Vote for Key Phrase!

Sometimes I like to shout (or mutter under my breath) when I’m frustrated with Quickbooks or something isn’t working in the way I need it to work. Now I need YOUR help to decide what that phrase should be.

Blog followers, please cast your vote!

Jimmy James Mind Control.

Got to talk to the famed Jimmy Jam (aka: Officemate Jimmy) the other day. We agreed that our year together at Pilgrim Manor was awesome, a good formative year of being post-college, first jobs, working in an old supply closet with no windows and having a blast.

I was reminded of how Jimmy James controlled the music but I could make requests. A few cds I liked to play on repeat: Death Cab, Ben Folds, and one by Snow Patrol. He would say “What do you want to listen to today?” I’d say one of those three options, in lieu of any better ideas. James would say “ok, great,” wait for ten minutes until I got sidetracked by something else, and then play whatever he wanted. I never noticed until he told me he was doing it the month before I left.

Hahahaha. Apparently I also used to say “Hey James, you will not believe this!!” and then trail off with distraction, never to finish the story.

Miss you Jimmy.

Tragic Hack Job.

Last week I drove Marcia home and we were talking, having a great time. We saw Wally and Pat (landlord) two common characters on our block sitting on Wally’s porch next door to us. “Hi Lizzy! Hi Marcia!” Wally said. “Hi!” she replied.

GASP! A small scream of dismay, my jaw dropped.

Pat had trimmed Wally’s tree. The same tree that shades our porch and front windows. The tree that I sat staring at the night before watching birds play in. The tree that provides shade and oxygen for our little section of the neighborhood. The tree that makes me feel like I’m sort of still in the Midwest and not living in a city stuck in the middle of a giant cornfield. That tree I love with my whole soul.

Arms cut off unnecessarily, branches askew, a couple bare spots on the side closest to the porch. A tragic hack job that apparently cost $400/hour.

“YOU CUT THE TREE!” I yelled. “It’s ok, it’s ok” Pat tried to calm me down. Wally started looking a bit worried. “It’s ok Lizzy.” ”I can’t believe you did that!!” “It’ll grow back” Pat said, “It’ll be shedding all over your yard by fall.”

I went inside, laid on my bed and started crying. This might seem like an end of the week fatigue cry but I contend it was purely about the tree. “Where will it end? Where is the line?” I asked myself (and Marcia) remembering threats from Pat and Wally about the apple tree in Wally’s back yard that hangs over our fence.

Later I made the point in defense of my tears that after all I DO have a degree in sustainable business, so that proves I love the environment.

I’m Back. And so is Mr. G.

I recently received my travel mug from officemate Danielle with two labels on it;

“Mr G’s mug. I don’t wanna live in your filth.”

HILARIOUS.

Star Trek Love Child.

I’ve been in lots of weddings. I love them. And I get to be in two more this year! I also have a secret love for Star Trek… Yes, I would consider myself a Trekkie.

However, I don’t know if you could combine those two things and get a good love child out of it. Not everyone agrees with me apparently, as evidenced in the theme wedding pictured below.

Thanks to Cake Wrecks for this pic.

Ching A Ling

Fail.

42 cents of stamps.

Wedding Invite.

ReDesign Meeting.

Please watch this short video clip, you will not regret it.

Even though we might.

Googled Again Cam!

Marcia is afraid of Google. She also feels bad for search engines that were replaced by Google so she insists on using Ask.com. I can’t stand Jeeves so I insist on mocking her mercilessly for this.

But, during another sleepless night filled with curiosity I thought ‘Does Marcia have good reason to fear the power of Google?’ I’ve seen some interesting google searches that have led to my blog. One about efficiency, one about Ashley I (? not related), one about the world of Liz. So I tried it out; could you get to my blog by googling “Cameron Smothers?” I wondered if this not- friend of mine would ever find his way on here to read about an e-mail I sent him by googling his own name.

Well, I learned a couple things. Yes, he may one day find this and other blog posts of mine off a Google search of his name. Additionally, he is from Tennessee and played softball. He also won honorable mention for a poster he made entitled “Engineers Can Do Anything!” I find that ironic because my father is an engineer. Maybe not ironic according to the textbook definition of the term… Anyway, the most important thing I learned? Google searching “Cameron Smothers” is not for the faint of heart. You see “Cameron Smothers” could also be mistaken for “Cameron smothers….” And ’smothers’ is more often a verb than a proper noun, if you know what I mean. In short, I wouldn’t recommend it. Sorry again Cam.

PS: Hey Mar, I found your blog address by googling your name. Really, really, true story.

I also found this message from Marcia dated September 14, 2007:

“Hey you have a website! Love it and I love you and the picture you sent me. I’m really gald [sic] to have stumbled on this window into your world in Cairo. More information on the location of my grandparents and another really great couple that moved to Cairo is forthcoming. Lots of love and a tinge of jealousy–Your Egypt Roommate.”

Marley and Me.

Keith and Liz, I found this picture on their Facebook page and I love it. 

We went to see Marley and Me on Sunday. Keith parked a quarter mile away. Liz, nine months pregnant and 2 cm dilated (an overshare?), started taking long, low strides (aka: Jazz Runs) towards the cinema. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Trying to run! I feel like I’m running but I’m not going anywhere!” she replied. “Faster, faster!” Keith shouted. 

Towards the end of the movie the whole theatre was quietly sniffing. It was a full house, surprising for a Sunday matinee. All of a sudden, in a key part of the movie (Marley dies- spoiler – sorry if you didn’t see that coming), Keith and I hear “BOOOO WOOO HOOOO!” coming in explosive laugh/sobs from in between us. I shouldn’t say ‘Keith and I heard’ because I’m pretty sure everyone in the theatre heard and turned to look at us.

Whose idea was it to take the nine months pregnant lady to the sad movie about families? 

After twenty minutes of sobs the movie ended and we tried to skulk out of the theatre. “Hey Keith, will you go get the truck for me?” Liz asked. “No, you can walk!” He replied.