Every year or so I decide I need to get more organized. Time for a new planner/organizer!
I have in my collection 5-10 planners/organizers of varying sizes and colors. I start off using them everyday for a good 2 months or so...then I use it here and there...but then it collects dust on my book shelf.
But not this time. No. This time I have found "the one." The PERFECT planner for me. I shopped at 11 different stores, returned 2 options, but finally find "the one."
It's black, medium sized, closes with a cute buckle, has month view, weekly view, addresses, appointments, etc.
This time, I'm going to stick with it, stay organized, find my own system, and use my new friend.
I am a lucky gal!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Driver’s Ed (circa 1925)
Stephanie and I were heading home after a fun afternoon of Corporate Challenge goodness. We did the Great Walk, showed support for the Special Olympians, and left feeling good about life in general. On our way home, we ran in to some unexpected traffic.
When faced with 2 exit ramps merging to lane, there is a certain expectation. 1 car for 1 car. You go, I go, etc.
So we were merging, listening to music, waiting for the cars in front of us to follow the "merging rules." It came our time. The car in front of us went, so we started to merge behind them.
But then we heard honking. Surely this is a mistake. Doesn't everyone know the rules? Your lane, my lane, your lane, my turn. I looked in my side view mirror to see a grandma and grandpa flipping us off with a shaky boney finger while honking.
Clearly there wasn't Driver's Ed in 1925 - So to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, I decide it is best to signal to him what merging looks like using hand gestures while mouthing "MERGING." Apparently this didn't help cause he flipped me off again.
Normally it probably would piss me off to have someone flip me off in traffic. But it was just too funny!!! Grandparents are supposed to bake you cookies, slip you money, and spoil you - not flip you off and try to run you off the road.
When faced with 2 exit ramps merging to lane, there is a certain expectation. 1 car for 1 car. You go, I go, etc.
So we were merging, listening to music, waiting for the cars in front of us to follow the "merging rules." It came our time. The car in front of us went, so we started to merge behind them.
But then we heard honking. Surely this is a mistake. Doesn't everyone know the rules? Your lane, my lane, your lane, my turn. I looked in my side view mirror to see a grandma and grandpa flipping us off with a shaky boney finger while honking.
Clearly there wasn't Driver's Ed in 1925 - So to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, I decide it is best to signal to him what merging looks like using hand gestures while mouthing "MERGING." Apparently this didn't help cause he flipped me off again.
Normally it probably would piss me off to have someone flip me off in traffic. But it was just too funny!!! Grandparents are supposed to bake you cookies, slip you money, and spoil you - not flip you off and try to run you off the road.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Are you wearing my heels?
I try to stay away from stereotypes, politics, fanatical obsessions. I went to Texas A&M for just about 4 years and for the most part resisted the brain washing that every school sucks but ours. For example, though the University of Texas will forever be t.u. I only recently started wearing orange or rust colors. (Though some people from A&M have threatened to cut me out of their lives for such offenses.)
However, there are a few jokes about the other school I find too funny to ignore. (especially as the proud recipient as the "F@g Hag 2004" tiara) Tonight at dinner, we saw something that absolutely fit the stereotypes.
A husband and wife were sitting on the patio with their toddler son. Mom blended in, probably wouldn't notice her except I thought her husband was either her hair dresser or coming out of the closet any day now. The saddest thing, is that their son was wearing head to toe Longhorn basketball stuff. As he's sucking his pacifier, he decided that he wanted to wear mom's heels. As mom and dad talked (and ignored their wandering son), mom slipped off her shoes and the toddler put them on one by one.
The son walked around the patio in mom's heels, neither parent objecting or paying attention.
Are the parents brainwashing him to be a fit for t.u.? Should I call child protective services so Johnny doesn't walk in the street wearing heels on his way to t.u.?
Or should I keep in touch with them so eventually I can borrow their son's shoes?
However, there are a few jokes about the other school I find too funny to ignore. (especially as the proud recipient as the "F@g Hag 2004" tiara) Tonight at dinner, we saw something that absolutely fit the stereotypes.
A husband and wife were sitting on the patio with their toddler son. Mom blended in, probably wouldn't notice her except I thought her husband was either her hair dresser or coming out of the closet any day now. The saddest thing, is that their son was wearing head to toe Longhorn basketball stuff. As he's sucking his pacifier, he decided that he wanted to wear mom's heels. As mom and dad talked (and ignored their wandering son), mom slipped off her shoes and the toddler put them on one by one.
The son walked around the patio in mom's heels, neither parent objecting or paying attention.
Are the parents brainwashing him to be a fit for t.u.? Should I call child protective services so Johnny doesn't walk in the street wearing heels on his way to t.u.?
Or should I keep in touch with them so eventually I can borrow their son's shoes?
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Ode to the CHI
You've heard the expression that dogs are man's best friend, and diamonds are the woman's best friend. But there is nothing quite like the bond between a woman and her flat iron.
I still remember the day I bought mine. It was a sunny, but cool summer day in Los Angeles. Jessica and I were shopping at some of the boutiques around town. We stumbled in to a beauty supply store. Little did I know that chance meeting would change my life.
There, on the top shelf, almost out of sight was the CHI. Yes, the CHI. The shop owner let me hold it for a bit, and after a while even offered to let me take it home for a special price.
For two years the CHI has given me flawless, straight, non-frizzy hair. It's seen me through long blond hair, short blond hair, and even the recent various shades of dark.
Over the past 3 months, CHI hasn't been feeling well. I've had to go so far as to rig the cord with duct tape so it turns on, but it still works hard for me.
I'm sad to announce that 6:00pm Saturday night, the CHI blipped its last blip of red "on light." Though I already have a temporary replacement, nothing will burn my hair in to submission quite like the CHI.
CHI, you will be missed.
I still remember the day I bought mine. It was a sunny, but cool summer day in Los Angeles. Jessica and I were shopping at some of the boutiques around town. We stumbled in to a beauty supply store. Little did I know that chance meeting would change my life.
There, on the top shelf, almost out of sight was the CHI. Yes, the CHI. The shop owner let me hold it for a bit, and after a while even offered to let me take it home for a special price.
For two years the CHI has given me flawless, straight, non-frizzy hair. It's seen me through long blond hair, short blond hair, and even the recent various shades of dark.
Over the past 3 months, CHI hasn't been feeling well. I've had to go so far as to rig the cord with duct tape so it turns on, but it still works hard for me.
I'm sad to announce that 6:00pm Saturday night, the CHI blipped its last blip of red "on light." Though I already have a temporary replacement, nothing will burn my hair in to submission quite like the CHI.
CHI, you will be missed.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Corporate Challenge 2007
Ah, yes. The smell of dirty gym socks, sweaty fat men, and out of shape cubicle monkeys attempting pitiful feats of athleticism.
Must be Corporate Challenge time!
We will be competing with other Richardson based companies for the coveted trophy. It benefits Special Olympics and draws a pretty good crowd.
This year I'm once again playing volleyball, and picked up a new "sport" called the Great Walk and a fancy Team Captain title (be jealous).
Tonight was our first volleyball practice. Now, as I've mentioned before, I've been working out a lot lately. Even had a personal trainer to kick me in to shape.
But I was sad to realize that I'm grossly out of volleyball shape. After the first hour, my forearms are swollen and tender. I can't lift my right arm from all the serving. I think I threw my back out trying to spike.
MB will be training from now until our game in October….but I might need friends to visit me in the hospital at this rate.
http://www.cor.net/CC/Homepage.html
Must be Corporate Challenge time!
We will be competing with other Richardson based companies for the coveted trophy. It benefits Special Olympics and draws a pretty good crowd.
This year I'm once again playing volleyball, and picked up a new "sport" called the Great Walk and a fancy Team Captain title (be jealous).
Tonight was our first volleyball practice. Now, as I've mentioned before, I've been working out a lot lately. Even had a personal trainer to kick me in to shape.
But I was sad to realize that I'm grossly out of volleyball shape. After the first hour, my forearms are swollen and tender. I can't lift my right arm from all the serving. I think I threw my back out trying to spike.
MB will be training from now until our game in October….but I might need friends to visit me in the hospital at this rate.
http://www.cor.net/CC/Homepage.html
Monday, August 6, 2007
It's the little things
When all is said and done, it's the little things in life that make me happy.
a hug from my dad
my mom letting me ramble on for hours
a phone call from an old friend
a progressing career
a friend saving me from airport boredom
a future visit to my sister
a great dinner with girlfriends
a fabulous weekend with Stephanie
a drunk dial from college buddies
a movie in bed (which usually equals a nap)
a stressful but sunny day
and a new haircut.
It's the little things that make me smile. Life is good!
a hug from my dad
my mom letting me ramble on for hours
a phone call from an old friend
a progressing career
a friend saving me from airport boredom
a future visit to my sister
a great dinner with girlfriends
a fabulous weekend with Stephanie
a drunk dial from college buddies
a movie in bed (which usually equals a nap)
a stressful but sunny day
and a new haircut.
It's the little things that make me smile. Life is good!
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Adventures with MB and Stephanie
This weekend started with a relaxing Friday at home. Finally watched the end of Batman Begins, and then moved to Inside Man. Both good movies – made for a wonderfully lazy night.
Saturday I cleaned, ran some errands, and met up with Stephanie. We started with some culture and went to the DMA. (Dallas Museum of Art) After a solid 45 minutes of all the culture we could handle, we rushed to the nearest mall to satisfy our inner Dallas chick needs. (Pitiful yes)
Our first stop was a store called Windsor. Seemingly innocent store, inexpensive, trendy, and all that.
Stephanie was the first one to be attacked by the lady who claimed to be from L.A with 2 sales girls in tow. We assumed she was the DM? She started gushing about Stephanie, calling her fabulous, what a hot body, etc. she moved to me. Again gushing about how fabulous we are.
Then she begins to throw clothes at the sales girls – "Stephanie will try this, she'll look smoking in this, hot in this, she'll love this…" After her girl had an armload of clothes she started with me. First she started grabbing pants in a size 6 (hahahahahahahahaha – cute.) then she started grabbing clothes that were so far from my taste or colors that look good on me. But I had no opinion apparently and was pushed in to a fitting room with all my hideous options.
I tried on some top that made me look like a Vegas floozy, capris that looked like knickers from a page boy, a baby doll top that made me look preggers, and a brown sweater that made me look ill. They put Stephanie in a sweet lace top (hahaha), skinny jeans, browns, and various items that were NOT her style.
As someone who has worked in retail since high school, this was a perfect example of "what not to do." We were attacked! Why? We were the only ones in the store that had this "personal shopper" experience. We had clothes thrown at us without anyone stopping to ask our taste, what we were looking for, what size we normally wear, etc. We ran out of the store as soon as the coast was clear and won't go back to that store again.
It was such a breath of fresh air to go to all the other stores in the mall and get ignored by the sales people, have to tackle someone to get a fitting room, and watch the cashiers force an awkward smile. Ah yes, it's good to live in Dallas!
Saturday I cleaned, ran some errands, and met up with Stephanie. We started with some culture and went to the DMA. (Dallas Museum of Art) After a solid 45 minutes of all the culture we could handle, we rushed to the nearest mall to satisfy our inner Dallas chick needs. (Pitiful yes)
Our first stop was a store called Windsor. Seemingly innocent store, inexpensive, trendy, and all that.
Stephanie was the first one to be attacked by the lady who claimed to be from L.A with 2 sales girls in tow. We assumed she was the DM? She started gushing about Stephanie, calling her fabulous, what a hot body, etc. she moved to me. Again gushing about how fabulous we are.
Then she begins to throw clothes at the sales girls – "Stephanie will try this, she'll look smoking in this, hot in this, she'll love this…" After her girl had an armload of clothes she started with me. First she started grabbing pants in a size 6 (hahahahahahahahaha – cute.) then she started grabbing clothes that were so far from my taste or colors that look good on me. But I had no opinion apparently and was pushed in to a fitting room with all my hideous options.
I tried on some top that made me look like a Vegas floozy, capris that looked like knickers from a page boy, a baby doll top that made me look preggers, and a brown sweater that made me look ill. They put Stephanie in a sweet lace top (hahaha), skinny jeans, browns, and various items that were NOT her style.
As someone who has worked in retail since high school, this was a perfect example of "what not to do." We were attacked! Why? We were the only ones in the store that had this "personal shopper" experience. We had clothes thrown at us without anyone stopping to ask our taste, what we were looking for, what size we normally wear, etc. We ran out of the store as soon as the coast was clear and won't go back to that store again.
It was such a breath of fresh air to go to all the other stores in the mall and get ignored by the sales people, have to tackle someone to get a fitting room, and watch the cashiers force an awkward smile. Ah yes, it's good to live in Dallas!
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