How to bathe an elephant:
Grill Master:
Being cute is exhausting:
Did you need me? Cause I'm kinda busy in here...
Shake it off:
Did I mention we're on Weight Watchers?
I'm having an affair with my camera. Here we are making out in a hotel lobby bathroom:
Red bow...after the purple bow...after the green bow...
I don't know Katherine Wolf, but her story has touched me. She and I have the whole Samford and ZTA thing in common so maybe that's what got me. Or it could be that she is close to the same age as my niece who has a 6 month old, too. Maybe it's because she's stunningly beautiful and when I saw her photograph I was mesmerized by her smile. Whatever the reason, she and her husband, Jason, and their baby, James, are weighing heavy on my mind. They live in Malibu where Jason was all set to finish law school at Pepperdine until Katherine suffered a brain hemorrhage on April 21st...she just collapsed. And the nightmare began. She then underwent a 13 hour surgery at the UCLA Medical Center, and is recovering although the doctors originally didn't offer much hope.
You can get updates on Katherine here. Her father-in-law, Jay Wolf, is the pastor at First Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, and he writes most of the blog entries with very specific prayer requests for Katherine. My impression of Jay is that he is just as bewildered about her suffering as the rest of us. I've been moved by his thoughts and prayers, and have a tremendous amount of respect for him and the fact that he hasn't gone on and on about how there is a greater purpose or greater reason this has happened to such a precious little family. It happened and they are dealing with it. Dealing with it the best way they know how - with prayer and a whole lot of love and support from the people whose lives he has obviously touched along the way.
Jay and the rest of Katherine's family believe God can and will heal this woman, and their faith is amazing to witness. Katherine even has a prayer beeper that you can call to indicate you are praying for her. Details about the beeper are here. I hope you will join me in praying for Katherine and her family.
Several of you have asked me to further explain Twitter. And I'm sorry, but I cannot explain it. Maybe I'm just too close to it, but I think most of the fun of something like Twitter is the figuring it out.
But I did find this article that expalins it. Explains it very well. Thank me later.
read more | digg story
Actual quotes from an actual policy and procedure manual that actually exists and is actually being re-written. Im re-writing it. Actually, I may throw myself under a bus before I finish...
Did I mention this is actual stuff? I couldn't make up something this good.
Since fashion and mode of dress change continually, it is natural that employees may want to change their style of dress to meet the custom of the times. Employees are requested to dress in good taste and in a non-controversial manner.
The only form of discrimination tolerated here is performance discrimination. Those that perform well will be rewarded: those that don't perform will not.
Conversations are to be done on break not on the sales floor or in the storage or receiving areas. Management wants to be reasonable relative to employee interaction -- however, there is simply no room for constant chit-chat in our organization, and all employees should refrain from "over doing" it. If too much conversation exists, management may be subject to frowning on any conversation other than job-related issues.
Personal reading is not permitted on the sales floor under any circumstances. Personal reading materials should not be in any work area.
The day of beauty was enjoyed by all on Friday. And it seems, for now, that Cowboy has decided against amputating his own left hind leg. He is still, however, trying to chew off his front right foot.
And Clover's just over the top about her polka dot bow. Looks like scrapbook ribbon! She has food residue on her beard because I had to give her a treat to make her pose for the photo. She's busy like that...things to do, people to see, brothers to torture...
I started following folks on twitter a long time ago after happening upon the twitter site by complete accident one day. At that time there weren't many people to follow, but the ones I found were pretty funny. Then dooce started posting to twitter and wrote about it on her blog, and I started reading about it more and more places, and more and more people started posting updates. And well, let me just tell you the truth - I had to give up twitter for a long while. I mean, I'm all about wasting some time, but I can only waste so many hours on one venue and twitter was starting to cut into my blog reading time which had already cut into my scrapbooking time which had already cut into my sleeping time. And when was I supposed to read a book? (God, I'm so glad there was no Internet when I was a child. I would have never even made it to the 7th grade.) So I recently fell off the wagon and started back up my steamy affair with twitter. Only this time I am updating as well as following...and our relationship is gonna work this time. (See, it's a win-win partnership this time around. I am participating more fully in hopes of getting more in return.) I have no idea why anyone would want to know what I am doing at any given moment, but if you do want to follow me - come on. See my sidebar to click through to twitter and set up an account. I will warn you, though, it's like crack for the nerd girl.
I know. I know you have heard the story. But I have to tell you this part. You may not know this part. (Unless you are PJ and hear me bitch about it at least three times a week.) My Starbucks order has never changed. I order the same thing every single time. The baristas see me coming and start making it. However I decided over the last few times I have been there to record what I have paid for the very same drink each time. Seriously. Same order every single time.
Monday, April 21st = $2.76
Wednesday, April 23rd = $4.16
Friday, April 25th = $1.68 (Apparently I was living right this day.)
Monday, April 28th = $3.11
And no, I haven't said anything about it. They already hate me and I just want to get my coffee and go. I figure it will all even out at some point.
Hey - remember this? And since Noele doesn't have a blog, she signed up for the "Random Act of Kindness" option. And she delivered. Here's what she did to Margie's desk while Margie and I were at lunch Friday. Cute and sweet...and Vera Bradley! It will be hard to top that.
And winners, I do realize I haven't done my part yet, but you do remember I have a year in which to get this done? Right? That means I will be busting my ass come January 15th. But, hey, I love a challenge.
There were lots of opportunities for sharing and for baring your soul at the Event last weekend. I'm not sure why I decided to answer Monique's question about what you would do if you had all the money in the world and no fear of failing the way I did, but I was completely serious. I would open a car wash. And not because I like to wash cars. But because of childhood memories...it's not important now to explain this story, but I will say that I felt a little petty and self absorbed when all of the other emotional women started talking about how they would cure breast cancer and feed the hungry. Oh. That. I would do that, too. But I would open my car wash first. And don't you think breast cancer would already be cured if all the money in the world would fix it?
Along those same lines - my car is GROSS today. I think I will get it washed this weekend. "Gross" is a relative term. If you have children, your car is much more gross than mine. Get it washed. And vacuumed.
So it occurred to me a few days ago that my shoulder and neck have been hurting for weeks. I mean, I know I have been hurting, but I've just been popping Tylenol and moving on. Well, someone has now freaked me out about the amount of Tylenol I take and lately the pain is getting worse and worse. (I'm setting up a story here - not listing maladies...when I start listing maladies in every blog entry just go ahead and kill me.) In order to see a specialist, I knew I would need a referral and I also knew I wouldn't have time to go to the GP just for that. I don't even really have a GP. What to do? Well, I saw my allergist earlier in the week and cleverly posed the question, "What kind of doctor do you see when your shoulder hurts so bad you want to throw up?" She wrote me a referral. I'm clever that way.
I found a specialist yesterday, but the soonest he can see me is May 13th. How crazy is that? Anyway, I had to stay on the phone forever with the receptionist to give her all of my contact, insurance and personal information just to set up the appointment. Near the end of our conversation she said, "Now, are you an athlete?" (Insert hysterical laughter from me at this point.) "No," I replied, "I am a scrapbooker."
I wonder if they would have seen me sooner if I had answered that question differently? I guess I'm really not so clever after all.
