Thank you for listening to me when I don’t make sense.
For understanding me when I don’t understand myself.
For being there when no one else is.
Thank you for making me a better person.
For encouraging me.
For believing in me.
Thank you for making me smile.
For making me laugh.
For being my shoulder to cry on.
Thank you for being my husband.
The person I love.
My best friend.
Can you believe it has been three years?
Happy anniversary.
I love you.
Last Wednesday, I attended a women’s cycling event hosted by the lovely ladies of Half Acre Cycling. Information was learned, beers were consumed and chocolate was devoured. Oh! And I almost forgot. There were half naked dudes there, too. Introducing the Podium Men: Ben Popper, Dave Bowers and Adrian Silva.
Warning: What you’re about to see is pathetic, sad and…well…pathetic and sad.
I won’t bore you with the details of the past week that eventually lead to our cat having bladder stone removal surgery, but I will share some pictures with you.
Welly is tough. Despite feeling crappy all week, he never misbehaved (read: peed outside the litter box), acted like an asshole, or cried about it. Had he done all these things I probably would have spent all week crying, but luckily he remained 90% normal up until yesterday when he had the emergency surgery.
Last night was tough. He was sill incredible doped up and was having a hard time walking, and to make matters worse, we’re not able to pick him up since he has stitches on his belly. But despite his foggy state, he still made it a point to shower us with kisses and let out a few purrs to let us know he was OK. He’s definitely a trooper.
Of course a few trips to the vet and an emergency surgery doesn’t go without a price tag. As Dave put it, “With the money I spent on my cat this week, I could have had an Indy Fab SSR (read: fancy bike). Oh well, I love him even if he is a lemon.”
He may indeed have had a week of lemony moments, but I still love him too. Feel better buddy!
High school seems like forever ago, so it’s not too hard to believe that my ten year high school reunion is right around the corner. I always imagined that I’d go, but for some reason it took me until a few days before the ticket deadline to pull the trigger and commit to going. Why?
It’s not because I hated high school — I actually quite liked it. However, I think most people will agree that it’s an awkward time of spending way too much energy trying to be someone you’re not because you’re not really sure who you are yet.
I was a cheerleader, but I wasn’t popular. I was smart, but not a nerd. I had fun, but didn’t get in trouble. I was a middle-of-the-road girl who tried to be nice to everyone, and I think the same can be said about the people in my group of friends (or clique, if we want to use the appropriate high school term).
While debating whether or not I wanted to go to my reunion, I started questioning my motives. Do I want to go because I’m curious to see what others have done over the past ten years, or do I want to go and show others what I’VE done over the past ten years? While there isn’t a person in the history of high school reunions who hasn’t been curious to see which multi-sport athlete jocko got fat, bald and ugly, I’d be lying if I said that the latter wasn’t part of my motivation. Isn’t that a big part of what reunions are all about?
So I’m going. And not because my mom told me I’d regret it if I didn’t, but because I actually want to. So Naperville Central Class of 1999, I’ll see you at the end of the month.
Now…what will I wear?
My friend Kimberly and I are both avid Mad Men watchers (and real life copywriters). We no longer work together, but on Monday’s we’ll always email back and fourth to discuss the episode that aired the night before. We frequently talk about how our real agency life isn’t nearly as awesome as the way it’s portrayed on the show (John Deere episode, anyone?). Here’s why:
I don’t…
…drink booze all day
…smoke (cigs or weed) at my desk
…go out to fancy lunches/dinners/parties
…come in at noon
…ditch work for weeks at a time and not get fired
…know any celebrities
…have a cool office with my name on the door
I do…
…tote a Mac
…use profanity frequently
…work late
…despise time sheets
…wear jeans
…survive on coffee
…drink booze from time to time
…play around on Facebook and Twitter and claim it’s “Social Media Research”
…create ideas that “have legs”
…occasionally play ping pong and/or ride a Razor scooter to meetings
So is agency life really as awesome as it’s advertised on TV?
I guess that depends on where you work. *wink*
Jon Gosselin sucks. Ed Hardy sucks.
Looks like someone got it right when they concepted this poster for our office Halloween party:
I’m proud to report that it’s currently 7:30 pm on a Thursday and I’m writing this blog entry from the comfort of my own home. Normally this wouldn’t be anything noteworthy, but my job has become one where it’s a luxury to leave the office before 7:30.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m in advertising so working late is to be expected. And while I agree, I’ll also admit that the past few years of my career were relatively easy and stress-free compared to what I’ve been dealing with the past month or so.
This internet stuff is no joke. I have a newfound appreciation for beautiful, smartly designed websites.
And it’s especially nice when you’re recognized for all your hard work, late hours and near breakdowns. Last week my team took home a Pro Award for Best Loyalty Program or Shopper Rewards Program, beating out Miller High Life and Coke. Pretty sweet.
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SF 2009. Photo by 
