category: Uncategorized

Easy as 1-2-3

January 15th, 2010 @ 9:56 am | Comments (1)
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My mom has always been a counter when it comes to child discipline. She could put the fear of God in my sisters and me with the first “Wwww” before going on to nnne. (Because she liked to let anticipation build.) Which is why I couldn’t help but laugh when she was trying to discipline my nephew D.

“D, pick up your toys now.”

“No.”

“Pick them up, please.”

“No.”

“D, wwwwwwwwone… twwwwwooo-”

“Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine!”

He hasn’t quite mastered ten.

Suffice it to say he didn’t pick up his toys.

But I do appreciate cute men no matter their professions

November 4th, 2009 @ 10:17 pm | Comments (1)
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You know how there are some days (weeks?) at work that make you wonder why you’re doing this? Are you competent? Are you working hard enough? Could you make better money elsewhere? Why are your coworkers so ridiculous? With this economy, leaving a steady, respectable job is daunting.

And then there are those magical days that make you realize it’s not so bad.

Today I had a meeting with football team that rhymes with Smaltimore Smavens. Over the past month or so I’ve had the opportunity to meet with two other teams as we work on a huge project to tackle (ha!) childhood obesity. Meeting with these teams is kind of wasted on me - I’m not a huge sports fan. Sure, I’m always up for a good social function around a sporting event but that’s usually for the alcohol. I think athletic interest is imparted by your parents which my parents never encouraged. I grew up on a sole proprietor dairy farm and my parents were too busy, and we lived too far away, so we weren’t allowed to participate in organized sports.

Anyway, I’m not a huge sports fan but I can still appreciate the experience I had today (and that it was kind of wasted on me). We were invited to the team’s practice facility, which a colleague described as Hogwarts from Harry Potter. Gorgeous. After the meeting, we ate lunch in the team’s cafeteria during which the PRESIDENT of the TEAM sat with us.  Then toured the facility. We checked out the locker room (those boys are messy!), met the equipment manager (the players wear new shoes each game - they go through 1,000 pairs of shoes a year), toured the weight room, hung out in the team lounge, and watched some of this afternoon’s practice.

Was I bragging when I updated my Facebook status with, “Just ate lunch with the president of the Smavens.”? Are you a Smavens fan? Do you ever have magical opportunities at work? Do you ever feel incompetent? Anyone from the Smavens want to hire me? (Employees get free food, access to the team’s gym, free fitness classes and a posh office. And to meet with me.) (Also, there was a sign on the front door that said if you have flu-like symptoms, you weren’t allowed in the building.)

PS - A couple weeks ago, I wore TWO Super Bowl rings.

Freeze

January 29th, 2009 @ 8:40 pm | Comments (0)
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When the all-call came out for a company-wide state of the union meeting, I knew things were bad. As the CEO went through cost savings measures being implemented, one of the first things on the list was a salary freeze - no raises for this year. As I mentally composed a ranting blog post, I thumbed through unread messages on my BlackBerry and learned a rock star on the Philly PR scene was just laid off.

It could be much, much worse than not making 2.5 percent more.

Choosing Wine is Easier

January 7th, 2009 @ 4:30 pm | Comments (3)
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“I’m getting a Blackberry next year,” I said at a family Christmas party.

“What’s that? A wine?” said my farmer father.

I have 10 minutes to choose either a Motorola Q or a BlackBerry Curve. What would you do?

If it helps you decide, I don’t think they’ll let me get the Curve in pink.

Recipe for bland

December 8th, 2008 @ 9:26 pm | Comments (3)
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I just spent HOURS scouring the Internet and pouring through cookbooks to come up with the perfect recipes for a potluck I’m going to tomorrow night. What am I going to make? Chocolate cream pie and a pasta bake. I? Am boring and indecisive and afraid of trying new things.

I’m also supposed to make cookies to donate to a local children’s home. My contribution is going to be peanut blossoms.

Tell me, what is your favorite potluck recipe? Christmas cookie? Dessert?

Perspective

December 6th, 2008 @ 1:26 pm | Comments (2)
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After telling my sister she was stupid, I went to the movies with my other sister, Bim, and her mother-in-law. On the way, we talked about what I said and sibling relationships. Joan  told us stories about how she used tears to manipulate her sons to make up after a fight because life is too short to be mad at your sibling. Her mother and brother died in separate car accidents and that changed her perspective.

Bim and I were supposed to meet this morning to drive to a wedding in western Pennsylvania. Because bad weather was forecast, she was supposed to call me before 7 a.m. to let me know if the trip was still on. Her in-laws and husband were afraid the roads would be too bad. She didn’t call and I tried calling her for more than an hour. My paranoid mind leaped to a problem with her pregnancy, but as I was about to give up, she answered - our plans were still on. As Shazaam’s boyfriend and I were about to merge onto the Turnpike, Bim called sobbing.

Her brother-in-law was killed in a car accident early this morning in Pittsburgh. Details about the accident are still sketchy, but someone is in custody in connection with the crash.

I didn’t know Adam that well. I first met him before Bim started dating his brother, at my soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law’s 21st birthday party. I thought he was soooo cute. There was the time we went snowmobiling at their family’s mountain house. And of course the wedding, in which he was the best man. His toast was a hit, but his self-consciousness made him seek out reassurance that it was good. (And then when he helped my cousin push her car from the mud, I’m pretty sure they hooked up in the back seat.) And just last weekend, I sat beside him when we saw Four Christmases.

Adam was the miracle child. He’s six years younger than my BIL and they were all fiercely protective of him.

Please keep my sister’s family in your thoughts and prayers. And tell your siblings how much you love them.

New York, New York

September 17th, 2008 @ 10:22 am | Comments (2)
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I’m sitting in the live! studio! audience! at the Martha Stewart Show. I’m sitting next to GeminiGirl.  We’ve already won two free things: a book and a calendar. Mistook Meg Frost for Heather Armstrong-oops! Can’t wait to see what’s to come. She’s talking with Perez Hilton right now.

He’s kind of a big deal

August 26th, 2008 @ 8:04 pm | Comments (3)
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I hate waiting in lines. It will go down eventually and unless there’s an item or event about to expire, I usually prefer to sit in a comfortable chair until only a few people are in the queue.

When I flew to Portland, Maine, it was like an alternate universe. The parking shuttle waited for me; I looked around suspiciously to make sure I was in the right airline because the check in was vacant; and there were TWO people before me in security. Two!

I found a seat at the gate and lingered even after my zone four companions and I were paged to board. Standing in line, juggling heavy, bulky carry on items is my idea hell.

As I walked the aisle to my seat near the back, I saw a familiar face in my row. I had never had a celebrity encounter before but there, sitting in the seat next to me, was Josh Blue from Last Comic Standing. I tried to play it cool, but playing it cool for me usually means acting really snobby and ignoring the other person. But then he tucked a picture of a baby boy in the corner of his tray table to try to make conversation. Who can resist a baby? Soulless people, that’s who. So I asked if the boy was his son and thus began our two hour conversation. He told me about playing in the Paralympics and being multilingual, I told him about milking cows.

If you see a Josh Blue show and he talks about a girl who talked about milk, let me know. I think I might have earned myself a spot in a comedy routine.

********************************************************************** ********************************************

I started this post a long time ago. Like so many bloggers right now, the beautiful August weather is zapping my creativity. However! I just won the I Spy contest hosted by the lovely Quirky at Quirky and Mr. Talented! That calls for a celebratory (and celebrity) post.

PomJob’s Excellent Chicago Adventure

August 15th, 2008 @ 1:33 pm | Comments (4)
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I learned yesterday that Chicago PomJob is much more fun than regular PomJob.

When she found out that I was spending additional time in Chicago after our training, my colleague S invited me to her home and then we went to Wicker Park for dinner. (In case you’re wondering, the Wicker Park dog park smells like a chicken coup.) After debating the merits of delicious sangria versus a novel of beer options, we decided to head to People to introduce me to the world of tapas. How have I lived 27 years without tapas in my life? It was divine. I tried many new things: sheep’s milk cheese, goat’s milk cheese, mango chutney and spaghetti squash cakes.

Speaking of 27, as we enjoyed a bottle of wine at S’s house before dinner, the subject of age arose and S stated/questioned whether I was around the same age as her and M, right? I knew I was several years younger but as I was trying to tactfully correct her, she said, “You’re what, 34?” Um. Yikes.

After two carafes of sangria, several plates of food and great conversation, we interrupted a kickball league celebration at the bar next door. When they lined up for a game of flip cup, I almost asked to join in. After a beer, M and S said their goodbyes and I headed for the L to head back to my hotel. At the fare machine I realized I only had a $10 and a $20 and I didn’t really want to put it all on a card. The info booth doesn’t give change, so I went back outside to the Blue Line Lounge. I couldn’t just ask for change, so I ordered a scrumptious social mojito and became engrossed in the Olympic gymnastic competition.

The regular me would never go to a bar by myself. I over think it - people will think I look like a loser; I won’t have anyone to talk to. But that’s the beauty of having a few drinks first, my inhibitions were lowered. Almost immediately, the guy sitting two barstools over starting analyzing the Olympics then a couple sat on my other side and we started chatting (oxymoron of the night: they guy’s name is Little John and he’s probably 6′4″). That’s when I discovered the Blue Line has board games! At this point, Olympics Announcer tells me he’s married to one of the bartenders but he paid for his drinks and left without saying bye to her. I don’t know if I believe him but why would be lie about it?

One mojito turned into two as a group of friends came in and I pointed out the board games. I challenged them to Candyland then we broke out Taboo. Two a.m. rolled around and the bar’s lights came up. The group headed back to the bar where I had already had a beer but I took my sweet time paying my tab so I could avoid having to rebuff the advances of my Taboo teammate who made suggestive comments throughout the game.

I finally had change for the L but unfortunately it doesn’t run very often that late and P.S.? Chicago gets chilly at night. After about 30 minutes of sitting next to a woman who I am pretty sure is a prostitute and her pimp, I started pacing the platform so I wouldn’t pass out on the bench. That’s when I met a HOT surgeon who was in town to take some kind of surgeon test. And then the L decided to show up.

The only downside to lowered inhibitions is the lowered sense of safety. Is it smart to run around a strange town by yourself and talk to strangers who offer candy-flavored drinks? Probably not but I survived and had a blast. Although now I do have an awesome script in mind for an episode of “Without a Trace.”

Do Good One Sip at a Time

August 7th, 2008 @ 6:59 am | Comments (1)
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Remember how Yoplait has that “Save Lids to Save Lives” campaign where it donates money to breast cancer research for every yogurt lid returned? Now you can drink beer to help fund research to save the quality of live of those afflicted with muscular dystrophy. Miller Lite has a “Cash for Caps” program.

“Caps for cash” sums up
Miller Brewing fundraiser

Miller Brewing, an MDA national sponsor, has stepped up its support of the battle against muscular dystrophy and other neuromuscular diseases. As part of its “Better. Bolder. Summer.” promotion, Miller will donate 10 cents to MDA for every Miller Lite bottle cap collected through Sept. 1.

Miller Lite drinkers can turn in their bottle caps to Miller retailer outlets or send them via mail. Eventually, all caps will wind up in Milwaukee in late August for Harley-Davidson Motor Company’s celebration of its 105th anniversary. Miller is the official beer sponsor of that event, which is especially fitting because Harley-Davidson also is one of MDA’s longtime national sponsors.

30 by 30

July 8th, 2008 @ 6:39 pm | Comments (0)
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I’ve fallen off the exercise bandwagon. First it was the sore hip that made it painful to walk for two weeks. Then I broke a toe. Then I got a cold. Toss in a week and a half of traveling and it had been a long time since I worked out, probably the longest stretch since I decided to lose weight two and a half years ago.

I mulled this over this weekend and decided to do something to get back on track. I’ve worked hard to lose 65 pounds and it’s oh-so-easy to regain weight.

My birthday is coming up, on July 30. At first I thought I’d come up with a list of 30 things to do on or by July 30. But 30 things is a lot and I’m kind of lazy. And busy… life gets in the way sometimes. Instead I decided to run 30 miles by July 30. I started yesterday; only 27 more miles to go!

Too bad I didn’t decide to eat 30 ice cream sundaes by July 30. I’m closer to that than 30 miles.

What do you want to do before July 30? (Besides buy me a pretty present.)

Big, Fat Zero

June 20th, 2008 @ 7:55 pm | Comments (0)
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I was chatting with a couple of 40-something coworkers while we waited for the clock to strike 11 and our tour would begin. Someone brought up weight loss and gain, and after being reprimanded again by one for losing to much weight, another tells a story about her two daughters. One recently graduated from high school and put on a few pounds since she stopped cheer leading. The younger daughter picked out a pair of shorts for her sister but even though they were a size bigger than she normally wore, the shorts were too tight and my coworker was going to make the girls return them.

So the soon-to-be college freshman decided to cut out the mindless eating and tried the shorts back on after two weeks.

“I couldn’t believe it,” coworker said. “After cutting out what little extra food she ate, she’d lost that weight and the shorts fit perfectly.

“Although she is a little upset that the shorts are a zero. She used to be a double-zero.”

I was so excited the first time I put on a pair of zero pants, even with the one in front of said zero.

Why my middle name is Grace

June 10th, 2008 @ 5:46 pm | Comments (0)
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A Jeep rushed down the farm lane kicking up clouds of dust in its wake. I spot it and rush across the verdant grass to direct the driver to a parking spot out of the way of forklifts and tractors. I smile at the reporter walking toward me and suddenly the Earth is rushing at me.

We were gathered to commence the final stage of a major project at work. On a dairy farm. During the early June heatwave. My task of the moment was to keep the cars out of the way of the farm’s daily operations.

As I pranced across the front yard of the mustard-colored farmhouse, my right foot found a round hole bored into the slight hillside bordering the lane. I went flying into the lane, sliding on my elbow, hip and knee, successfully covering my right side in beige dirt that becomes speckled with red blood. In front of two reporters, three coworkers and various and sundry onlookers.

Luckily the guy in the Jeep was the photographer and he was too busy parking next to the other cars to capture my fall with(out) grace on film (or digital, in this day and age).

What did you do to embarrass yourself today?

PS-My middle name isn’t Grace, but it would fit. I’m currently sporting a bruise on my left hip from when I ran into the kitchen doorway yesterday as I tried to squeeze past the cleaning man, swollen toes on my left foot from when I jammed them into the ottoman in my living room, a scratch from the mini-blind that attacked me, unexplained bruises on my left knee and right thigh and the bruises and gravel pockmarks from today’s incident.

Beggars are Choosers

June 3rd, 2008 @ 6:39 pm | Comments (0)
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Molly wrote a post today praising her Momma and listing 100 things she’s learned from her.

9. Sometimes ice cream before dinner is OK.

June is National Dairy Month, today I helped create a 90-gallon ice cream sundae to commemorate one of the best holidays ever. (I don’t agree with Molly’s #40.) I think I’ve successfully ruined a pair of khaki capris and I kind of smell like warm milk.

The best part of the day was observing the inane things people do when you hand out free stuff. First, a bottled tea company decided to crash our event and hand out cans of their newest tea to our audience. During Dairy Month! For which another company that has a successful and popular line of teas donated ice cream and toppings!

Our servings were VERY generous (too generous in my opinion) but people kept asking for smaller dishes. And they asked if we could possibly give them another flavor, they don’t like vanilla. Or could you please find me some caramel? It’s my favorite topping, I’m not much for chocolate or strawberry. And could you ditch the pecans next year? I’m allergic. I’m betting next year someone asks us to include a disclaimer: Allergy Alert! This ice cream sundae contains milk.

People, people. It’s free. Eat it and like it. And please repeat, it pays my bills.

As the special people made opening comments, a man wearing a priest’s collar tapped me on the shoulder to ask if he could possibly get a sundae before everyone else because he had a meeting in a few minutes. We hadn’t even finished constructing the sundae and there was a group of 50 elementary students standing right beside him that probably would have rioted had I given him ice cream but not them. I denied a man of the cloth ice cream. I’m probably going to hell.

But my, that ice cream before lunch was delicious!

Little Suzie

May 14th, 2008 @ 8:20 pm | Comments (0)
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suz at wedding

Originally uploaded by JPom1

You sounded remarkably coherent when I called you a few hours ago to make sure you survived last night with the Captain. Your favorite shot was the Red Headed Slut but I would have cautioned against the cherry Long Island iced tea you chose as a chaser.

You’ve blossomed from my knock-kneed, lazy-eyed, lisping baby sister into a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I’m so proud of you and love you with all my heart. (Although you might kill me if you ever find this post.)

Happy 21st birthday, Little Suzie!

The Doctor is In

May 11th, 2008 @ 6:52 am | Comments (0)
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Have you ever had to turn off Dr. Phil because the daily topic hit a little too close to home and you just couldn’t handle listening to what he said when someone you love is doing the exact opposite of his advice but won’t listen to anyone?

Lucky Me

March 17th, 2008 @ 6:15 pm | Comments (0)
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I don’t think I have much, if any, Irish heritage, not matter what my freckles and hair-that-will-not-color-any-shade-that-is-not-red hair may make you think. But Philadelphia sure does love its St. Patrick’s Day, so I say, “When in Rome…”

I’m lucky because:

  • I have a comfortable bed, heat, running water and enough money to buy all the food I want to eat.
  • A loving family, including my delicious nephew.
  • A job that I enjoy, about which I’m passionate, and in which I believe.
  • Friends across the country who care about me.
  • A reliable car and money to put fuel in the tank.
  • The energy and ability to run a couple miles after work.
  •  Television to entertain me and books to feed my mind.
  • Cute polka dotted boots to keep my feet dry.
  • Pretty pictures to help me remember the best times.

What makes you lucky?

Burning Questions

March 6th, 2008 @ 12:00 pm | Comments (0)
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I’m trying to get a consumer’s perspective on dairy farming for a work project. Since I grew up on a dairy farm and know a lot about it, I’m trying to gauge what consumers want to know about on-farm practices. What are some questions you have about dairy farming? Do you want to know what cows eat? Where they sleep? How long before the milk is taken to the processing plant? Thanks for your help!

I’m Here for the Party

March 5th, 2008 @ 10:03 am | Comments (0)
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No hat

Originally uploaded by JPom1

Things I learned at my nephew’s first birthday party:
1. He’s not a fan of birthday hats. I am. He is strong-willed and won.
2. My sister will probably never be named Party Planner of the Year.
3. It’s not much fun to watch cranky babies open presents.
4. Cranky babies do not like kisses.
5. Babies have lightening-fast mood swings.

Happy birthday, Little Man!

I’m Here for the Party

March 5th, 2008 @ 10:03 am | Comments (0)
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No hat

Originally uploaded by JPom1

Things I learned at my nephew’s first birthday party:
1. He’s not a fan of birthday hats. I am. He is strong-willed and won.
2. My sister will probably never be named Party Planner of the Year.
3. It’s not much fun to watch cranky babies open presents.
4. Cranky babies do not like kisses.
5. Babies have lightening-fast mood swings.

Happy birthday, Little Man!

Free Falling

March 3rd, 2008 @ 8:53 pm | Comments (0)
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I’m having a really hard time reconciling how I’m supposed to feel about something with how I can’t help feel about that something.

Someone very close to me forged a friendship with a coworker that appears to have crossed boundaries.  I recently attended an interpersonal communications class that taught me to ASK why someone didn’t say good morning to me, instead of ASSUMING that that person was mad at me and what did I do and why is that person so sensitive, blah blah blah. Ask, don’t jump to conclusions, was the moral of the story. But I can’t ask what I think I need to know.

That’s what I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around. This person’s actions do not affect me, not directly. My life isn’t affected. But the lives of people I care about are affected. The Bible says we shouldn’t cast stones unless we are sinless. I’m far from sinless. But I still want to throw stones at this person for being do damn dumb. I can’t ask, so I’m jumping. I’ve lost respect for this person. I caught this person I love in a lie that begs for conclusion jumping. My stomach is in knots and I can’t stop the images running through my mind.

The lesson I’ve learned from this mess is this: You don’t lie when you have nothing to hide.

How Do You Measure a Year?

February 26th, 2008 @ 5:55 pm | Comments (0)
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Aunt Jess

Originally uploaded by JPom1

525,600 minutes. When I was thinking about the approach I would take to write this post to commemorate your first birthday, the song my sorority sang one year for Greek Sing popped into my head from the part of my brain that allows me to retain show tune lyrics but not important, practical information like state capitals. I can’t believe a year has passed since that 4 a.m. phone call from your Nana telling me that you were finally on the way, or the follow up 4:45 a.m. phone call that Poppaw placed to me, as I was battling the snowflakes attempting to slow me down, telling me you were there.

You are the sweetest little boy ever. Seriously. You barely cried as a newborn, broke with first tooth with incredible pain tolerance, and wobble around trying to take your first real steps with an innocent smile that makes my heart melt. And don’t get me started about how you said my name last weekend. (You know which aunt already started a savings account for you.)

You love to play with your tractors and trucks, you love to be outside, you love to smile and you love to explore (especially cabinets… Nana’s not so good at childproofing). Not much gets you down, although you are stubborn and hate to be contained. I’m just saying, sometimes we have to change your diaper.

So happy birthday, Little Man. I love you so much. My life is better because you’re in it. I’m looking forward to the next 525,600,000,000,000,000 minutes.

Love,
Aunt Dess

Overheard

February 25th, 2008 @ 9:15 pm | Comments (0)
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Now I understand why my mother didn’t allow us to have indoor pets as children. They make horrible noises when trying to extract hairballs from their bodies. I’m hoping I can soon find a new home so I don’t ever have to hear my roommate’s cat cough up a hairball again.

Sweet Potato Bean Soup

February 24th, 2008 @ 10:01 pm | Comments (0)
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But first, I hate hiccups.

Carrying on. I found this recipe in a cookbook and decided to try it. I LOVED it! I don’t eat most meats and I’m always on the lookout for good recipes. It was a sunny, chilly winter day, perfect for a hearty soup. I was hungry after the gym, but the soup didn’t take that long to throw together, and it really hit the spot. Hope you enjoy!

Sweet Potato Bean Soup (from Taste of Home) 

Ingredients:

  • 1 medium sweet potato, peeled and cubed
  • 1 small green pepper, chopped
  • 1 small onion, chopped
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 teaspoon minced fresh cilantro
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 can (15 ounces) black beans, rinsed and drained
  • 1 can (14-3/4 ounces) whole kernel corn, drained
  • 2 cups water
  • 1 can (8 ounces) tomato sauce
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon pepper
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced
  • 1 plum tomato, seeded and chopped

Directions

Place sweet potato in a small saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and cook for 13-18 minutes or until tender. Drain, reserving 1/4 cup liquid. Cool slightly. Place sweet potato and reserved liquid in a blender or food processor; cover and process until smooth. Set aside.
    In a small saucepan coated with cooking spray, cook the green pepper, onion and garlic until almost tender. Stir in cilantro and cumin; cook and stir until vegetables are tender. Add the beans, corn, water, tomato sauce, salt, pepper and reserved sweet potato puree; heat through. Garnish with green onions and tomato. Yield: 4 servings.

Notes: I sauteed the onions, garlic and peppers in EVOO… not sure how it would work with just non-stick cooking spray. I ignored the garnish, because I didn’t have the ingredients, and used just a sprinkle of cilantro, because I’m not a big fan. As they made it, a 1.5-cup serving is just 224 calories!

It was delicious! I’m looking forward to leftovers for this week.

Independent

February 22nd, 2008 @ 6:30 pm | Comments (0)
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I’ve always been an independent person. I can eat, watch a movie, shop alone, without giving it a second thought. I moved to Philadelphia a little more than a year ago and haven’t yet developed a group of friends, or even one or two, that I can draft into doing fun things around the town. I am a member of my sorority’s alumnae chapter, and we have fun social outings several times a month, but outside that I don’t have many social outlets.

I was a joiner in high school and college. Band, musical, yearbook, sorority, Panhel, newspaper, TV station, radio station, etc. I had a built-in set of friends, even if I wasn’t close with all of them. But when shoved into the real world, in a new city, in an office with only about 15 people (of which most are older than 40), how do you go about making friends? I know it’s about getting out, but it’s so intimidating to go to something by yourself for the first time. And let’s not even talk about dating. Any advice?

On an unrelated note, is anyone else psyched about tomorrow night’s SNL? Maybe it is related, because I’ll be at home, watching TV, on a Saturday night. Hmmmm…

Brevity

February 21st, 2008 @ 8:32 pm | Comments (0)
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As a “professional” writer, I hear time and time again to cut, cut, cut my copy. Attention spans are short and it’s my job to tell our story as quickly and precisely as possible. Janet had a neat idea on her blog: post your life in six words. Here’s a glimpse into my life, in six words:

Still waiting for my prince charming.

Doesn’t know when to shut up.

Known to cry over spilled milk.

So many dreams, so little money.

No, I do not play basketball.

Oldest of four daughters; one bathroom.

Salary paid with REAL milk money.

From first capital to Independence City.

This dairy princess loves Dairy Queen.

Your turn!

Link for 2.20.08

February 20th, 2008 @ 8:46 pm | Comments (0)
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Greek Tragedy by Jennsylvania

As a sorority girl, I appreciate what Jen was trying to convey as rush chairman. Here’s to all the sorority ladies currently suffering through recruitment.

“Obviously we don’t want to present ourselves as something we are not, BUT we do want to make a good impression.”

On notice: Snot

February 20th, 2008 @ 3:53 pm | Comments (0)
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I’m sure parents all over ask themselves this question all the time: How can one body produce so much snot in such a short period of time?

I’ve been sick for more than a week now and it’s a sickness unlike any other. It started off as a sore throat and progressed to extreme nasal congestion that WON’T. GO. AWAY. I seriously blow my nose and two minutes later it’s time to blow again. My coworkers really appreciate that about me. (I’m not a quiet blower.) And there’s a half-hearted cough that goes along with it every hour or so, but it’s more of a clear-my-throat cough.

And remember how a couple days ago I was all rah! rah! I lost 60 pounds? Haven’t been to the gym since I got sick. I keep telling myself my body needs to rest to recuperate. I don’t think I’m buying that anymore. Does anyone have any motivation to share?

Another hit

February 18th, 2008 @ 1:28 pm | Comments (0)
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“Hey there, sweetie. It’s Steve. Is your sister there?”

 ”No,” I replied. it’s 8 p.m. on a Saturday. She’s at home with her husband and child.

“Can I take a message?”

“Well, I just wanted to turn in my hours for the week.”

“Okay, you can tell me and I’ll leave her a note.”

“Okay. Hey, so I was wondering. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Shit.

“Well, kind of.”

“Okay, well, I don’t want to cause problems or anything. But I think you’re a real sweet girl and I get lonely, well not really lonely but I am alone and all, and I just thought it would be cool for us to get dinner sometime. Maybe coffee?”

Shit.

“Well, thanks. That’s really nice.”

“Okay, well you let me know if you ever want to get coffee or anything. I’m not trying to cause problems, I just think you’re a real sweet girl. Okay, bye.”

Guess I’m going to have to find another 50-year-old mechanic who’s about to go to the big house for drunk driving to put the new tires on my car. Shit.

Two Years

February 16th, 2008 @ 2:23 am | Comments (0)
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Two years ago, I would walk in a bar and the 60-year-old with three teeth in the dark corner would be the only guy to hit on me.

Two weeks ago, I was walking down a street in San Antonio and a random, age appropriate, fully-toothed guy asked me out.

Two years ago, I decided to take charge of my appearance and confidence by getting off my butt and into the gym. I meant to post this on Valentine’s Day, because two years ago I came home from work, donned shorts and a t-shirt and went to the gym in my condo complex’s community building. I was tired of spending every Valentine’s Day alone.

After a very rough fall, I wanted to prove to some stupid guy that I was pretty enough to love. I thought the best way to show him that I am better than him was to lose weight. Although my motivators have since shifted, I got a charge when I ran into him with his pleasantly-plumper-than-me, live-in girlfriend six months later at the county fair (which I dragged him to, under duress, the year before). Best of all, he’s found all the weight I’d lost.

I can’t remember how far I went or how long I sweated, but I’m sure I started by struggling for one “lap” around the virtual track. Over time my running laps increased and my walking breaks shortened. That spring I completed the National Race for the Cure. It was one of the proudest days of my life.

 Two years ago, I weighed 60 pounds more than I do today.

I probably could have lost more than 60 pounds in the last two years, but I’m trying to keep it real. I have a very sweet tooth. I grew up on a dairy farm where it’s blasphemy to use margarine or white water (aka skim milk). I love pasta, so I won’t cut carbs. I believe in everything in moderation. I work out three times a week, running 3 miles each time. I still haven’t found love, and it’s hard to think that it might be my personality, not my appearance, that detracts men.

 Two years ago, I looked like this.

This year, I look like this.

It’s been a month and a half since we drafted this year’s resolutions and many have probably been long forgotten. If you need encouragement, please let me know — I’m an excellent cheerleader!  

Today, my partner in a continuing education class introduced me as his beautiful partner. Sure, he might have introduced the Mrs. Claus-doppelganger the same way had we been sitting in different seats, but it still made me grin and blush.

Though it started out as a way to prove something to someone else, this journey has helped me to realize that it really is what’s on the inside that counts but you have to have a healthy body to be happy. I had to lose weight for myself, not for some guy. This year, I had the best Valentine. My healthier self.

Some day…

February 14th, 2008 @ 9:42 pm | Comments (0)
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In the few minutes I’ve had to read blogs today, I’ve come across story after story that has given me chills or brought a team to my eye (sometimes both). Stories about how people fell in love, sometimes unexpectedly, or have had life-changing events take place on this day. And as I sit here eating ice cream and watching a CSI re-run, it gives me hope that some day, I might find that special someone, too. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

Let TV Watchers Rejoice!

February 11th, 2008 @ 9:24 am | Comments (0)
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My love of television is deeply ingrained in who I am. While most people picture farm kids running around, making hay forts and finding frogs in the nearby crick, I was perfectly content to snuggle into our itchy plaid couch and watch hours of television under a hand-crocheted afghan. It wasn’t until second grade (Valentine’s Day, if I recall. Candice spent the night and we listened to “Ice, Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice.) that cable made its way down our back country road.

 I don’t know why TV is such an integral part of my life. Maybe it was a chance to escape. Maybe I felt like the characters were the friends I didn’t have in real life. In any event, it was a well-known fact that I was a TV addict from a young age. Senior year of high school I took a TV production class to fill time and I loved it. That, combined with my experience as a real-life princess, motivated me to major in communications in college. I worked at the campus TV station for two years, before I decided that I didn’t like playing the political game that was campus broadcasting. After being forced into the harsh real world, I accepted a position on the studio crew on the local television news. I didn’t excel at it; one time I forgot to silence my cell phone, another I was playing solitaire on the Teleprompter computer and the computer froze and the script wouldn’t run at 10 p.m. on the dot. Whoops. It was too much of a hurry-up-and-wait career.

Whether it’s Barney and the gang on Mondays or the latest McDreamy drama on Thursdays, there’s usually something that I look forward to on prime-time TV. Until the strike. Although the strike has allowed me to catch up on episodes and series I missed.

It sounds like my nights will be filled again, and I couldn’t be happier. Welcome back, writers.

Because it’s not TV

February 7th, 2008 @ 6:42 pm | Comments (0)
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One of my goals for this year is to try to be a better person. It’s a common goal, I think; many people probably set this goal or resolution each year. With that in mind, yesterday I volunteered to help a coworker carry a box of measuring tapes from one meeting room to another, down a few stairs and a ramp. After stashing the box under the table at our booth, my coworker went to move her car, which she left parked in front of the exhibit area that morning when she unloaded her car. Seconds later she stomped back into the exhibit room.

“My damn battery’s dead,” she said.

“Well, I would give you jump, but I don’t have jumper cables,” I replied. “Good thing our company pays for AAA for us!”

“Oh, I have jumper cables!” So we hunt down my car, which was parked what felt like three miles away. I cleared the junk from the front seat and she jumps in.

Both being farm girls, we assumed we could easily figure out this car-jumping thing. I popped my hood, she hers. I identified the positive and negative terminals; she could only find her positive. That’s when we called in reinforcements in the form of men.

They figured out that you can ground the other cable on a piece of metal (I think, maybe you shouldn’t try this at home), and we started exchanging battery juice.

A few minutes later, a woman casually walks by and points out I have a FLAT TIRE!

Thank goodness one of the men had a portable air compressor just chilling in his car. So once my coworker’s car turned over, they hooked up the compressor to my deflated tire and 15 minutes later I rolled away on a heavily-inflated tire. Unfortunately, my coworker had rolled into a parking spot and promptly turned off her car. Her battery hadn’t sufficiently recharged. Who knew the striking writers were still writing sitcom scripts?

Lessons learned:

1. Turn off your flashers, or at least remember to move your car after unloading it.

2. You might be able to ground jumper cables on a piece of metal under your hood. Don’t take my word for it.

3. Don’t be afraid to flirt for help.

4. Check your tires before you drive from Philadelphia to Lancaster.

5. Don’t turn off your car right after you get a jump.

A couple hours later I kicked my tire and it seemed like it was still okay. I headed for Philly and stopped half way to check my tire and purchase a portable air compressor and Fix-a-Flat. And windshield wipers because mine were a little streaky that morning.

Thank God great minds think alike. I guess they have the same goal for this year.

Because it’s not TV

February 7th, 2008 @ 6:42 pm | Comments (1)
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One of my goals for this year is to try to be a better person. It’s a common goal, I think; many people probably set this goal or resolution each year. With that in mind, yesterday I volunteered to help a coworker carry a box of measuring tapes from one meeting room to another, down a few stairs and a ramp. After stashing the box under the table at our booth, my coworker went to move her car, which she left parked in front of the exhibit area that morning when she unloaded her car. Seconds later she stomped back into the exhibit room.

“My damn battery’s dead,” she said.

“Well, I would give you jump, but I don’t have jumper cables,” I replied. “Good thing our company pays for AAA for us!”

“Oh, I have jumper cables!” So we hunt down my car, which was parked what felt like three miles away. I cleared the junk from the front seat and she jumps in.

Both being farm girls, we assumed we could easily figure out this car-jumping thing. I popped my hood, she hers. I identified the positive and negative terminals; she could only find her positive. That’s when we called in reinforcements in the form of men.

They figured out that you can ground the other cable on a piece of metal (I think, maybe you shouldn’t try this at home), and we started exchanging battery juice.

A few minutes later, a woman casually walks by and points out I have a FLAT TIRE!

Thank goodness one of the men had a portable air compressor just chilling in his car. So once my coworker’s car turned over, they hooked up the compressor to my deflated tire and 15 minutes later I rolled away on a heavily-inflated tire. Unfortunately, my coworker had rolled into a parking spot and promptly turned off her car. Her battery hadn’t sufficiently recharged. Who knew the striking writers were still writing sitcom scripts?

Lessons learned:

1. Turn off your flashers, or at least remember to move your car after unloading it.

2. You might be able to ground jumper cables on a piece of metal under your hood. Don’t take my word for it.

3. Don’t be afraid to flirt for help.

4. Check your tires before you drive from Philadelphia to Lancaster.

5. Don’t turn off your car right after you get a jump.

A couple hours later I kicked my tire and it seemed like it was still okay. I headed for Philly and stopped half way to check my tire and purchase a portable air compressor and Fix-a-Flat. And windshield wipers because mine were a little streaky that morning.

Thank God great minds think alike. I guess they have the same goal for this year.

About the Bowl

February 4th, 2008 @ 6:32 pm | Comments (0)
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From what I’ve observed from my years in agriculture, farm kids fall into two categories: the super-athletic kids, whose parents spend a lot of time running them to sporting events, and those whose parents don’t have time to run them around. I come from a long line of the former, so sports were never an important part of my life.

However, I am impressed by attractive men, so that’s usually how I pick the team to cheer. In my eyes, this year’s Super Bowl came down to Tom Brady versus Eli Manning. I picked Brady, thus I half-heartedly rooted for the Patriots when I flipped between Dexter, Shark and Cold Case. But my heart really belongs to Peyton and I must say there wasn’t anything more endearing than seeing the elated reaction of the elder Manning when Eli completed that touchdown pass that clinched the win for the Giants.

Either way, they’ve all appeared in got milk? ads, so they’re all okay in my book.

Small Talk

February 1st, 2008 @ 3:31 am | Comments (0)
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Picked up my name tag and walked into the room filled with rows of empty chairs. Women in skirts, heels and jewels. Men encased in jackets, light catching the balding spots. Me in my suit, clutching my purse, overcome with anxiety. It’s like the school cafeteria all over again. Where should I sit? There are a couple groups of people scattered throughout the room-should I join them? I decide to sit in the middle of an empty room, take my chances.

People filter in and seats are claimed on either side of me. The presentation starts and is over too quickly. The bar opens and silver lids are lifted from chafing dishes. Suited waiters make their way through the crowd, proffering beef wellington and spinach squares. I only know a couple people in the room by sight, but the one girl I worked with on a group project was immediately surrounded by a talkative group. Following the advice gleaned from Matched in Manhattan, I quickly entered the drink line and ordered the Kool Aid of wine, white zinfandel. I start chatting with the guy behind me and it’s smooth sailing from there.

 How do you deal with “networking socials?”