After a week of having a bookcase sitting squarely in the middle of my office (don't ask), yesterday the Grand Office Redesign of 2010 was completed. Basically I spent half the day wallowing and the other half realizing that my aversion to the work of getting reorganized was steadily being outweighed by the annoyance of HAVING A BOOKCASE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM OH MY GOD. Plus, you know, it was really stressing out the dog. The bookcase was creating a wall between the futon where she likes to snooze all day and the chair at my new desk, so she couldn't BOTH be a slug AND keep watch over...
I spent much of the weekend licking my wounds, except it was figurative, of course, which was a good thing, because if I'd been trying to LITERALLY lick anything on my body I might've screwed up my neck more than it was already screwed up. [Typical conversation with my chiropractor over the last few days: Her: Does this hurt? Me: IT ALL HURTS. Her: But does it hurt MORE? Me: Maybe. Can you make it hurt LESS? Or could you maybe just KILL ME?] So my neck was hurting and my ego was hurting and my everything-is-going-to-be-fine meter was freaking out and I figured I would just sulk for a few...
... dear Otto, dear Otto... a hole in my de-esk, dear Otto, a hole. Dear Otto. Dearest, darling Otto. He's the one putting holes in my desk, by the way. Okay, I probably need to back this up. When I first started freelancing, I marveled at the wonder of being able to make a job out of late nights spent hunched over my laptop in the middle of my bed. This is GENIUS, I thought! Who needs an office? Eventually, though, I moved operations down to a desk in our family room, lest I end up a chiropractor's dream. And as time went on, I dreamed of having an actual office; a room where I could...
So we have something of an ongoing saga happening here, and it's one of those things where I'm never quite sure how much to say and how much to just bite down VERY FIRMLY on my tongue, but suffice it to say that I was participating in a test drive program for some SUPERCOOL and VERY SHINY large objects upon which we rely for things like clean clothes and food free of botulism, and instead of being supremely awesome it has, instead, been a carnival of How Many Things Can Go Wrong? How About One More? No, How About Two More? Hey, You Didn't Want These To Work, Did You? Etc. And although I...
Excuse me for a moment, but I feel the need to share this because I'm just so darn excited about it. With all of the moaning and groaning in the blogosphere about ethics and integrity and "blogola," I feel like it's an old refrain that everyone is in charge of their own choices and knowing what allows them to sleep at night, etc. I get offered a lot of stuff I don't take. Last time I checked, there was no law stating you were obligated to accept everything offered to you. On the other hand, sometimes amazing opportunities come along. And I just finished up doing some (paid, yes---and fully...
Well, it's happening already. The deconstruction of BlogHer '09 and this years Drama Du Jours is in full force, and once again I am reminded of why I skipped this event for several years. I prefer my drama to be of the "he touched me!" or "she called me a name!" variety, you see; and while technically I suppose BlogHer presents opportunities for that sort of thing, as well, it's a lot easier to swallow when it comes from adorable minors rather than people who are supposedly adults, you know? I'm already reading posts about this, about how a few proverbial rotten apples are spoiling it for...
I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go make sure I packed underwear. You think I'm joking, but as we pulled out of the driveway last weekend and I started my traditional "I think I forgot something, I think I really forgot something this time" chant to Otto, he nodded and patted my knee, sanguinely, until we got to the end of the road and I started screeching, "WAIT! I DID! GO BACK!" Oh, I know what you're thinking---that I'd forgotten to pack underwear. But that would be silly. Of COURSE I'd packed underwear! No, I'd forgotten to pack bras. Oops. (In my defense, I'd just done laundry,...
Evidently I missed my calling as a financial advisor. I'm absolutely SUPER at it, by the way. Here goes: Don't spend what you don't have. You're welcome! If you require more information than that (so demanding), well, might I suggest this excellent article by the AP's Heather Lalley, which happens to feature some heavily-edited sound bites from yours truly. Alternatively, I can break it down for you into just five easy steps. And while we're talking about money... you do know about DonorsChoose, right? You can pick the project, the school, the teacher you want to support? It's a great...
I only watched half of the debate last night. The second half. I tried not to, because I knew it was just going to infuriate me, but then I couldn't stay away. Guess what? It infuriated me! Go figure! They're having a little problem with my section over at Scholastic, and I just discovered that my last two reviews aren't listed on the main page, although they are, in fact, there. So in case you want a little antidote to last night's lunacy---in the form of kid-sized politics---I've got you covered. Last week, we read LaRue for Mayor. And this week, we read Otto Runs for President. (Both...
