Refinding Hidden Treasures... in Little Boxes and in the Seat Just Next to You

I love saving my best fortune cookies. A few weeks ago, I ran across a stash in a special little box that I've had for what seems like forever. (Once upon a time, an Eddie Bauer watch came in this little wooden box. The battery's dead in the watch now, but the box is always on my desk.) I had put them in there in preparation for moving from PA to GA... so they wouldn't get lost. The first one's from way back... maybe some Chapel Hill take-out. The 2nd was State College delivery. And it is "laminated" (with scotch tape... hey, you use what you can find) so that I could "post" it on my computer monitor at the COR. It was there for years. I looked at it every day. Not sure I ever stopped to glance next to me, though.



Anyway, I know I'm not the only one who values valuable fortunes. The PostSecret folks do too. Here are a couple I've grabbed from the weekly post over the last year or so:

The Importance of Commas... and Their Placement

There is nothing quite as satisfying as a job, well, done. Okay, it's better to have a job well done with no commas; but sometimes it's perfectly adequate to insert the pressure's-off-and-it's-with-someone-else-now commas into that phrase. However, should one actually say to one's boss "Do not expect me to be up & at 'em anywhere near 8 am tomorrow because I worked all freakin' night tonight"? I didn't think so; so that's why I didn't say it. But it's the truth. So, there.

All three ultra-large items on my to-do checklist from today: check, check, and check.

Feeling Whirly, Are Ye, Bobby Long?

I'm such a sucker for sweet little movies that most people would hate. They're, well, sweet... and they give you much lyrical & musical material for which to search.

Instead of working tonight (which I should've been doing... you know, to earn more of that salary they pay me every couple o' weeks), I ended up watching two movies I had TiVo'd. (Dad, you are sooo going to have to get the HD DVR package. It's great for capturing all kinds of movies to watch at your own pace... or leisure.) These were the first two I'd watched on TiVo in a while; but the 3rd in 3 days. Jon & I (after much complaining about being bored on my part) went to see Pirates 3 on Sunday night. It was long, but pretty great. Especially in comparison to Spidey 3, it rocked.

So, I was at the pool on Sunday (I've missed the last two days, my tan's fading already) and overheard this little girl telling a fellow wader in the kiddie pool how old she is. Of course, it was typical cutie-pie little kid fashion... 5... and a half. That got me thinking... and counting... oh geez, I'm 30... and a half. That's almost worse than just being 30. And, then again, almost better. I'm actually 30 and a half plus one month (I'll be celebrating that monthiversary on Friday), but who's really counting?!

Finally, for Brad... who's actually closer to 30 and a half than I am (but only by a few days) and whose link to the ROFLMAO video made me ROFLMAO... well, not really, but it was pretty funny. I'm sure you've already seen it since it's made the rounds of all the popular blogs, but just in case:

There Are Some Memories That, When Remembered, Just Make You Laugh Out Loud

Do you recognize this person? Any idea what might've been going on here? It's crystal clear to me, but I lived it after all. I can't wait to post the clearer version of this on the 2nd subject's (yes, there are two people in the photo) myspace page.


I've started playing in pictures again. I neglected to mention it here when I actually finished the project on the big computer... mostly because I felt like I'd talked about it enough. But it was quite the accomplishment for me. And now, I'm cropping and saving individual prints from groups of four that were scanned in over the course of the last few years to this laptop. Anyway, the work is stretching out. I don't get a lot accomplished before I tire of the project and move on to something else (ADD much?). But the last few nights, I've tried to get a few files cleaned out per night. Here are a few notables from the first folder of random "to be filed" pictures. It is amazing that, even though my memory fails me on so many things, I can look back at a photograph and remember everything. In some cases, that is... others, not so much.

These are from the two-event day when I rear-ended the Mercedes, aren't they??? How many of you were with me to face that old man? Anyone? Anyone?

And you can't beat Gerta doing the YMCA:

That Darn Chrome Microphone.. Who Gave This Thing To ME?

Erica --
Where is it written that we are meant to be understood in this world, except perhaps by a few close friends? Where is it written that true interpretation of our characters is our birthright? If we can count even half a dozen people who love and understand us, then we are truly blessed.

I didn't plan to write about this tonight. I seriously didn't (no matter what you might think, J... no matter how convenient). I'm laying here, thinking about getting a semi-early start on the night's sleep, and I'm thinking about how I've really not thought of anything to write about today. I usually at least try to think at some point during the day about what I can possibly wax poetic (or unpoetic, as the case may be) about that night. I know, you wouldn't know it by the topics I actually choose... but I do try to come up with something semi-interesting as a jumping off spot. Tonight, as I climbed down the stairs toward bedtime, I could not remember anything I had even considered writing about. So, I'm brushing my teeth, racking my brain for something/anything, and I consider maybe using a quote from a book. And then I remembered... there was a quote I had dog-eared in my current Erica novel. I did not, however, remember what it was about. I picked it up, started thumbing through, and the words I took down above spoke to me.

I feel like I wander through a lot of life being disconnected from others... missing connections here or there... not understanding others' priorities... not being understood myself... never being able to grasp what others are asking of me... feeling completely unprepared and incapable of completing said requested task... etc. I mean, I get it, in theory; but the everyday application of that theory is something else entirely. The basics of people's motivation are relatively simple, right? But when your "self" is not fully understood (or felt -- as in, I feel you, dawg) by my "self", where does that leave us? Not so simple at all when you factor in the individual and the idea (which, on the positive side makes us feel unique, but on the negative side makes us feel isolated) that we're all simply different. (I guess it's possible for someone to fit better than others, to have more than a few people who really get him, to feel completely connected to just about everyone in his life. Of course, when pressed, I'm sure that even that guy could come up with at least one person in his life who just doesn't fit... who just doesn't get him... whom he just doesn't get.) But when we do find those "half a dozen" folks out there who we feel that connection with, what do we do with them?

This is frustrating... I feel like I'm writing around my point, and I'm really not sure why. I guess I just don't understand it myself (which is kind of the point in and of itself, so... go figure?). Anyway, the people who get you... those who really know you... are important. Without them, it is a lonely lonely lonely existence, is it not? Should those relationships stop you from branching out into other relationships? Of course not. (Silver and gold, right Haley?) But can they -- or rather, should they -- be replaced or reprioritized? Well, maybe. Of course, that is, as Bobby (or Britney) would say, your prerogative. I just think that the act of cutting those who know you best out of your, say, top four, is difficult... especially given that the true blessing comes from, as Erica tells us, the half a dozen or so who love and understand us.

Now, the flip side of that, of course (because I can't just leave it... and maybe I should, but I can't), is that without giving those you may think don't get you a chance to climb into your newly redefined group of "favorite people", you will never know if yet another blessing might come from them too.

This Lap Dance is Not Free

While attempting to mow the lawn this evening, I kept getting interrupted by neighborly conversations. First, Lynn came over to tell me all about her two kids (it's kinda the same situation as my two "kids"... but we won't go into details). We chatted about nothing in particular for quite a while, and Brian came by on his new toy (a four-wheeler) and ended up stopping to chat himself for a while. The best question of the evening: Brian asked, "Do you guys mind if I let my grass die?" I'm like... well, yeah kinda. I mean, I'm spending a lot of time and money (freakin' astronomical water bills!!... although, our $133 doesn't compare to Lynn's $230... and Brian didn't blink at that number, so I'm sure his is about that high too) to maintain our lawn. Is it my fault that you have a milliion acres in your lot??? But, seriously, it is DRY as a bone here. Eve and I sat out at the pool today underneath several quite forboding clouds (we even braved a smattering of raindrops) to try to coax the good shower out of 'em. But they weren't having it. Instead, the hot hot hot sun came back out, and by this evening (back to mowing the lawn), it wasn't even partly cloudy anymore.

Anyway, I was listening to my Top Rated playlist again while I mowed. Lots 'o good songs on that bad boy.

OK... off to watch the Real World Reunion. I love reality TV. Two strangers, picked to live in a house... oh wait, it's seven. Right. I forgot.

Your Bangs are Writing Checks

I admit it, I'm addicted to my RSS feeds. And I have replaced my unseemly US Weekly regular mag-read with daily feed-reads of the Jezebel, Go Fug Yourself, PopSugar, and The Superficial ilk. I can't help it. I know I contribute to the problem (the problem being rabid paparazzi, if you truly consider that a problem... which I do... mainly because I've seen the Britney and Lindsay Lohan videos where they are accosted and nearly kill themselves and others lunging for the elusive escape hatch... think poor sitting-duck Goose in Top Gun... although, I'm not sure why that image came to my mind just now... probably b/c everything always comes back to a Top Gun quote (or back to me, as the case may be)... or because I just read a really funny "your bangs are writing checks your forehead can't cash" line in today's Fug) because I consume their product, but it's my sinfully delicious guilty pleasure. And... reading the newest addition (Jezebel, a brand spanking new blog just added to the blogosphere this week) also gave me the opportunity to view (and share) this laugh out loud funny and quite possibly-not-suitable-for-wherever-you're-reading-this YouTube vid. It's nothing bad... just potentially a little uncomfortable for some. The blog post on Jezebel (with a link to the vid): http://jezebel.com/gossip/modern-torture/how-to-get-waxed-262375.php.

Why is it that when I fully intend to go to bed early and get a good night's sleep, I end up reading RSS feeds, battling the most temperamental router in the world, and thinking what-should-I-write for hours?! Ugh. Going to bed now... don't care that this was ultra-short and said nothing (save for the ultra-enjoyable waxing info). Maybe I'll give you my three minutes of pissy tomorrow. Maybe not. Meanwhile... happy Wednesday.

Of the Two, I Choose...

If you were to glance at my two geraniums (is that the correct plural? perhaps it should be gerania), you might think, "Well, those are nice enough." But upon a closer look, we find the two halves of what makes a nice geranium split between the two pots.


On one hand, there's the geranium with the pretty red blooms. There must be 10 blooms on that bad boy. And they're nice blooms too. Not those about-ready-to-fall-off pitiful excuses for red flowers that the other guy has. What makes this geranium unique? Well, the only difference in the two is the amount of water he's had. This poor guy had the luck (unluck... or maybe disluck, as it were) to be positioned underneath the corner of the house during a rainstorm. And without gutters (which Jon is very disappointed we don't have), the water pours off the house right there. So, the waterfall made its base inside the pot of this geranium. I've been pouring standing water out of it for days. And there always seems to be more. But... the blooms are beautiful. The rest of the plant, not so much.


Then on the other side of the coin (or the entryway, as the case may be), there's this guy. All of his blooms fell off (like, seriously, ALL of them), but his leaves are this beautiful deep green... and much healthier-looking than the other plant's leaves. Plus, there are tons of them (leaves, that is); as opposed to the nearly non-existent foliage on the other guy.



Now, someone please tell me... they get the same amount of sunlight, one has had this big huge dose of water that won't go away (and is more than likely drowning it) while the other gets regular keep-the-dirt-wet drinks... how can one possibly raise a good-leaves AND good-blooms geranium? I need my Granny and Me-maw to come help me with my thumb coloring. The black is obviously not working so well for me.

Thus ends another no-worries-here post. You know, I wonder if you truly want to hear anything that's not rose-colored. I'm not up to writing it, so the point is moot, but I just wonder. Anyway, here's something that I find interesting. For the last couple of weeks... well, maybe just one week... when I wake up, I cannot for the life of me remember what day it is. I am truly, truly baffled as to whether it's a workday or a weekend (and often need someone to clue me in). It's quite disconcerting, actually. I've always just been able to know upon waking what, in the most general of generals (Lord knows I would never plan the specifics!), the day holds. These days, I'm starting with an absolute blank slate. And I do not like it. Perhaps it's time to breathe, look around, and reflect on life. If only... if only... if only... to simply remember what day it is when I wake up in the morning.

Can We Bring the "Old Pair of Pliers" Along?

I have a thing for radio station contests. I love winning them. All two I've won. Skipped the Raleigh-based opening of Blast From the Past. But, Weird Al Weekend, here we come. Thanks Z102!

See? I Told You It Was A Lizard!

Just a little reminder for later of what I was doing at 3:45 this afternoon. WHAT?! It's not okay that I was sitting outside enjoying the sunshine in the middle of the workday?

Maybe not... since I was scared out of my spot on the front porch by this little guy as he ran out from under the bush (where Coop & Kona were attempting to eat him) and up the wall to where he was safely out of reach. He timed it perfectly, by the way. Coop & Kona kept sniffing around that bush for the rest of their time outside. They didn't even notice when he darted away.

When You're Feeling in a Fickle

A little something something for your mantle: I Got Clocked. Just thought you might like to check it out, you know, in case you need a clock.

So, I know someone with a birthday coming up... and SOON! Yeah, him too, but I was actually thinking of this little guy (thanks for sharing the pics, Z & Daddio):

A Quick Hello... Because I Abhor the Alternative

I live in a world of tomorrows. I'll finish this tomorrow, I'll start that tomorrow, I'll think about whatever tomorrow and possibly do something about it the next tomorrow. Always with the stinking tomorrows. When does my lame wait-for-it self actually get up off its rump and get something done today? Amen?!

Note of explanation: I just watched two Tivo'd programs that made me sit upstairs and cry. It's not often something can make me cry anymore. But I really, really, really hate goodbyes (and the "process of absence", L, nail.head.you.). And both shows made me say goodbye. Boo. Hiss. Terrible programming on the networks these days. Actually, speaking of programming on the networks... CBS is cancelling Jericho and The Class. ABC dropped The Nine, Six Degrees, and What About Brian. NBC axed Studio 60. I hate tv. I really do. My television life is just all a big repeated session of The American Embassy debacle. Yes, I like popular shows... well, sometimes... although, I've got to say, I never watched Cheers or Frasier and Seinfeld was always an afterthought. But I seem to fall in love with the ones that aren't there for me season after season. Go figure.

Playing in More Pics, Listening to More Tunes

as the roses lift their heads to catch a glimpse of my demise
you'll be throwing lies around like ocean waves throw down the tides
and they are breaking on my shore
and the rescue team won't save me now I'm out too far
so I'll waste these nights for a while
but I'll be holding onto you forever
and this is where my heart is cold and torn
as I read the words you wrote last night
the butterflies are creeping through my spine

Better Subject Matter, I Hope

Once again, I am reminded (okay, usually on a daily basis, but I'm okay with that) that I am my mother's daughter. Tonight, Mom was telling me a story that she had meant to keep from Haley but ended up telling her anyway. She kind of chuckled and made a comment about it being funny that she intends not to tell but ends up telling anyway. Yes, I'm the same way. If I'm withholding some information from you, it's all I can think about while we're talking. And when I eventually tell you (it probably won't take long), I feel bad about not being able to hold my tongue any longer than I did. Of course, I don't feel bad for very long, though, for now we have something else to talk about!

But I really do like to share things. I enjoy talking to people. I like feeling a connection, and if that means sharing things with folks that I intended to keep to myself, well, so be it.

Meanwhile, Jon has got to be off somewhere reading this and laughing at me. He doesn't think I like to talk. In fact, quite the opposite. Maybe it's just that we mis-connect on subject matter. Plans. Lyrics. The past. Books. TV shows. Family. Travels. Feelings. Home. All good things.

Simply Fascinating

This One Makes Me Smile

For Haley

With A Cherry On Top

Why is it that some days you're at the "tip of your prime, the top of your tree"? And some days, you're squat. Today was a big squat day for me. Couldn't seem to get anything done at all. It got to the point where even Haley didn't want to talk to me anymore. Mainly (probably) because I was basically wasting her time. But some days, that's what happens.

So... BEST NEWS OF ALL, received yesterday... (Hope he doesn't mind me posting this doctored - all private info removed - copy. I just thought many of you would actually like to see documented proof!):

Isn't it beautiful?! I just don't know what else to say about that. It's... just... beautiful.

Who Needs Ya Anyway? I Have My Landscaping to Attend to!

My favorite outdoor (productive) activity lately is weeding. I know, that sounds strange. And no, Mom & Dad, I won't do the weeding at your house. Evidently, it only applies when the land is mine. So, I've taken to trying to be outside from a little after 5 (whenever I peel myself away from the computer screen) until it gets dark. I just love the warmth, the sunshine, and the homeowner feeling I get from actually doing outside work. I've been mowing the yard (haven't mowed it this week; I'm sure that activity is just around the corner again), watering the plants (and planting new ones), nursing the less-than-stellar ones back to life (hopefully), and weeding. Of all those things... well, except maybe mowing, but that's different somehow... weeding gives me the most immediate instant gratification. And yes, I like being redundant and repeating myself.

When you water a plant or change its dosage of sunlight or even feed it, it takes days, maybe weeks, to actually see if what you did made a difference. By this time, I know that impatiens do not like the SE Georgia afternoon/evening sun. Hydrangea don't love it, but they can take it as long as you keep 'em as much in the shade as possible and keep 'em wet. Geraniums, well, the jury's still out on them. The Lowe's tag says they'll do well in full sun; but I'm currently still holding a grudge against Lowe's tags, mostly for the impatiens debacle. Oh yeah, and that same Lowe's tag told me the daisies liked full sun too. They do much better inside with plate-glass-filtered sunlight. FYI. I even (somehow! ... miracle of miracles!) have the hibiscus plants coming back up. From nothing. Jon did his best to kill those things... even admits to intentionally TRYING to kill them when he "replanted" them for me... and the little devils are playing phoenix as we speak. Anyway, all this (and much more), I've learned over the course of several weeks/months of playing gardener. But you can't do anything to make a plant healthier or look better immediately... except remove the weeds that are making it messy.

It's back-breaking. I spent at least two hours stooped over tonight; and I grabbed & pulled untill my hand simply wouldn't close any more(I SWEAR the muscles just stopped gripping). I finished half of the back beds and the entirety of the front ones. (For some reason, I'm sure it has to do with the professional (read: expensive) work that went into the front beds while the back ones are my economical brain- (and back-) child, the front beds really don't grow a lot of weeds while the back ones are a weed hotbed!) And when I finish the rest of the back tomorrow, I'm going to love how it looks. I already love 3/4 of the landscaping around the house tonight. And nothing else I could've even attempted (short of replacing all the wimpy stuff with thriving shrubbery and/or spreading a few thousand bales of pinestraw) could've come close to improving the landscaping. Period.

Also... our neighbors are having their backyard sprinkler system put in, Dad. Mr. Shih (I'm going out on a limb and guessing how to spell it) still says he doesn't think they need it, but he says Mrs. Shih is insisting. I told her tonight... she's so right, it's not even funny.

Anyway, to illustrate my point about the back weed hotbed (and the one about how weeding makes 110% difference)...
Before:

After:

C'est Bête

There was a poem
An e-tome of sorts
Lost forever because of its audacity
Largely inappropriate for the selected medium.
Language, child. Language.

It told of me.
It captured me.
It was me.

Then I shared it
Damn you
You know me now
And I know nothing more.

Quimmy's girl is lost
But it's so clearly still her
Angrily caught in a filter
Of self-inflicted censorship.

New iTunes Rule... Don't Say My Taste is Eclectic Like it's a Bad Thing

In a discussion about music today, Jon & I agreed that I have the more "eclectic" of our two tastes. He asked me to play some tunes, I started my "My Top Rated" playlist thinking that would give us some more-than-decent background music for our dinner/working in the office. As I clicked forward through the first twenty or so songs that I knew I loved but would mean absolutely nothing to him, I chuckled. Lately, it seems that he always catches me in thoughts that make me chuckle by asking what, exactly, is so funny? Honestly, I sometimes don't want to share. But I usually try to... at least share something that truly would make me chuckle if not the exact thought that was running through my wacky half-brain. Shoot... I'm bringing myself to the words I wanted to copy & paste earlier than I wanted to copy & paste them. Remember this spot when you come to them later.

Anyway, I told him my chuckle-worthy thought... these are my songs. Okay, maybe you wouldn't chuckle at that, but I did (especially considering as how I got lots of laughs from our fight night crew last night by poking good-natured fun at Jon's contributions to the music collection... Britney's Email My Heart got the most laughs, by the way). So he said something about how I like lyrics and he just likes music. In fact, he said, if all music was without lyrics, that would be just fine with him. Except for the fact that NO! Oh yeah, and all of this happened just as I was stumbling into the collection from one of my faves. So, I went on to talk a little bit about how I think this particular lyricist is brilliant. His words speak to me. Okay, a lot of things speak to me, but him in particular. It's not often anything he writes doesn't carry some meaning for me. Jon scoffed. End of discussion. That's a typical interaction these days... especially with everything Jon's had on his plate. With the dissertation, grading, stupid test-taking scandals, etc. all going down, no reason to have a longer-than-five-minute discussion about something as silly as lyrics, right? Anyway, the point I was getting to (and remember to pay attention here for the reference to copy & paste from above) is that he posted another blog yesterday. Given that I love everything he writes, it's not surprising that yet another set of his words spoke to me. But I wanted to share them, regardless.

Today is for nothing else but to Be Here Now, and to interact honestly with our fellow amigos. Today is the reminder that there is no right or wrong, only we who make it so.

Or something really close to that. ;) Just a few words of wisdom from the man. Hope your Cinco de Mayo was fantabulous.

Of Course I Am

You Are a Daisy

You see the world with an artist's eye. Finding beauty is easy for you - even in the dullest of moments. You notice all of the colors of the world, from fresh grass to sunsets. You are a total optimist and hedonist. You love to drink life in.

What Flower Are You?

That Berta is Laugh Out Loud Funny

I know, Mom, and I'm sorry... but please allow yourself to crack a smile at the funny funny Berta made on Two and a Half Men:

Charlie: Berta, my hair is important to me.
Berta: Alright, don't get your panties in a bunch.
Charlie: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Berta: It means 'don't get so agitated that your undergarments become entangled within your crack'.

Nielsens, Meet the Nielsens

Ah, fun. I haven't been in my office all day... so I decided to come in here tonight to do a few things on the big computer. I'm gonna make myself a playlist in iTunes and play around with categorizing a few more pics. That is, if I can get my computer to wake up. Darn it. I hate having to kill a perfectly good computer just to get it to wake up.

So, it's official. Jon and I are a Nielsen family. They must've read my belly-aching about not ever asking me what I was watching. Well, starting today, I get to keep a diary of everything I watch. It's not as fun as I thought it would be. It's actually kind of a pain. I don't think I'll watch TV at all for the rest of the week just so I don't have to keep a diary of everything that catches our attention for 5 minutes. (That's the rule, by the way. If you stick on a program for 5 minutes, you're supposed to write it down. Luckily, I watch in bigger blocks of time, but still...)

Anyway, it's time again to clean out the old Pics folder. Let's see... I like to take pics of the sky, the sun, and clouds... especially from the pool. These last few days haven't been ideal; it's been a while since we saw blue sky through the wildfire smoke. But these were from a while back when we had some really beautiful days. What else? Granny & me on Dad's b-day at Greenfield. I ♥ my Granny, sweet little woman. This was the day before I let Juanita cut off all my locks. The pic of the big brother/little brother car siblings is from the same night. Mom commented as we were coming out of the restaurant that she couldn't tell which was hers. Can you tell the diff? If I get my way... eventually, maybe Mom & I will look even more alike. Although, I prefer the Chevrolet emblem on the front to the Pontiac one. Semantics... they're the same car. And finally, one for you to guess. It's (obviously) an extreme close-up of something I've kept handy for the last few weeks.

Treading Trodden Trails

Does it ever just hit you in the face that you're doing nothing new or interesting? My job is very cyclical. Every once in a while I get a fun little project that brings me joy for a second... then I think, well, that's not really new either. It seems to me that everything I think about, everything I do has all been thought or done before. Perhaps by me. Perhaps by someone else. There's truly nothing like reinventing the wheel. Every. single. day.

Hmm... maybe I'm frustrated today. I thought I was feeling all successful because I got so much of my to-do list checked off today. But I must be. Didn't really know it about myself. When I first heard those trails lyrics while sitting at the pool in the wildfire haze earlier (it wasn't as bad today as it was yesterday... which is why I went ahead and went to the pool), it wasn't with a frustrated, negative outlook. It was more introspection. But now, I've let too much time pass between first thinking about what to write tonight and actually writing tonight. Today has already become tomorrow, I'm a little irritated that I forgot to write before now (I really don't like my posts to go into the next day), and my eyes are bugging from looking at the computer screen (again) all night.

I've been recruited to help the Marketing team on another nomination process... because I did "such a GREAT job" with the Cannes one. Woohoo. Thanks. Oh, and thanks for stealing every creative aspect of the first process I created (with the help of Haley... see, that's how you create someone!) to include in the e-mail asking me to create this new process, copying your boss (one of the VIPs in the company), and making all of said creativity look like your ideas. LOVE THAT. Now there's only one way you can make it up to me, Marketing team. Take me to Cannes or lose me forever. (Like how I did that? Called Meg Ryan (whose cute little haircut was partial inspiration for my recent chop-chop) and Top Gun into your head while also making everything about me... and my desire to go to Cannes?! By the way, the real inspiration... if I haven't told you already... was Jenny McCarthy. Is that weird? I don't think so. She just looks so HAPPY lately... and her haircut is part of that, I think. So I stole it. But, OH LOOK, I just did it again... credited someone with their original work! It really can't be that hard since I just did it twice in one paragraph. All you would've had to do, FRIEND, was say "Heidi, we liked what you did with the Cannes thing so well that we're stealing/copying/imitating (whichever word you think is most appropriate there) it in this new process that we'd like you to help us with. And we want to send you to France for helping on both." Cool. It's settled.)

And Mom, thanks for the advice tonight... despite your puniness. Hope you feel better soon! I went ahead with the original plan and purchased the geraniums. I like 'em okay. We'll see how they hold up to the scorching afternoon sun at Forsythe. (Lord knows the impatiens sure as heck couldn't take it. They withered like there's no tomorrow every time that sun smacked them in the face.) Knowing how much I love them, I also couldn't pass up 3 of the little gerbera daisies tonight. (Hey, that's actually pretty good considering as how I was basically ready to buy one of everything... bluebells, bougainvillea, lily, gerbera daisy, geranium, mandevillea, hibiscus, etc.) I don't know why I originally decided to use these special daisies as my fave flower on one of those silly surveys, but ever since then, I've decided I was right. (Speaking of fave flowers, I remember that Becah's is magnolia blossoms... Personally, I hate the trees, love the blossoms. They're blooming right now in the Boro. LOVE those HUGE white fragrant blossoms. And speaking of daisies, I remember loving those simple yellow daisies in my blue vase at the senate. Oh man... Ken didn't enjoy... he wanted something fancier... but I loved my simple little daisies. That's me. Simple. Shallow (as in not deep), some might say.)

You think I was kidding about the impatiens? Take a gander for yourself. Wouldn't you think this plant was d.y.i.n.g??? But give it some aqua and put it in the shade, and the darn thing perks right back up. Maybe I should say it gets peart. Right Dad? ;)

Catching Up

When our Tijuana employees actually get back to work tomorrow and our HR Manager down there can respond to my questions... AND when I finish yet another SOX self-assessment tomorrow... I'll be CAUGHT UP!!! Well, I also have to finish sending all these "Congrats! You've Been Nominated To Go To Cannes!" notifications. And I'm kinda irritated about that. I wonder if anyone would notice if I slide about 20 nominations for myself in there?! Shoot... no one would even KNOW... seeing as how they basically turned the management of this whole program over to me! I think it's only fair that I get to go when I've produced the whole thing. Yes? No? Not so much? Yeah, I didn't think so either. But imagine the pool-lounging I could do in the South of France! Ahhh... what a wonderful thing to imagine. :)

And these employees who are receiving 2, 3, 4 nominations... seriously, BITE ME. ;) But it's great that we have so many employees whose colleagues are that impressed with them, huh?!

So, today in Statesboro... I do believe some smoke in the air caused an extra-stifling greenhouse effect. The smoke basically held incredibly hot air down here right over my house. The kiddies and I went for a bike ride about 3:30, and the wind made us hotter. How is that possible? It's hot & humid when the air's still. When the air moves, it feels about 20 degrees warmer. I'm not complaining, though. I love the heat. But I will complain about the smoke. What in the world? Smoke stinks.

Umm... not much else going on. I am giving up fast food this week. Don't get too excited... it's just for the week. But I figure if I can do it with DC for 40 days and 40 nights, I can give up a few lunches from Sonic and McD's and Zaxby's and Wendy's and Chik-fil-A and Hardee's and KFC and all those other besties who are bad for me. You know I'll be back in, like, no time... but we'll see how I feel once a few days are under my belt. I'm sure tomorrow night I'll be writing an ode to the chicken sandwich. Why am I so weak?!

Finally, in other news, Jon's four years at U of O are now completely paid for. How exciting is that?!?! We're very proud. Yay us!

So, question. How do you spell 'yay'? Should I just say "yeah" and be done with it since I know how to spell that one?! I like the word 'yay'... say it quite often actually. And I've switched between multiple spellings over the course of the last few years. And I want to know what's really correct. What do you think?

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

Oops... I totally forgot to write anything tonight. My excuse... as always, work. Just finished one of those biggie projects that I should've been working on all along. But my deadline is tomorrow, so technically, I'm early. :)

The weather today was beautiful. 90 by 9:00 am, I do believe. Pool at 4:20. Cannot pass on the hour at the pool. Then the kiddies and I went to the lake. Very eventful day. I write in weird choppy sentences. Anyway... from my pool time... I was listening to my Top Rated playlist and heard the following. Apply or explain:

Don't ask me for the truth if you choose to lie, honey.
And don't try to open my door with your skeleton key.
Some folks seem to think I only got one problem.
I can't find nobody as crazy as me.

I think I know plenty of peeps who're crazy as me.