Ten at Five

Wait, What?

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 19:39:51 -0600

Ok, guys - now I want you to all be really low-key about the following, because if you do this without trying to look like you're not doing it, anyone who might be around you right now is liable to think you're ridiculous. Ready? Raise your right foot off the ground while you're sitting in your chair. Make little clockwise circles. Are you doing it? You REALLY have to do it! Keep those circles going. Ok, now, (this is the "make sure they aren't watching" part) - with your right hand, draw a "6" in the air. Did you notice that your foot's going the other direction now?

Welcome Back

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 17:45:11 -0600

Some of you may remember that I was asked to speak at my high school's National Honor Society induction. Today was the big day. Driving onto campus is a completely different experience than it was six years ago. There's a "guard shack" for lack of a better term. The parking lots are different. There are flowers everywhere. Inside, I found my contact (the honor society sponsor aka my ex-college adviser) and the teacher who really got me into what I do for a living. I met the Honor Society officers, and after a short chat with a few other folks, the ceremony started. It was funny, hearing them talk about me like I didn't belong there. I've stood on that stage so many times. I had forgotten, however, that once you get up there - you can't see a flippin thing. The light is blinding, so speaking is really no issue. You can't see anyone. There's nothing to scare you. There's nothing that's intimidating. I was proud that I hardly looked at my notes, but I think the most exciting part came after the ceremony had ended. Parents came up to me and said, "Great message!" Kids came up to me and said, "Thank you so much for sharing." They asked, "Do you really like what you do?" People were interested. And while I realize that this wasn't some life-altering speech - my goal was to make a difference to one person. I wanted one person to walk away from today and feel like they have learned something. Incidentally, I think that lots of people feel that they learned something. I had a bast going back and seeing old teachers. I enjoyed chatting with families during the luncheon. I loved being able to tell teachers that they really did make a difference in my life, and seeing the pride on their faces was absolutely priceless.

Down time

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 18:49:55 -0600

If I say, "We went to the ranch this weekend," I fear that many of you will draw mental images of people in a field, watching cows. When I say, "We went to the ranch this weekend," you should see a class A-frame house nestled into a thicket of trees. You should picture a stone patio, a pool and an outdoor fireplace. You should think, "Not the Ritz, but boy, that's one hell of a weekend home." So this weekend - we went to the ranch. When Blake and I wanted to leave, we found ourselves locked in - an interesting predicament. While we waited for those that knew how to help us exit the property to return from whatever they were doing, we sat on the tailgate of the truck in the middle of a road essentially in the middle of nowhere. Silence folds around you like a warm blanket. For the time that we sat there, I explained to Blake that I like going to the ranch because it's the only place for me where worries don't exist. The ranch doesn't care how I pay my bills. The ranch doesn't care if I have to give up going out to lunch every day with my work friends so that I'll be able to go to dinner with my friends on the weekends. The ranch doesn't care that I feel like I'm constantly struggling, that I'm scared a lot of the time, and that at the end of many days, I feel like I've done nothing but fight battle after battle, just to keep my head above water. Instead, the ranch takes your problems when you drive across the cattle guard. It puts them in an air-tight box on the top shelf of a closet, and it holds them there until you're ready to go, giving you all the freedom that you need to run and play like a kid - laughing and sharing stories, spending time doing nothing with your very favorite people in the entire world. It lets you enjoy life. It encourages you to enjoy life. Tell me, friends - how do you unwind?

Ode to the AC Man

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 12:01:43 -0600

My heating and air has been "broken" for over a year. When I say "broken," I don't mean that it won't turn on - it just doesn't function properly. Yesterday, while working from home, my mom called. Her: I'm sending an AC guy to your house right now. Me: Is his name Scott? Her: Yes! Scott's a customer of Mom's, and we've hung out a bit. Having not seen him in 2 months, I didn't want to open the door in my pajamas (which I was still wearing) without having done my hair, brushed my teeth or put on make up. The next four minutes were a whirlwind, trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. In less than 30 minutes, he had determined the problem. The thermostat that James and I installed so that we could auto-program it to adjust the temperature in the house was not compatible with the system. How we managed to do that, I'm really not sure, but when he told me that the thermostat was the issue, I undoubtedly felt ridiculous. Regardless, I now have heat! And air! And it all works just like it should!

Welcome to the Jungle

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 18:55:34 -0600

Our office is moving soon – Friday, to be exact. This is the second time we have moved in less than a year. How, you're wondering. We pushed our lease as far as we could at Original Location which we all loved. When the lease was up at Original Location, the construction at Brand-Spanking New Office hadn't yet progressed like we planned, so we had to come up with a Temporary Space. Temporary Space is a few small offices and one really giant room. Original Location was too small for us and cut up funny – a bad combination – so the move to Temporary Space was welcomed. Temporary Space has a huge wall of windows. The Big Room is where most of us sit – sixteen of us, to be exact. Despite all of the bulk furniture and personal belongings, we have oodles of room, so much so that Big Bosses invested in Razor scooters which we're always using to zip around the office. All of that aside – Brand-Spanking New Office is (almost) finished, and Temporary Space has invited us to leave. While Brand-Spanking New Office won't be 100% ready when we move in – it'll be pretty gosh-darn close! Friday, we're working from home while all of the actual moving happens. We're nothing less than ecstatic. Monday was a big day as they started staining the concrete floors in Brand-Spanking New Office. By the end of the day, the other offices in the building had to evacuate because the fumes were so strong. Tuesday, Operation Apology went into effect full swing as we delivered (absolutely amazing) muffins to each office that we inadvertently forced to leave. Brand-Spanking New Office has stained concrete floors, glass doors, bright paint and an overall industrial feel. The other offices in the building have marble floors, deep wood paneling, beveled mirrors, paisley couches and an overall law-office feel. Who wants to bet they already hate us?

Sugar Water

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 19:01:53 -0600

I make coffee at the office in the morning. It took months, but we've perfected the coffee-to-water ratio. Coffee is a formula which, after brewed, is paired with a precise amount of artificial sweetener and creamer. This morning when I got in, the pot was warm. And full. I turned to the girl who was already there and said, "Did you already make coffee?" She said, "Yes!" As it turns out, she'd been at the office since 5:45. As I poured the coffee into my cup, I started to worry. It was most definitely the wrong color. The wrong color coffee indicates the incorrect strength. If the coffee-to-water ratio is off, then the amount of creamer and artificial sweetener has to be adjusted. Knowing this, I went light on both the creamer and sweetener, then sat at my desk to enjoy. Except that didn't happen. The coffee was so weak, the "coffee" was really just sugar water. I started trying to figure out how to get rid of the ENTIRE pot of coffee and start over without Coffee Making Female knowing. I mean - I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but this was seriously bad. This was almost on the level of not drinkable. About that time, Coffee Making Female came to my desk and said, "Em, the coffee is awful. Yours is so much better. Can you re-make it?" Angels rejoiced. Choirs sang. And friends, I made the coffee.

The Ranch

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 15:27:28 -0600

Everyone has their own interests. As far as girls go, I lean away from tomboy and more towards girly. I am in no way in love with fashion, but I'll go out in public without make up on. I do enjoy modern conveniences, so camping has never really been high on the list of "Things I Love to Do." That being said, it was a surprise to myself that, when offered the opportunity to go to the ranch with the guys, I said, "That sounds like fun!" Friday after work, my friend, Blake, and I headed out to the ranch with his best friend, James, and James' nephew. The ranch isn't in the middle of nowhere, but it's certainly not in the city either. We took very specific directions - down to the tenths of miles - and gave them to our friend, Brian, who still managed to get lost on his way out to the ranch despite our specifics. (Poor Brian - he always gets lost.) We spent the evening sitting around, just hanging out by the fire, and honestly - it's one of the best evenings I've had in a really long time. We ended up sleeping in the beds of pickup trucks which seemed like a smart idea until early morning when we realized the toolbox that was holding 18 bags of ice and our beer had leaked everywhere and that we were laying on a really cold, wet blanket. That minor setback aside, early in the morning, I said, "Someone's coming." Blake sat straight up, looked around and laid back down. "Cows." I kept laying there thinking, "Cows? Like - coming this direction? To see us? Really?" No lie - about ten cows wandered right up to the truck and sniffed our things. One was particularly brave and ended up about two feet from Blake's head. It was really quite incredible to me - these huge, powerful animals, grazing only a few feet from us. What did I learn? 1. Make sure to put the beer in a cooler, not the toolbox. 2. Peeing in the woods is really not that bad. 3. Being open minded about some things can end up yielding surprising and pleasant results 4. The humor in a situation can double or triple when a twelve year old is involved. Has there ever been anything that you didn't think you'd really like, but you did it anyway and turned out loving it?

Help! I Need Somebody

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 17:32:52 -0600

I love being someone that people turn to for help. I'm not talking about the "help me put my life together" sort of help, because I'm really no good at that. In fact, right after the divorce, my friend, Blake, had to pretty much put my life back together FOR me because I couldn't figure out how to do it. Today I get this email from one of my best friends, Brian, and he sends me a link to something and says - tell me what you think. Now - people who have known me longer than 10 minutes know not to say that unless they really, really mean it because I'm gonna be honest, no doubt. I think that my favorite thing about Brian asking for help is that he's still finding his design style. He's a bit timid - ironic because Brian is the most out-on-a-limb person I've ever met in my whole life. I'm constantly pushing him - make the graphic hang OUT of the box, make things bigger, bolder, use contrast, use color. And then he sort of looks at me and goes, "Oh, yeah. Why didn't I think of that?" The thing about being in a design profession is that you have to find your own style. I mean - let's face it. If Coca Cola ads looked like Tampax ads, we'd be in trouble. Who wants lavender soda cans? I feel like I got out of school and started designing but was completely clueless. I found my way. I found my style. My favorite part of my job, though, is the details. I love fine tooth combing designs - adding icons, letter spacing, contrast. I love formatting content. Our office is well rounded. We have exceptional designers and mediocre designers. We have designers that couldn't care less about content formatting and me, who could arrange content all day long. We work well together. And lately, we've started playing well together. So today, it was the biggest honor imaginable when we were recognized for our outstanding efforts with an award for our company. We're all proud of what we do and who we do it with, and to be recognized for that is, in short, incredible. Our new office space is coming together. It looks amazing. We're all trying to decide where we want to sit and things of that nature. We're itching to move. The new space is unique - it sort of defines who we are. Pair that with our new award, and we feel unstoppable. We're having champagne and donuts in the morning to celebrate. Life, my friends, is good.

Guilty, Party of 1

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 17:58:49 -0600

Sixteen days ago, I told you about Live Without Blackberry. I told you how being disconnected was fantastic and freeing. And then I realized I was full of it and bought another. Why, you're saying to yourself. Without the Blackberry, I

ignore half of the emails I receive
read fewer blogs
abandon Facebook (for the most part)
am bored when waiting places because I can't play Sudoku
without my Weight Watchers points calculator
make 5,000 sticky notes
never have a grocery list

It is for these reasons that I have slipped back into the world where my Blackberry keeps track of my life so that I don't have to - well, because it's just easier. At work, we're all getting closer, so much so that we're co-workers are turning into friends that we just happen to work with. I say "we're all" meaning a group of 5 or 6, but in an office of only 25ish, that's a high percentage. It's nice belonging somewhere with people who you share interests with in an environment where it doesn't matter if you're silly - everyone's gonna laugh along with you. And since I haven't posted pictures in awhile (real pictures, with people and stuff), I'd like to introduce to you to some of my very favorite people.

Steven aka "The Epitome of Cool"

Brian & Me

Robert

Me & Casandra

Casandra, Brian & Me

Channeling Neil Sperry

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 20:18:09 -0600

My parents have been in love with gardening for as long as I can recall. They get some sort of strange pleasure from pulling weeds, watering flowers, watching things grow. I never really got it until I got a house of my own, and now, with spring on the horizon, it's almost killing me to see which plants survived the winter. This is a particularly big deal as this was their very first winter. Last year, my yard was a box. We put in an enormous flower bed, filled it with wonderful things, planted half a zillion plants (ok, so maybe it was thirty...), and now I can hardly wait to see what comes back. My parents are always saying, "We can plant anything you want!" Well that's great, guys, and if I had a clue what I wanted, things would be much easier. I'm very much in the learning stage of plants. Yesterday, for instance, there were some weeds in the yard. Weeds annoy me. They sprout just to piss me off, I think. Anyhow, I pulled weeds when I got home, and I enjoyed it! Why, you're wondering. Do you have any idea how much easier it is to pull those little boogers when the ground is wet? It's amazing. I've digressed. I'm now very aware of plants. I know what they are, and I like them. I like knowing what they are, too. Downtown Fort Worth is covered in small plant boxes. They encase every tree down every street. Once or twice or sometimes three times a month, trucks of plant people roll in, dig up the dead things and plant new, happy plants. I was walking down Houston last week when I caught whiffs of something fabulous - light and airy, fragrant but not so much that it choked you. I called Mom. "Okay, so I was walking down Houston, and I could smell something really strong. I thought it was the perfume of the lady in front of me, but she turned the corner, and I could still smell it, so then I thought it might be the flowers even though I can't ever smell the flowers. But it totally was, Mom. So these flowers - they're like - sort of short and bushy. They're on a sort of stalkish thing and the top part - maybe the top half - is flowers, but it's a bunch of little flowers, sort of like trumpets - clusters, kind of like - what are those other ones that we planted in the backyard that were the kind you have to plant every year? They were pink, and they were ground cover and you said you'd never seen that before? Verbenia! It's sort of like that, but you know, on the stalk and stuff, but the top part is round - so the flowers are sort of like a flower hat. Any ideas?" "Hyacinth." "Cool, I was just, you know, curious." Her ability to take my babbling mess of words, process it and actually give me an answer (a correct one at that) never cease to amaze me. If any of us figure out what the funny bushy flowering thing is that we planted on the corner of the house last year is called, I'll let you guys know, because it was seriously the coolest plant of all time and I'm not just saying that because it grew, despite the fact that I hardly ever watered it. Are you guys into plants? What are some of your favorites?

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 16:30:04 -0600

If you live someplace cold, the following is probably really not very cool to you at all.

I, however, live in Texas - and when snow hits the ground here? It's a really big deal!

I Thought

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 18:07:09 -0600

I thought that I was finally get a grasp on this new job of mine and things were (gasp) almost under control. I thought that my parents knew the answer to every single problem and were just keeping them from me because they're trying to prove some sort of point. I thought that when I made a decision that the decision I picked would be the right decision forever. I thought that when the thermometer outside hit 76 that there was absolutely no way on the face of this planet that a mere two days later, it would snow. Guess what? I was wrong. Just as I'm gaining control of this new job thing, I'm getting a whole new set of responsibilities which, quite frankly, scare me shitless, though everyone else seems to have this, "What's the big deal" attitude about it. The big deal is that you're signing me up to do something I don't want to do. The big deal is that I already can't get everything done, so what on earth makes you think I can accomplish this, too? Just cause I saved the day today with that great idea of mine and then actually, you know, went ahead and did it does not mean that I should be punished with extra crap. I just think that's wrong. My parents actually don't know the answer to all of my problems. They're not holding the answers hostage. They don't even know what they're having for dinner tonight. I have made some decisions. Well - I've made close to a billion of them, but I've made some fairly large ones with the advice of my father. I chose things based on the information I had to me at the time. I made the best decisions I could, and I moved on. And now, I'm very much wondering - what the fuck was I thinking? Saturday, it was 76. Last night, it snowed. Go figure. What's that phrase? Live and Learn? I don't like it so much. It doesn't come with advice, unless "learn" is the advice, in which case - that's some mighty crappy advice. What have you thought in the past that turned out not to be true?

Disconnected

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 19:27:19 -0600

I love my Blackberry. When I say I love my Blackberry, I mean that it's always in my pocket. I'm constantly getting email, replying to email. I have been known to (though I don't really enjoy) blogging from my Blackberry. It lets me play Sudoku, check the weather, IM with my friends. Its greatness is nearly limitless. And I've stopped using it. Why? When you've got something that will do, let's say, 200 things, do you only want to allow it to do 50? No, you want it to keep doing all 200. Apply this to the cost of a data package. With the unlimited data package, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, without counting kilobytes or any of that nonsense. Freedom like this costs a pretty penny, though, and by dropping the data plan, I'm saving myself $600 / year. That's kind of hard to pass up, you know? So I've changed my tune, and I've gone back to a simple phone. The back to basics version let's me place and receive calls, send text messages, and make lists. That's about all I want it to do. Those are the necessities for me. In the twenty four hours I've been without my Blackberry, I've noticed that life is quieter. I don't feel "on call." The email will wait until a convenient time. So what have I learned? Being connected, while exceptionally cool, is really not all it's cracked up to be.

Life as We Know It

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 07:07:53 -0600

During a Weight Watchers meeting, our leader told the following story. My mother was meticulous. There was never a hair out of place. Everything she touched was perfect. When I was little, I can remember being at home with my mother. We had done all sorts of things around the house, but the house was in no way clean. As we got closer to the end of the day, she said, “I’m gonna teach you a trick. When it gets to the end of the day, I turn the drier on and vacuum the living room so that Daddy won’t ask me what I’ve been doing all day!” Clearly, she could only handle so much, but she found a way to create the illusion that she had everything under control. When the holidays rolled around, we baked cookies that we'd decorate and give as gifts. We had sugar cookies on every horizontal surface of the kitchen. There were cookies as far as the eye could see. The sink was full of dishes. At the time, we had people staying with us, so there were nine of us in the kitchen. Kids were at the table doing homework; everyone was talking. And just when we thought it couldn’t get any more hectic, someone spilled glitter across the entire kitchen floor. My mother put down her spatula. She smoothed her apron. We sat, silent, waiting for our punishment. Calmly, she looked around the room. With each second that passed, we grew more and more scared. Finally, she spoke. “Kids? This is living!”

I'm sorry, what?

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 06:56:42 -0600

There was a message on my answering machine when I got home earlier this week from the National Honor Society sponsor at my high school asking if I would come and speak at the honor society induction. Emily's words, aloud, to herself in the kitchen: I'm sorry, what? I agreed to do it, but I have no clue what I'm going to say. Any ideas, kids?