I met Ellen when we were in second grade in Mrs. Marson's class in Southboro, Massachusetts. Out of the whole second grade class, Ellen had the best stuffed animal collection. Not only did she have the most stuffed animals, but they had the most interesting names -- from her giant Zebra named Monaco to her giant pillow-sized fluffy red Main Lobster named Bisque. Ellen also had the best sticker collection.

Ellen and I became close friends during our sophomore year in high school. Due to her birthday being in October, Ellen was one of the youngest people in our class. This annoyed her more than you can imagine, and she would loudly and vocally lament, "I am *never* gonna get my license!!!" at any opportunity.

Luckily, Jeff Dunlap (who is also here tonight) and I were two of the oldest in the class, so we got our licenses at the end of sophomore year. Ellen, Jeff, and I went to so many concerts together that year -- from the B52s and the Cure to The Pixies and U2 -- we saw all of our favorite bands.

Eventually, Ellen *did* get her license and one of her family members gave her a big white Buick. We went everywhere in that car while listening to mix tapes with songs by The Smiths and The Cure. Well, mostly we went to Houlihan's or Pizzaria Uno or the suburban-sprawl of Natick Mall. Sometimes we went to Harvard Square in Cambridge where we ate sweet cheese croissants and drank cappuccinos at Au Bon Pain. We felt like we were soooo sophisticated.

By junior year in high school, we were taking weekend trips to Cape Cod and up to Montreal for... ummmm... skiing. I'm certain that we behaved well on these trips across the Canadian border and that we didn't drink any drinks with flaming Sambuca. Or if we did at least we knew enough to blow out the flames on the Sambuca and not burn our eyelashes and upper lip as some of our other classmates might have. Not that I'd ever name any names...

Ellen was always the one in our class who would have issues of "Cosmo" magazine tucked into her bookbag that she would pass around on the bus. These contained saucy articles instructing us on how to kiss and what to look for in a man. Ellen had read so many of these articles that she was our resident expert. I would always go to her for advice on dating, clothing, and fashion.

Anytime you went *anywhere* with Ellen -- even to CVS or Walgreen's -- she was bound to crack everyone up. She has an incredible sense of humor.

Not only is Ellen funny, but she's intelligent and witty. We would collaborate on articles together for our high school newspaper -- The Harbinger -- and I've never laughed so hard writing anyone else with anyone to this day.

Ellen also knows how to party. While I was at Vassar in New York, and she was at Kenyon College (in Ohio!), Ellen drove out for a few days to visit me, and she brought a funnel. Now, my friends at Vassar and I had never seen a funnel before. Ellen patiently explained about the funnel and showed us how to pour beer into it. She didn't even laugh (too hard) when most of us (me especially) were unable to swallow even one beer with the assistance/insistence of said funnel. That night Ellen drank all my friends under the table -- even the guys -- and she didn't even throw-up.

So, Ellen is a connoisseur of fine stuffed animals and stickers, and a smart, stylish, funny, witty and cultured gal. A smart, stylish, witty and cultured gal who can drink all of us under the table without batting an eyelash.

I met Jarrod in 2002 when he and Ellen came out to visit San Francisco and stayed with me for a few days. What was great about meeting Jarrod was -- not only was he a cute, smart guy -- but he appreciated Ellen for all the right reasons: her intelligence, her wit, her scathing sense of humor, and her fondness for animals -- both plush and alive -- and her ability to drink Irish Car Bombs and funnel beers without getting sloppy drunk. So, now I'd like to ask you to raise your glasses and toast with me to Ellen and Jarrod and the great love that they have found. I wish them much happiness together!