Feed a Cold Starve a Fever

I started a position at work this week which required me to spend most of Monday and Tuesday doing leadership training. There was talk about coaching and synergy and all the usual stuff, but the thing that stuck out to me most was when it talked about solving the root problem, not just the symptoms. Suddenly I had an epiphany about a few personal problems--sicknesses, if you will--that I have had for the last few months.
I had recently acted in a way that I thought would cure me of one of these sicknesses. Afterward I felt fabulously free. Later, I felt the same way I had before. It wasn't regret for what I had done, but the free feeling was gone. I realized that I had treated a symptom of a greater problem. By relieving the tension and stress of the biggest symptom I had in no way cured myself.
I'm glad that I've recognized this, but it makes me worried that this is more of a chronic illness than I had previously realized. I thought it was a cold, so I feasted, only to wake up sick again. That leaves me with a fever, I guess. The problem is I'm more prone to be a glutton than to starve myself. It all just tastes so good.

Long Time No See

So, for various reasons, I haven't been writing anything on here in weeks. I've been writing, but I haven't been blogging. I had dreams of a triumphant, enlightening come back to christen my new background.

Dream shattered.

I've got nothing.

I'm wide awake in my room hula hooping because it helps me think. I'm 23 and a hula hoop is a major part of my life. Sad. Or not. It could be some grand poetic statement about how the simple things that brought us joy in our childhood should not be forgotten. Or I could be less like a 23-year-old and more like 3-year-old. Either way, that's what I've been doing in the wee small hours of the morning the last few days--hula hooping and thinking. It's been mostly good thoughts. Happy thoughts. I've felt free, triumphant, empowered, and excited. But I've also felt slightly misinterpreted and a little disrespected. Gotta take the good with the bad. People won't always understand you, but if you know that you've thought your actions through and had good reasons for them, there's no need to let them pop your bubble. Speaking of bubbles... that would go along brilliantly with my hula hoop. Guess I need to add it to the shopping list with the super-soaker.

after one week...

It's official. I'm a fort failure. Sorry Susie!

Celebrity Swine Flu Fatality

My mom forwarded this email to me. I LOVE IT!!!

Fatality



And we all know who the carrier is.

Adele

I've always loved this song, but this version is so pretty. I love the character in her voice. Somehow the way her voice sounds makes the pain of the lyrics come out more. Feels good.

For Mom

My mother loves old movies. Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly are two of her favorites and I grew up spending Sunday afternoons curled up in her bed with her watching old movies. But even before then, when I was a baby, my mother would sing old songs to me to make me stop crying. Once, I am told, my parents had taken me on a road trip to visit family in New Jersey. I was crying, so my mom sang to me. She always sang “Jeepers! Creepers! Where’d you get those peepers? Jeepers! Creepers! Where’d you get those EYES?!” She’d flash her fingers and emphasize “eyes” at the end to make me giggle. The only problem with her sweet, good intentions is that her voice is not what most people would call pretty, or even close to being in tune. My mother’s voice sounds like brownies that taste just slightly out of the norm, like someone added extra salt to them, or maybe even chili powder. She is completely aware of the problem, but my mother, bless her soul, has always sung to her children. My mom tells me that when they thought I had finally fallen asleep, she continued to sing just a little longer to make sure I stayed that way. My dad turned to my mother and said, “Ginny, she’s asleep now…. You don’t have to sing anymore.” He hurt my mom’s feelings and she stopped singing. I woke up again not long after and I wouldn’t stop screaming. In an effort to regain some sanity and tranquility during the rest of the long drive my dad asked my mom to sing me to sleep again. In a grand display in the stubbornness that I believe I’ve probably inherited, my mother flat out refused to sing to me no matter how much my dad begged her. My mom, more used to the crying than my father, ignored it and allowed him to be miserable for the rest of my back seat wailing session. I still remember my mom singing that song to me as a young girl and, as a consequence, I am probably one of the only Americans under the age of 55 who actually says "Jeepers."

LOVE YOU MOM!!!

ABC Fridge Magnet Revenge

Two can play at this game :)

Is Hours Behind, Below Average, and Has a Record to Break on Film

People keep giving me a hard time, but i just keep stumbling upon more and more research that supports my theories. I would like to add the following article to my list of kissing facts from a previous post. Where can I get a job writing articles like this? And for Susie I would like to add: ooxxooXoxxx(Hug hug, kiss kiss, hug hug, big kiss, little hug, kiss kiss, little kiss) --Nacho (see number 6)

10 Quirky Facts About Kissing

Did you know that the average person spends 336 hours of their life puckering up? What else didn't you know about kissing? Find out!

By Laura Schaefer

Think you know a thing or two about kissing? You probably do. But the facts below are so off the beaten path, we’ll bet you don’t know them all — and they could come in handy. Not only could they provide some steamy "did you know…?" chit chat, but they’ll help you see all the benefits a satisfying lip lock can bring into your life. Happy smooching!

1. Two out of every three couples turn their heads to the right when they kiss.

2. A simple peck uses two muscles; a passionate kiss, on the other hand, uses all 34 muscles in your face. Now that’s a rigorous workout!

3. Like fingerprints or snowflakes, no two lip impressions are alike.

4. Kissing is good for what ails you. Research shows that the act of smooching improves our skin, helps circulation, prevents tooth decay, and can even relieve headaches.

5. The average person spends 336 hours of his or her life kissing.

6. Ever wonder how an “X” came to represent a kiss? Starting in the Middle Ages, people who could not read used an X as a signature. They would kiss this mark as a sign of sincerity. Eventually, the X came to represent the kiss itself.

7. Talk about a rush! Kissing releases the same neurotransmitters in our brains as parachuting, bungee jumping, and running.

8. The average woman kisses 29 men before she gets married.

9. Men who kiss their partners before leaving for work average higher incomes than those who don’t.

10. The longest kiss in movie history was between Jane Wyman and Regis Tommey in the 1941 film, You’re in the Army Now. It lasted 3 minutes and 5 seconds. So if you’ve beaten that record, it’s time to celebrate!

Laura Schaefer is the author of Man with Farm Seeks Woman with Tractor: The Best and Worst Personal Ads of All Time.

Article courtesy of Happen magazine, www.happenmag.com.

You're So Vain You Probably Think This Post is About You

You walked into my life like you were walking onto a yacht....I hate how you show off for all of your friends. I hate how you pretend not to care about big things. I hate how everything works out perfectly for you. I hate how you hang on so tight and let go so easily all at the same time. I hate how you're right even when you're not. I hate not calling you right away when I have big news, or a funny joke, or a great quote. I hate how you make me mad and then make me laugh so I'm never really mad at you for longer than a minute. I hate looking you in the eye because I'm scared you can see how I don't really hate you at all. I hate how sometimes you understand me better than anyone and other times you don't get me at all. I miss talking with our noses touching. I miss the intimate warmth of whispers, feeling your breath on my neck and cheek as you mumble in my ear. I miss falling asleep with your scent stuck in my hair and you stuck in my head. I miss piggy-back rides and craning my neck to look you in the eyes when we're standing close, but never close enough. I miss the butterflies of holding your hand and the simultaneous sensations of nervousness, security, and chemistry that came when you wrapped your arms around me. I miss feeling like I had a special back stage pass into the secret parts of your life. I miss hating you and I hate missing you. And, like the song says, if Gidget says she hates you it can also mean she loves you. So maybe I also mean that I love all those things about you and I love missing all those things which might be why, despite my best efforts, I can't stop.....You gave away the things you loved and one of them was me....you probably think this post is about you...Don't you? Don't you?

My Emily

I was hoping I would have the pictures of our little outing the other night to put with this, but not yet. Anyway, Emily headed back to Orlando the other day and we're not sure when we'll see each other next, so we had a little girls' night out in true emilymel style. (You know how I like it haha!) After a typically strange almost-encounter that only the two of us could experience while eating sandwiches and watching the Celtics game, we headed off for gelato which is never EVER quite as good as it is in Italy (sigh). Then I used my GAP magic to help Emily pack her clothes while we ate chocolate and watched an old movie. It was a very emilymel kind of night. What you don't know, Emily dear, is that I cried the whole way back to my apartment because I walked down your stairs and already missed you sooooo much! "Mi Mancherai" kept playing through my head and I thought of the times we've watched Il Postino together. We have so many wonderful memories--Coconut Roller Craze; Martinelli's and AudreyHepburn movies on your bed in the dorms; taking less-than thrilled, uncultured boyfriends to Diwali; making candy; cleaning Fabry; locked doors (you knwo which one I mean); etc. There have been some hard times when we've been there for eachother too. You have always been there with a listening ear, a big hug, chocolate, and an old movie when I've needed you. I miss you already Emily. Who else can I have spontaneous song-bustion with? Who else knows what I mean when I talk about the Eutruscan? Who else would put up with all my guy drama? Emily, you are one of the smartest women I know. You have been blessed with the gift of tongues--truly, you have! You care so much about the world and have an incredible desire to make it better without being one of those crazy hippies! You are always there with something sensible to say. You take forever to do everything which has helped me slow down and breath and that is more precious to me than you know. You laugh at my puns--sincerely laugh at my puns! NO ONE DOES THAT! Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for being wonderful you. I thank God almost every day that out of the Brooke mess of freshman year I got the best girlfriend I've ever had. I hate not knowing when I'll see you again, but I know I will see you again. This is the kind of friendship that has already lasted through countless men on both sides, intercontinental communication, and competitive Disney Scene-It. Mi manchi amica mia! Ti voglio molto molto bene!