I love...leopard print.

My obsession with leopard print started in college.

First I got a leopard print purse. Then a tank top. Then it was my bed sheets and comforter. I found a leopard print dress that I wore for a birthday. Then I'd borrow my roommate's leopard print pants. I found some sweaters, a lamp shade, gloves, a scarf, an address book, jewelery, a cute winter hat...

Turns out you can find pretty much anything in leopard print.

Over time I have learned an important lesson about leopard print: Less is more. You don't need to wear a pair of leopard print gloves, hat, purse and jacket all at once. Try just the gloves. Or just carry the purse. Maybe just a jacket with some small leopard print detail.


Some of my original leopard print belongings are no longer with me, like my comforter that was outgrown by my bed. And my tank top that got old and worn. And my leopard print halter dress that I never should have owned (oh, did I not mention that it was a halter dress? um, yea...college?). Then other items have been updated, like my original purse that was given away and eventually replaced with a small leopard print clutch. Or my scarf that I eventually lost and replaced with a new leopard print scarf.

Tonight as I changed my clothes before heading over to a friend's house for dinner, I realized the weather had gotten just chilly enough to wear my comfy, leopard print sweater. This reminded me of another lesson I've learned about leopard print: Every day should have a little bit of leopard print in it.

I hope your day is full of love, laughter and just the right amount of leopard print!

I love...aging.

As I type this, I am one year older than the last time I typed here.

Well, I guess I'm officially one week older...but what I'm trying to say is that I've had a birthday!

Of course, with a birthday comes an increase in age. So yes, I've aged. And I love it.

Some people look at aging as growing another year older. I like to look at it as gaining another year.

It's another year of knowing long-time friends. Like this year when a friend took me out for a birthday dinner and pointed out that we've now known each other for 16 years.

It's another year of learning new things about yourself. Like the year I learned that I liked pickles when I forgot to pick them off my cheeseburger.

It's another year of overcoming your fears. Like the year I sang at my first open mic night.

It's another year of meeting new friends. Like the year I went off to college and met some of my best friends. Or the year I moved back to Cleveland and met some more of my best friends.

It's another year of inside jokes. Great movies. Wonderful songs. Good choices. Bad choices. New beginnings.
It's another year for you to make even better than the year before.

My newest year started off with good friends, sunny skies, a dance party and karaoke.
It was a great start to another year that is full of possibilities...

  

I love...weekend stories.

This weekend I slept with a pilot.

Okay, I guess I should probably start from the beginning of my weekend to explain how this came about. Here's what happened...

Friday I woke up with a bit of a cold. I'd felt it coming on for a couple days, but Friday it was in full force. This was a bummer since I had a wedding to go to over the weekend, so I decided to push through and ignore it. Friday night I went to ABC Tavern in Ohio City to celebrate my friends' 30th, 31st and 32nd birthdays. I gifted them each with a light-up yo-yo...I think they enjoyed them (yo? yo!). I made it somewhat of an early night since I was getting up extra early the next morning to catch a flight to Charlotte, NC for the wedding.

Saturday morning I was up before the sun. My cold was still hanging around, but I continued to ignore it. I got to the airport and flew to Charlotte with no problems. Some family friends were kind enough to pick me up and let me stay with them. We had lunch, caught up and then got ready for the wedding. The wedding was for my friends Adam & Kelly. It was a wonderful, outdoor wedding, the bride was beautiful and they both looked so happy! The reception was a great time and I got to see a lot of people that I hadn't seen in awhile. We drank. We danced. We sang. We stayed up late. And we spoke with fancy accents and used our fingers as fake monocles (I do declare it was hilarious!). Congratulations to Adam & Kelly!

Then that brings us to Sunday. I woke up and that sneaky cold was still hanging around - and now it was angry that I'd been ignoring it, but with the weekend coming to a close I was no longer concerned with ignoring it. I said farewell to my friends, got to the airport, made my way through security, bought a large orange juice and, in somewhat of a cold-haze, I found a seat at my gate. Sitting next to me was a little boy in a Josh Cribbs jersey trying to charm a nearby stranger for candy. I, however, had no interest in candy, I had only visions of sleeping on the plane dancing in my head. Finally we were able to board. It was a small plane and a full flight, I watched as seats filled up all around me, little Cribbs walked on the plane and sat behind me, but the seat right next to me remained empty. Just as I thought I'd managed to find the row with the only open seat on the plane, a man in a pilot uniform walked through the door. He spoke with the flight attendant and she pointed toward the open seat next to me. He walked back, smiled, but just before he sat down the flight attendant told him he was allowed to sit in the cockpit if he'd like. He declined, stating that he was okay in the seat and was planning to fall asleep. As soon as he said that, I knew we'd get along wonderfully. I think I was asleep before the flight attendant finished telling us where the emergency exits were located, my cold had finally won. The next thing I remember is little Cribbs screaming and kicking at the back of my seat. Apparently the candy he'd acquired earlier was now kicking in. As my eyes opened, I realized I'd slept for most of the flight. I slowly picked my head up and looked to my right to find the pilot was also asleep with his head almost touching mine.

So that's the story of my weekend and how after all of the birthday-partying, wedding-celebrating and cold-ignoring, I finally ended it by sleeping on a plane, with a pilot.

I love...polite road rage.

My drive home from work today was...frustrating. I started on my usual route, but some roads were closed and every turn I took turned out to be the wrong turn. And with every wrong turn there was traffic, traffic and more traffic.

Several years ago this would have been no problem. I used to be the person letting everyone merge, letting everyone turn and patiently waiting as the person in front of me scooted down the road at 5MPH.

But that all changed and somewhere along the line I developed a small case of road rage.


To be clear, I don't have the chasing people down the highway, running them off the road type of road rage. Mine is more of a "polite" road rage.




For example, I often catch myself yelling things like:

• "Share the road, please!" (when someone isn't letting me merge on the highway)
• "I'm not going to send you an invitation!" (when the person in the lane next to me with their blinker on isn't moving over as quickly as I would like)
• "Oh please, after you!" (sarcastically - when someone cuts me off)

Then there was the time I was driving my sister Lisa to Columbus to see our family. There we were on I-71 South, nice weather, no traffic, and the guy in the car behind me could not have been any closer to my car's bumper unless he was sitting on it. I watched him in my rear view, then looked away and chatted with Lisa. I looked again, he was still there. I was in the middle lane, the lanes on either side of me were wide open, what was he doing? Still, I remained calm. Lisa and I chatted about something that she then began to look up on Facebook. I looked again...he was still there! That's when I couldn't take anymore and I yelled: "What do you want, sir?!" Though the tone of my voice made Lisa look as though she wanted to jump out the car window, it was what I actually yelled that made us laugh till we cried. That went on for about five minutes, and somewhere in that time the guy behind me realized there was more than one lane on the highway and he passed me.

As for today's traffic situation, I managed to make it home while only dropping a few "P "& "S" words ("please" & "sir").

So the next time you're driving with me in traffic get ready to tip your hat or curtsy your butt off, because being frustrated doesn't mean you can't still be polite.