One crazy newlywed gal in the Nashville area, taking life a day at a time, setting up home on a budget, finding beauty in the ordinary, seeking joy in the small things, and following Christ as best I can.
I told the gang at Aaron's over Memorial Day weekend that Swimmy had been my favorite children's book when I was growing up. I attributed this work of genius to Eric Carle. I was mistaken. It was the artistic triumph of Leo Lionni. And the world is a better place for it.
Thanks, Leo!
(and thanks to Random House for the borrowed image.)
MJ and I needed some time off from life, and thought Nashville's Centennial Park would be the ideal place to throw out a blanket, sit quietly, and read or journal in the sunshine.
The first thing we had to do was find some Bubble Tea. MJ hadn't had any since she lived in Chicago, and was craving some. I just happened to remember Fat Straw in West End at the new Edgehill Village. We got some, she loved it; I didn't. But perhaps Passionfruit smoothies are not my style.
So then, off to Centennial Park ... except when we arrived, there was some sort of event with tents and lots of people and news crews. Tents with rainbows of balloons.
I looked at MJ and said, "I hope you don't mind if we don't stop in and set up the blanket today."
We went to Long Hunter State Park, instead, and sat out by the lake.
My parents tried, but they didn't make it all the way up to Massachusettes before she passed.
The world today doesn't prepare us for this kind of thing. The grass on the grave site has not yet grown back where she will be buried next to my grandfather.
One month, 3 days later. An empty house. Our family grieves in double.
MJ reminded me about Psalm 23 today, and it is amazing how a passage I have known my entire life--one that is traditionally associated with comfort during times of mourning--is still as relevant to me today as it was relevant to David thousands of years ago.
I don't wish to sound morbid, but the nature of death and loss has been indelibly imprinted in my thoughts lately. We buried my grandfather two weeks ago. And now, his wife is slowing slipping away, as well.
When I found out the severity of the situation, I called to speak to my grandmother today. My aunt answered the phone and held the phone to my grandmother's ear, so she could hear me. I told her I loved her. I told her I was doing well and shared a bit about my life. I told her I loved her again. She heard me, and had responded in little raspy-breathed moans to what I said, but I could not understand a single word. When my aunt took the phone away from her ear and spoke to me, she began to cry. My heart was heavy. But yet, tears did not come to me until after I had hung up. I don't know why I respond to sorrow with numbness. I don't want to. But then the tears hit me when I least expect them to. A sudden feeling of awareness stops me in place, and if I move or speak, or acknowledge that feeling, I begin to weep.
I wept Sunday night while at Aaron's. We were singing "It is Well With My Soul," and I could not bear to sing the words. I couldn't stop thinking about my Dad and how it is his favorite song. I couldn't bear to think about the pain he is going through, watching my Mom struggle with inoperable cancer. I couldn't bear to think about how that song, the song we used to sing as a trio--me, Mom, and Dad--as a special during church services, is now a song that can describe our family's fears and sorrows and pains.
I'm crying now, as I type this. I've never felt so vulnerable, and scared, and confused as I do this year. So much has happened.
I may well be attending my grandmother's funeral in the week to come. Hospice has come to help her, and she is barely able to breath. It hurts to hear her in this condition. I think back to the stories she told of her childhood ... of running freely through the woods like a wild child and playing impish pranks. I think of tales of her teaching my mother as a child how to can corn or pick raspberries. I think of her as a young grandmother, watching my brothers and I and teaching us how to blow large, rainbow-colored dish detergent bubbles that shifted and bulged and danced across the open air above the freshly mowed lawn while my grandfather tended his garden and pulled out fresh carrots to be watered down by the green hose so we could eat them. I think of her as frail elderly woman, still as opinionated and cantankerous as ever, telling us how to eat healthy and speaking out against errant grandchildren's crazy grown-up ways. I think of her grief-stricken face as she mourned the loss of her husband while clasping the folded flag given to her in his honor by the humble American Legion representative as the wind blew a storm in.
I love you, Grandma. And I'm going to miss you.
Dear God ... please get us through this valley. I can't see the way through these tears.
I broke away from life for a weekend and went with MJ, RachelBaby, Ali, and John (who doesn't exist online yet) to visit Aaron of Pursuing Pineapple fame in the natural state of Arkansas.
And oh, what fun we had! It was a weekend of quotes, board games, cooking, movies, and Sing-Alongs-With-Aaron time.
For four whole days, I was able to take the focus off of my own life and just chill with good friends. It was a welcome break from work stress (two people from my team quit, leaving me the only one who knows what's going on with a big new project).
I'll write more later, once we decide how to get our planned "Round Robin" blog up and running, but until then I have just a few things left to say:
"It's Good!" "Benny and the Jets." And ... "Yes! Respect for Self!" or "Tastes Like Liberty!"
I've found that the more I experience, the less I write about it. The less that words, my old, dear friends, seem capable of painting the portrait of the moment.
In my mind, it all gets jumbled, until a moment of clarity shines through like a beam of light through a dusty window in an abandoned farm house.
Suddenly, all is clear.
These sunbeams are all too rare in my life these days. I need to open the window and let the ambient light in.
There is so much going on that I don't even know how to write about it. So many things flying through my mind. So many things unsettling my heart. So many wishes and dreams and goals that seem to have stalled in the air.
I just want to get it over with, pick up my things, and plunge forward into the great unknown. Change is good. Change gets your mind off things.
But why can't I just have a good solid crying session and get it all out? I'm such a weird emotional person. I feel intensely, but I can't express it at all the right way. It gets all muddled and confused and tucked into corners of my mind that refuse to let go.
Life certainly has a way of smashing you in the face and then leaving you with a million questions afterwards. It stresses you, hurts you, frightens you, saddens you, encourages you, supports you, confuses you, and surprises you.
I have tried to write this post several times now. And yet, it hasn't gotten any easier to type or think through.
At the point where my own life has started to grow and bloom, I am being faced with the fragility of life in the face of my mother's stage 4 cancer and now, my grandfather's imminent death.
How is it that joy and excitement and hope and laughter can sit side-by-side with regret and sorrow and mourning? Or that bills and budgets and grocery store lists must continue to be attended to while dreams or fears or uncertainties take over my mind.
But life ... my life ... goes on. And, as I look back over the past four years, and especially the past six months or so, I find that I have changed, even as I think I am not changing. I have changed. It is almost surreal. But no, it is very, very real.
Am I tender? Am I willing to be shaped and molded by Christ? Am I willing to be pruned, guided, watered, checked and balanced?
I was pondering this as I sat in Panera working on my report this afternoon. I overheard a mix of conversations over the hours I spent at my table, typing away. Some people were annoying and loud; some were quiet and sweet; some were gregarious and pleasant; some were self-absorbed and important. I could hear it in their voices. I could see in their faces.
What could they see in mine? Would they see a tender heart surrounded by a woman of character?
So, the roommate and I have a new tradition: IHOP on the weekends. Late. Really late. Like, when she gets off work late. (That would be 11pm.)
Do you know what amazing things you can find at IHOP at 11pm? Let's just say, it ain't pretty. But it's pretty hilarious.
Last week, we overheard the two guys behind us discussing relationships and breakups. The one guy was hanging on to every word of the other guy, as if his life depended on it. If it weren't for the fact that they were sitting in the booth immediately behind us, I would have busted out laughing at some of the things I heard. Retract that: I did laugh. I just covered my mouth and choked back as much of it as possible.
We wanted to turn around, tap him on the shoulder, and say, "Excuse me? Just so you know, everything this guy is telling you is WRONG. Don't believe a word of it. He obviously doesn't understand women AT ALL."
But we didn't. We held our tongues.
So, I am about to head over to IHOP. Free wi-fi and cheap decaf coffee galore while I type my paper that is due Sunday. And, of course, people watch. You never know what you'll see next. My prediction? Prom couples. The roommate just sent me a picture text with four girls in prom dresses she met in Wal-Mart. Classy.
The rain is not improving my mood. I woke up late and got to work very late. I am not doing so hot on the database. I am crabby about school. I am wishing life would hurry up and magically grant me my wishes. I am being ridiculous.
I saw an article recently on how to decorate clothespins and use them for holding pictures when strung up on a line or when glued to a wooden backboard.
Now, I've done the stringing photographs by a line thing with clothespins, but I've never decorated them that I recall.
I thought it would be a wonderful little project. I've decided to attach strong magnets on the back, so they can stick to the refrigerator and hold notes or photos. I'll post pictures when I do, and I have considered posting sets of four on sale on Etsy, if I am pleased with the result of my artful endeavor.
From my Eats, Shoots & Leaves daily calendar page for today:
"The day after the abolition of the apostrophe, imagine the scene. Triumphant abolitionist sits down to write, 'Goodbye to the apostrophe, we're not missing you a bit!' and finds that he can't."
First time I had operated a lawn mower since approximately 1992. Front and back lawns are doing fine. I, however, have a blister between my right thumb and forefinger.
I'm counting that as my workout for today. According to one calorie counter, I burned approximately 424 calories for my one hour of activity. Not bad.
Book people are intriguing creatures. They come in all shapes and sizes, but have particular habits all their own.
Have you met the comic book and manga readers? Their aisle in Books-a-Million has grown quite a bit over the past couple of years. They could be 14 year-old boys or 22 year-old women. They might look Emo. They might look Goth. They might look completely non-descript. They might even have a sketchbook and pencil with them, to copy their favorite characters and learn how to draw anime.
The magazine readers filter to the back and scope out their favorites, browsing through page after page while standing in front of the rack, completely oblivious to the world (and the person next to them who is trying to reach across and grab the newest Runner's World or Southern Living).
Forty-something bestseller readers with classy tortoiseshell glasses and perfectly coiffed hair wander the aisles looking for a good read from the favorite authors. Perhaps this year's Mary Higgins Clark, Tom Clancy, or Patricia Cornwell for that trip to Daytona Beach or Boston.
There's always a supply of down-to-earth hikers, bikers, and travelers pouring over the travel and adventure guides. They are easily identifiable by their fleece vests and trendy hiking boots.
The kids are kept company with a favorite movie in the children's reading area. Those who don't watch the latest Disney favorite are begging for the new American Girl book or Lemony Snickett tale.
Huddled in one of the back aisles, two philosphy lovers, themselves in love, flip through the pages of serious-looking hardcovers with long titles and obscure authors. The two huddle head-to-head, smiling and nodding and seriously discussing something utterly important.
After three busy, busy weekends (Chicago, East Tennessee, Nashville birthday jaunt with Crystal and MJ), I am at home for once, and I plan on being at home until I go to church on Sunday. Unless, of course, a friend calls and begs me to leave my self-imposed hermitage.
I've just been so busy lately that I really need to pay some attention to little things like taking time to read a book, or actually study for those tests next week, or clean the house. Do laundry. You know, the mundane stuff.
So, the plan for tonight is to get into my pj's, grab a book, and curl up under a blanket on the couch and just enjoy the experience of reading for pleasure for once. I'll probably listen to some quiet music in the background until I'm done, and then the music will have to go upbeat so I stay motivated while cleaning.
I finally did another collage. This one is multi-media; oil pastels, old photographs I discovered at an antique shop, felt flowers from something vintage, and charcoal pencil on three 5x7 canvas panels.
I don't have a name for the series yet, but it was incredibly relaxing. I think I should make this a weekly activity.
What's up with talking on the cell phone while working out? Better yet ... what's up with talking on the cell phone while jogging around the indoors track?
So, I'm doing my accounting homework yesterday afternoon before class (I get off work early on Mondays and Tuesdays for this very purpose), and I need my computer professor dad to help with some Excel stuff.
We're supposed to calculate how much I'd have to have in an 8% savings account as of this month in order for me to have $1 million to my name by the time I am 65. I get one number; he gets another.
Turns out, he's pre-aged me. See, I figured I would have 38 years to earn this interest. He said I had only 37. I said, "but I'm not 28 yet." He said, "yes, but you will be in a month and a half."
That stopped me in my tracks.
How could 27 have gone so fast? I liked 27. It was good to me. I'm gonna miss it. Guess I'll have to live it up for the next month or so.
Days like this I want to skip out of work and go to a state park with lots of grassy knolls and open spaces. I'd grab an old blanket and a book along the way and head out to soak it all in, while watching kids play on the playground and walkers make their rounds.
Which reminds me: I need to buy a bike. I miss biking.
And I miss Valley Forge State Park in Pennsylvania, and the kite flyers I used to marvel at there. Stunt kites, whimsical kites, box kites—any kite you could imagine, really—were flown there on days like this.
Google Analytics does a nifty job of tracking where my visitors come from, what they search for, and how long the stay once they find it.
Oddly enough, I get the most hits from the following terms:
- Rubyred (duh) - How to throw a drop-in bridal shower (makes sense, considering I used to talk about working at the tea room) - Breakfast at Tiffany's bedding. (Again. Makes sense.) - How to ruin somebody's life (this one scares me! Who actually searches for this kind of thing? Seriously. Please, if you are reading this ... don't. Just don't. I was only being sarcastic about my job when I wrote about ruining somebody's day.) - How to go to grad school while working. (Ahh, don't! Just kidding.)
Looks like I need to write more "How To" posts ... they seem to draw the most interest.
I'm such a bad student this time around. People keep getting in my way. People I care about. People I'd rather see/take care of/be around than study/do homework/go to class.
So grad school hasn't been the best experience so far, but I still believe in it. I just wish there was a way I could do it without working full-time to pay expenses, so that I could spend week day daylight hours doing schoolwork instead of evenings and weekends.
But I just forgot to write a deadline in my planner, and so I didn't realize until an hour before the assignment was due that I had not read and responded to an article on Global Communication.
Yikes.
Yeah, I got a half-hearted response in 15 minutes before midnight, and then worked on a couple responses to chapter discussions. I don't expect a good grade from any of them. And you know what? I'm not devastated. This is so weird. The only thing that bothers me is how much money I borrowed from the government to do this.
-Schedule GMAT? GRE? Neither? -Austin Peay? Search for other business communication master's degrees? -Ethnography? Why couldn't I have discovered it earlier?
-Coming up: March 31, BLAW test; April 8, ACCT Exam #4; April 14, BLAW test; April 17 BCEN Long, Formal (12-pg) report due + Cover Letter & Questionnaire; April 28, BCEN Final Exam AND BLAW Final Exam; April 29, ACCT Final Exam
-Work out 5x this week. Or else. -Look into that online craft/vintage shop idea. Sounds cool. -Start a new collage. Actually plan this one. -Set up an Etsy account -Organize garage -Fix car windshield -Vacuum car (including trunk) -Take Claritin every day -Where on earth is that library book? Find it. -Before school is out, go to the music building and enjoy a lazy afternoon of playing on a keyboard in one of the cool sound rooms. Maybe even buy new sheet music to try out.
-Read the Bible. Repeatedly. -Pray for friends, family, yourself. Daily. -Do something silly at least once a week. -Don't stress.
-Focus at work. No, really. FOCUS. Even when there's nothing to do ... make something up and work at it with all your heart. -Which reminds me: fish around to see if I should start shopping for some trade-show clothing for the end of May at JCK (booth, dinners, after parties). Get a "cocktail" dress that is decent.
-Free weights and Sit ups. 'Til it hurts. -Write at least 3 chapters of SFAIG. -Get a haircut/dye job. It's about time. Last one was, what? December? -Get a manicure. Just 'cause. -And a pedicure wouldn't hurt, if you've got the cash. -Try the tanning salon to clear up skin for summer? -That's enough girliness for now. Now, go read a Psychology book or something. Improve your mind.
-Don't Panic. (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Reference!)
"Are you getting turned down time and time again for the job of your dreams because you just don't have the right letters after your name?
Academic Qualifications available from prestigious NON-ACCREDITED universities.
Achieve your Bachelors, Masters, MBA, or PhD in the field of your expertise."
This is fantastic. All I have to do is send you a check, Shelia? Thank you so much for spamming me this message! Where were you ten years ago, when I first started college? I could have saved so much time and money.
It's a bit of a song from "The Music Man"—you know, that musical with the infamous 76 trombones?
For over a year now, I have unconsciously collected phrases that can be sung to this tune. I don't know why. There is no reason. I am just strangely and inexplicably bemused whenever I find one. I discovered a new one today ... chicken quesadillas. It was very exciting.
So, that brings me to:
Elbow Macaroni Denver, Colorado Fargo, North Dakota Chicken Quesadillas
Mom and Dad knew that Uncle C and Aunt G were coming down from Pennsylvania for Easter. Aunt G then called me and asked if I could make the 4-hr trip out from Nashville; I said, sure!
So, when I knocked on the door and hit from the peep hole on their front door yesterday afternoon, my Dad answered with a puzzled expression on his face, which turned immediately to shock and he jumped--yes, JUMPED in surprise.
Surprise #1.
I then went to Arby's with Uncle C and Aunt G to go pick up salads and see my youngest brother, Kevin, who was working behind the scenes. I asked the girl at the front if I could talk to Kevin. She tells another girl to get him. When he peaks his head around, his face is shocked. We hug across the counter (all of his coworkers are watching with undisguised interest. Kevin is hugging a GIRL.)
Surprise #2
Then ... Sunday morning Elliott and Morgen sneak in and fall asleep in the living room before anyone else gets up. They had driven from Connecticut overnight. When Dad and Mom saw them, Dad went practically speechless, and Mom, well, let's just say there were tears of joy.
Surprise #3
It was worth every minute of the homework I wasn't able to do.
I have always struggled with worry and fear in my life.
As a young girl, I learned the hard way that girls my age were wrapped up in their own cliques and cattiness. Even the church girls. Actually, especially the church girls. Looking back, I thought I was shy. I was wrong. I was introverted, yes, but not exactly shy. I just didn't have the opportunity to shine in my own way for most of my school years. Up until 4th grade, I was fearless and just assumed that everybody loved me. But then I woke up to the realization that every girl but myself in Sunday School had a group of friends that she sat with, while I sat alone. It was a startling revelation. From that day forward, I longed to belong and be admired by my peers. It was a futile desire. The few friends I had were equally ostracized by the popular group. I was ignored by most of the rest of the kids I knew, and even bullied by a few. While I worried away my school years, wondering why nobody liked me, I was wasting precious time in developing my character to become more like Christ's ... not like Lisa's or Michelle's or Nicole's or Ann's. It took until my freshman year of college to understand how wrong I was to base my worth on the opinions of others.
Then, when I gained some weight in Bible College (stupid pizza bites and pre-plated brownies in the cafeteria!), I worried about how I looked to other people ("fat" was a new thing for me... I had been too gangly until college) and got into an obsession with comparing my body shape to every other girl's around me. It was like an addiction; I couldn't make myself stop. Do I look like that? Am I fatter or skinnier than her? Am I uglier or prettier than her? If she is less attractive than I am, will I appear more attractive when I am around her? Finally, I felt so guilty, I asked my resident assistant to call me out on the issue and hold me accountable for breaking the cycle of negativity and--let's face it--covetousness. With a lot of prayer, God's grace, and a few uncomfortable accountability sessions, I did finally overcome my unhealthy obsession.
After college, I walked into my dream job. A dream that you who have followed this blog for the past four years know turned into a nightmare. Once the nightmare began, I felt overwhelmingly incompetent and stressed. My body turned against me. I felt sick to my stomach every morning I went to work. I had nightmares and sleepless nights by turn. My health deteriorated. I went through what was probably a clinical depression. When at last I realized something was terribly wrong, I took immediate action: I quit my job, broke my lease, and moved in with my parents while starting over and going through a healing process mentally and emotionally. Once again, it took a lot of prayer and guidance and clinging to scriptures to bring me back into balance.
The past two years have been ones of positive change for me. I moved back out of my parents' house, found a job in which I can excel, and formed some friendships that challenge, inspire, and encourage me. Slowly, slowly, the worries slipped away.
Yet, recently, I have found myself caught in a cycle of worry and confusion. Part of it is simply that so many parts of my life are up in the air at the moment ... in a good way. Is it time for me to move on and find a better paying position in which I will continue to be challenged? If so, should I consider applying to jobs in other areas of the country? Should I continue to take graduate classes, or should I hold off for awhile? If I decide to move to advance my "career", what will happen to my parents while they try to sell the townhouse? Will the decision I make put my roommate in a bad position? What about other people?
And, perhaps the worst question of all: what if. As in, "what if I make the wrong choice?!" or "what if _[random event]_ doesn't happen?" or "what if _[random person]_ thinks I'm crazy for this?" or "what if they don't understand?" or "what if I offended her/him/them/it when I said what I was thinking?" or ...
What if ... what if ... what if. I could worry for a lifetime about those whats and ifs. But today, while taking some time out to pray and take a few deep breaths (Thank goodness for ladies' rest rooms in offices!), I realized, yet again, that my cycle of doubt and confusion and worry was completely against the commands of God. Seriously. As in:
“Therefore donotworry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’"Matthew 6:30-32
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things."Philippians 4:7-9
"... bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ ..."2 Corinthians 10:4-6
Friends: hold me accountable in this area. I am really struggling. The future is so complex, and I am such a control freak that I want everything to be absolutely perfect, which I know is not only unrealistic, but also a dangerous attitude to hold. In essence, when I worry like this, I am operating in fear and accusing God of not being in control. AND I am putting more value on the opinions of others than of His. What a slap in His face.
Wow. This post sounds a little more negative than I intended it to sound. I'm happy to have come to this conclusion today. I'm more than a little glad I took some "time out" sitting on the floor in the bathroom with the door locked and my head in my hands, praying to God. I know it is going to be a struggle for me, but I am excited about clinging to my Father's arm when I slip and stumble along the way. I know He will catch me and lead me in His way.
And so, to end this lengthy post, may I quote that wisest of the wise men: Bobby McFerrin ... "Don't Worry, Be Happy."
I couldn't wait ... Walgreen's developed my pictures today, right after coming home. Unfortunately, they didn't do the best job. And I didn't take the best pictures to begin with. But some did turn out well, so here's the cream of the crop.
The Chicago Sign by Day ...
... and Night.
MJ Looks Out Over the Chicago River.
"The Bean"
"The Bean" Up Close
The Fountain Face in the Park
Outside the Lego Store
On the Bridge ... The Tamest St. Patty's Day RevelersMJ and RubyRed on the Train
I fly out via Southwest this evening with MJ. In the meantime, I'm trying to quickly wrap work stuff, so I don't have to feel guilty for leaving anything behind.
I'm currently in the midst of a Color and Mood whitepaper.
Random posting-out-loud moment, here. First of all, a quick re-wind in time ... I caught the drama of Friday night's snowfall here in Middle Tennessee when I walked out to my car after hanging with the girls at T.G.I.Friday's (how appropriate!), sipping a Diet Coke while my roommate ate her very late dinner after work.
Big, fat snowflakes floated through the air, and my car was coated in crusty, frozen white stuff. I called it. I really did. I said that we'd get a snow "storm" after the daffodils began popping out of the ground. Bingo! Exactly what happened. Poor daffodils.
I remembered I had recently found my camera again, and it was, at that very moment, sitting on the passenger seat of my car. I grabbed it and snapped a quick picture of the effects of snow on my hair and sweater. Brrrr. See?
So, anyways ... tomorrow. I go back to work and school. I do not want to do either. I have two tests tomorrow, and so far I have only studied for one. (Yes, I know. I shouldn't be blogging right now. Some call it procrastination. I call it protecting my sanity.) As for work, well, it's work. And I'm not feeling very challenged/inspired by it at the moment. But it will get better. Busy season is just around the corner. Soon, I will barely have time to think.
Fortunately, I have this weekend to look forward to. MJ and I are hitting up Chicago. We fly out Thursday night, staying at her parents' house for the weekend, and then have three glorious days to do nothing but soak up culture and local flavors, plus maybe a little live jazz, if I'm lucky. I plan on going to as many tiny independent boutique stores as I can, for inspiration. I had originally pulled MJ into this crazy, impulsive trip because I thought I would attend the Country Living Magazine's Women Entrepreneurs conference. Alas, it was sold out when I called to book my spot. But we're heading to Chi-town, anyway, so the boutiques will have to suffice.
Four days. Four short days, and I will be free again.
So, MJ and I went to Nashville on Saturday in search of a t-shirt we couldn't find. Though we drove away empty handed, we did run across a belligerent street performer, some scary tourists, a man dressed in orange and white checkerboard overalls, and Elvis in a glass display box, dispensing his "hunka hunka burning wisdom" for 50 cents a session.
What Elvis has to do with Nashville is beyond me. They could have at least caged up Johnny Cash or Reba, for goodness sakes.
I swear, Nashville drivers cannot handle even the THREAT of rain. Overcast, misty days are automatic accident causers. And the ridiculous traffic piles up as drivers slow down to stare at the poor unfortunate, stupid souls stranded on the side of the road next to a car with an accordion for a hood.
Hello!? It's called "leave enough room between you and the car in front of you to stop on a slick road," people!
Well, I got my Economics professor to give us all an extension of time on our due date. He gave us from Friday until Sunday. Then, he gave us until Monday, due to a technical difficulty. I really needed that extension. I've now completed part of 6 out of 10 questions, after having spent about 13-15 hours of work this week alone on the homework. I feel like I can complete at least two more, and add the excel diagrams to the homework before the deadline tomorrow night. But I am worried about the quiz, since I have expended all my energy on the homework, which is on one topic, while the quiz is on another entirely. This is what drives me crazy about that class! It is so scattered ... ahh, but I *do* feel better about it, in the long run this week. That is an improvement, to say the least. I actually learned quite a bit.
On Thursday night, I went to a Predator's game in Nashville and watched with excitement as the game went from BORING to EXCITING, all the way into the anti-climatic shoot-off that gave the game to the Canuck's in the last seconds. There was a fight in the middle of the second period. Blood was on the ice for the rest of the game.
In other news, my roommate and I interviewed another girl today to share the house. We're so used to each other that it will be a little strange to have a third girl around, but we will get used to it. Splitting the utilities will be nice. We'll be able to afford more reliable Internet access than our nice neighbor's free wi-fi access, which is usually a very weak signal.
Speaking of signals, I'm trying to figure out my life ... again. I'm asking God to show me which direction to go. There's been some interesting developments lately that have influenced my perceptions of the present. Work is getting increasingly frustrating as I become more and more adept at doing more in less time. I've essentially worked myself into a corner: I can't grow, and I can't leave. Meanwhile, I've been re-assessing my school situation (is an MBA really the way to go?) and my roommate and I are both questioning whether or not we want to even live in the Nashville area past this year. Jobs in non-health care or educationally related fields are shockingly hard to come by.
Or, more accurately, the homework and quizzes. The general information isn't so bad. But the absolutely RIDICULOUS amount of work and study needed to pass this class is beyond insane. When am I EVER going to use these functions, calculations, and theories? NEVER!
-Come over, see your messy house, and don't care. -Can talk about nothing, and have it mean something. -Never question your urgent need for dark chocolate or mint chocolate chip ice cream. -Bring flowers. -Tell you what to do when you can't decide. And are right. -Know the importance of a good chick flick fest. -Tell the truth, even when it hurts.
According to the lecture slides from my online Survey of Economic Theory class at MTSU,
People reveal their true preferences by what they do (an action), not by what they say.
Thank you, Dr. Graddy. I'm not sure if you were aware of this or not, but you just made an argument that supports the Bible.
But whoever has this world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth. (I John 3:17-18)
Amazing, isn't it, how knowing God enhances our understanding of the way the world works?
I have found myself longing for bed sooner in the evening, lately. This is a little disturbing to me, since I have always been a night owl. I dislike getting up at six o'clock in the morning. I dislike driving an hour to get to work after getting only five or six hours of sleep. I wish I could stay up into the wee hours of the morning doing research online, crafting, collaging, or blogging.
But I can't. I must sleep. Amazing how my brain protests these days when I push it to its limits.
I have questioned myself many times over during this first month of classes. Is this something I really need to be doing? Is the fatigue and stress worth it? Will something good come out of this? I still believe in what I'm doing, but I do admit that it is harder than I ever thought it would be. Add to that the personality conflict of my artist/idealist dreamer personality that is in stark contrast to the give-me-the-facts/numbers-don't-lie hard-edged business world, and I have an interesting dilemma: can I survive business school with my true self intact? I know I'm only doing this for my own reasons, but are they enough to get me through?
I only reduced by work week by 4 hours, so I still am considered a full-time employee. Since I am limited as a graduate student to 12 credit hours per semester, I thought I was taking it easy. After all, as an undergraduate, I took a minimum of 15 credits per semester and worked in at least one part-time job on the side.
Little did I know. Those 12 hours are pushing me to the limits of my strength. Only six of my hours are graduate-level, and they are online classes (Business Report Writing and Survey of Economic Theory). The two evening classes I take (Legal Environment of Business and Survey of Accounting for General Business) are undergraduate, but equally time-consuming.
As one of my coworkers pointed out, I live two, if not three separate lives all at once. There is my work life, my student life, and my personal life. All three lives require an investment of time, energy, and emotional strength. My brain is being over-clocked! No wonder I crash into my bed and groan when the alarm goes off each morning.
Resenting the time my homework and studying consumes is a new emotion for me. To apply a theory from my Economics course, the opportunity cost of my schooling is the time I get to sleep and/or be with the people I care about. It's a steep price to pay. I have a decision to make each evening when I get home from work: do I crash and watch TV for an hour or two, call a friend to chat, clean house, or study. If I choose any one of those options, then all of the others is neglected. It does not make for a very balanced existence.
Granted, I can use the accounting and business report writing classes, in particular, to further my career or use in any business I choose to start. They are tangible talents. Knowing my way around accounts receivable and unearned business revenue or being able to whip out a professional marketing proposal in a flash will, inevitably, be good for me. Meanwhile, having a basic knowledge of the legal environment is inarguably beneficial, and knowing the economic principles behind business decisions is equally useful. If I can just get through the semester with decent grades, I will happy. Yet, I still wonder, at what cost am I getting this education? Will it truly provide for me three or four years from now, when I am approaching banks for a small business loan, or applying for marketing director positions at mid-sized firms?
Time will tell. In the meantime, I am doing a lot of praying!
Well, science has finally proven what I already knew: I'm a mutant.
I'm not sure what this all means for my gray-blue eyes, but supposedly all people with blue eyes can be traced back to a single mutation of pigment in the iris.
Of course, I know that I have only two ancestors, anyways, so no big shocker there. But I wonder which son of Adam or daughter of Eve was the first to develop this distinctive trait of all fellow blue-eyed mutants of the world?
Two shirts in one. What a brilliant idea. I NEVER can find that silly white button-down top when I need it. Now I'll never have to look again! It's a twop! TWO-tOP! No adjusting the sleeves to poke out just so from under my sweater. Maybe it's a swop! SWeater tOP.
Skybus has just released their new $10 flights for summer. Check it out!
They only have ten $10 seats per flight, which sell out incredibly quickly, and they only fly to smaller airports, so you might have to book a couple of round-about flights to show up at your desired destination, but it is well worth it.
I plan on trying to get in at least one just-for-the-fun of it trip this year for $50 or less.
Not only am I once again entranced by a product release (Mac Fan, here! Want an Air Book!), I am also once again entranced by the music behind the ad.
Yael Naim, whom I think I actually heard of BEFORE the ad (vaguely remember reading something about an up-and-coming Israelian who sings in Hebrew, French, and English), is featured in the lightweight laptop's introduction to the world. I looked her up and loved this video. It's so charming, upbeat, and sweet. What's not to like?
Prove it. Buy me an over-sized Teddy Bear from China holding a pink satin heart with a ridiculous amount a lace and poorly stitched words of endearment.
Try Wal-Mart. It'll make me even happier that you got a deal! Go to the front of the store and find these cheerful guys all lined up by the checkouts with care, in hopes that St. Valentine soon will be there ...
One benefit of being sick is that it forces your small, aching brain to focus on one thing at a time. Like, the urgent need to make chocolate pudding, or read a book, or browse through magazines you've stored away for obviously important reasons that you've now forgotten, or listen to random why-on-earth-do-I-have-this-electronica-song tracks TWICE on iTunes, just because.
You also get to think. A lot. Even though it hurts.
For instance, I keep thinking about making collages and mixed media assemblages and 3-D art from randomness that I find in my ever-so-random world. Which reminds me. I missed this month's flea market at the Tennessee Fairgrounds. Shame. I alway find great ephemera there, along with buttons that old men are practically ready to throw away because they mean nothing to them. Once, I scored some wonderful purple glass bottles. I need to put them up somewhere in the sun sometime soon. Really.
I also need to try my hand at letterpress for once. My school actually has a class. The problem is that the class is in the daytime. I work in the daytime.
Then there's this nagging desire to start my own business. What business? Well, three years ago, I would have said stationery (has it been three years already? How time flies!). Now, I say I don't know. I just want it to be mine. And I want to make just enough money to pay for the bills and a little extra and finance all the international travels I'd like to make. Don't get me wrong: stationery is great. I love stationery. I am so happy for all my Paperpreneur friends who went on to stationery greatness while I lagged behind.
And writing. Can't forget that. The one thing I can do to make something from nothing and possibly collect a profit from my efforts. Why I don't pursue it more than I do here is a mystery to me. It's only the one lifelong obsession I've had.
Oddly enough, I'm not restless, like I've been in other years in which I've posted my heart on my ... blog. I'm actually doing something proactive. (Going back to school, that is.) On Monday nights I suffer through a business law class. On Tuesday nights I am actually astonished to find that I ENJOY accounting (so far, anyway). This bodes well for running my own show one day. On Sundays, I meet with 4-6 other grad students to study for an Economics course, that, despite being the death of me and a constant source of mathematical frustration, is still fascinating stuff. And in between all this, I cram in some Business Report Writing homework time and upload homework.
Am I crazy? Maybe. Okay, more than likely. But, despite this miserable flu, I'm actually happy. Next, I'll join some student networking organizations, and, once my head is back to its normal self, I'll sit down and figure out ways to meet other business women who can help mentor me in my endeavors.
I'll also start crafting again. Collage has definitely attracted me. I think I have found my personal artistic medium at last. Maybe I'll sell some stuff on Etsy. That would be a step in the right direction. And maybe I'll write about it and see if a publication bites.
Ah, the hopes and plans of an influenza-riddled brain.
We were coming up with product names for a piece of religious jewelry. I was trying to come up with words I associated with the idea. That is what came out. It ended up on the white board in the conference room, in quotes.
Incidentally, I'm not fond of the current culture of "Christian" products that so saturate the market. It makes me feel like the true meaning behind it all has lost some of its sacredness and mystery.
This image is brought to you by the good people of Cracker Barrel. I found them sitting on a display full of similar items. I don't know what is scarier ... that people actually buy these horrific saccharine creatures of pastel ceramic, or that they exist in the first place.
So, two of my favorite stubborn people got married to each other on Saturday. As with any wedding, it had its miniature disasters (now I have a KT Tunstall song in my head!), but it was beautiful and joyful all the same. And now, they are off skiing on some excruciatingly high mountain somewhere for the next week.
What does one do when experiencing the longest, most uneventful, most boring day in your work history?
Why, take an online IQ test, of course. I scored 130, aka "Gifted."
Mensa won't be calling anytime soon (Their cutoff is 132), but then, according to the "test" I took, I'm still in the 97.5 percentile of the population, brain-wise. Not too shabby.
I got my "Welcome Grad Student" letter from MTSU today. That was quick, considering it was only Thursday afternoon when I took a half day to go and push myself through all the red tape. I've registered for 3 classes ... need to find one more to go ahead and select.
In two weeks, Elliott and Morgen are getting married! I've been looking for an appropriate dress to wear. Man, that's hard to do. However, I did go today and got a much-needed haircut and I changed up my hair color while I was at it. The blondish highlights from the summer were getting old.
So I took a goofy pix of myself with my phone ... in case you were wondering what I look like now. ;^)
For those of you who haven't heard ... my bosses have all OK'd my taking grad school classes while working at the agency. I'm taking a half day sometime next week to take care of all the administration stuff at MTSU. Now, I just need to get a Pipeline account so I can register, and my financial aid has to go through, and I need my classes to fit around my work schedule so that I am not reducing my hours by too much.
When I first heard this song, I teared up a little bit. It really hit me the truth they are singing about ... I hope it blesses you, too, and I hope you have a chance to hear the beautiful music on your own ...
How Many Kings? by Downhere
Follow the star to a place unexpected Would you believe after all we’ve projected A child in a manger
Lowly and small, the weakest of all Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in his mothers shawl Just a child Is this who we’ve waited for?
'Cause how many kings, stepped down from their thrones? How many lords have abandoned their homes? How many greats have become the least for me? How many Gods have poured out their hearts To romance a world that has torn all apart? How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Bringing our gifts for the newborn savior All that we have whether costly or meek Because we believe Gold for his honor and frankincense for his pleasure And myrrh for the cross he’ll suffer Do you believe, is this who we’ve waited for? (It’s who we’ve waited for)
How many kings, stepped down from their thrones? How many lords have abandoned their homes? How many greats have become the least for me? How many Gods have poured out their hearts To romance a world that has torn all apart? How many fathers gave up their sons for me? Only one did that for me
And, even better? My bedroom is almost set up. Crystal helped me put my bed on its frame at last, and I rearranged, and it looks so cute and grown up in there.
Have a mentioned how fabulous my friends are? Dave can rock a tacky Christmas sweater, Jackie knows the three nutrients plants need to survive, MJ has tons of self-esteem, Ricky listens to the married men and got the gift his fiancee asked for ... PLUS he accessorizes with ease by turning leftover Easter Eggs into a fashionable bracelet, Rachel makes heaven-flavored pineapple dip, Karen is devious, DEVIOUS I tell you (pig's feet! disgusting!), John is (almost) smarter than a 5th grader, Crystal walked my dog when I was cooking, Ali cracks me up (the pinwheel/Easter Egg re-gift? GENIUS!), and ... if I haven't mentioned the others, it's only because there is simply to much to write.
My friends, you who know me well know of my life goals.
Well, I am two steps closer to achieving one today. Yesterday, I took the first. Today, I took the second. Hopefully soon, I will take the third and fourth steps, and then I will be on the brink of walking into my new future.
Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have to be a little secretive, but it's terribly exciting. You should ask me about it!
Oh what fun it is to shop on warm December day ...
Melinda J and I hit up downtown Franklin for some girl's day out fun on Saturday. We've both decided to skip the mall scene and do all our shopping at small boutiques and online. We both scored some finds, but half the fun was the people we met and the odd antiques that cracked us up.
We met several babies who LOVE Melinda. Love her. They smile and coo and make funny faces whenever she walks by. It's like magic. We also met a fabulous lady from Austria who owned a shop in the Factory at Franklin. We met a lady who was telling a friend how she had scolded Miley Cyrus in Target for walking around without shoes on (only in Franklin! Oh how Nashvillians love their celebrity sitings ...), and we met an adorable older shop keeper who was wearing an oh-so-fashionable jacket and just beamed when we told her it looked great on her. We met a three year-old who tried to practice his kung fu skills on us with his beads for the Christmas parade.
So, here's what we took pictures of:
1) A real bronzed Adonis. Who wouldn't want this "antique" Greek god to display hats and scarves so handsomely? (I laughed until my sides hurt and I cried when I turned the corner and found this fella in an antique store).
2) A hat. Yes, this is a hat. Not a flower pot filled with silk flowers.
3) A ... I'm not even sure what to call this. But it's "antique" too.
But I'm not. 'Cause I'm tired. Okay, in just a few minutes I will do my laundry, wash the dishes, and unpack some more boxes. I also need to prop my bed up on its frame, instead of it being directly on the floor like it is now.
Tomorrow is the first non-crazy work day. I wonder what I'm going to do, outside of prep image files of the catalog pages for use in websites. When the web guy and I get done doing that ... I am not sure WHAT I'll do.
But that's tomorrow. For now, I'm sitting on my bed and being lazy. Huh? What's that. Ummm ... the answer to that smart-alec question is, "because I can."
Amazing. For every word you get right in this fun, educational, self-paced vocabulary quiz, a sponsoring company donates 10 grains of rice. Not that much, perhaps, but keep playing and you've filled a bowl, and added new words to your everyday life!
Well, as is the normal way for the company where I work, we have gone from mind-numblingly slammed to almost (but not quite yet) mind-numbingly slow. Actually, I was working at a normal pace today, which to me felt like I was going at the speed of a tortoise. I'm going home at 5 o'clock on the dot on a MONDAY.
After three long months. Wait. Is it November already? Make that FOUR long months, the busy season is finally winding down at the catalog company. Now it's panic time as we MUST have those lovely catalogs sent to their appropriate areas of the nation no later than Christmas. Factor in printing and binding and ink-jetting addresses and shipping and mailing and delivery times.
Yeah, we're pretty much going insane right now.
It's been a weird insane this week. Slow all morning, busy after lunch, and slammed by 4 o'clock, just in time to remind me I'm still not my own woman, I still don't get to go home and have a life, and I still have to stay past 5 or 6 or 7 to get it done. I'm not whining, am I? Why would I do that? I've only given my company 1/3 of my year.
And then, by Christmas, we'll be so bored out of our minds that I will beg for work to do. Somebody please remind me to slow down and take the time to fill out my FAFSA before this month is over?
And to my dear, patient friends and family, I promise I'll hang out more again. Ali, I might actually make it to one of your hang-out-after-Sunday-night-church times at your place. Melinda_J, we should most definitely do another Starbucks, conversation, and prayer night. Crystal, you've seen me through most of this and bossed me lovingly back into sanity. THANK YOU! John and Aaron ... thanks for the laughs. Those wigs at the Murder Mystery were AWESOME! Mom (yes, I know you read this), I'll be home by this time next week. I LOVE YOU! And don't stress out over Thanksgiving. I'll help as much as possible, so you can rest and recoup.
So, guess what, everyone? Fun, not-so-stressed me is about to return! Hooray! (Who knew diamond rings, pearl necklaces, and extravagant bangles could be so exhausting?)
So, I totally tried to bust a move tonight at the 80's Murder Mystery Dinner Party, but I kept falling asleep, so it didn't work out that well. My boyfriend, Shaggy-Goo Oxide, was jealous that Moe Jontana was so interested in me and my dancing. I swear, I was only talking to Moe because he knew Hollywood agents he could introduce me to.
Anyways, when Moe turned up dead, and I was found asleep not too far away, people thought I had done it. Even I thought I had done it. But I didn't murder Moe. It was that silly Samantha Pinkman. The Rubiks' cube gave it away, but still nobody accused her of it. Huh.
Well, after the perfectly marvelous murder during Maqua-Net's Hair Aid fundraiser, Jeven, Patty, Gladdona, and myself went out to grab a bite at everybody's favorite late-night place to crash ... IHOP. Patty's tulle skirt and Jeven's hair band 'do had people staring and even laughing. I, in my leg warmers, tights, cut-off sweatshirt and teased hair, looked fairly normal compared to those two. It was very amusing.
See why I love my friends? We can do crazy stuff like that, even though we're all twenty or thirtysomethings (some of us are even fortysomethings).
The only bummer was that I couldn't find my digital camera because of the move, so I have to rely on other people's pictures in order to have memories of the night. I wanted to show you my fab outfit!
I am about to enter the insanity for my 3rd year of relentless typing and frenzied plotting. I will not plot until Wednesday, I think. But I do intend to make a fun image this year that promotes my WIP (work-in-progress).
The insanity continues. FYI, I will never, ever wear this junk I put in the catalogs. Guys? Are you listening? A $450,000 ring will not make me happy. Just get flowers. Or buy me a subscription to Writer's Digest or something. Much cheaper, more useful, and a lot more my style. (Now, if you can AFFORD a $450,000 ring, that is impressive. But please, avoid the urge to splurge.)
Well, it was a crazy week. Melinda_J asked me how much longer the catalog season is supposed to last, and I figured it at right around eight more weeks.
Eight weeks of continuous insanity. Eight weeks of frantic activity. Eight weeks of "Wait! Is that custom vendor page approved in that catalog? Don't send it to press yet!" Eight weeks of answering endless accusatory questions from marketing directors in various NYC offices who have chips on their shoulders the size of Manhattan and the personalities of runway models on steroids who have taken lessons in charm from Al Gore (side note: do not ever attend a lecture on any topic if Al Gore is the speaker if you don't need a long nap. I learned this lesson the hard way back in college when I attended his special lecture on Freedom of the Press, only to hear a rambling tale of why it was just a rumor that he and Tipper were buying out Denny's).
So, now it is 4:49pm Central Time, and I am counting down the minutes until I am free. Of course, that freedom is short-lived. I have to be in again tomorrow.
Overtime. Overtime. Overtime. The mantra by which I survive my seemingly never-ending 6-day work weeks.
-It stinks that that had to happen, but it will make me stronger. -I will be the office superwoman if I pull it off. -Somebody give me a "Most Patient Woman Alive" award for this. -I'm gonna kick it into gear this weekend. January will bring more than just another new year.
Yesterday was Blog Action Day. I was supposed to have participated, in a worldwide blog event supporting the environment.
And I forgot.
Actually, I didn't forget; I was too busy. It sprang to mind during my commute both ways from work (in which I didn't carpool), and then I just didn't have time either before or after business hours to blog away. I was just preoccupied with printing out pages to proof at work, using electricity to keep me going, eating food that was pre-packaged, and throwing out my trash.
When I was on the way home, I went to Wal-Mart and bought snack food that I carried out of the store in plastic bags.
In short: I didn't reuse, reduce, or recycle a single thing.
It's funny how easy it is to be a wasteful, planet-harming consumer. It's all about MY convenience, MY needs, and MY desires. How selfish of ME! I don't stop to think about how the chemicals I pour down the drain (paint, nail polish remover, bleach, any cleaner) affect my fellow community members. I don't think about how much I rely on plastic to get through my day, or how that plastic is made. I don't even concern myself that much with the exhaust coming out of my car. And yet I wonder why so many people (my mother included) get cancer, or have severe allergies, or come down with a headache. Shame on me. Shame on us all.
Sometimes Christians shudder at the thought of PETA or the Sierra Club and how they place animals and vegetables above Humans.
But, let me ask you this: what was man's first job? Taking care of God's creation! (Genesis 1, if I need to remind you). It's not just a silly, liberal conspiracy started by Al Gore; it's reality. We have trashed our world.
It's time to wake up, accept responsibility, and start tending the garden!
Dad finished painting my room today and installed my curtain rod. After I received the "all clear" from him, I sat down in the middle of the floor and just absorbed how nice it was to have walls that weren't apartment beige.
I chose a mid-tone gray with a hint of blue in it. Against the white trim and doors it looks very elegant. My parents had been skeptical, but even they acknowledged it looked good, much to their surprise. I can't wait until this coming weekend, when I'll bring in my furniture and hang the sheers.
It is so weird to be moving BACK into the house I had shared with my brother. This time, however, there won't be any motorcycle helmets hanging out on the kitchen counter, or dirty work boots chilling by the coffee table, or random college friends wandering in and out for Halo parties until the wee hours of the morning. LOL.
I'm also excited about my appliances. Oh, how I have missed those appliances! The stove has the flat surface burners (or "eyes" as they're called in Tennessee), the microwave is mounted above the stove, and the refrigerator is nice and big and has the freezer on the bottom, so you don't have to stoop to take the milk off the bottom shelf. My new roommate and I both love to cook, but we hate to cook for just ourselves ... so I anticipate many yummy meals in the near future, now that there will be two of us eating there. I'll break out my stellar mac n' cheese, or a hearty lentil soup, and she'll wow me with artichokes and chicken and pasta. I'm already looking forward to entertaining in our place. We will host dinner parties, if anyone is interested in coming and enjoying the fruits of our labor ... and I always have that St. Patty's day event ... and after church lunches could be arranged, with enough begging ... :)
And we have a dining room table. A real dining room, with a real table and chairs.
If God would just work it out for me to work in Murfreesboro, instead of Nashville, my dream of living and thriving in a community will come true. This is because my roommate and I have all but shaken hands on a pact: no moving until we are either married or my parents decide to sell the house. We are both sick and tired of moving. And do you blame us? I mean, I myself have only moved ... let's see ... well this move will make it SEVEN times since 2004. It's getting old.
So, I got a big thumbs up from the owner of yesterday's retail store that we were trying to get the catalog to press for. It didn't happen, but it turns out the deadline was backed-up by him so that everything would be ready by next week.
He told me on the phone that I had been wonderful, and then (here's the BEST part) he called and told my boss, as well, who later came by and said that the retailer had "sung my praises."
By this I mean that it is supposed to be printed and ready to go in an insertion order by next Wednesday. This makes it my number one priority, because in order to get there by then it should have printed ... yesterday.
From 11am until 6pm, I was typing and clicking and answering the phone as fast as I could. The owner of the retail store was calling me, giving me updates on his own efforts. His son was in on the deal, too. I called the president of our company in an a couple issues. Our entire team was focused on getting that catalog, and that catalog alone, ready to go to press and 100% signed off on. As soon as changes came in from the vendors featured in their pages, I would forward it to our art director or retoucher, and then trot down the aisle to follow up and either explain or oversee the changes. Once made, I would make a pdf and whip it right back to the marketing person on the other side, all the while answering e-mails, making phone calls, and occasionally checking my own personal e-mail to see how the ongoing "conversation" between myself and some friends planning a Murder Mystery Dinner night was going.
I still don't have approval on a few pages from different vendors whose merchandise is featured in the retailer's catalog, so I a have to send urgent e-mails, and make last minute phone calls, and sic my boss on the non-responsive ones!
I had 5 companies I was working on getting copy and approvals from today. I got copy from 4, and approvals from 3, and I should see the final fruit of my labor in the morning, when the Advertising & Marketing director of a Big Company has promised to have an approval of the layout and copy waiting for me from their Merchandising department.
So, tomorrow at noon we send the files to the printer. They will burn the plates, load the presses, and get that baby off to the mailing house ASAP, and I will desperately wish for some down time to relax, but will instead IMMEDIATELY begin working just as hard on the next one. Back to moving mountains. I have to admit, my adrenaline starts pumping hard a few hours before deadline. My mind clears, and my actions are all focused on that one task ahead of me: get the catalog approved. But once that file is off to the printer and out of our hands? I wilt. The adrenaline is gone. The fatigue sets in. Suddenly, I long for my bed and a good book.
Incidentally, the Murder Mystery Dinner night is going to be fantastic. Now that we've all rehashed the stories the last time we did one, I'm psyched to find out who my character is and plan my costume and have a blast.
I showed a coworker my red ink-bespeckled arms from where I have rested on my To-Do list and the pages I'm correcting. Hazard of the job, I guess. I've had spots there for 2-3 days now, and simply cannot get them out. They look suspicious—at first glance, it could be taken as blood spots on my wrists.
She just laughed. "No! Don't do it!" she said in mock horror. "It isn't worth it! It's just a catalog!"
Yeah, but there's 98 more ... and less than 60 days ...
The Chicago Sign by Day ...
... and Night.
MJ Looks Out Over the Chicago River.
"The Bean"
"The Bean" Up Close
The Fountain Face in the Park
Outside the Lego Store
On the Bridge ... The Tamest St. Patty's Day Revelers
MJ and RubyRed on the Train
Sunset on the "Batman" tower (at&t) from the alley.
Textures from Nolensville Pike. Subway parking lot.
