chicago to LA

4 1/2 years ago, right after tying the knot, my husband and I moved across the country for a job opportunity in Illinois. Oak Park, Illinois to be exact. The birthplace of Ernest Hemingway and the home of Frank Llyod Wright. A charming city, just west of Chicago filled with beautiful homes and wide streets with a canopy of oak trees growing on either side that meet in the middle. We had travelled to Oak Park 2 months before our move and looked at exactly 34 homes before choosing one, making an offer and signing the paperwork...all in one warm, sunny September weekend. We were filled with anticipation and giddiness as we set off on our road trip to our new home. We had just celebrated my birthday and were looking forward to an autumn filled with brisk weather, changing leaves and warm cable knit sweaters. However, exactly 1 day in to our road trip, that giddiness faded as I realized that a cross country road trip was not my style. Much of the road between California and Illinois is filled with a great vastness of nothingness. Broken radio stations, rest stops and fast food are hardly the things dreams are made of. Yes, we stopped to see the Grand Canyon and the Oklahoma City memorial but by the time we hit the St Louis arch, I  wasn't interested in stopping. Like Clark Griswald before me, circling the arch in the car was enough for me.

Merry New Years!

New Years eve has always been a night viewed with high expectation. The time spent finding the right way to celebrate, the right people to celebrate with and the right outfit to celebrate in. Once the perfect plan is laid out, there are the countless hours spent, primping, decorating, glittering, bedazzling...so that when the clock strikes midnight we are magically transformed into our new reality. The truth of new years eve in my younger years, more often than not, were hysterically good times, too many libations, false eyelashes that we were unable to remove for 2 or more days and a new years day that started with a headache and ended with a hazy memory of the night before. These days, its the hope that you can spend some precious time gathering with family and friends, celebrating the final night of a year that has probably brought both great days and heartbreaks and ring in a new year that you hope will bring you more good than bad. Or more correctly, a night where you hope you can make it up til 12, but are secretly glad that you didnt, because those little lines around your eyes are constant reminders that you're getting older and need more rest. 

This year, we gathered with friends at their house, before they headed out to a pre paid hotel party, that we had no interest in attending. And even though I'm 35, and even though we werent heading to the hotel party, I still bought myself some sequined mini shorts at forever 21. My husband took one look at me and let me know that "I am no longer 18". I dont care...to me New Years Eve has always been about sequins. On your eyes, on your clothes on your bod...wherever. We bid our friends goodbye at 8:15 and headed to another friends house for exactly 30 minutes. We dragged ourselves home at 9:45 congratulating ourselves on our late night. I spent another hour watching cnn highlights of 2011 before calling it a night, reminding myself that it was already 2012 somewhere!

I recently saw a friends post on facebook that read "may the best days of 2011, be the worst of 2012". I thought to myself "thats exactly right". What we are all secretly hoping, praying, looking for as we toast each other into a new year is that we can leave behind the things that broke us and enter a new year re-energized, positive and hopeful that only good will come our way. Truthfully, life will always bring us both highs and lows...its how we learn to recognize the good things...by crawling through the bad. Its what makes us wiser, more mature and more compassionate. They are the growing pains of life. Last night as I stood outside with my dog in my pajamas at 10:15, a young, inebriated man stumbled past me, took one look at me and snickered to himself. And as much as I am grateful to not be hungover today, am content to be in pjs at 10:15 while my child sleeps peacefully upstairs, am wise enough to know that those days are more or less behind me...I couldn't help envy that kid. Envy and wish he knew that the middle-aged woman in pink pajamas can still rock sequin hot pants :)

New Years Resolution

My new Years resolution this year was to start and more importantly keep a blog. I have loved writing since I was young and have been inspired by blogs I've read and people I know who have dedicated themselves to the practice of writing. The purpose isn't to gain or keep an audience, but rather to have a forum to express myself....other than facebook.  If I amuse you along the way, then we both win. The name of this blog is my dogs middle name....as in Ralphie Bubba Chuckles. That in itself should tell you about my personailty. Quirky, sarcastic and always looking for the funny in life. If there is one thing I've learned thus far, its to aways find the funny. So, I begin this journey and hope you'll come with me along the way