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Picasso and Ellie's Blue Period





The only thing that is going to cheer me up today is Pinterest for fucks sake. Thank you Jesus for Pinterest! I’m not so much depressed as I am frustrated. I am just frustrated that I’m the only smart person in my house. Don’t believe me? Well, let me give you today’s synopsis…

 


Against my better judgment, I was forced to go outdoors today in the freezing Parisian air. My husband thought it would be a good idea for me to get some fresh air and go to the newly reopened Picasso Museum because he knows that sort of thing makes me happy. Well, not fucking today. It takes a village to get me ready to go outside. It takes two people to dress me, put my makeup on, put on my hat, coat, gloves, get a hot water bottle ready blah blah blah. I am so high maintenance that I should be legally “put down.” I realize how obnoxious I can be insisting that my caregivers get everything situated just the way I like it. However, that scenario never happens. Nothing ever goes smoothly. Without fail, under my breath, I am saying to myself, “All of you are morons.” Let’s start with putting my shirt on… Even though my caregivers and my husband have been putting on my shirt on for what seems like decades, they can never seem to make it a smooth transaction. Somehow my arms always get twisted, and I end up half naked in front of my windows for all the world to see while they discuss the best way to take my shirt off. So today I was forced to yell, “Just make a decision and commit to it!” Then, not surprisingly, while my caregiver was taking his sweet time putting my arm into my T-shirt sleeve, my husband was wrestling my other arm into my sweater sleeve. Then, the two morons finally got my sweater over my head (nearly suffocating me) and I was forced to yell, “You put my sweater on backwards!” Now we had to take it off and go through the whole process again. I was already at my wits end and decided that the Picasso Museum wasn’t worth this kind of hell. Sorry Pablo. Apparently that was just too bad for me because my husband was forcing me to go… So I decided to become super bitch as his reward. Dumb and Dumber continued attempting to get me dressed and finally after 3000 attempts, I was nearly ready. However, now I needed makeup. Have you ever had a non-gay male put your makeup on? The movie Rocky Horror Picture Show comes to my mind. Just after my caregiver finished putting on my Dior Diorshow mascara, my husband immediately slammed my entire knit hat over my eyes and back up again smearing all of my newly applied mascara all over my eyes and halfway up my forehead. I think it is fair to say at this point that I hate my life.


We finally get downstairs and start our walk to the Picasso Museum. On a warm sunny day this is a pleasant 15 minute walk. On a day like today, it is a cold unpleasant 12 hour walk. I suggested we take an Uber but nooooooooo that would just be too sensible. 10 minutes into our walk, it starts to snow… On me. We were already too far from our apartment to go back yet too close to the museum to find a taxi so we just kept walking. Even though I was swathed in head to toe cashmere and a hot water bottle tucked under my cashmere blanket, I was still freezing. The good thing about a Parisian walk is that no matter how cold it is outside you are always distracted by something amazing. Pastry shops, chocolate shops, flower shops, antique shops etc. Even though I was freezing and most likely contracting the flu, meningitis, mononucleosis, and Ebola altogether, I still wanted to stop and look in the little shops. However, this was not to be. Why? Because Tweedledee and Tweedledum were thoroughly entrenched in a deep conversation about nothing in their secret code language (French) and could not hear me ask to stop pushing my wheelchair so I could look in the windows of the shops. I saw a darling little shop that looked like an old-fashioned candy shop but was actually a pistachio shop. A pistachio shop called La Pistacherie. I deemed it imperative that I visit the shop . This is one of the reasons why we live in Paris for God sake! You cannot really experience the magic of Paris in a car… It has to be on foot. The little sidestreets are where the jewels are. This is how Gracie and I found (10 years ago) our favorite Thai restaurant, Mai Thai, on a little street tucked into the oldest part of Paris called the Marais. Definitely a locals only joint with authentic Thai food like coconut lemongrass soup. We even sat next to Leslie Caron once. Off the beaten path is always the best choice. I think that could be a metaphor for life as well. However, La Pistacherie would not be for me today as my luck was already on a downward spiral. Without my breathing machine my voice is at a whisper. It is no match for the busy streets of Paris. No one could hear anything I was saying. That’s really safe. They just flew right past the pistachio shop without hearing a word I was saying. So now I was freezing and being ignored. A recipe for disaster.

 


Finally, we reached the Picasso Museum but not before my husband got lost for about 20 minutes. I have only pointed this out that he got lost because two hours before when we were at our apartment I suggested we take an Uber so we could get there quickly and without frostbite. My husband egotistically screamed at me, “The museum is only 10 minutes away. I have lived here my whole life and I know exactly where it is. We can walk!” After five hours we finally reached the museum. Good news/bad news: we got into the museum without waiting in a two hour line and we got in for free. The bad news is that you have to have ALS to get this special treatment.

 


So now that we were there, I tried to cheer up and just enjoy the museum. The Picasso Museum has been under construction for the past five years and oh my God it was worth the wait! There’s a great article titled, Nightmare at the Picasso Museum, detailing the long and sordid story about Picasso and the museum itself. Click here to read. When Gracie was young, I took her to the Picasso museum on a friend’s suggestion. I have never really been a huge Picasso fan but after visiting the museum I was smitten. By the way, on a side note, the friend who suggested that I go to the Picasso Museum had an affair with one of my dearest friend’s husband. I actually couldn’t believe it and thought it was only a rumor so I took my friend, the homewrecker, out for coffee and told her to give me her side of the story. I kid you not, she totally admitted to the affair without a blink of the eye. I said to her, “How could you do this? You are friends with the husband’s wife! Your daughters are friends!” Her response to me was, “Ellie, I’m in this for me.” Obviously. So, I was forced to abandon our friendship and publicly shame her which is too bad because I truly liked her before I knew she was a selfish, greedy homewrecker. Anyway, obviously all of this negativity was going through my head as we were touring the new Picasso Museum. Then I started to get a little bit of a headache. Then, the museum was so packed that I started to feel a bit claustrophobic. Then, because I was so wrapped up in arctic weather clothing, I started to overheat. Then, I started to slightly hyperventilate. I didn’t want to put on my breathing machine for the simple fact that I didn’t want to look ugly. I figured I would rather die in the Picasso Museum than have a breathing machine stapled to my face. Then, the combination of all of this forced me into a full-fledged panic attack. I had a little internal chitchat with Pablo Picasso and explained the situation to him and told him I would be back to the museum in the spring when I wasn’t so stressed out. He said that would be fine.

 


I told my husband that we needed to leave immediately. He blurted out his standard go-to-phrase, “Putain de bordel de merde de pompe a cul!  We just got here.” I didn’t care. I saw three floors of the museum and that was enough for my delicate disposition today. My husband reluctantly agreed to leave if we could just see one more group of paintings. Fine, I agreed, because I’m such an amazing wife. The next series of paintings were Picasso’s bull fighting interpretations. My caregiver said to David, “Did Picasso like bullfighting?” My husband thought he said, “Do you like bullfighting?” So, my husband went into an entire conversation about why he, himself, doesn’t like bullfighting.” I was forced to scream at him, “David! He didn’t ask you if you liked bullfighting. He asked if Picasso liked bullfighting. Why would he ask you if you liked bullfighting, you narcissistic moron.” I honestly just couldn’t take it anymore and demanded that we leave the museum because I was about to implode. Then, because nothing was going right for me today, my husband pushed all of the wrong buttons in the elevator and it took us 20 minutes to get to the ground floor. Well, my husband thought it was the ground-floor but it wasn’t so we had to get back on the elevator and find our way to the exit floor. Before that occurred, I was forced to give a family a vicious stare down in the elevator. Why do healthy people take the handicap elevator? I think that they should be fined $100 and then punched in the face… including the lazy little children.

 


Hallelujah! We finally reached the exterior courtyard of the museum and I could catch my breath and relax for a second. My other caregiver arrived to start his shift and give my morning caregiver a break. However, in true fashion, my caregiver realized that he left his backpack at our apartment. We only had one set of keys so David had to give my caregiver the keys to our apartment so he could go pick up his backpack. We asked him to hide the keys in our secret spot after he got his backpack and we told him that we would be home shortly. He agreed and started to walk back to our apartment ahead of us. I told David that I really needed to get home because I wasn’t feeling very well. He kept asking question after question… “No, David, I don’t want a pastry. I just want to go home. No, David, I don’t want a falafel. I just want to go home. No, David, I don’t want a Starbucks. I just want to go home.” Then, it started to rain… On me. I was forced to scream at David, “Hurry David! Hurry! Get me home!” His response, “Relax, are you going to die?” My response, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I just might. Do I need to remind you of that cute little respiratory illness last month that nearly killed me?” David picked up his pace and within 10 minutes we were home.

 


But guess what? There were no keys left in our secret spot and no caregiver to be found. I told David that I felt like I was being taking care of by baboons. Where was the caregiver and where were our keys? All I was looking forward to was my warm bed and a piping hot cup of chai tea with warm soymilk and two sugars but nooooooo… We now were sitting in the freezing cold entry of our building… Locked out. Call after call we made to the caregiver but no answer. Where the fuck was he! He left before us! After about 15 minutes, he shows up and I was forced to say with an ever so condescending tone, “Where were you? Did you stop for a beer? Did you go to the park? Did you stop for an espresso while I am waiting in the cold for you?” Guess what? The person that I trust to take care of me… The person that I trust with my life… That person, got lost. I asked him why he didn’t use his GPS on his cell phone and guess what? He left his phone in my apartment as well. I was forced to say to him, “Do you remember when I called you a moron this morning when you put my sweater on backwards? Well, do you blame me?”

 


When the two caregivers and my husband finally managed to get me all cozy in bed, I honestly just wanted to go to sleep and forget the day but I had a funny feeling I should call my friend Yolanda immediately. Even though it was early in California, Yolanda answered the phone via face time and before I could finish my sentence asking her how she was feeling with her Lyme disease, she started crying and then I started crying. Sometimes, no matter how strong you are a debilitating disease can just get the best of you. Today was that day. I love my Yogi so much and I wanted to offer her reassuring advice but I just didn’t have any. So we just cried for a little bit. Then I told her about my horrible day and we laughed for a little bit. We are both so sick of being sick and would do anything to get our lives back. I know everyone out there with chronic/terminal illnesses knows what I’m talking about.

 


So, after I got off the phone with Yolanda, I decided that I could either let the rest of the day go to shit or I could do something that makes me happy. I chose the latter. Enter Pinterest. I reminded myself that there is good in the world and that good, for me, comes in the form of decorating. Architecture, furniture, antiques, art… All of that stuff just makes my heart swoon and makes life bearable. Then I thought that we don’t really talk about decorating as much as I would like to on the blog and I decided that now we are going to. It is my passion so it is now going to be your passion as well. Just kidding. No, I’m not. I decided to take a house room by room and discuss it with all of you. If you don’t like it, please feel free to go read another crappy blog. Just kidding, I’m still a bit grumpy. Sorry. But honestly, if decorating doesn’t cheer you up, I don’t know what will. Food will but we can still do both. So, for the next few weeks let’s talk about decorating and also continue our 15 culinary dishes to master. Deal? I will try to pepper the blogs with other stuff as well so we don’t bore ourselves to death.



Tomorrow we’re going to start with entries/foyers/vestibules of a home. We can never make a first impression twice so the entry is almost the most important room in the house. Stay tuned and I promise I will come back with a super positive attitude tomorrow… Maybe. Just kidding, I promise I will.
 


To sum up my brilliant/not brilliant day, after reading about the trials and tribulations of the opening of the newly remodeled Picasso Museum, I have to say that it’s definitely worth a visit. You can skip waiting in line by ordering tickets online. Easy peasy. Or you could just get ALS and go through the handicap door, your choice. The building that houses the collection is a magnificent 17th-century hôtel particulier, Hôtel Salé. The central staircase is based on the stair plan of Michelangelo for the Laurentian library in Florence and is worth the visit alone. I advise doing a little background research on Picasso and his art because it makes the visit so much more enjoyable when you know the history behind each piece. For example, did you know that for Picasso’s whimsical Bull’s Head sculpture that the items were “found” during the dark days of World War II? According to PabloPicasso.com, “Bull's Head is described by art critic Eric Gibson as unique amongst Picasso's sculptures for its 'transparency' - the constituent found objects are not disguised. He says the sculpture is "a moment of wit and whimsy ...both childlike and highly sophisticated in its simplicity, it stands as an assertion of the transforming power of the human imagination at a time when human values were under siege." I mean, c’mon, if seeing that in person doesn’t float your boat, I don’t know what will.

A toute!


48 comments:

  1. I have no love for Picasso. Give me tacky hotel impressionist prints any day over a Picasso! But maybe if I had a guide to help me grasp it, I might understand and appreciate it. But probably not. I have to give this one to David. The execution may have been a mess, but his intention and commitment to taking you to bask in culture is just beautiful. It must take an iron will to stand up to you like that! And you look fabulously more put together than a lot of people I know! Your hair looks longer than you said it was! I feel just awful for Yolanda. Seems especially unfair considering that her health seems so good in the current season of RHOBH. Glad you can make each other laugh. Do you think your homewrecker friend was in the affair more for the guy or more to tear down his wife? I've been watching a situation like this unfold for two years now and I think, at least in my friends' case, it's more to do with the homewrecker making some sad power play. But in my friends' scenario it's hilarious because scorned wife has tons of $$$ (her's, not husbands) and can afford to make things terribly uncomfortable for homewrecker and her ex husband. I'm excited to read your decorating manifesto. Lastly, your dressing situation reminds me of this: http://youtu.be/J9V4vUPLQZQ

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    1. The homewrecker was in it for the money. She likes private planes and beach houses and ski chalets. But I always remember that what comes around goes around. Going to go look at that YouTube link… XOXO

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    2. Is The Homewrecker still with your friend's ex?
      Sheila

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  2. Picasso's "blue period" is a Trivia Crack question. Great way to capture this reader's attention!!

    LOVE the jacket and you're looking quite sassified in the pictures. Who cares if 25 Humpty Dumpties dressed you? All that matters is the end result....COMPLETE HOTNESS!!

    *Yawn* museums!! I can't even feign interest. I'm the friend that goes to museums and tries to open locked doors even if it's a broom closet. My bucket list is stealing the security cart from the guard at the Louvre.

    I'm so glad that you have cultured friends that appreciate the finer things in life. This friend will risk jail time in a foreign country. I'm obsessed with Vin Rouge - better yet stores that monogram Vin Rouge on my socks. Yes, I made everyone at airport security read them. Does this possibly mean I have a drinking problem??

    I can't go without mentioning my obsession of Lipton Onion soup mix, sour cream, and Ruffles Potato Chips. That's living large!!!! The other recipes are a bit complicated for me. I read them anyway because I love you so much!!

    Okay, one non trailer park comment...I am obsessed with designer anything and everything. If I ever get a tattoo. I feel it should be the Chanel logo across my forehead. That's not too trailer park?? Kinda Airstream (upscale)

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    1. Ruffles and onion sour cream dip? You can't begin to understand the pangs that brings to this expats heart, Debbie. ;)

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  3. Okay - confession: This is kinda how my life goes and I don't have ALS, I'm not paralyzed, I'm not in a wheelchair and dependent on others to dress me and push me around! If David and the caregivers would just listen to your directions!!!!! And if my family and my sons would just listen to mine, things would go smoothly!! There is a method to my madness! And yes; I wish you could have perused through those little shops on the way to the museum. (And to have once sat next to Leslie Caron!! Wow!) And then people like you and I get blamed by "them" when things go awry!! But am so happy you have David! He sounds so much like my husband whom I adored! But I have to say you looked fantastic in the end. But I agree; non-handicapped people who use handicapped spaces or elevators are INFURIATING!! I once tried to let my handicapped and elderly mother out in a driving rain in front of a store in the big city but a luxury sedan was parked right in front of the store where people should have been able to disembark and it was NOT moving. He was sitting there waiting for his wife who was shopping in the store. My mother had to walk a ways in the rain. When I parked and stormed up to the car to give the person a piece of my mind, imagine my surprise when I saw that it was the arrogant doctor from our little rural town!! I was livid and also hunted down his wife in the store and let his wife know what I thought too!! My mother was mortified as usual at my behavior! I can't wait for your decorating info. Am glad you and Yolanda had each other's shoulders to cry on. That's what friends are for!

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    1. Boy , do I have a story for you! I ran into John DeLorean in some leather store in West Hollywood right after he was exonerated (guilty as sin!!) Year?? (1980's?? remember wife Christina Ferrare stuck with him until the trial was over.....divorce filed the next day!)

      Anyway; My poor cousin was in the dressing room,,,,,and this total creep "came on" to me!

      I just turned to him; and said...."Are you kidding? How dare you speak to me? You should be a convicted felon! You belong behind bars!!"

      (Can you imagine the poor people who worked in that store? Not to mention, my poor cousin hiding in the dressing room?)

      I did. I wish I had had an iPhone and could have taken a picture of the look on his face!

      My poor cousin was just staying in the dressing room!

      I am proud of myself! Stand up to bad stuff!!!

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  4. "On a warm sunny day this is a pleasant 15 minute walk. On a day like today, it is a cold unpleasant 12 hour walk."

    That is the first time I laughed today. You have a way with words.

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  5. When I was young, at some point, handicapped restrooms appeared on the scene in the U.S. I had gone to Catholic school and was from Missouri and was taught to always obey the rules and listen to your elders so I never used the handicapped restroom for years after first seeing them. At some point, as I got a little older, someone waiting in line behind me said to me to use the empty stall. I thought to myself "but it's the handicapped." I guess she read my mind because she said, "No one's using it." I then sheepishly and with much guilt ventured to use this holiest-of-holies, Sanctum Sanctorum, the Handicapped Stall. It was lovely. It was huge! I never looked back after that day, and have shamelessly seeked out this welcoming respite countless times over the years. And I know this will sound unbelievable, but in like fifty years I can't remember seeing a handicapped person waiting to use the stall after me. Never thought of this before, but it's true. Of course if there ever was a handicapped person waiting for anything, I would never go in front of them. Unless I was peeing in my pants. In which case I guess it would already be too late anyway.
    I've never seen elevators in the U.S. that are specifically designated handicapped.
    Sheila

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    1. Are you thinking I'm bad for using the handicapped stall that no one else is using? Is this really bad?
      Sheila

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    2. Dear Sheila, I wasn't going to answer your question because I don't want to hurt your feelings. However, I didn't want to hurt your feelings by not answering your question either. So, since you asked… I guess I will answer. I would never put myself in the position to tell you what to do but let me say this… If my daughter Gracie used the handicap bathroom, I would ground her for two weeks. Even if no one is using the bathroom what if, while you were in their bathroom, they entered the bathroom needing to use it. It is already difficult enough being handicapped and having to wait even for five seconds to use the restroom is hell. The handicap bathroom is there for a reason… And it is not for you. Now, if you would like to be handicap so you can have a large restroom… Feel free. Oh boy, now look what you've done, now I am going to have to be an advocate for the handicap. :-) XOXO

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    3. Oops, I always thought of the larger stall being ACCESSIBLE to the handicapped not ONLY for the handicapped :)

      Here in the United States, a lot of the handicapped stalls have the children's changing tables in them. What is a mother to do?

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  6. I'm with STEPHEN on PICASSO .
    YUCK..........don't GET IT!
    Don't get MODERN ART actually!!!Who decides WHO becomes FAMOUS anyway???WE have totally DIGRESSED in the ART WORLD in my opinion........I'll take 17C, 18C any time.Even the CAVE PAINTINGS are more interesting than circles and triangles and boobs!
    Now, on to more IMPORTANT subjects which is YOUR COAT!
    IT's BEAUTIFUL as you are and by the way you look like you do not have a spot of make~up on........YOU DO?You are a NATURAL BEAUTY!They did A GREAT JOB applying cause one caNOT tell you have any on!Back to the COAT.I do not think it's WARM enough for PARIS!!!!You need one of those UGLY PUFFY LONG COATS..............that is what will keep you warm on those COLD COLD DAYS........RIGHT STEPHEN???I do not own one nor do I live where it drops below 40 degrees but I feel its NOT WARM ENOUGH..........Tell DAVID maybe HERMES makes a PRETTY ONE!!!!VALENTINES is coming...............then YOUR BIRTHDAY ARRIVES.............DO we all have MARCH 23 rd marked on the calendar??Remember, it takes about a week to 10 days from CALIFORNIA to arrive people.......I think we ALL should send BIRTHDAY WISHES!We have a month and a half to find the perfect card.............ON YOUR MARKS GET SET GO!!!!!!!
    ITs good you can VENT like THIS.............keep VENTING........WE YOUR COURT are here to LISTEN!
    XOXOXO

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    1. To what address would we send cards?
      Sheila

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    2. No no no… No one needs to send me a card. The friendship of all of you is enough. XOXO

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    3. SEND to ME and I will make a BIG BOX.............E.KIRKPATRICK
      16 Glorietta Court
      Orinda, Calif. 94563 USA
      BE Certain to write FOR ELEANOR on the card so I do not OPEN!Lets say by MARCH FIRST you all send to me to give me time to find a BOX and send overseas!!

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    4. Fabulous idea, Contessa. You are the Energizer Bunny of Generosity and Kindness.

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    5. Isn't she??????

      She is the BEST!!!!
      And we all love Ellie; and what a way to send our love!!!

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  7. Ellie... what a day!!! The scene that you describe getting your sweater on was too funny. Not so funny if you're the one going through it I'm afraid. So happy that you have so many wonderful friends that you can laugh as well as cry with. Stay strong, dear Ellie. Can't wait til your decorating posts. BTW... you look great!

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  8. I am hyperventilating in sympathy for you!! My grandmother had ALS.

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  9. I love La Pistacherie! It's the only place I can buy goji berries without feeling like a douche. I have to say though, I wouldn't wait two hours for the Picasso museum...this might say something about my plebian tastes. For some reason, when I went, only part of the collection was on display, which could be why I was more impressed with Hôtel Salé than the art itself.

    P.S. Not to be a creepy stalker, but you mentioned in a previous post you had some pajamas monogrammed here in Paris? Would you mind sharing where? I understand if it's a secret, it's just that lately I've been feeling the urge to monogram everything (like Roger Federer) and would love to find a place nearby.

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    1. There is an embroidery shop on rue de Valois, 75001. It is called Linge au Coeur. XOXO

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  10. I cannot even for one minute imagine my husband putting on my makeup or doing my hair. he can barely do his own hair and it's only about an inch long.

    i hope you talk about people that don't actually have a designated entry in their homes. mine is small and you walk right into the living room. please share any secrets you have.

    also, i live for beauty and elegance and so does this man. you will love and hate this story.

    http://www.latimes.com/local/great-reads/la-me-c1-beat-villa-carlotta-20150130-story.html#page=2

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  11. You don't need a caretaker, you need a mind reader! :) I know you like to call them morons, but according to the British Dictionary, Moron is "a person having an intelligence quotient of between 50 and 70, able to work under supervision." So what do you call someone unable to work under supervision?

    Pinterest soothes my soul. I'm looking forward to your next post since I have a Board dedicated to Interior Entrance Ways.


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  12. I work at an art museum and we have a piece that is used bars of soap in sardine cans. Rows and rows of used bars of soap.

    In. Sardine. Cans.

    I've looked at that a thousand times with the same thought. WTF.

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  13. THANK YOU! For the wonderful entertainment. I dropped the kids off at their religion class (Catholic classes my husband insists on!) and sat down in peace to savor your blog! You had me laughing out loud. I also love that you can vent to your fans and we all love to hear about it! I simply adore you and all that you have to say. LOVED your blog on the teenage daughters. My girls are 7 and 8 and I know the time is coming- it is knocking on my back door. Sadly! My 8 year old looks at me once in a while with a stink eye that is so nasty I can't believe it comes from her sweet little face- the same girl that clings to me and follows me everywhere in the house. I know those days are numbered and I will be in your shoes before I know it. But I also remember hating my mom and now we are great friends so it does come full circle. Anyway. Love you! Love your blogs! I love love that you write and do all that you do with ALS. I just know that I would have pity party after pity party all day long if I were in your shoes. You are such an inspiration and you make me love life even more every time I read your blog!I forget that you are sick because you are always doing something amazing and then I remember because I read something and I say WOW!!! this woman does all that she does and carries on like a champion! Can't wait for the next one! Keep warm over there Ellie! I HATE the cold!

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  14. I'll do everything in my power (of which I have none) to force you to commit to a few decorating posts. Pretty please? I'm sorry the museum day was not all positive. Your husband seems to have tremendous determination, as you do of course, as he was hoping it would turn out another way. The way you describe the bullfighting question/incident was great.

    I'm glad you share some details of how ALS affects the most basic daily tasks that many of us take for granted, because I swear that your blog, meaning you, is so well written and done that it makes your situation seem as though it were not as it is. It seems to mask the reality of what you must deal with. I hope you know what I mean: it's meant as a compliment, not to wallow in pity or negativity. Btw: you have gorgeous hair and it shows in the museum photos!

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  15. You made me laugh again today. Looking forward to the decorating posts. I hope you are comfortably safe in your warm apartment today.

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  16. I love Picasso. There, I said it. I love the rose period, the blue period, the Neo-Classical stage, the late works, all of it really. I have read the Richardson biographies and even had my Honey drive us out to see his castle at Vauvenargues even though it is closed to the public. So I guess that makes me the odd person out! Hmmm...well, in more ways than one most likely. hehe

    But for you to have a blue day...ah, that I am not happy to hear about it even if you did make me bark out with laughter a few times while reading this post (I have learned the hard way not to drink anything while reading your blog, otherwise, spit-take city). I will say it for the gazillionth time (since I have already written "the millionth time"): your writing is amazing - how you just slalom-ski us through so effortlessly - and the awareness that you are creating in such a unique, true to you way is beyond inspiring. Which brings me to the question lurking just below the surface: I would lovee to know what happened with the documentary film maker and your Doctor, please.

    Sending much, much Love to you...

    PS. Is it wrong that I purposely wait to comment so that I can come back to read all the other comments?
    PPS. And yes, you looked absolutely gorgeous even if it was a hellish day.

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  17. Sorry to hear about your day, except that you write it with such humour, it brightens my day. I am so looking forward to your future blogs about decorating. best wishes Ann

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  18. I really enjoy your thoughts and opinions. Will you be sharing some of your own spaces in your decor posts?

    Linda

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  19. Loved your column today and the way David got you to "culture". The pictures are lovely and I was glad I was able to share your day's adventure with you all.

    However, I want to take issue with one of your points. I can never understand the term "husband stealer"? A man cannot be "stolen" from his wife; he has free-will and has the ultimate decision to cheat on his wife and break his marriage vows. It's not the fault of the "other woman". Now, before you jump all over me, I was in such a situation, except I was the wife, the cheated-on one. I never blamed his girlfriend; it was my husband's choice to leave the marriage. I don't care if the other woman was the most desirable woman in the world, it was my husband who cheated. He very well could have said "no".

    By blaming the "other woman", you're taking any responsibility from the husband who did the cheating. Please rethink your view on the subject to at least properly blame the one who broke HIS marriage vows. (My story has a nice ending; my ex and I are very good friends and successfully co-raised two fine young men.)

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    1. I agree with you to completely. I hate both of them equally and blame both of them equally.

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  20. Ellie,
    In spite of all you were subjected to in just getting to the museum, you looked beautiful and effortlessly chic! The museum looks fabulous, too, and I'm looking forward to reading about the saga of it's construction. As an interior designer, I love the "gut to the studs" renovation phase of a project as much as the decorating portion that comes later. (And all the behind the scenes drama that frequently goes with it...)
    Can't wait to read your next series of posts on decorating! I suspect my personal style is more minimal than yours. However, since I find I'm almost always on the same page with you on everything you write about, I'm sure I'll be agreeing with you on what you think makes a beautiful and welcoming home.

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  21. I know that Sunday was a tough day for you..........but my heart has been giggling reading of your exploits. Can't wait for the decorating stuff. I love Picasso.... xoxo Mary

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  22. Delightful as always. Of course you look so chic in that coat and your makeup or nonmakeup look is perfect. I thought you might get a kick out of my blog about trying to find Picasso to film the movie Picasso Summer. You're heard of Where's Waldo well this is my story of my first trip to Paris and trying to find Picasso to film with him. Enjoy. http://www.apartfrommyart.com/picasso-summer-making-the-movie/ BTW, anything you want to write about will be superb. So go for it.

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    1. Dear Sandra, I would have written back to your earlier but I was busy emailing all of my friends to tell them they have been replaced… By you. You are quite a remarkable woman! I just read your story about Picasso and it quite literally made by day. Every inch of your adventure! I think I might have had dinner at Yvette Mimieux's house once in Los Angeles when I was in my 20s. She was friends with my father's friend, Chuck Barris, who lived in St. Tropez. Your paintings are remarkable as well. I'm going to go back to read the story about your mother. Attention all my blog followers… Go to Sandra's blog! Thank you so much for sharing your story. I know about that restaurant in the South of France, Columbe D'or, from my friend Prosper Assouline, who wrote a book about it. XOXO

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    2. I am still reeling from reading that incredibly delightful story...amazing, actually.

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  23. You look really fabulous!
    No one would know that you had inept "helpers"
    If I had to rely on my husband for hair and make up I'd be really in trouble.
    Like Janet's my arts and crafts entry is very small and pillars define it but basically you enter right into the living room space...look forward to your decorating post and I too LOVE Pinterest!

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  24. You do look fab. I'm thrilled we're talking about decorating! In days past when I got my monthly copies of House Beautiful and Elle Decor, I'd want to kiss the mailman, and then I'd throw a bag of chips at my kids and shut myself in my room. Foyers! Staircases! I can't wait until we get to bathrooms!

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  25. " We are both so sick of being sick and would do anything to get our lives back. "

    This. I really enjoy reading your rants, witticisms, and critiques. But this?
    I started to write that this sentence was heartbreaking, but that's simply lacking.

    There are no words.

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  26. Love your coat, hat, got one like it, mine has a fur ball on top, and YES, your hair is getting longer LOVE it, hugs and kisses Suzanna

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  27. Love your blog, Ellie! I so look forward to reading it when I get home after a long, frustrating day at work. ( I go back and read some older ones if you haven't posted a new one.) Thanks for starting on some decorating ones. The recipe and food ones have been great - oh, alright,
    they are all great! Take care and keep warm!

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  28. Oh my heart!!! Decorating!!! I am on the edge of my chair!!!!!

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  29. Ellie, i have been reading your blog ...maybe 2 hours now...( its midnight here in Garmisch Partenkichen, Germany... kids are sleeping..thank god :)) and i have to say...I chose to comment on this particular post because the way you chose your words and explained your horrible day and how funny you were ... I literally peed my pants!! Thank you so much for doing this blog..on good days and bad days...Thank You!! Sending you all the love and good energy your way!!

    Samantha

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