Thursday, August 21, 2008

Question and Answer time

Let's see if I can even remember all of them. Nope. So I get to ramble through what I remember.

My cutie pie nephew. (Who is the cutie little man in the limo)
Cause they're professionals. (How did your photographers capture all that emotion)
I threatened them. (How did you keep the girls on lockdown)
I plead the fifth (What was so funny in that one picture)
I'm going to go with "I don't know" (What was the little dude drinking?)
$15 - Pike Place Market (Amazing bouquet. Bet you had to pay a grip for that)
Co-Maids of Honor (You only had two chics with you. Who was MOH?)
My life. My joy (Who is the cutie in the wedding party--your pick as to which one *smile*)
I've got connex like that. Well he does. (Where in the heck did you find a wheat field in Downtown Seattle?)
Ivory w/champagne trim (So did you tell the white lie after all?)

Those are your ten for right now. More to come. Some day.

Totally excited that I get to go and hang with Liisa this Saturday. I can't wait. Wish money grew on trees so that I could help those who really need it. Mom, you always come through. I love you to pieces. Wish I had your new phone number (hint, hint). I FINALLY have some sense of calm at understanding just what it is that I do for a living right now. Thursday night...I'm going to miss the Olympics when they are over. Watched Generation Kill last night. Maybe he will have another episode for me tonight. Sick. Man. And speaking of sick men doing stuff for me, I love him so friggin' much. So much. Thanks for taking it to the bookcase. I promise I'll exchange the other one. Sometime. Soon.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

If I could...

...I would. Do it all over again. Yes. Even the planning. Link is in the previous post. You don't REALLY have to search for it...towards the bottom.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Three hours I will never get back

That's about what I feel about tonight. From waiting for 17 minutes (I kid you not) for the obnoxious woman to pull the frig out of her parking spot that I was going to wait and be patient and slow down no matter what to wait for. To waiting (and reading a whole story on how Mrs. Edwards could live through what this newly married woman just feels is the most unlivable humiliation in the world--thank you People. Or Us. Or whatever rag was on the aisle) for another 9 minutes while the checker with the woman in front of me slowly (very) checked through multiples (many of them) in this woman's basket by scanning each one. Separately. Some of them twice. All to get her 9 bazillion items scanned in. All so that I could get my one item scanned in (that will come back. Wait for it). To being checked at the door of Wal Mart of all places (because yeah, the only people stealing stuff out of the Renton Wal Mart are the sisters with a big old bookcase in the cart--receipt in hand). To not being able to call into the conference call and freaking out. To the point of making it home from said Renton Wal Mart in 11 minutes. And not speeding (well, not that much) the whole way. To getting home, calling into the new conference call number to find myself the second person online and the meeting cancelled because no one could call in. To finally sitting down to put together said bookcase from tonight's purchase (and Sunday's purchase with him in tow). Which meant I had to drag it UP three flights of stairs to my scrap room hallway.

Sat down. Ready with the directions. Had to go back down three flights of stairs to get screwdrivers and forget the hammer. Was humming along. Then for whatever reason, stuff stopped working right. Lack of Hammer I think. But since I used a much gentler tennis shoe with a much softer swing no problem right? Wrong. Flip shelves over. Crack. Loud crack. As in broken bolt thingy crack. As in "are you friggin' KIDDING ME?!" roared crack. As in Lost. My. Mind. crack.

As in "I just spent three hours that I will never get back". On nothing but crap tonight.

Happy productivity. At least I got my ballot in. Supposedly. It's in a drop box. I don't trust ballot drop boxes.

So to make myself happy, I went back to this link:

Happiness pill {aka wedding photos slideshow}

Enjoy (smile).

And on this day...

...I got a link. And in that link was something I cannot share. Not just yet. Well not with the masses. And it is killing me. So I shared it with anyone I knew for half a hot second.

Now I need to check all my bazzillion social networking sites and update them but my whole life was made sweeter for a lifetime in all of about 4 minutes this morning. wow.


I need a new camera. I guess the one I bounced off of the garage floor day before my wedding is no longer acceptable. But I think it takes neat pictures now so of course I'll keep it.

I want to scrapbook again. So I have it in my grand master plan to get off of work at 5 pm (which means I'll leave there at 7), stop by wal mart for one more set of shelves (it is called repurposing honey--not hoarding) and get home just in time to see him get home. And maybe have a page done. But definitely have my hard drive dumped onto this backup drive so that we can get my laptop set back up and I can begin the fun prospect of digital scrapping again.

It is good to have goals right?

Reminds me, I need to email those other two couples about a dinner. This weekend or next. And we need to go to Purple cafe. And I need to go get a massage at Habitude. And I still have a boatload (literally) of stuff to return (I tend to overbuy just to make sure I have enough...I need to break that habit) and upon those returns I think I will barely (just barely) have enough to buy my Dyson Animal. Which I go back and forth on. I'm about 99% positive if I ever bought something for "home" that I didn't find at Marshalls, Ross, Big Lots or some similarly cheap but looks good enough today type store, it would be all out straight to the wall top line vacuum cleaner that I personally will use...maybe...once. I don't clean. That we've established. But after talking about monthly cash flows here and later, I think I'll make a strong case for having a happy housekeeper some day. And if you think I'm serious with that last line, I have a great candidate for...okay. I can't go there. Keep it professional.

Speaking of professional. I want her. Really REALLY bad. Problem is that statement could apply to oh...SEVEN of the candidates we are looking at right now. Of course I have my faves but that is what it is.

Social networking sites. I'm off.

Friday, August 15, 2008

She lives

Barely. So you know what that means...

102 feeds 700+ nibbles to read. I have a love/hate relationship with Bloglines right now.
Diamonds are a girls' best friend--be that in a wedding band or top tier status. Thanks ATL.
I hate flying. In airplanes. Through Philly.
It is indeed a Miracle. Or a Merikle (smile).
I don't like feeling stupid/incompetent/overwhelemd/like a quitter.
Facilitating big meetings and asking the right questions is my forte. Stop fighting it.
Phone interviews rock. Just not back to back to back to back to back to...
Weddings in dry cities are comical. Or profitable depending on how you look at it.
Where has all the customer service gone?
Jamaica. Oh Jamaica. Oh sweet sailing, snorkeling, being with him all the time Jamaica.
I hate conflict. Almost as much as I hate being manipulated.
I love seeing people in their element. Especially people I have responsibility for.
My new job rocks the salt. Challenges are good--especially when you're pushed to excel.
Excel, exodus? I need my Liisa fix.
Ms. Co Maid of Honor--your photos had me bawling!
Auntie girl, your videos are the shizz!
Cousin wed, I saw you videotaping on the downlow so when you going to share? My photos. uh.
Way to pull off the lustful reading Mr. M, screech into the parking lot 2 minutes before go.
I liked mine better too just for the record.
I paid really great photographers good money to do their magic of making ugly pretty. wow!
And I should get to work.

I do still like blogging. And scrapping. And reading. Ther eare only 24 hours in a day and when most of those days are spent stuck in a real life version of Tom Hank's airport movie (seriously, dude, I know every nook and cranny of all terminals of the Philly airport), then those 24 hours go by excruciatingly slow. With no internet access or scrap materials on hand. Sigh.

Love you all that showed up in person, via phone calls or via cards to the shin dig. Really great getting to see some others of ya'll tossing away all your money on the Boardwalk. Definitely praying for others of you--most for legit "it isn't fair" reasons, but some of ya'll I'm praying for your soul cause you know you ain't right.

Now that the blog silence has effectively scared off the stalkers, let's get back to being real.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Goodness gracious

So much happened. Got married, got traveled, got stuck, got photos courtesy of Rachel.

Laughed my but off, now going to sleep. After I down a whole pack of chiclets.