The more we attempt to be who or what we are not, the more we remain the same. It is not possible to change something about ourselves by trying to be different. We change when we become aware of what we are as opposed to trying to become what we are not. It is important for us to be as fully as possible in our current position, rather than striving to become what we "should" be.

They say time flies when you're having fun. Methinks there might be something to that statement.

My six month Anniversary at AboutBI passed yesterday. When Jaimy and Steph told me it was actually a little hard to fathom.

Really?

Six months?

It doesn't seem like that long at all, on the other hand I feel like I've been here forever. It's a comfy spot, this office. The start-up trauma has settled to a dull roar and I feed on the pleasant chaos. It's working, y'know? This lil' business is making a go of it. I'm excited to see where we all will be in another six.

Cheers to that notion.

I'm off to Chicago. I'll post pics. Maybe. If I'm not busy havving fun. *hehehe*

This morning as I was brushing my teeth, my cross country friend Teresa sent a lovely pic of her boys. This got me to thinkin', no pics of Reno on Live Journal! Not for months! Seeing as I blew more money that one really should blow on a new camera a week or so ago, it's high time I fixed the issue by having a photo post. Live Journal, this is m'dog:



( Reno )

I came up as two, I tried to break the tie but it didn't work... Peh!

You are The Tower

Ambition, fighting, war, courage. Destruction, danger, fall, ruin.

The Tower represents war, destruction, but also spiritual renewal. Plans are disrupted. Your views and ideas will change as a result.

The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." You have been shaken up; blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

You are Strength

Courage, strength, fortitude. Power not arrested in the act of judgement, but passing on to further action, sometimes obstinacy.

This is a card of courage and energy. It represents both the Lion's hot, roaring energy, and the Maiden's steadfast will. The innocent Maiden is unafraid, undaunted, and indomitable. In some cards she opens the lion's mouth, in others she shuts it. Either way, she proves that inner strength is more powerful than raw physical strength. That forces can be controlled and used to score a victory is very close to the message of the Chariot, which might be why, in some decks, it is Justice that is card 8 instead of Strength. With strength you can control not only the situation, but yourself. It is a card about anger and impulse management, about creative answers, leadership and maintaining one's personal honor. It can also stand for a steadfast friend.

Now go out and throttle it:

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear. Except a creature be part coward it is not a compliment to say it is brave." Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar, 1894

"I studied the lives of great men and famous women, and I found that the men and women who got to the top were those who did the jobs they had in hand, with everything they had of energy and enthusiasm." Henry Truman

Leave me a comment, and I'll:

1. Tell you why I friended you.

2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a colour, a photo, etc.

3. Tell you something I like about you.

4. Tell you a memory I have of you.

5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.

6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.

7. In return, you can post this in your LJ if you want to.

Today, I'm predicting the Giants go down in a big ol' ball of ice... ;o) They are predicting 3 degrees at Game Time.

The coldest game in NFL history was the 1981 AFC championship game, played Jan. 10, 1982, at Cincinnati's Riverfront Stadium. The temperature was minus 9 degrees, and the wind chill plunged the readings to minus 59 as the Bengals beat San Diego 27-7.

Next was the Ice Bowl on Dec. 31, 1967 for the NFL title at Lambeau Field. The Packers beat Dallas 21-17 on Bart Starr's quarterback sneak in the final seconds. It was minus 13 that day and the wind chill factor was estimated at minus 48.

The temperature was 3 degrees with a wind chill of minus 17 on Jan. 12, 1997 when the Packers beat the Carolina Panthers, 30-13, to advance to Super Bowl XXXI.

So Eli...

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!?!?

??!!

Those are the fans, btw, cleaning the snow outta' Lambeau. When you own the team, every now and again you get to clean up for 'em too! ;o)

Oh, and one more graphic just because this makes me sniffle every time...

It's Hard to Say Goodbye - NFL

Posted Feb 04, 2007

For some football fans, it's very hard to say goodbye.

...and they brought the weather with 'em! The snow started up again yesterday evening and continued through the night with a vengeance. Downtown is wrapped in a shawl of white that can only be described as the perfect accesory choice for this evening's Green Bay festivities. My town, clearly, dressed for the occasion. ;o)



My flower pots are all but buried on the South patio -- this is the only one left visible and it's the tallest one at about 18" high.

Elliott, on the other hand, could care less about the snow. She likes to go out on the patio when I open it up, but this is the response I got this morning. Pathetic. Where's her team spirit?

*pshaw* I'm up, I'm working, yet can I complete my little project? No. Why? Business Credit and Major Accounts apparently aren't up and working until 6:00 a.m.. Whatev. Seriously, whatev.

Today being Friday, I should be coasting into my weekend with a spring in my step and a smile on my face, but it looks to be shaping up to be one more day in the trenches before I'm left to my own devices for 48 hours of R&R. Connect Telephone and Computer turns on the second phase of their activations this morning, Rocky Mountain Health Network upgrades, I have two proposals to submit and I'll be closing the store for Dan who's off to Vegas later today. I've got a tiny Beer Garage benefit after work, and a significant amount of kitchen cleaning to do as a result of a rather fabulous attempt at pecan pie yesterday night (I think I got the top a little crusty, but God damn if the thing ain't tasty anyway).

So, deep breath, head down, and just keep thinking, "only another fifteen hours to go."

It's a good thing I fucking love what I do.

Here's to kicking ass, taking names, and getting paid to do it...

Start by reading this.

Frank W. Richter


This is the obituary of a man I was privledged to know. He was my attorney's father, actually, and we met by chance as I was having lunch with his son. He wasted no time in chatting me up, and I wasted no time in buying another round and canceling my afternoon appointments. The world is full of dull people -- when you find an interesting one, pay attention.


Frank Sr. had an early birthday party on the sixth. Surrounded by family and friends who had flown in to celebrate his 100th year, he talked and shared and had a beer or two until nearly midnight rolled around. As the party ended, he toasted his friends and family. Eight hours later, he passed away peacefully. Today was his memorial, on the day of his 100th birthday. The man had style, and timing, and I cherish having known him.


He had a long life, a short death, and above all, a good story...

...the chopped locks. In a nice sepia tone, of course, because it looks more artsy that way... No, actually, it's just that in full color you can clearly see the look of carefully controlled distress creeping across my face and it's just not attractive. My hair is (was) my single point of female vanity and its absense is still causing me minor fits of identity crisis. My hair hasn't been this short since I was four. That's 25 years ago now, so let's just say I'm feeling a little nekkid here.

And earnestly hoping not to loose all my powers. Heh heh heh...

Elliott has called my apartment her home for a little over a week now. She's a considerate roommate: doesn't eat out of my fridge, no friends over late at night, and has only walked in on me in the bathroom once. We are becoming used to each other's schedules and habits, and can easily share sofa space in the evening while not requiring interaction in the morning as we stalk up and down the halls between the bathroom and kitchen. Overall, the arrangement seems to be working well. I pay the rent, she keeps an eye on the place while I'm gone. Realistically speaking, I'm not sure if sleeping 22 hours a day counts as "keeping an eye on the place" but I'll take what I can get in exchange for her quiet and unobtrusive company.

Good cats add to a place a sense of being lived in -- their energy is just enough to remind you that you share your space with someone else when you walk in the door at night. It's a comforting thought.

Elliott has decided to spend this Sunday much as I have: dozing and inactive (though I, at least, managed to come out from under the bed), so I have very few pics to share. I'll just toss out a few from the other day as she was roaming around when I happened to have the camera phone out:





I will never know how she breathes with her face smashed up against my leg like that... The white collar she has reminds me more of Border Collies than Bovines, so I started to refer to her as the "Collie Cat" as opposed to the "Cow Cat."






Her favorite position of comfort is what I refer to as "The Pillbug." She'll roll onto her back and her feet curl in and she looks like a dead Rolly Poly on the sidewalk.






As most cats do, she has her "look of disdain" down pat.






But, she has a pretty face regardless of how stand offish she tries to appear.






Indeed more of a "Collie Cat" than a "Cow Cat" but I think I'll keep her anyway. I think she likes it here.

The Amber Birthday is being revisited in tandem with my good friend Laura. Show up. Bring people. We don't care if we know them. Details are as follows:







It's time for a White Trash Bash!


As always, I'm shamelessly throwing myself a birthday party, and this year, the party's new and improved with a theme, and a chance to meet some new people. It's a joint birthday celebration for myself and my good buddy Laura Tode. We don't share the same birthday, but it's close enough!



Date: Wednesday, July 11, from 7ish to 11ish, come whenever, come as you are or humor us with a white trash getup.


Location: Laura's backyard (114 Ave D) Don't know where that is? Call me or drop me an e-mail for directions.


More specifically: Don't bring us anything. We mean this! We've got enough stuff, except beer is always good. Well, beer and fridge magnets (don't ask). We will have plenty of food, but there will be no high fallutin' stuff with artichoke hearts or gouda -- or anything that's not pre-packaged and laden with preservatives, for that matter. Heh heh heh...


Kids and dogs welcome, non-alcoholic beverages will be flowing as well. (Though we will grumble about the people who drink them.)


Here's some helpful white trash links to get you in the mood:

A quiz to find out how white trash you are:
http://www.whitetrashworld.com/quiz/quiz.php?quiz=newquizwtw


Need a date to the party?
http://www.whitetrashdates.com/match/search.html


Better yet, need a white trash name? Mine was "Jolene Crossbones" and Laura will be "Sugar Pie Hayroller."
http://www.trailertrashdoll.com/funpark/TrashyName/default.asp


Bring someone we haven't met and come find out what "Sweet Canadian Mullet" is all about!

The office, it seems, is turning into an episode of "Wild Kingdom." Meet "Zorro," the newest addition to the clan:






He's nearly as big as the spider, but much more fun to cuddle.