A while ago Ian asked me why there is a Mother’s Day. This morning, I thought of a good answer.
Because…I am up at 5:45 AM every day even though I would prefer to be a night owl.
Because…I stand by patiently (most days) while you and your brother examine all five boxes of cereal to pick out your correct breakfast choice.
Because while cutting pickles for your sack lunch, I am also dancing with your brother to the Beatles.
And I do all of this before my first cup of coffee.
I just spent the last 20 minutes using this Facebook Like Count Calculator. Basically, you enter a url to your web page, blog page, your neighbor’s blog page, your business competitor’s web page, and it returns how many times the page has been shared/liked/commented on by Facebook users.
This kind of think appeals to my competitive side ( my site has more likes than yours) and my number crunching alter ego which likes to put a number to most things so that changes can be tracked.
But other than satisfying my curiosity, I don’t think I will be using this too much in the future.
As a kid I was impressed with Portland, Oregon….can’t wait to experience it as an adult!
Tonight Jim and I went on a date. This happens only a couple of times a year, so it is a big deal. After a leisurely meal sitting outdoors at the Wicked Hop, I was itching to go to the casino.
Once I get past the ghostly palor of the people exiting the casino and arrive in the lobby, I get a giddy happy feeling. As Jim was doling out $5 dollars to each of us, I was trying to figure out why the casino makes me so happy.
Here is what I came up with:
Free soda (for my inner child) + second-hand smoke (takes me back to my childhood) + risk / reward opportunities (I love a good risk) + Dance Party Game (my game of choice) = CASINO LOVE
P.S. Started with $10, hit a high of $60, played for an hour more… finished with $2 more than we started with:)
Back when I worked a corporate job, I remember one of my co-workers telling me about how she sent out a mass email to the entire company with word pubic in it. Her email was meant to enlighten the company on the new shared public folders, however she left out the “l” and spell check had nothing to say about it.
It is really easy to unintentionally offend someone with our numerous communications. That is why I love this simple tool to help you make sure you are not accidentally offending people with your email subject lines. Each email application shortens subject lines at different lengths. Depending on where it truncates, you could be left with some interesting and choice words. Thanks Mark Brownlow for this info and tool that I now use frequently.
It’s crazy how over time things that were once mortifying can become favorite memories. Fifteen years ago, today, I was married. No, marrying my husband wasn’t mortifying. Rather, some of the moments at the reception were . Now, I look back on these memories and they are my favorites. Surprisingly enough I also want to share them with others….so here goes.
The Slotted Spoon
Our wedding budget was next to nothing, and thanks to ingenuity and family, we were able to pull off our wedding. Of course, my biggest embarrassment was that we weren’t using real plates and silver ware. I knew the food would taste great (thanks to my Uncle Jim) but it just wasn’t going to feel as nice because of the way it was being served. In the end, I really had no choice, so I forged ahead. To compensate, I decided that the Hors d’oeuvres table would be classy. You know, tooth picks in every piece of cheese, etc.
Fast forward to the wedding day….Jim and I are walking into the reception hall and I am looking around at all the smiling faces. I notice someone at the appetizer table and to my horror they are scooping mounds of cheese curds on to their plate with a large slotted spoon. After 5 beers (out of plastic cups), it didn’t seem as bad. After 15 years, it makes me smile and my kids use that same slotted spoon in their sandbox.
I started thinking about how many miles the ingredients in my dinner had to travel to get to my dinner plate in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I didn’t think it would be too many considering a couple of the ingredients were from my garden. Then I looked at the origin of my orange pepper — Chile! That pepper had to come 5400 miles to my plate — so much for eating foods close to the source.
Kristin's Brain 