Thursday, April 26, 2007

Potpourri (this means that tonight's post will be a hodge podge of textures and scents all mixed up to be a pleasing mess on your computer screen.)

Remember that post where I didn't complain about my life earlier this week? The one where I just mentioned (listed) a few of the things I'd be doing that were especially intense? Most of them are now completed. Like yesterday, in the afternoon, our communications director/ webmaster, gave 3 of us non-computer geeks a 2 hour crash course on how to update and maintain our website. Because Monday is his last day. And he won't be replaced. I took notes. And paid careful attention. And it so was worth it because now I am completely confident. In fact, I bet I could teach a course. Or write a book on this topic.

Not.

So not.

Then there was today.
Thursday.
My favorite day.

It was, what I call, "A Stuff and Such Day".


It's the Quarterly-Stuffing-of-the-Newsletter Day. 2000 copies of our 4 page newsletter, along with a response device and return envelope are stuffed lovingly and with great care into the larger (previously labeled) mailing envelope then run through the postage machine. In the olden days, this was like a party day. All of those with nothing but free time would gather in the board room, listen to music, eat chocolate and talk about deep and relevant things while doing the folding and stuffing in an assembly-line-procedure similar to the way Lucille Ball wrapped bon-bons.

Those days are over my friend.
Technology reared its ugly head and took over our quarterly excuse to not answer our e-mails. A mother of a machine was made available to us, and I wish I had taken my camera to work today to photograph it's ugliness. Truly it is a vile creature. Our communications director runs this puppy (and yes, today was his last time.) I tried to take notes and watch which buttons he pressed, but I have a feeling that come September, I'll be taking all 2000 pieces of mail home and having a party around my dining room table.

Music, laughter, conversation and chocolate in exchange for a few hours of folding and stuffing.

Besides the setting up of the machine, which requires a masters degree in digital beeping, the actual running of the beast was the most frustrating experience next to discussing homework with Drew. That ugly mammoth of metal kept jamming. No, KEPT JAMMING. Hours and hours and hours of lifting the lid, rolling the rollers so that the jammed paper could be released, hitting the reset button, then pounding the start button. Over and over and over again.


And don't get me started on the big printer in the back with its grab-5-sheets-at-a-time personality. If I'd had a watering can handy I would have doused it in gasoline.

Oh, and that postage meter thingy?
I hate it.

So when I finally got home from work today, I was a little spent. After supper I changed out of my monkey clothes and into the baggiest, ugliest, most unflattering, draw-strunged shorts I own. And then, to complete the ensemble, I used one of those little aligator clips and put my bangs up into a whale spout coming off the front of my head.

Two minutes later the doorbell rang. Drew looked at me as Max yelled, "Mom. It's for you."
I couldn't do anything about the shorts or my legs, but I pulled that clip out just as she and I met in the hall.

"Here," she said. "My mom reads your blog, and wants you to have this."



Beauty products and exersize books.
Thanks, Isobel. I feel loved.
Because of the above pictures, the spacing will now be ridiculous. I've noted that when I add photos, the text gets squished and white space gets eliminated. Sad but true. Keep reading if you dare.
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A Good Story about God's Grace

"There was this young man who did a bad thing during his first year of college. Only three people knew about it, but after he had done it he was deeply ashamed. He prayed, asked for forgiveness and never did it again. Years later he went to seminary and became a pastor. One of the elders at his new church told him about a special woman in their congregation - she had the ability to communicate with God. "Go ahead, ask her anything. She'll ask God and get back to you with His answer."
The new pastor was skeptical ... he figured he'd ask her a question that only God would know the answer to. If she came back with the correct answer, then he'd know for sure she was legit.
"OK," he said, "Ask God what I did during my first year of college."
She nodded and told him she'd be back the next day.
They met for coffee the following morning.
"Well," he asked, "What did God say I did?"
She answered, "God said to tell you He forgot."
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A few months ago I was at an event where the speaker talked about her struggles with bulemia. Her road to recovery was not a freeway. It was not even a two lane highway. That road was a long, twisty, bumpy uphill path that involved re-grooving her mind and thought process. It all started with her sensitive nature and the way she interpretted comments, events and situations. She gave lots of examples of conversation-miscues to obsessing about silly little things like; she's one of three sisters. Both of her sisters have names that start with J and hers starts with a B. She assumed this meant her parents loved her sisters more. In their family, every girl had a "song" that was their own. Her sisters' songs where "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" and "Ring Around The Rosey". Hers was "I'm a little teapot, short and stout.." She assumed this meant her parents thought she was fat. And so on.
She was bulemic for 8 years.
She only started to get better when she retrained her mind NOT to automatically go to those destructive thoughts. She had to physcially tell her brain the truth.
Tell her brain the truth.
And as she kept telling her brain the truth over and over again, eventually, it accepted it.
How did she do this?
Everytime a negative, destructive thought came to her mind, she got out her journal and debated it. She wrote out the truth. And she didn't stop writing til she had dealt with every aspect of her thought. Pages and pages and hours and hours.
Every single negative thought was handled this way. Even if it was a repeat thought, she didn't just read an old entry, she rehashed the whole truth.
She described this as digging a new burrough. Eventually, when that familiar destructive thought entered her mind, instead of following her old thought path, her brain went to the new road. The one built on truth.
What was her source of truth?
The Bible.
I could so relate to her story. Not because I'm like her (so very not bullemic, nor did I think my parents were disappointed in me) but that thought pattern thing hit home with me.
Do you ever feel like your life is a broken record? That the needle is stuck on one groove, and it keeps doing the same line over and over? You never get past that song? That you'll never get out of the place that you're in? That every stimulus in your life brings you right back to that destructive thought pattern?
Got this in an e-mail this week and love it:
The Wolves Within:

A grandson told of his anger at a schoolmate who had done him an injustice. Grandfather said: "Let me tell you a story. It is as if there are two wolves inside me: one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way.
But the other wolf is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights with everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."
The boy looked intently into his grandfather's eyes and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?" The grandfather solemnly replied, "The one I feed." "
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I was reading a blog the other day written by a coupon-cutting, yard-sale shopper and online buyer/seller. Linda, I thought of you when I saw what she does.
Someone was selling empty printer cartridges on EBay. She bought 150 of them for 60 cents each. Then she took them to Staples who has a deal where you get a $3 coupon for every empty cartridge you return. She bought something with all her coupons and then got a 5% rebate because she is a frequent shopper. I think, after doing the math, she got $90 worth of merchandise for $18.
Aparently Craig's List has a category for Coupons? She bought twenty five "$1 off" Walmart coupons for a few bucks. Then she bought 25 Right Guard deodorants that were being cleared out with a sale price of $1.08. In essence she paid 8 cents for deodorant that was worth $5 each. Then she sold the deodorants for $3.50 each on Ebay and made $3.40 profit on each one.
She's a stay-at-home mom, and this is her hobby.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Pro D Day tomorrow. No carpooling. No morning angst.
2. Blog readers.
3. After getting a busy signal all day long (I tried calling roughly 3 times an hour) I finally got through and made a doctor's appointment for next Tuesday. Please let there be a pill that will make walking a joy again.
Shalom,

2 comments:

Rebekah said...

Today I am thankful that you are thankful for me.

Anonymous said...

Hey there,
Your blog has helped me alot to know I am not alone in the world of 12 year old boys, weight issues and life in general. You're right, the EBAY stuff was intriguing!