ER moments before a tracheotomy would have been in order. If I'd been home alone, I might have crawled under my Anthropologie duvet and asphyxiated. So, when my body freaks out, I reach out.

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Stair-Gazing

MDolla

If you want to make an audience laugh, you dress a man up like an old lady and push her down the stairs. If you want to make comedy writers laugh, you push an actual old lady down the stairs. -Tina Fey

I live with a comedy writer. If I ever have to tackle stairs on my crutches again, I'm not taking any chances. I'm installing this slide...

Super Bowl Fun Times

Greetings from Indianapolis!

I've learned three things so far. People in Indiana are super nice until you mention the Patriots. If you wear sunglasses indoors, people look at you like you might be famous. And if you stand in the hotel lobby by yourself at night, older men will ask you: Where's the party?, which I'm pretty sure is code for: Are you an escort?

I hate being a girl who doesn't know much about football. But I have a hard time concentrating on a game when there's chips and dip to be scarfed down and margaritas to be made. Luckily, my girlfriend Claire Coffee knows a ton. Read her clever posts explaining the nuances of football over at: Hello Giggles. 

And P.S., I was savvy enough to recognize Rex Ryan, Michael Irvin, & Mike Ditka in our hotel lobby...Thank you HBO, Dancing with the Stars, and SNL. 

xo

Huffington Post: Ellie's 100 year-old great-aunt Ida

My great-aunt Ida loves to say, "This is only the beginning." Gearing up for her 101st birthday this May, Ida thrives on a daily Coca-Cola, full-bellied laughter, and an abundance of nourishing memories. Ida is remarkable not only for how long she's lived, but also for how she's lived: always open to the call to adventure...

Read the rest here:

This is Only the Beginning: Surprising Advice from a Centenarian

Screw Perfectionism: Look Up & Out!

How amazeballs is this Anne Lamott quote? I'm looking down at my feet all the time and not just metaphorically. My gaze falls to the ground when I retreat into my own little world of anxiety and distraction. And because of this, I get hurt an awful lot. I end up slamming my head into things like stacked washing machine doors and worse. I earned a concussion by skiing forehead first into a ski sign. And there was the time I got karate chopped in the face by an automatic parking gate in an outdoor lot. I'm lucky I still have a head attached to my body. Here's a lovely picture of that meltdown before the black eye developed...

HESITATION is another one of my false comforts. Second guessing is 10x more dangerous than trusting my initial impulse. I've gotten in two car wrecks thanks to my hesitation.

The deal is: we're all going to die anyway. I might as well Look Up and Out, trust my instincts, and take in the world around me while I still have it. At least, I'll get fewer black eyes.

Clean Eating

VACUUM fried Chips totally qualify as CLEAN EATING, right? Get it? Yeah. Sorry about that.

Ellie on Huffington Post

The first in a series for HUFFINGTON POST. Please read and share with the women in your life.

Doctors Saved My Leg, But Girlfriends Saved My Spirit

someone pretty please tell me who did this amazing painting. It was too perfect not to share.

*Do you have amazing friends who got you through a rough patch? Please share below.