The History of Ellen

Inspired by today’s blog about unwritten blog entries over at www.iambossy.com, I thought I could write a history of the cars in my life! Shall I begin in chronological order? Shall I include cars I actually drove/owned and also those I just wanted? Hmmm.

The first car I really ever had an obsessive material desire for was a certain Rolls Royce Corniche convertible in aqua.
Needless to say, I never even touched that car, only looked at it through the glass. It was in a car dealer’s shop in Monterey, and at the time I could envision myself, top down, red hair billowing in the wind, cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway. Pause for deep sigh. Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

Growing up we had numerous cars, and I think I puked in each and every one of them. I remember the Fiat, which I thought could fly like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (very gullible child was I). I remember the emerald green Capri, the odd green with wood panelled sides station wagon. I helped peel the paint off in big crispy chips! The big ass gas guzzling Buick LeSabre that I learned to drive in. And, if you can learn to parallel park on a narrow street in Carmel in that boat, you can parallel park anywhere! I am a great parallel parker.

There was the blue bomber – an awesomely cool ’71 Chevy Impala with a 350 engine and a steel body. That car was a boat, and huge enough to be a small apartment for a while.

My very first ever brand new car was a navy blue VW Golf. Loved that car! Traded it in on a Jetta. Screeching halt here while I pause to remember paying that car off even though my ex husband made off with it and got it repoed. I have omitted the various numbers of clunkers that were purchased during that unfortunate period of my life.

After, during single-mom-in-college days, I had a station wagon – don’t remember the make, but the license was jstktnme – loved that! I left it smoking in a parking lot on the corner of the first school I taught at, during the first month!

Next my beloved Toyota Corolla. I’d still have it to this day, complete with melted crayons in the back, except it was the car my kid learned to drive in, and well, she also learned to crash in….totalled.

And next came VW Passat Station Wagon – green! My peapod, which was hated by current husband, went bye bye in favor of the Scion TC in burgundy that I cruise around in these days. I covet my husband’s Matrix, which he doesn’t even like me to think about driving, but he won’t switch.

Given my commute, I should get a Prius. Given the recent weather, I should get a 4 wheel drive Subaru (accent on the a syllable like Wil Ferrell on SNL). Given my debt status, will not get anything. Not anytime soon anyway. Cue Janis: Oh, Lord won’t you buy me….

Well, I am loving the snow. The last snow that amounted to this deep of a pile was when I first moved up here and my first year teaching. Katie and i were stranded with no cable and no phone. We had a blast sledding, though. And playing games and reading. This time, Katie isn’t home and Scott and i are stranded, with plenty of iPhones, and Fios to make us electronically happy. I would like to play a board game – but it is doubtful that we will.

Holidays offer too much pressure. Are your decorations up? Cards mailed? Cookies baked? oMG! I have not done any of those things and I may not do them at all. And, that is fine with me. I will clean the house, and maybe make cookies, and i have filled out some cards, but all of those things are because I want to, not have to. No guilt.

School is sucking this year. The kids are ok, but the coworkers are awful. Back stabbing bitches. Greed, jealousy, and general malaise have crept into the building lowering morale into the basement. I am considering leaving teaching for something else soon. Very soon. But, i want something with summers and snow days. Hmmmm.

I love this time of year. Perhaps it is living in a place that is this temperature or close to it year round (Central Coastal California). But, the crisp air, the smell, and the sights are wonderful. I gladly walk the dog, pull weeds, and sweep/rake — anything outside.

But, then again….the leaves are coming….oh boy!

Watching the Redskins game and on a slo-mo replay, I noticed that the tight pants of the Carolina team are white and see through. Then I wondered some more, and found this:
http://www.internationaljock.com/articles/history-of-the-jockstrap.html

Wow.

I am obsessed with hair on very many levels. Probably because I am a redhead from birth. This fact has caused me much trrauma, but also many kudos and a lot of attention. Attention can be a good or a bad thing.

One thing about my family is that red hair runs on both sides. My grandmother Helen Paine Weber had red hair, then came me, then my cousin Stephen Schultz, then my cousin Jeff’s daughter: Helen. On my dad’s side, my MorMor (really FarMorMor) supposedly had red hair as did my grandmother, her daughter Anna. Anna went by Ann – apparently hating the name Anna, and I never knew her to claim reing dheadedness, so I am skeptical, preferring to believe she was a golden blonde. My grandpa, the only one I ever knew, and who I have nothing but joyful, loving memories of supposedly was a blonde who went white very young.

This brings me to my own hair. Being a redhead is not easy. You can’t fade into the background and be shy. I did try, though. You can’t get a tan. I tried that, too. Ouch. At a young age you hear things like “red-headed step child” in not very positive light. And then, it happens. IT. You mature, and I am not sure if it is a curiosity about private things or not, suddenly, redheats are ***HOT*** By the time I found this out, I was too old for the party. Oh, well.

I am white, don’t tan, just burn and freckle. My hair is course, and frizzy. I go white at a young age. I have freckles – a lot of freckles. I hated them and my frizz and red hair all my life.

I hated my new white hair….until a conversation with my mom today. I whined about Loreal not covering all my white hairs. She said, “Just like Grandpa, you have early white hair, he was all white before 30” And I thought, well if I could have something in common with the hero of my life, my beloved Grandpa Weber, who lit up when he saw me, who brought me lifesavers (pepomint) who listened to baseball on a transistor radio, who played golf, who adored his wife (the redhead) who adored his girls (all 4), who genuinely loved us all unconditionally and who I miss every day since I was 9 and he died; well if I have one thing in common, and it is white hair, then OK, I’ll embrace it.

Thanks Grandpa, for the great DNA. I miss you. I always will.

I wish I could hit delete on things that come out of my mouth. I am haunted by the stupid things I say. I met up with some other bloggers a while back, actually the famous Bossy, and famous at least to me, Vuboq. I asked Vuboq what his name stood for, having not read much of his blog at that point if any. He said, Vicious, Unrepentant, Bitter, Old, Queen. I thought that was clever, but I said, “of which you of course are none.” He and Bossy looked at me for a second, and I realized. DUMB. I was trying to pay a compliment, that he didn’t seem bitter, or vicious too me and not the least bit old. Bitter, unrepentant, and a queen, are only adjectives that should be self applied in my opinion. I mean, I wouldn’t label someone that myself – except maybe queen but only if preceded by drama or her majesty the.

Another stupid thing is haunting me now. Last week in class, I attempted to get to know my fellow classmates at lunch. So, I asked a girl, obviously not from Virginia, where she was from, and she said “North Jersey.” Now, being sort of from New Jersey via my parents, and somewhat familiar with the geography, I said, “Paterson?” She was appalled, offended and quite pissed and didn’t speak to me any more during the colloquium. She then proceeded to educate those at the table that Paterson, along with my parents’ hometowns were in South Jersey. Since then, I have been wanting to eat my words, and simultaneously plaster a map of New Jersey in front of her and show her where indeed South Jersey actually is.

Also, in middle school, I said “Hi,” in a stupid southern accent to the librarian and was ridiculed and mocked for it. Perhaps I should learn to not remember so much.

I saw Julie and Julia today. With my parents. My only complaint: gratuitous sex scenes. Now, don’t get me wrong on this, I am a normal red blooded, and red headed female, and I like a sex scene or two. But, not when viewing a movie with my parents. I never expected this to happend in a scene from this movie. When my mom and I saw Sex and the City, I was mostly preprared. It was just mom and I, but, I underestimated the graphic nature since I had only watched few of the TV episodes. I said something to my mom during one scene, and she said, “Relax, and don’t be such a prude.” The Jury is out on whether or not that comment made me feel more or less comfortable.

Anyway, on to the Julia Child movie. I didn’t think i could love Julia Child, Meryl Streep, or Amy Adams any more than I did before this movie, but I confess, I love them each even more now.

Julia Child – wow….. I thought I knew a lot, but now, I am on a quest to read any and all biographies and autobiographies that are out there.
Meryl – she knocked it out of the park! We need to not say the common phrase after her performances anymore – “She’s always good” “Of course anohter Oscar for her” etc. I can’t say enough in this blog, or any other place (although I am looking forward to trying) of the masterful talent of the screen.
Amy Adams: I couldn’t name a role she played before without looking it up and I am not in the mood, so my judgement of her now comes from only this role and none before. She is the one who connected me emotionally to this film. When she was at her laptop writing about her marriage…..I developed a lump in my throat that lasted until my parents and my husband and I ended up at the local pizzaria after the movie. The pizza, yum, was fabulous. Surprising for my parent’s small town in rural Virginia.

Both my mom and I left the film with the desire to eat, if not actually cook, Boeff Bourginoinne misspelling intentional — the visions of it in the film were drool worthy.
First, I must, and I will obtain a Le Creuset orange dutch oven. Or, maybe not, but anywho…..I am totally going to try to make that. And, boneless stuffed duck….

The first item on the shopping list: The Art Of French Cooking
The second: The DVD of this movie – – for snow days and sad days, it is a cathartic and enriching experience I don’t think I’ll tire of soon.

I did my chores – not all the floors,ll the dog hair, or all the laundry, but at least some. I did make spaghetti sauce, buunt failed on cleaning the porch. It’s hot!!! Today I am reading a new book! And I found out about the National Book Day thingy on the mall in Sept!

I am letting myself get irritated by online people again. Time to back away from the laptop. Today I need to:

Vacuum lots of pet hair
do laundry
mop the floors
clean the kitty boxes
clean off the porch
make a pot of spaghetti sauce

I better get busy!

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