My landlord, who happens to live above me and is 26 years old with a wife and child on the way, came down to fix the dangling light and flooded floors tonight.
As he was wrapping up, he casually says, "Oh..you know how I always tell you about our crazy neighbors?" (Background: When I first moved in he told me about a father/son team who live next door with questionable life-styles who both wanted to date me. I'll leave it at that. Understand...questionable.)
I get a little, let's say scared, but curious.
Turns out one of our other neighbors who lives across the street (and is also called "questionable" by my landlord - Glenn.) wants to take me out on a date. 
Obviously, I get this. I mean, what's not to love, right? But here's the puzzler. He's 22 years old. He moved out here because he knocked a girl up who now is not allowed to talk to him and is sequestered in her father's basement. Not necessarily relevant to the question or story, but interesting.
So riddle me this people: Why, after Glenn disclosed my shocking age, would this fella tell Glenn, "Look, I don't care about age. Just get her number and I'll take her out."??? 
One of the interesting phenomenon I'm discovering about being a mid-30's woman, is that the men who want you fall in one of two "card-carrying" categories: AARP or Brand new Driver's License. Never the men your age, or even within a five year range.
So obviously you all know I've got some theories, but I'm curious to hear yours. WHAT IS THIS ALL ABOUT??
In case you're curious, I told Glenn to tell our neighbor friend that I would certainly take him up on his offer as soon as he could prove to me that he was old enough to rent a car. I think that's respectable, right?
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Riddle me this...
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Frozen Delight
I love frozen bananas. When dipped in chocolate. I wish I loved plain frozen bananas because then I would be skinnier, but the fact is, the chocolate adds a LOT.
The good news is, I read an article in a magazine on the plane that this is a healthy snack, SO...for those of you interested in a healthy AND delicious snack, they're super easy to make.
Buy dark chocolate, melt in microwave, take banana and jam a popsicle stick up it, dip in chocolate, sprinkle on some nuts and freeze. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Only 160 calories and 4 grams of fat. And if you use dark chocolate it's good for your heart.
I suggest you make them tonight and then tomorrow you can have just as big a smile on your face as I did today while I enjoyed my super nutritious chocolate treat. (They can also double as swords if you enjoy the occasional sword fight.)
Monday, February 25, 2008
Just Another Manic Monday
My basement apartment flooded last night and I am surrounded by VERY loud, industrial fans today drying my carpet. My internet connection broke leaving me helpless to communicate online about my projects. My blackberry kept telling all the people calling me that it wasn't accepting calls. My hard drive that crashed is not doing what it needs to do or recognizing files I need. And of course a BIG deadline is looming. Oh and my kitchen light is dangling from a wire - it fell out of the ceiling for some unknown reason. I expect it will top off my day by falling on my head at some unsuspecting moment.
I've never related to the Bangles so much before, and really wished that I was "kissing Valentino by a crystal blue italian stream." I'm not sure those are the words, but it's definitely not "a crystal brewed italian stream" which I thought, and sang, for a long time.
So here's the thing--sometimes you just have "A Day." And when you do, you just get through as best you can and keep telling yourself the wise words of Scarlett O'Hara, "My life is over. Nothing will ever happen to me again." Wait. Wrong quote: "After all... tomorrow is another day." Yes, that's it.
At any rate, in the midst of all this turmoil, which really doesn't even feel half as bad now that I've written it down, one good thing has happened. Kristin gave me the gift of blog re-design for my birthday, and Carly - world renowned blog designer - has finished my personal blog. Which none of you can see...However, I will share the joy of the design with you, along with my regret that you can't read what is on the real thing. Here is the header. Isn't it awesome? You probably can't see because it's kind of small, but it has little images of family and friends in the hanging balls. 
I heart my blogs. Get excited and stay tuned as the construction efforts on this blog begin. Soon it will fill all your senses (minus taste I hope) and not just your heart. I kid.
And if today really is one of those days, that hanging light WILL fall on my head and I will blog about it for you tomorrow, since I was informed that most people who read my blogs just like to read about me getting hurt and falling. Well, I aim to please.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Equal Opporunity Spa-ing
****Don't let the title scare you Brian, this blog will not mention breasts, and it is safe for Root consumption.
Last night was just an average Saturday night with your little brother. I came home from the airport around 8:30 or 9:00, and started cleaning and organizing and trying to get my life back in some semblance of order after a couple weeks on the road.
I had considered going out, but after about two seconds of thought decided I was definitely not feeling it and that a nice d.i.y. spa night sounded better. Shortly after aplying my Astra age-defying mask, Garrett walked through my door, saw my face and froze in his tracks - mouth agape. He was perhaps a bit scared, then amused, and finally exhilarated to find out what night it was at Casa de Quinn. He immediately insisted on joining the fun.
As you can see we both look pretty amazing in blue. It's especially complimentary to Garrett's stunning blue eyes.
In a nutshell, the night proceeded like so:
1. We carefully applied our masks, while giggling like school-girls
2. We caught up on our girl talk about relationships and who had been most recently rejected, and why games are stupid.
3. By the time we were caught up it was time to remove our masks and apply some moisturizer. Garrett was nervous about the eye cream, but finally acquiesced, and I think recognized the value.
4. We topped off the evening with the classic, "When Harry Met Sally" and a rousing game of scrabble.
It was truly a night to remember and one of my most enjoyable Saturday nights to date.
Two important informational afterthoughts:
1. Who needs sisters when you've got a brother like this?
2. Garrett told me when I picked him for church this morning that his skin has never felt better.
Friday, February 22, 2008
What is Sexy?
What is sexy indeed? Many women clients would say our CEO pictured above (with what some might consider a porn industry mustache) but, according to our sales guy David, NOT our e-learning materials. He kept asking us to make things look sexier and sound sexier during out strategy meeting yesterday. I get the idea that sexy is important to him, and not just on the e-learning front. And, hey, that's ok - as they say... sex(y) sells. And that's his job. Selling, not sex.
When he kept pushing for sexy, Ed, our Director of Operations for e-learning (who tends to lean more towards, let's say, substance) seemed a bit flustered by all the requests for sexy language in our materials. He finally, in consternation burst out with, "I don't know what an example of sexy language is." I think most in the room felt this was probably an understatement, and much laughter was enjoyed. With Ed, not at him. When I told our CEO, Jim, about Ed's outburst later, and while looking at Ed he said, "Take a look at him, that's for sure." (In case Ed's wife is reading this blog, please understand that I am not mean as you previously thought, I am just reporting the unbiased facts. If anyone is mean, it's Jim, and you should definitely talk to him.)
Another theme of the meeting, which Jim was kindly pointing out above, was Ed's dress code. He leans towards what David calls, "condiment colored sweatshirts" - mustard yellow, relish green, etc.. Ed is also featured in a previous blog about gout - which subject Jim raises in the video below. I personally find Jim's jokes about Ed shocking, and only chronicle it here in the hopes that Jim will see how NOT fun it is to enjoy yourself at someone else's expense.
****VIDEO COMING HERE SOON****
And Ed, since you said I never say anything nice about you in the blog, I think you have really nice, new sneakers.
One more thing. This whole subject reminds me of the Christmas gift that Tricia gave to Gary Magenta (our VP of Sales and Marketing) this year. A hardbound book with 68 pages dedicated to all the things Gary had said or done over the last couple of years that if reported to HR, should have gotten him fired.
I say, what a great company that doesn't let silly things like sexual harassment and political correctness stand in the way of a good time...and a leadership position. I've found my home.
***Jim: Remember that I really, really like both you AND my job. And if you try to bring me down, I've got a copy of Tricia's book and I'm bringing your VP down with me.
Good Quality Girl or D.I. Quality?
In the second part of my Travis film series (I love my i-flip video!) I introduce you to Raj and the Social Sev. The Social Sev is a 7/11 in Provo, UT where apparently hip, all-star types (like Travis and SQ) go to see and be seen. I haven't really seen where it's all it's cracked up to be on my two excursions with them, but maybe they were slow nights. Maybe. Here's how I define the Social Sev: It's the Provo equivalent of a bar - you are buying beverages of the non-alcoholic persuasion like gatorade, and trying to get a girl's number so you can text her for a really long time and not much else. You can see the huge draw.
So Travis and SQ (Which stands for Shawn Quality, not Shauri Quinn) introduced me to their main man Raj who manages the social sev. In the first video SQ introduces me to the Social Sev and Raj.
The Eagle
Apparently Travis and his "Keepin' it real in the 801" homie/colleague, Kyle have come up with a new handshake. As you know, everyone and I mean EVERYONE needs a handshake when you're in professional sports. Even if you just sell tickets. I think you'll like this first clip from my Travis series.
(Who by the way my colleague Todd is able to identify now by name and personality. Today at work I told a story about how on my mission one of my brothers wrote me a letter in "Biblical talk". As in, "Deareth, Shauri. Howeth areth you?" Todd asked, "was it Travis?" He said he just knew from my blog that any time something smart-a**-y was done it had to be Travis. Amazing. And accurate.)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Expect the Best from even the Worst
Because I spend a large portion of my time talking about how much I hate the airlines and their customer service (particularly Northworst), I thought I should give a shout out to one of their flight attendants that actually seemed to enjoy his job.
I was a little frustrated after missing my flight (due to the fact that they wouldn't let me go up to the gate with 20 minutes to spare) and losing not only time but my first class upgrade, but this is a positive story - Let me re-group.
I was sitting in an aisle seat somewhere in the middle of the plane, and the male flight attendant came by and stopped by my seat and said, "You've been selected to help." I got a little nervous and asked what I had to help with. I figured it was something like, to help make the flight lighter by de-planing.
He handed me the little air mask thingy, the direction pamphlet and the seat buckle. He told me that he needed my help with his demonstration. I was a little annoyed at first thinking now I had to actually pay attention to my 7 millionth presentation and I mean how lazy could someone be??? BUT I tried to mask it with only one huge sigh and an "Ok."
He asked me to hand him the item that they always talk about first. I got a little nervous and handed him the mask. "Great job!" he said. I felt pretty good. Then he wanted me to hand him the next one. I got nervous at that point that I would select wrong and I mean, I've flown how many times?? I got it right and I felt really good when he gave me a big smile and told him how smart I was. This my friends at Root is what we call "engaging the learner." I was fully engaged. The best was yet to come.
Not only was I bought in to the presentation and listening and laughing at his funny little additions to the rigmarole (like pulling out a cigarette and pretending to puff on it when he said no smoking), but after I finished helping/participating, he then pulled out a little notebook of coupons and said I was the lucky winner of 500 frequent flyer miles for helping him with his presentation.
It's a drop in the bucket for what I'm pulling in with these jobs, but I felt like I won the lottery and he was so positive and engaging that I forgot all the previous negative experiences with his company that day and flew with a big old smile on my face.
That my friends is good customer service and a little lesson for me in being willing to help with a smile instead of assuming the worst and being put out.
God bless the best Northwest flight attendant I've ever encountered. He made my day a little brighter.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Big Easy
And now, New Orleans. Are you keeping up? I'm not, I've missed exactly two flights in the last month just trying to remember where I'm going and when.
The purpose of this trip is to do some filming for the All-Star weekend. Both the D-League AND the NBA have all-star games and events so while I am working...HOW LUCKY AM I to get a media pass to the greatest basketball event with the best basketball talent on earth??
Life is good.
I came straight from Vegas to New Orleans and found out right before heading out that we had to be at the arena by 5pm on Friday to claim our media passes. My flight was scheduled to arrive at 4, so it was going to be a mad dash to the arena, with my luggage to try and get them. Luckily, I got the angriest, and perhaps most dangerous taxi driver in this city. Maybe in the world. But I was glad. Because as soon as we left the airport we got stuck in traffic. I was counting down the minutes for my taxi driver letting him know that he was about to ruin my whole New Orleans experience if we didn't get there. Then I stopped cold. Mainly because he started to terrify me. He was driving on the shoulder of the road, through exit ramps, whatever it took to pass cars. And honking and screaming at all of them the whole way. This man had serious anger management issues. Once we got in to town with 10 minutes to go he was running lights, passing people in oncoming traffic lanes, you name it. The good news, we got to the building with 3 minutes to go and I DID get my media passes. The bad news, well, none really, although I am scared for him, and his life.
Friday night we filmed the D-League Dunk Contest, 3 point contest, and horse. It was only borderline interesting until the dunk contest-- more below on that. I forgot that Wallace needs constant supervision, and this night was no exception. Sticky Fingers found herself an NBA x's and o's game board on the ground near the chairs and swiftly swept it up an in to the backpack. When I told her that might be considered stealing she replied, "Not when it's for your family. My sister needs this." I guess it's kind of like Les Miserables and the loaf of bread. A real NEED.
Some of the highlights from the weekend were:
- Interviewing Lenny Wilkens at halftime.
- Walking around on the same court with and filming Kobe, AI, LebronJames, Yao Ming, Steve Nash, and other people I never thought I would be standing in touching distance of.
- Interviewing Rod Benson, my favorite D-League blogger. You can read here about his shameless (and brilliant) bid for the all-star game:http://sports.yahoo.com/nba/blog/nba_experts?author=Rod+Benson
- Getting Beneigts and hot chocolate at Cafe Du Monde.
Back to the slam dunk highlights --- for both the D-league and the NBA. It was definitely showtime--and show-out time. My favorite performer for the D-league event was our very own Michigan man Brent Petway aka Air Georgia who had good dunks, but even better after-party performances. Check out Brent's performance AFTER the dunk.
For those of you who didn't watch the NBA dunk contest, it became a lot more about entertainment this year. I think you can only do so many dunks and keep it interesting, and these fellas seem to agree. The two best dunks for sheer entertainment value were the Superman, and the Birthday Cake. I mean...hilarious.
Superman:
This my friends, is showmanship.
Birthday Cake:
I mean he planned to bring a cake, light a candle, and blow it out while dunking. Wow. My favorite comment is Barkley saying pre-dunk, "This is like Roger Clemens going before Congress...this is a bad idea." One of my favorite parts that they don't show before he dunks is the mascot on his knees begging him NOT to try this dunk.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Viva Las Vegas!
Valentines Day. The day of romance, flowers, and chocolates. Or in my case, slot machines, buffets, and Elvis.
I was thrilled to discover that this Valentine's Day I would not be alone. Nay, I would be in Las Vegas working with Taco Bell. Some of you may consider this a disappointing way to spend the day, but you would be people who actually HAVE a valentine.
I for one, relished the idea of spending the day in a place where time, date and normal life don't exist. A place where people have a glazed look and a sore arm from spending 24 hours sitting at the same slot machine just pulling, pulling, pulling. People who know what love really means. I kid.
My dream for Valentine's was to go with Heather (also there for Taco Bell) to a little chapel 'o love and just wait until I saw just the right (and appropriately drunk enough) guy to enter with me and seal the deal. With Elvis presiding naturally. You know to add a spiritual element.
Sadly, the blessed event didn't take place, but in it's place Heather and I went to see Wayne Brady perform. Not Wayne Newton, much better. His show is singing, dancing and all kinds of improv in an intimate little theater. He's so talented and funny. He had people in the audience come up on stage and take part in the improv. I think one of my favorite parts had to be when one particularly drunk woman came up to participate and he had her and the other 3 people on stage acting out the story he told. This woman was a ring. Like on your finger. I'm not sure how she interpreted this, but every time he said ring she threw herself on the floor and curled up in a fetal position rolling back and forward ever so slowly and seductively...for a REALLY long time. Just rolling back and forth with a peaceful look on her face. Wayne just stopped and stared at her. Dumbfounded. As we all did. Anyway, he was really funny, and I think I am in love with him. I wanted to invite him to the chapel 'o love, but for some reason his security guards didn't want me to ask. Whatever.
The important point here is that I never once thought about it being Valentine's Day and wondering where my Valentine was. I had Heather, Wayne and a bunch of really crazy drunk people. Best Valentine's Day ever.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Who Loves the Airlines?
I just spent 4 hours traveling 1 1/2 miles trying to get to the airport. I sat and sat as snow poured down on my sad little orange rental car, and wondered when my car would officially run out of gas. I watched the time go by. One hour, two hours, as I missed my flight, and then three and four hours as I almost missed my next flight. I thought about how I might die alone in that little car at the point of the mountain with no food and water and I realized something earth-shattering. Are you ready? Everyone dies alone, not just people in snowstorms in orange cars. It's that one trip you can't take a companion on.
Why is this relevant? It's not. At all. It might be the dumbest thing ever written, but my point is this: I had a LOT of time to think, and sadly I donn't think very smart things.
Travel is getting tedious. I zoomed in to the rental car return, ran to the ticket agent to get my ticket, and finally ran through security with 20 minutes to go. Every obstacle that could be thrown in path to keep me from my destination was indeed thrown. With 10 minutes to go I ran up to the gate breathless and the door was shut. I threw myself on the ground in front of the door, "Please, please open the door for me," I cried to the gate agent. She looked at me with pity and coughed, pointing to the board behind her head. "We're delayed 45 minutes." "Oh."
And so goes the cruel game that airlines play with us as they smile condescendingly behind their little desks and turn us away. So here I sit waiting on my second delay for them to tell me that no flight will actually go out tonight at all. Why? Because I'm actually in the airport and they have all the power, so why not cancel? More than any other organization in these United States, the airlines OWN us.
They can give us the worst service and we have to come back. They can charge us to bring more than one bag on now. They can charge us when we miss a flight due to weather, but not reciprocate and give us a hotel or even an "I'm sorry" when they cancel a flight. There is zero accountability, and I know I sound bitter, and that's because I am. Just a little...no, a lot. As I would be told to say in Alanon, "I am angry at the airlines." Recognition my friends.
Looking forward to three more flights in the next week, I groan inside. But one day I will have my revenge. I don't know what that will be, but it will happen. It will definitely happen.
On a more interesting travel note, I saw today that Richard Branson has "his people" working on a way to make flights from LA to Australia 30 minutes long. It's tied to space travel technology. How great would THAT be?? If only it could happen NOW. Then everyone in our family could quit complaining and we could see our parents every weekend. I'm sure it will be totally cheap.
(Now I have an hour to kill, so I'm going to go talk to my fellow travelers and try to incite an uprising. Kidding, I'm going to be POSITIVE and go make some friends. Someone out there's gotta love Big Booty!)
Dress Your Age?
(Sharon Stone: Age 50)
When did it become a rule that you have to dress your age? What does this even mean?
As long as I can remember, shopping with my mom involved the inevitable dressing room question, "Are you sure if I buy this I don't look I'm not dressing too young?"
I always shut it down, and she would buy the "cute outfit", but with a nagging worry that others might think she was...that's right...dressing too young.
If it's a cute outfit, who cares? Who was the person that came up with the idea that you had to wear certain clothes at certain ages anyway? Even In Style magazine sells this message of dressing your age, as every issue contains a section with outfits you can wear in your 20's, 30's, 40's and 50's. I'm in my 30's and I'll wear whichever decade I want and don't appreciate someone dictating what it should be.
Why am I thinking about this? I had my first encounter with this issue when I started a Root Learning. And the man who made me start looking at myself was in town this week with a client.
His name rhymes with Gary, and in fact IS Gary. He started telling me that I needed to start "dressing my age." I fully accept that I may dress young -for my age- but I'm not sure I even know exactly how. And, frankly, I'm not sure I care.
If I see something I like, and it's fun, and maybe it even makes me feel young...well, why should I care?
Now I'll flip it around.
Everyone has seen THIS woman. Well not her literally, but you know, this kind of woman.
The woman who is a platinum blonde at 60 with really tight clothes and super tanned, leathery skin. I admit--when I see HER, I make a judgment call and say, hey--sister, the time has passed.
Now I have to pause and take stock. Why should I judge her? My theory should still hold. Why can't she dress the way she wants, and in a style that makes her happy, comfortable and so she feels attractive.
Here's what I've come to--it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, but every woman should ask this question when you put something on in the morning and stand in front of your mirror. "Am I wearing this for me and how it makes me feel or because I'm trying to project something that I want everyone else to buy in on?"
If you can answer that you are dressing for you and how it makes you feel..then I say, wear it proud sister and never again ask, "Am I dressing too young for my age?"
Word.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Nothing like a real compliment
Emphasis on "real".
Today I cooked dinner for Travis, Garrett and their roommate Robbie. I cooked a pot roast, carrots, potatoes and brown sugar muffins. Good old comfort food.
Now I will be the first to admit that the food didn't cook the way it was supposed to. I have no idea why, but after cooking it for 5 hours (I've never cooked it longer) the carrots were still a bit crunchy and the meat was not exactly tender.
I make some comment about how it wasn't quite up to par and Travis IMMEDIATELY jumps in and tells Robbie, "It's true, and this may not sound like a compliment, but it is...this is the worst meal Shauri has ever cooked."
Ok. I wasn't sure what to say because it actually was meant as a compliment and he was saying I was a good cook, but when that compliment includes the words, "worst meal ever cooked", well it's hard to swallow. Just like my carrots, apparently.
Anyway, I'd just like to thank Travis for continuing to "Keep it real in the 801" just as he promises to do on his own blog. I will never doubt that he means what he says.
As a postscript, he DID load up his plate twice, and eat it all. Except a few carrots and when Robbie told him to clean his plate he said, "I can't. Literally, I can't eat those, they're too hard." When I commented on how he had two helpings he said, "It's fine. It's better than anything I would cook for myself and I have to make it last through the night."
So there you have it. Another successful meal with my biggest fans.
(P.s. and no this blog ISN'T ever going to end, if you're wondering. I found a new gig. Garrett's pimp. Well, Mormon style. He keeps talking about wanting to get a girlfriend, but never asks any of the girls out he talk to, so today at church I told him I'd handle this and got a girl's number for him and promised her he would call tonight. I handed it off at dinner and he seemed thrilled. Now we're rolling.)
Saturday, February 9, 2008
One more classic..
If you missed the Super Bowl AND you missed Ellen interviewing them afterwards, you should definitely check this commercial and follow up interview out. This is a GREAT story. Sometimes dreams can come true, even when you don't know you have a dream.
Two Emos and a Leprechaun
I spent a few important moments sharing funny YouTube moments with Travis yesterday and thought these were too good to keep to ourselves.
In case you're not familiar with what an "Emo" is, you should watch this first video about Hope. Hope IS Emo. I kind of think Emo might be another word for teenager. (Credit to Todd Huss for introducing me to Hope.):
Now that you know what Emo is, you should see the Tickle me Emo video that Travis shared with me:
And finally, while this has nothing to do with Emo at all....it DOES have to do with something equally, or perhaps more hilarious. Leprechauns. It is impossible to choose the funniest line, but please weigh in on your favorite. Prepare yourself folks, this is SERIOUS news:
Putting the -atic in fan
I wired up a fan at one of the Flash games a couple weeks ago who's a real character. He sits up in the nosebleed seats....by himself...all geared up..EVERY game. AND, he cheers non-stop. He coaches the team, he calls the plays and acts like he ref, owner, and coach. All this out load, with hand signals...and by himself.
I thought he was entertaining, but tonight I learned something new about a guy I thought was just a big fan. Turns out he is a Fan-atic.
The guy sitting next to me at the game tonight told me he saw me wire this super fan up a few games back, and was wondering why he was selected. I gave him the brief overview on how he was an entertaining fan. This guy next to me, then proceeded to tell me how the "fan-atic" attacked a ref on his way out a couple weeks ago because he was so upset with the poorly called game. The police had to come and break it up and escort the guy out.
Now I appreciate a good fan as much as the next gal, but when you threaten refs (after a game and with force), I think you may be crossing a line. (A line I wish I had been on hand to film obviously, but certainly not to condone.) Now when my dad several years back at Pioneer/ St. Johns basketball game threatened a ref (from his seat and without physical violence) and told him, "You don't deserve to live ref!" I obviously don't feel that crosses any lines or makes him a fan-atic. Just sort of enthusiastic with slightly bad judgment. And maybe turrets. In fact, after working with several St. Johns alum, I may even reconsider the bad judgment comment.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Time Keeps Marching on...
...and sooner or later you discover it's marching right over your face.
This is one of the many memorable and clever lines from Steel Magnolias. I remember thinking it was funny, but never that it would be applicable. Sadly, in the last year or two I started to see time's little footprints showing up all around the eyes and mouth and who knows where the treacherous little feet will march next.
So this brings me to a question that I contemplate on a daily basis. To cut, or not to cut? That is the question that Shakespeare would have asked if he were a woman. Because frankly, the question is it better to be alive or dead is irrelevant--you are what you are. It is far more important to decide whether to let life take its natural course on your body or to use what tools man has creatively invented to make us look younger and "better."
I'm curious what everyone thinks about plastic surgery. Specifically face-lifts, or even botox. (Which by the way is currently being used by at least 50% of my friends.) Whaddaya think? Is it wrong to want to hold on to your youth and beauty? Does it have larger societal consequences or impacts on self esteem? Should you just age "gracefully" and embrace who you are and what you look like naturally? And why? I can argue both sides equally well and so I find myself in a bit of a conundrum, and I'm sure this is a question to which most have an opinion.
To be cut or not to be cut? That is the question.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Oprah and I are Free Women
I can be silent no longer.
Ok, I haven't been silent at all, but it seemed like a really catchy opening line. It's Super Tuesday folks and things are heating up.
On the Democrat side things are obviously exciting. Mainly because I simply have NO idea who will come out on top. It truly is a close race and I have no gut feeling on who will come out the victor. I will say that I was truly inspired and swayed by Oprah's latest appearance for Obama out on the campaign trail, and I have to believe a LOT of other voters were as well. The woman is powerful and smart...and a darned good speaker. I would have voted for her for President when she sat down. Apparently she was catching a lot of flak from other women about not backing a woman. She fights back and I just have to say, "You go girl." Check the video.
On the Republican side I would just like to say once again how strongly I dislike Huckabee and his devilish ways. I mean, the man knows he has ZERO chance of winning this thing, but does he drop out? No. And why?? Because he is clearly trying to screw over Romney. He will split the conservative vote with Romney, especially in the southern states, and make McCain the clear-cut winner. Mark my words, when Huckabee gets tapped from McCain as his running mate, it will be obvious that they have been scheming behind the scenes to make this happen. It's so sneaky and political that I want more than ever for this thing to blow up in their faces.
Second angry moment today. Reverend Al Sharpton was talking to Hitchens (the guy who wrote the anti-God book)at a debate at the NY Public Library. Hitchens made some comment to Sharpton that it surprised him that Romney doesn't get asked more about why Mormons thought Blacks were inferior. This is fantastic in and of itself, but it gets better. Sharpton replied, "As for the one Mormon running for office, those who really believe in God will defeat him anyway. That's a temporary situation."
Sharpton goes on in further interviews to deny that he meant any harm to Mormons or to Romney, and that he wasn't accusing them of not being Christian or believers. I challenge you to find any different interpretation in his comment. For someone who is all about finding people who are bigots and appropriately punishing them, it seems a bit ironic for him to call out Mormons as "not believing in God." Why can't a person just be honest and say, "Look, I said that, and I was wrong. There is no good interpretation, but it was in the heat of the moment, and I regret saying it. Mormons are believers too." And leave it. Then I say, Ok, believe what you want, I believe what I want, thanks for the apology.
I go back to Oprah. Why is this vote about religion? Or race? Or gender? It's all unacceptable and your vote shouldn't be based on any of these things. Like her, "I am a free woman that follows my own truth." I wish we would hear more of people voting their heart and their issues and not a desire to either promote OR prevent a woman, a black man, or a Mormon from the office.
And that my friends, is a rant. I mean wrap.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
My Niece is smarter than Wynona
Yesterday I had a lovely outing to the mall planned with my 4 year old niece Keely. This is our standard outing - walk around the mall and shop, go to the play-place and then up to Macy's for lunch. The play place was cut out of the excursion today as she informed me that we no longer needed to frequent that place because she was 4 and 1/2 now and it was for little kids. I totally agreed.
Our last stop before Macy's was Von Maur - a Nordstrom-like department store. I was looking for shoes in the sale room, and Keely insisted that there were some she needed to try on too. She started with this pair of big, fuzzy purple slippers and asked if she could get them. I said no, they were too big for her. She told me that she would probably grow in to them next year when she was big, but I insisted that she was about 10 years off from fitting them.
Next she found some strappy sandals that she wanted to buy for her mom. Again I said no, that those were summer shoes and it was DEFINITELY not summer time in Michigan. Keely started putting them in her Gymboree bag and I insisted she take them out. I told her that was stealing and that if she took them she could get put in jail. She removed them and I thought looked a little worried. I figured I had put the fear of God in her and we left the store.
Upon arriving home, I brought the Gymboree bag in to Lisa to show her what we had bought for Keely for Valentine's day. As I opened the bag my mouth dropped open and I started to laugh out loud. There sitting on top of Keely's clothes was that hideous pair of mis-matched purple slippers. The little rascal had audaciously stuck them in her bag and walked out of the store with them. I tell you Wynona could have learned a thing or two from this kid. I'm so glad no alarms went off or I would have looked really guilty denying that we had any merchandise. 
I'm glad Keely wasn't in the room when we discovered her little trick because I couldn't stop rolling on the ground laughing about it and I'm pretty sure that's not the response or message Lisa would want to convey to Keely with regard to her theivery.
For those of you worried about Keely's future in crime, when asked, Keely said she had brought them as a big surprise for her mom. I assure you, they were. Keely will be required to return them on Monday. Lisa insists that Keely would never have done this if Shawn didn't teach a lesson during their Monday Family time about when he was a little boy and stole something and how stealing was wrong. I'm not so sure, but I guess there's no way to know.
Friday, February 1, 2008
I am a lunch conversation
Well needless to say, I'm simply thrilled by the overwhelmingly long, and clearly well-thought out responses I've gotten to my two political blogs. Regardless of who you like, it's clear that people care, so I say - God Bless You and God Bless America. With that said, let's just hope someone gets in who will ensure God continues to bless America since I believe He helps those who help themselves.
And that person is not McCain. Sorry, I couldn't resist.
I was thrilled to finally find a way to get my brother in law Abram to chime in on my blog because I miss his clever wit and sharp political mind, so I will be sure to continue with the occasional political update as a way to bless myself and all of you with his presence. Albeit, virtual.
One more day to vote for your presidential favorite on here, but I'm not surprised to see Romney as the clear-cut favorite. When I told someone (Len perhaps?) at work that Romney was running away with the votes he replied, "What do you expect, you have a bunch of Mormons reading your blog." He may be right, but I happen to know from the following story that not JUST Mormons are present here--the others are just withholding their vote, and their comments. Don't be shy people - there is no religious requirement for participation here. (But if you would include your home address with any comments I'll be sure to send the missionaries right over for a chat. Except for Ed of course.)
And now for the story I teased and tantalized you with just sentences ago. I arrived in the Root office on Thursday morning to be greeted by a co-worker - Brian. He leaned in to me and said, "Hey, a bunch of us were at lunch yesterday and Todd sort of casually started the conversation with, 'So, what do you guys think about Jimmy?'"
Huh? It took ME a minute to even understand what he was talking about and who Jimmy was. Then suddenly..Light...and I realized that my co-workers were (somewhat) intimately acquainted with my dating life, and just my life in general, and were discussing it at lunch. And all this without a (verbal) peep from me.
You may be thinking, "Is this lady a complete dolt? Of course they know...She's publishing her life on the WORLD WIDE WEB!!"
Right. So of course I get that, but still, you forget, or maybe you (and by you I really mean I) just don't totally get it until someone thousands of miles away catches you off guard with, "So we were talking about Jimmy at lunch..."
As a side note, Brian also asked me to start labeling my posts with "NFRC" - Not For Root Consumption when I posted material that he could not read without creating unnecessary mental images. Apparently when he was oh so casually reading my spa post, he suddenly came to the part about my...you know what..(I don't want to write NFRC here) and the sugar scrubbing Korean lady, and was frantically trying to hit quit before it was burned in his brain. Too late. He will now see my alleged perfect b-----s forever in his mind. My apologies Brian.
I'll try to remember this. From now on if you see in the title the NFRC rating you, the Root reader, will have to make the choice...and decide if you are ready for this jelly. I don't even know what that means, but I hope to ask Beyonce one day.
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