tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26471461781916412722024-03-06T00:36:52.996-05:00another good thingMother of two raises hell in the South- and elsewhere, while trying to jumpstart a writing careerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.comBlogger789125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-91328417802587610602015-05-20T16:14:00.005-04:002015-05-20T16:14:53.542-04:00Interviewing authors over on the other blog. A bunch of indies you really ought to know. Come on over to the dark side, where I'm all about the books and words and publishing horrors.<br />
But wait, there's also a crapload of good news. I promise.<br />
Linda's blog at <a href="http://lindasands.com/blog/" target="_blank"> lindasands.com</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-81058864880465566242015-03-04T13:48:00.002-05:002015-03-04T13:48:58.686-05:00Things I ALMOST Miss There are so many things I used to have, thought I needed, or simply wanted.<br />
Somedays I miss them—<br />
Until I remember how much upkeep and cost they entailed.<br />
Things like:<br />
<br />
A size 2 body<br />
A 50 gallon freshwater aquarium<br />
assorted houseplants in every room<br />
A large vegetable garden<br />
A summer <i>and</i> a winter wardrobe<br />
A size 2 body<br />
reptiles, any caged sort<br />
long, perfect fingernails<br />
multiple hairy dogs<br />
Fresh flower bouquets<br />
Did I mention a size 2 body?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-16231969351862565342015-03-02T19:17:00.001-05:002015-03-02T19:26:15.677-05:00Grunion Run plans, not at all like Cannonball Run.Have you ever seen this?<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/jtkMt0iu9Zg/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jtkMt0iu9Zg?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
I wrote about this phenomenon a long time ago, but have yet to witness it personally.<br />
<br />
I'd like to think my imagination was spot on, but... you'll have to read<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sack-They-Left-Behind-ebook/dp/B0058E392E/ref=la_B00596OLLY_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425340952&sr=1-7" target="_blank"> <i>The Sack They Left Behind</i> </a>and judge for yourself.<br />
And me, I think I may need a nice long trip back to the left coast just to check on those details and follow this story out of LA:<br />
<br />
At the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium, they are <a href="http://www.latimes.com/local/la-me-grunion15apr15-story.html#page=1" target="_blank">attempting to establish</a> a captive population of grunion, which means lots of volunteers with flashlights and pails to "milk" the females for eggs.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 27px;">"Grunion are prey fish -- almost everything eats them. Sea lions, sharks," said aquarium laboratory assistant Andres Carrillo, 25. "I fried some up and ate them myself. Once. Tasted like mackerel."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 27px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 27px;">well. there you go.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-1752235352350224042015-02-27T13:07:00.000-05:002015-02-27T13:07:05.691-05:00 They say it takes a village. I'm hoping it's a village of book lovers<div style="text-align: center;">
I've got some good news.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pop over <a href="http://linda-sands.com/when-you-the-people-you-the-readers-vote-to-publish-books-this-is-what-happens/" target="_blank">to the other blog</a> and have a drink on me.</div>
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<a href="http://www.odt.co.nz/files/story/2011/08/glasses_were_raised_at_the_wedding_of_kim_mccormac_4e5c2ff476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.odt.co.nz/files/story/2011/08/glasses_were_raised_at_the_wedding_of_kim_mccormac_4e5c2ff476.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
With my greatest appreciation.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-79505375418986690372015-02-09T13:58:00.002-05:002015-02-09T13:59:25.238-05:00Why wait for someone in NYC to tell you what to read? Vote for the books YOU love. <div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #1f1f1f; font-family: MuseoSans500, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px; margin-bottom: 0.8em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Check it out. </div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #1f1f1f; font-family: MuseoSans500, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px; margin-bottom: 0.8em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
It’s an exciting new way to get your unpublished book noticed by readers. It’s called the Kindle Scout program and each vote cast is tallied to select who makes it to publication. See? No casting couch here. Just you, and your NOMINATION button pushing finger.</div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #1f1f1f; font-family: MuseoSans500, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px; margin-bottom: 0.8em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Please, take a moment and change a life. Mine-and the life of this book. <a href="https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/1PHWVZEFGHF5O" style="background: transparent; border: 0px; color: #72c3b6; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Click here.</a></div>
<div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; color: #1f1f1f; font-family: MuseoSans500, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 30px; margin-bottom: 0.8em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Thank you.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-12227632145010404342014-12-29T15:14:00.000-05:002014-12-29T15:21:19.399-05:00The Annual Newsletter for 2014. Happy Holidays and Best Wishes for the New Year!<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">The 2014 Newsletter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">OUR DOG DIDN'T DIE AND THE
TRUCK'S STILL RUNNING BUT MAMMA'S GOT A SHOTGUN WITH A LOOSE BARREL<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">A few years
ago, I considered writing a Country Western song. Not to get rich, or become
famous—because we all know how things turn out if that's what you're striving
for in life. All I wanted to do was find a unique approach to the annual
newsletter, and maybe poke a little fun at the place we now consider home:
Georgia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm pretty sure that little ditty lives
on somewhere—maybe on a hard drive or in the scribbled pages of a notebook. When
I die y'all can sell it to Taylor Swift and split the millions. You've got my
blessing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Damn. That
sounds like a Country Western song right there: family, lost treasure, a dead
broad and blessings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Truth is,
sometimes I get an idea in my head and just can't shake it. Most people call
this crazy. Some, well, one person anyway, calls it "genius." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">That's why this
year you're getting a full-on Sandes Country Western rendition of our 2014. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">You could also
<span style="color: red;">BLAME IT ON THE MOONSHINE</span> or the fact that Linda
started the year in Key West, at the southernmost tip of the US of A. Or... because
she took her first trip to Nashville, Tennessee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Yessiree.
Music City! Also known as Cashvegas, The Home of the Honky Tonk, The Heart of
Country Music, The Soul of High Carb Living, Twang Town, Trashville, the Third
Coast, Rock City, Not Memphis, The Protestant Vatican, The Buckle of the Bible
Belt and my favorite: Nashvegas! Yeah, baby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a fantastic road trip from the
ATL. Two sassy gals in a Jaguar convertible with a trunk of wine and good
intentions. I prefer not to dwell on the redhead returning home with a broken
wrist—because what happens in Nashvegas, stays in Nashvegas—especially when
you're invited there to speak on a mystery panel. <span style="color: red;">(PARDON
ME) I'VE GOT SOMEONE TO KILL.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">In Twang Town,
country music blares out of every street corner speaker, every shop, bar and
restaurant. In the Buy 1, Get 2 Free Boot shop, we heard, <span style="color: red;">I BOUGHT THE SHOES THAT JUST WALKED OUT ON ME. </span>Over
lunch, we were serenaded by a sparkly-suited gentleman crooning, <span style="color: red;">IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER, I'D LIVE OVER A DELICATESSEN. </span>By
dinnertime, I was speaking in full-blown country-western song titles. Yep, <span style="color: red;">I MAY BE USED, BUT BABY I AIN'T USED UP.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Oh, you see where I'm going, don't you.
Yes, those are real life country western song titles. Well, most of them anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As usual, the even years are a time of settling-in
for us. Fixing things, making things, staying close to home and hearth. This
year, I learned <span style="color: red;">YOU CAN'T HAVE YOUR KATE AND EDITH,
TOO.</span><span style="color: #c0504d;"> </span>But that never stops me from
trying, even if—as we say in Bunco, <span style="color: red;">IT TAKES ME ALL
NIGHT LONG TO DO WHAT I USED TO DO ALL NIGHT LONG.</span><span style="color: #c0504d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">M worked his
butt off this year too. He was proud to say, <span style="color: red;">JIM, I
WORE A TIE TODAY</span>. If I didn't know better, I'd think his daily prayer
was, <span style="color: red;">DROP KICK ME, JESUS, THROUGH THE GOALPOSTS OF LIFE</span>.
He certainly put in some long hours at the office, while I thought, <span style="color: red;">I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO KILL MYSELF OR GO BOWLING</span>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, there was plenty of writing
and rewriting time, pestering the agent to pester the editors, telling them, <span style="color: red;">IF I AIN'T GOT IT, YOU DON'T NEED IT</span>. While the
topsy-turvy world of publishing had me saying, <span style="color: red;">I'VE GOT
THE HUNGRIES FOR YOUR LOVE AND I'M WAITING IN THE WELFARE LINE</span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Yeah, a girl's
got to believe in herself and stick to her guns, because <span style="color: red;">IF I CAN'T BE NUMBER ONE IN YOUR LIFE, THEN NUMBER TWO ON YOU</span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Trying to
helpful, M suggested he was <span style="color: red;">GONNA HIRE A WINO TO
DECORATE OUR HOME,</span> but<span style="color: red;"> </span>Linda rose to the
challenge and by spring, we had a new patio and were<span style="color: red;"> WALKING
ON SLIPPERY ROCKS TO FALL INTO YOU. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">In March,
Linda hosted her 12th birthday event, combining a St. Patrick's Day pub crawl
with a dancing party bus, inviting friends old and new. <span style="color: red;">DON'T WORRY DARLING POLISH VODKA WON'T MAKE YOUR CLOTHES FALL OFF.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one bar, M was heard to say, <span style="color: red;">I WISH I WAS A WOMAN, SO I COULD GO OUT WITH A GUY LIKE ME</span>.
At stop number three, a guy in a green wig assured him that was still possible
as Linda texted: <span style="color: red;">I WAS LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF YOU WERE
LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF I WAS LOOKING BACK TO SEE IF YOU WERE LOOKING BACK AT ME</span>.
The Milton cops thought it was funny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We concluded the wet months at a local (cheap)
version of the Kentucky Derby, slogging a bunch of folks to The Steeplechase
singing, <span style="color: red;">BEER FOR MY HORSES </span>while playing Cards
Against Humanity, because I'm the <span style="color: red;">QUEEN OF MY
DOUBLEWIDE TRAILER. </span>and<span style="color: red;"> SHE THINKS MY TRACTOR'S
SEXY</span>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the weather warmed, Linda blazed new
NC trails with her hiking buddy, Debbie. By the end of their escape they were
singing the camper's favorite tune: <span style="color: red;">I'D LIKE TO CHECK
YOU FOR TICKS. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Back home at
UGA, the boy<span style="color: red;"> </span>took some tough summer courses. <span style="color: red;">I'LL SUBLET YOUR UGLY APARTMENT, JUST STACK YOUR BOXES BY THE
DOOR</span> but <span style="color: red;">WHO'S GONNA MOW YOUR GRASS?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">The girl (<span style="color: red;">SHE GOT FRECKLES ON HER, BUT SHE'S PRETTY</span>) was
surprised by her friends with a Sweet 16 party, then took driving lessons from
a female bodybuilder/stand-up comic/substitute teacher, whose lessons included <span style="color: red;">IF LOVE WERE OIL, I'D BE A QUART LOW </span>and<span style="color: red;"> IT'S NOT THE HIGH COST OF LIVING, IT'S THE COST OF LIVING
HIGH.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Yes, it was a
good year. Pretty sure <span style="color: red;">THERE AIN'T ENOUGH ROOM IN MY
FRUIT OF THE LOOMS TO HOLD ALL MY LOVIN' FOR YOU. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">In Florida, we
had<span style="color: red;"> </span>plenty of beach time with a house full of
females, learning, <span style="color: red;">YOU CAN LOCK ME UP IN JAIL AND THROW
AWAY THE KEY BUT YOU CAN'T STOP MY FACE FROM BREAKING OUT. </span>The boy went
back to school and got his first apartment saying, <span style="color: red;">I'M
A GROWN ASS MAN, BUT MAMA CAN YOU HANG MY DRAPES?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">And of course,
there were outings to DRAGON CON: <span style="color: red;">I DON'T KNOW WHETHER
TO COME HOME OR GO CRAZY</span>, the Decatur Book Festival: <span style="color: red;">MY RED NECK, MY WHITE SOCKS AND MY BLUE RIBBON BEER</span>,
and Netherworld with the besties, where <span style="color: red;">I SAT DOWN ON A
BEAR TRAP</span>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">In the fall, s
an anniversary gift, M finally kept his promise to join Linda backpacking. <span style="color: red;">SHE TOLD ME TO TAKE A HIKE AND I DID, HOLDING HER HAND.</span>
Though he was heard to murmur <span style="color: red;">I'D RATHER HAVE A BOTTLE
IN FRONT OF ME THAN A FRONTAL LOBOTOMY</span> before agreeing. It was just one
night and he admitted that <span style="color: red;">SLEEPING IN THE WOODS IS
GRAND EXCEPT FOR THE SPIDERS ON MY FACE.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">With the kids
back at school, Linda got busy finishing the fifth book and planning more Girls
Night Out Events, sad to learn <span style="color: red;">YOU CAN'T ROLLERSKATE IN
A BUFFALO HERD</span>. But you can shoo your husband off to Poker Night, even
if he says, <span style="color: red;">I'D RATHER PLAY POKER WITH YOUR DOG, HE MAY
BITE BUT HE DON'T WHINE HALF AS MUCH AS YOU.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">THERE'S
A TEAR IN MY BEER </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">as I
realize my kids are no longer babies because <span style="color: red;">I JUST
BOUGHT A CAR FROM THE GUY THAT STOLE MY GIRL, BUT THE CAR DON'T RUN SO I FIGURE
WE GOT AN EVEN DEAL.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">I prefer not
to dwell on the hole in pocket but <span style="color: red;">IF I HAD A NOSE FULL
OF NICKLES, I'D SNEEZE THEM ALL ATCHOO.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Even after
taking a <span style="color: red;">REFRIED DREAMS </span>cooking class with M: <span style="color: red;">SADDLE UP THE STOVE MOM, I'M RIDING THE RANGE TONIGHT</span>,
he made a kitchen faux pas by grabbing a wrapped package from the freezer in GA
and driving it all the way to FL not checking it.<span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">So on
Christmas day, we had a beautiful little roaster chicken instead of a fat round
turkey breast. In the end, poultry is still poultry and there's nothing sweeter
than family puzzle time while doing the <span style="color: red;">POULTRY
PROMENADE</span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, watching a bunch of old home
movies, I experienced a <span style="color: red;">TRAINWECK OF EMOTION</span>
mixed with feelings of that dream where <span style="color: red;">THE BRIDGE
WASHED OUT AND I CAN'T SWIM AND MY BABY'S ON THE OTHER SIDE. </span>Maybe it's
true,<span style="color: red;"> I'D RATHER HEAR A FAT GIRL FART THAN A PRETTY BOY
SING.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">After a week,
it became apparent: there is such a thing as too much family beach time when
one is <span style="color: red;">OVER LONELY AND UNDERKISSED,</span> and <span style="color: red;">MY GIVE-A -DAMN'S BUSTED</span>. Or maybe that's just fodder
for more shitty songs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All in all, we've had a great year,
stealing our moments when we can, building new friendships and making plans for
another fantastic year of opportunities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hope to see all of you and raise a
toast to the happiness you create regardless of circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Be well. Smile
often and dance, dance, dance. Because <span style="color: red;">I STILL MISS YOU
BABY, BUT MY AIM'S GETTING BETTER.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">Happy Holidays
and best wishes for 2015!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you've missed any of the previous
years, or are just looking for some bathroom reading, a bunch of the old
letters are <a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/search/label/Christmas" target="_blank">posted here on this blog</a>, along with an assortment of ornaments, errr... pornaments* that I've fashioned over the years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">*WARNING
Adults Only<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-26335632724783737362014-10-07T15:13:00.002-04:002014-10-07T15:13:40.814-04:00Not quite Gone Girl. But, I was missing for three months.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.allclearinvestigations.com/images/missingperson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.allclearinvestigations.com/images/missingperson.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It wasn't on purpose. Well, not really. How do you fall out of habits, into habits?<br />
It used to be that the wonderful BlogHer folks would send me an email reminding me that I had not posted in two weeks. Imagine that? Two weeks without an update. <br />
But that was in the days where a blogger was like a Facebook friend. I had my list of favorites and I spent every other morning scrolling the list and catching up on my "pals."<br />
Thing is, it can take a while to read a 1000 word post, watch their videos, or check out ALL the vacation photos...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.iwanttogetlean.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/192/2014/05/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.iwanttogetlean.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/192/2014/05/1.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After a while I began to resent the wasted hours and started seeing these bloggers as pathetic egotists, horrible spouses and generally bad parents. All right, not all of them but the ones with the most viewed- most controversial- posts.<br />
<br />
And there was the problem.<br />
If I wouldn't be this person's friend in real life, why was I following their blog? Why couldn't I turn away <a href="http://hellogiggles.com/stay-together-for-the-blog-coping-when-your-favorite-blogger-gets-divorced/#read" target="_blank">from the train wrecks? </a>And what did all that say about me and my blog?<br />
Yep. it got too deep.<br />
So, I weaned myself away. In the last three years I've moved off blogs and Facebook to Instagram, Pinterest and Vine. I swore to never start Tumblr, instead running away to Twitter, where, if you can't say it in a 130 characters, maybe you shouldn't be saying it at all.<br />
I can follow a thousand people's tweets, have conversations and still get all my errands done and keep the word count up on the novel in progress. It's fast and I love the hashtag freedom. Sure, it's tougher to build a true following, but it's freeing. And after all, it's not my job. it's just part of my social life.<br />
So, that's what I was doing the last three months. I was writing book two of the CARGO series. I was working on rewrites and a new "secret" project, or two.<br />
I was hiking in the mountains and backpacking in NC. I was designing and executing a patio. I taught myself how to sew drapes, hit a golf ball and finished decorating my daughter's bedroom, all between getting my son established in college- 2 sessions- 2 apartments, and coordinating all the things that need coordinating when you have vacation property.<br />
I'm trying to not feel obligated to blog here- or over on the writing site. But I do. Especially over there, where that space was designed for me to weigh in on career choices, on writing and writers I adore.<br />
If it weren't deemed important in the publishing industry to have an FB page- or three, ( for branding) I would delete it all. Because young folks, cool folks, the next generation? They aren't there. But. Old people like Facebook. And old people still read books. I know, because I'm one of them.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-27564004123942841832014-06-27T15:43:00.000-04:002014-06-27T15:43:32.305-04:00When your mom really knows you.When your mom really knows you, she'll take time out of her day to send you a note like this:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Uncle Andrew showed us a new wine, that I thought was right up your alley, maybe you saw it already its called <b>If You See Kay</b>, its imported from Italy and some of the stores in the US are not happy with the name especially some liquor stores in NH. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I told Andrew that's one Linda will go out and buy for her next party. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Look it up on line there's a whole long story that goes along with the name.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">So, of course I looked it up.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> Rachel Tepper for The Huffington Post wrote about it<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/22/if-you-see-kay-2010_n_2001480.html" target="_blank"> here</a>. She says it better than me, so go there, read it and like it and follow her posts.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> The wine's from <a href="https://www.hundredacre.com/content/index.html?CFID=6886977&CFTOKEN=41364874" target="_blank">this awesome winery</a> in Rutherford, CA. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> A fellow wine lover says this about it: "It's a very good Cabernet Sauvignon blend (Primitivo and Petite Verdot grapes) from Lazio, Italy that's rich in color and body. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">The bottle looks like this:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__no33QGYojybD2gQSd9m6L1wAq53RtV56BGCzjeVIVtlyeqSawwd-ATGpQLKBfgCiKeGziY8pzsoZozFND0PVS2pr6__uVEDBEpURyica-lKqcuzo4ZJPQGsojAXVWe2ul_Cnny5UCY/s1600/IF+you+see+kay+wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__no33QGYojybD2gQSd9m6L1wAq53RtV56BGCzjeVIVtlyeqSawwd-ATGpQLKBfgCiKeGziY8pzsoZozFND0PVS2pr6__uVEDBEpURyica-lKqcuzo4ZJPQGsojAXVWe2ul_Cnny5UCY/s1600/IF+you+see+kay+wine.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Or or closer inspection... like this.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2de0I78XTe6tC6y1jyj73Vew70rXN8m_vYhVljsO6MHr4kOjqOKj70aS2ENGYIBJwuh-tm3UTgSnND3TuugyKU8p6aI6A7L44ftxnyqUMRIV2TuyK48X94yMoJBp8jF_8r8_f9QdqeU/s1600/o-IF-YOU-SEE-KAY-570.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2de0I78XTe6tC6y1jyj73Vew70rXN8m_vYhVljsO6MHr4kOjqOKj70aS2ENGYIBJwuh-tm3UTgSnND3TuugyKU8p6aI6A7L44ftxnyqUMRIV2TuyK48X94yMoJBp8jF_8r8_f9QdqeU/s1600/o-IF-YOU-SEE-KAY-570.jpg" height="248" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> Hundred Acre says this about the gal on the bottle: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 15.333333015441895px; line-height: 21px;">kay is a creature; she is an embodiment of a lifestyle, a genre, a feeling in your gut. kay is a force of nature, a </span><span class="skimlinks-unlinked" style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 15.333333015441895px; line-height: 21px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">wanderer.She</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 15.333333015441895px; line-height: 21px;"> represents the philosophy of “Wide Open Throttle or don’t bother doing it at all”. She’s not trying to be, she just is. Always uncontrollable, She’s wanted.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f0f0f0; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Century, Times, serif; font-size: 15.333333015441895px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;">And now? I'm thinking of changing my name to Kay.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-31171717789466132722014-04-14T12:20:00.002-04:002014-04-14T17:11:07.198-04:00When your father turns 80, you get on a plane, even if your dress is backwards. SURPRISE!<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> My Dad turned 80 on April 3rd.</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I broke the law to send him a gift- the kind of gift I'll want when I'm 80, excellent booze and something big and fat to smoke. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Actually turns out I broke several laws in the purchasing,transporting, and later, shipping of said gifts.</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I am such a rebel. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Thank you, Cuba, Key West, TSA, Bob's Liquor of GA and FedEx.)</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Bath products?? hahahahah</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My sisters planned a nice little family and friends gathering. I had plans in GA right up to the event date, so wasn't thinking I'd be able to go, but last minute, the hubster bought the plane ticket and pushed me out the door at 4 am... Three hours after I went to bed, btw.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did you know that the one way to avoid horrendous daily Atlanta traffic is to drive it's virtually empty highways at 4:30 am? The usual 45 minute to 1.5 hr trek to the heart of downtown took merely 23 minutes. With roads that empty, me going speeds that high, it was like a scene the first season of Walking Dead, minus the zombies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had some social media pals make two birthday videos for me to present to my Dad- sort of an inside joke, and something he could get a kick out of. We have the same twisted humor, and share a love of magic.</span><br />
<br />
Here's the magic trick for my Dad, Jack.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iqeuynYsgzk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Mont is available for live magic events, and also is a hypnotist. He can help you quit smoking, reduce stress or lose weight. Or just have him come to your party and make your friends act like chickens and dance ballet in your living room.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.montmagic.com/" target="_blank">MONT MAGIC </a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I also had an Irish comedian make a mock up of the famous Marilyn Monroe Happy Birthday, Mr. President song. ( I love the youtube videos of her appearing late to the stage, the awkwardness of her drunkenness, the way Mr. President is busted and yet America doesn't get it... or do they? I wish only that the camera had panned to Jackie O's face... just once.)</div>
<br />
The real Marilyn.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/EqolSvoWNck?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
This is Mark Manning, an Irish radio and TV broadcaster and voice-over artist, with a brilliant sense of humor, wishing my Dad a happy birthday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GnT1B5BTzYk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
(one correction: Cookie is not 58. She's 78, but they have been married 58 years in June)<br />
Hire Mark <a href="http://voice123.com/markmanning" target="_blank">here </a>for professional jobs. He does a lot of corporate work, but you can also have him do his Roger Moore impersonation to make someone's Bond loving day, <a href="http://www.fiverr.com/begorrah_2013" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
I tried out the videos on my phone in a crowded bar on Friday night for my Iowa pal, Nancy. She laughed and blushed and was genuinely afraid... Yep. I knew I had a hit on my hands, plus the techno part worked. So. yay.<br />
Fast forward to Saturday afternoon. ( the short version: park, wait, flight, wait, flight, rent, park, shower, drive, get lost, drive, arrive)<br />
<br />
No one knew I was coming. All I knew was the dinner part was a lobster boil in the garage at one of my sister's houses and lots of people were invited, event to begin at 3pm. My mother mentioned something in an email about Dad not wanting a big fuss, <i>but wait until he sees what it's all about</i>...<br />
My imagination wheels started grinding as I drove the last half mile to the house and saw a bigass stretch Hummer limo on the side of the road. It was well after 3pm...<br />
<i> Uh oh</i><br />
Me: I should have called ahead, or at least texted someone. Crap. They've been doing pudding shots and drinking for an hour, and are now all in that kickass Hummer off to meet Jack's childhood friends and all the old neighbors at some wild party with strippers and flame eaters and Cirque du Soleil hot men in tights serving martinis and feeding people vodka infused gummy bears. They'll be dancing and singing and partying the night away at some secret location, with projected slides of Jack from age 1-80 bouncing off tented walls, where hot girls on trapeze swings rain down cigars and Ecstasy. And I'm going to miss it all. SHIT.<br />
<br />
We Will Now Pause For A Reality Check Moment<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYOasLWxXiFEJhY2lL20_Fsmc7EmLNYY_bDdycOaLr12t5AA_-H2WtWPjw5eQL-7oM9okjArS6f9-2iHzE2DrRXTBlWLrO4NTx4WbnhkogIQmkOEWWR3c8VEwhHGVz5YmvCbX_vsz22s/s1600/disappointed+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYOasLWxXiFEJhY2lL20_Fsmc7EmLNYY_bDdycOaLr12t5AA_-H2WtWPjw5eQL-7oM9okjArS6f9-2iHzE2DrRXTBlWLrO4NTx4WbnhkogIQmkOEWWR3c8VEwhHGVz5YmvCbX_vsz22s/s1600/disappointed+gif.gif" height="148" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
So, yeah. The Stretch Hummer? Local Prom Night. The men in tights? More like nephews in jeans. Hot girls on trapeze swings? Not so much, more like my three sisters reminding me of the backyard swing set. The same one Mom ran the riding mower up one summer. (Where was <i>Vine</i> then??)<br />
<br />
But you know what?<br />
We didn't need pudding shots or Ecstasy. We had this.<br />
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We had family.<br />
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Yes, this little boy<br />
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grew up and became Daddy to these little girls<br />
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who gave him these grandkids</div>
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and these, too.<br />
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These was a lot of beer and wine at Jack's 80th, some homemade, even! I need to try that. My nephew makes a mean Strawberry Wine. (not sure he was sold on naming it after me. Would you buy <b>Aunt Linda's Hangover Helper</b>?)<br />
We caught up, told stories and apparently did a lot of pointing<br />
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We had our own version of hotness. hot things. Men and their fire...<br />
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and their hats! I love this.<br />
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Wanna see an awesome salt and pepper set?<br />
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Jack didn't get strippers, but he did get lobster. </div>
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Next year? He deserves strippers clad only in gold bikinis and lobster bibs to crack open and serve him lobster, drenched in butter. Cue video.</div>
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There was CAKE!<br />
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There was outdoor sky fishing.<br />
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Look! The elusive windy mylar trout! A delicacy in 5 states.<br />
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We lit Chinese lanterns-which should be called floating tree fire starters.<br />
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Oops.<br />
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Am pretty sure some neighbor reported a UFO.<br />
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It's April. So still ...winter in CNY. So, we had a bonfire.<br />
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With these lovely ladies. That's my 78 year old mom. Not. Kidding. </div>
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She's hot, right?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMBMmg8qJp_SQBZRHRxgS7iy9u4ZPt1HermHSC02UNbDsJKKAfTzxKY1rAbMPjNCi2d3nO9k3UsDb8g-yhE5rMiNUDm9H3wKYqZ6q_UYHLUROsUWgaYTPhl9tW53qu-tI-TPqaeWnC7g/s1600/10013004_10203party+ladies368141634622_4242553854458932805_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMBMmg8qJp_SQBZRHRxgS7iy9u4ZPt1HermHSC02UNbDsJKKAfTzxKY1rAbMPjNCi2d3nO9k3UsDb8g-yhE5rMiNUDm9H3wKYqZ6q_UYHLUROsUWgaYTPhl9tW53qu-tI-TPqaeWnC7g/s1600/10013004_10203party+ladies368141634622_4242553854458932805_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Bonfires can be dangerous. </div>
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Sometimes it all depends on who you are sitting next to.</div>
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Maybe that's sibling affection. I sure hope she wasn't offended by the T-shirt I brought her? <br />
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(Specially printed up in matching colors for the Sister Weekend That Wasn't) <br />
*sidenote I have never had so many party photos of the back of my head. :)<br />
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The fire was still going when we went home tipsy, smelling all outdoorsy and lobstery, and watched the birthday videos again, while finishing off the Crown Royal Reserve. It was great.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2zg2T9LzevzeMjo-8Hv3rb_61y5yjgSBmZdRb7FvpN11Uv4lZMiXxUFPZ2OTKBD6AbtSkagDBhvVp9Gx8SoAZCd2yhGbdck-ajQOmDlEMNq7y0d35MAPHKnx5feQyr_c-U-oEJhyphenhyphenJ-o/s1600/SAM_0914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD2zg2T9LzevzeMjo-8Hv3rb_61y5yjgSBmZdRb7FvpN11Uv4lZMiXxUFPZ2OTKBD6AbtSkagDBhvVp9Gx8SoAZCd2yhGbdck-ajQOmDlEMNq7y0d35MAPHKnx5feQyr_c-U-oEJhyphenhyphenJ-o/s1600/SAM_0914.JPG" height="335" width="400" /></a></div>
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More than great. I'd do it all over again for this. Priceless.</div>
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Happy Birthday, Dad.<br />
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Thank you for making me the woman I am today.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-34601841476513561642014-04-08T09:13:00.001-04:002014-04-09T11:17:58.391-04:00It was my birthday, bitches.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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SO, Of course, I wore this shirt.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAjBPfH8mduDX_aUkM3_XSpKS0xgdknu87gthqXl0RW-Fc86wTC0vAKUh3RrhkTr44G4IXnWZTrbZz_Bap1HAvSjmw18drdXw285MxckI0QdRd4bFlWDnvtSXDwQregKOejzwOXSJHvA/s1600/IMG_4022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIAjBPfH8mduDX_aUkM3_XSpKS0xgdknu87gthqXl0RW-Fc86wTC0vAKUh3RrhkTr44G4IXnWZTrbZz_Bap1HAvSjmw18drdXw285MxckI0QdRd4bFlWDnvtSXDwQregKOejzwOXSJHvA/s1600/IMG_4022.jpg" height="400" title="" width="295" /></a></div>
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This was the 12th year of giving myself a birthday party. Sure, the hubby helps with some of the details, and ideas... and he does has the final say on the cost, but mostly, I think about a party I'd like to get invited to and then I make that happen for my friends. If you don't get my annual newsletter, you may have read about some of these past parties<a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/2009/03/mom-accused-of-acting-like-14-year-old.html" target="_blank"> here </a>or <a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/2011/04/tsunami-of-backlogged-posts-1.html" target="_blank">here </a>or seen a video <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wew26G69lL8" target="_blank">here,</a> or just stalked the pictures on one of my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sands.linda" target="_blank">Facebook</a> pages. It's ok. Everyone has a secret.<br />
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I figured there was no better way to turn 51, than to make sure a great deal of beer was involved. Enter the date selection of MARCH 15. The closest Saturday to the biggest green beer holiday in the USA.<br />
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So, of course,we rented a bus. Not the big charter thing that took us to the Sweetwater Festival and the comedy club a few years back, but a super cool party bus for 40. Check it out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha52Yt7XuG6A84PCjEPyKSI4NdfkjVWu4a6wFDc_h_Qp6i50TqK21sla1jign37cvI1DQJQqIELjICRog9SNMNcHNkD00_ag4XtR3jXLbHz8GkUdGWEFeAyA1J5Y8K5iVmjZtIK2EZ6eM/s1600/IMG_3911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha52Yt7XuG6A84PCjEPyKSI4NdfkjVWu4a6wFDc_h_Qp6i50TqK21sla1jign37cvI1DQJQqIELjICRog9SNMNcHNkD00_ag4XtR3jXLbHz8GkUdGWEFeAyA1J5Y8K5iVmjZtIK2EZ6eM/s1600/IMG_3911.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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We picked up some leprechauns, loaded up a bucket of beers, filled the coolers with booze and donned the green.<br />
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The entrance fee for the party bus was a bottle of vodka per couple. Some people thought that was too much vodka. Some people don't know Linda very well yet. This is me mixing up the first lemon drop shots.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aD2yk9vyiQ_LoaqgcKWP8VyfdJzTZRhYLxyid6LsI0xl4iQpgn93Uq7n6uRdT_KtCcrGxmn9PeVS7KyvCMZ1DnOJMthUAWPZTADRbmQL45cqU1BRMh2-N0JhmYPwgZViBdG2BGBTwIM/s1600/IMG_4118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aD2yk9vyiQ_LoaqgcKWP8VyfdJzTZRhYLxyid6LsI0xl4iQpgn93Uq7n6uRdT_KtCcrGxmn9PeVS7KyvCMZ1DnOJMthUAWPZTADRbmQL45cqU1BRMh2-N0JhmYPwgZViBdG2BGBTwIM/s1600/IMG_4118.JPG" height="300" title="" width="400" /></a></div>
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Happy smiling people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b9naj1sEV9RW9YbmVIgeKc6pBop2vQJqa8WU1w0xc7DLIjzmDn-vpcU0cHB3p343AaUyN6XOJYN2_ZVpMLoO5LbYTlNRQHAahe0BEyDxJfnAcs1w5KySarMI-BKN8vKA_xFnItyvVNM/s1600/IMG_4027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b9naj1sEV9RW9YbmVIgeKc6pBop2vQJqa8WU1w0xc7DLIjzmDn-vpcU0cHB3p343AaUyN6XOJYN2_ZVpMLoO5LbYTlNRQHAahe0BEyDxJfnAcs1w5KySarMI-BKN8vKA_xFnItyvVNM/s1600/IMG_4027.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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We went off searching for this. The elusive layered jello shot of Ireland.<br />
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Getting closer.</div>
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Here we are, arriving at Mac McGee's where the doorman assured us he needed no ID or cover charge. "Not if you're pulling up in that!" he said.</div>
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We took our green decor seriously, even the bus laser light show cooperated.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-VQ4KPVZOjqXI6iO6H6u1mIQafeZFbYFbHMwvwJSRklboNWrIga75kVb5hTCdiCyRWMTGXfAgzNjdE7-Khxv2V1b1v6rwEb3azeHKq_kc8szjC6Isjw-8aY24x0bX4e2rriO8v2HUC4/s1600/IMG_4024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-VQ4KPVZOjqXI6iO6H6u1mIQafeZFbYFbHMwvwJSRklboNWrIga75kVb5hTCdiCyRWMTGXfAgzNjdE7-Khxv2V1b1v6rwEb3azeHKq_kc8szjC6Isjw-8aY24x0bX4e2rriO8v2HUC4/s1600/IMG_4024.JPG" height="400" title="" width="400" /></a></div>
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We danced a jig as the Highlanders played, or wait, something smelled funny.</div>
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These guys cut a wide path through the bar</div>
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especially with the slam banging drummer with his big guns... and gut. ;)<br />
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Back in the bus. The stickers say, "It's all about Linda." The hubster's idea.<br />
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Cheese!</div>
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Wait. Is that an empty cup? GARCON!</div>
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Our bus was famous. Look! It's Lady Gaga and George Clooney!<br />
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This dude really wanted a ride. We wanted to know what was under his kilt.</div>
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This might be direction giving, or dollar drying, or dance instructions...<br />
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Lots of people stopped me to read my shirt. I met an awful lot of Teds.<br />
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On our way to the next stop, things got a little blurry.</div>
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Kinda like this guy's fashion sense. But he sure pulled the ladies.<br />
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We met a few dogs. This one had 4 legs. Very long legs.</div>
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Our new gal pal was not shy about showing off her large assets.</div>
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Somewhere along the way, I needed to be fed. Swear that was a french fry.<br />
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Photo op! I have missed these girls.<br />
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Why yes, there was dancing.<br />
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And for once, I was glad to see the cops.<br />
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This is what happens when the big dog leaves, and we miss him.</div>
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Surgeon General reports excessive partying may cause orange beard growth.<br />
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Right on time, the bus arrives to scoop us up.</div>
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Here we are moments later, sounding off for a head count.<br />
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Oops. We left one behind. Time to initiate Mission Saving Private Barry.<br />
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The entertaining of the troops.</div>
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'Nuf said.<br />
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Back home, we had a birthday tart.</div>
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With all these... tarts!</div>
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There was also cake.</div>
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Glad the number of candles wasn't exact...</div>
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What a fun day. Thanks to all my old and new friends.<br />
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Now, let's have a little karaoke time.<br />
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Oh yes, we did.</div>
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If I was going to sum up the 51st birthday in one picture.</div>
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It would have to be this.</div>
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Until next year, bitches.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-46016745756487241022014-03-03T14:16:00.001-05:002014-04-08T09:14:46.817-04:00We put the OY in Oyster Festival.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It started out innocently enough. Me and KB, a nice New Jersey Jewish Girl, with me, the NY/CA/NH/PA/GA girl. There were lots of signs telling us where to go. Uphill. OY!<br />
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There was the handbag check. False bottoms would have worked, as she barely checked and the guy in front of me snuck in his water bottle by jamming it under his flabby gut.<br />
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This dude thought he was pretty cool. And the angry chick? She was just singing. She only dropped one beer and fell down once while we were near her.<br />
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Look, deer and beer. Get it? I got a free Jagerbomb from the biker dude at the Bloody Mary tent. You do not want to know more.<br />
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This guitarist was sort of like Ozzy. Well, in that he had bad hair and was British. The band was called The Whizzers and Something?? OY!<br />
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These guys grilled a whole truckload of oysters. they were hot. The oysters. not the guys. The guys were sweaty.<br />
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These girls are saying, "But that's not what an oyster looks like. It's supposed to be on a plate with lemon and a fork, and a side of rice." OY!<br />
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There were fancy table coverings everywhere. I felt like a Princess!<br />
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KB found the ugliest oyster ever. We mocked it, then we sliced it open and ate it. Sorta like a girl fight.<br />
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The celebrity anti-tongue salute. OY!<br />
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This is my finger 8 hours later, waiting for the MARTA train. The knuckle swelled up and bruised in another 3 hours. We are blaming the Oyster shucking knife. OY!<br />
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This is our bucket of remains. Some others added to it and one guy came around and tried to steal our previously stolen lemons. Hey. What happens at the Oyster festival, stays at the Oyster Festival... unless you're reading this.<br />
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We walked away from this place when it had a thirty person line. and then came back to try again, because hello? your tents are only serving BUDWEISER. OY!<br />
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This girl was telling her date how she wants him to um, dance with her later.</div>
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Maybe she will dress like this. Wait. Is that a snow shovel? OY!</div>
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We went to a corner bar first. Across the street was this beautiful sight. I took bets on how many Midtown Hipsters would try to drag that back to their loft.<br />
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We went to sit in the sun, up there, with some new friends. We ate meals that we forgot we ate. Thanks to the receipt crumpled in the bottom of my purse, we remembered later, and also noticed we paid for a shitload of drinks and someone's lobster roll. OY!<br />
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I won this shirt. Some old man tried to knock me down and take it. I gave him the stink eye and he backed off. Later, I gifted it to a guy at the bar as a prize for having the bushiest beard not on Duck Dynasty. I don't think he wanted it either.<br />
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Here we are trying to look at two different cameras for a photo op. We had just tried promo Fireball shots. Yep. OY!<br />
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This. Is. A. Midtown. Bartender. You may look away now.<br />
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It gets prettier at night, you notice?<br />
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Artful attempt number 503, according to my I-phone camera roll. OY!<br />
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So that was an early start to my birthday month. Next up, Comedy night and strange dancing people: When Highland legs meet Latino feet on a skinny white girl. Stay tuned.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-23602968778570280822014-02-10T12:03:00.000-05:002014-02-10T12:03:09.052-05:00Welcome to 2014I used to get reminders from BlogHer when I didn't post anything for a two week span. It helped, those reminders, sort of like a homework assignment, or a work deadline.<br />
Left to my own devices, I was probably spending way too much time skimming pages on Pinterest for decor ideas, or sending away for land brochures and bookmarking fashion pages for shit I don't need or can't afford.<br />
Or maybe I was doing this.<br />
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There were those chunks of days I dedicated to writing, and even bigger day chunks spent editing, submitting, revising ... so, that's something, because it's all about the AMOUNT of creative work you produce over your lifetime that will lead to greatest success ... according to a recent NPR episode that I chose to listen to rather than study my Spanish lesson.<br />
At least I wasn't doing this.<br />
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So, that's something.<br />
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I have managed to corrupt, I mean entertain, a whole new group of players by starting a monthly Girls Night Out. I love these ladies. We laugh. A lot.<br />
There's also Book Club and Bunco, Poker for the boys and of course, a regular schedule of yoga and weight training, because some days I need to go out in the world and eavesdrop to get the perfect combination of imagination, dreamland and reality into a scene.<br />
On that note, things are progressing with the pitching of the book/s. All good news and all very exciting. I've got the right people around me and the cards are finally in place.<br />
And I've got a bunch more flash fiction in the stack, now that I've decided once and for all to write without the self-editing/inhibiting questions of <i>what would that person think </i>or <i>how would that group of people feel... </i><br />
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I encourage you to go out there and attack life this year. Find your passion. Seek what fuels you. Enjoy life, don't merely go through the motions. Dump negativity and surround yourself with people and things- if that's your kick- that make you feel good.<br />
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I'll be back in a few. Stay out of trouble. Dance. A lot. And eat healthy.<br />
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Maybe get a Roomba.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-28107279505634446672013-12-03T14:48:00.000-05:002013-12-03T14:48:44.309-05:00Let's talk Jaguars. Not the team, not the cats. The cars, people. The. Cars.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What do you get when you combine one amusement park, multiple drivers including one very excited car-loving blonde and a bunch of sleek new Jaguars?</div>
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Answer? A whole lot of fun. Also called The Jaguar ALIVE Driving Experience.<br />
It wasn't easy to find my way into the closed park. Thank goodness a Jaguar passed by me slow enough to follow. We made a nice little parade. My XKR following his XF. <br />
The check-in at the hospitality suite was quick and painless, and soon we were ushered into the outside tent (drizzly weather had just stopped) for an introduction to the vehicles, prices, models, features, all the stuff a brochure would tell you more succinctly than I. <a href="http://www.jaguarusa.com/all-models/all-models/index.html" target="_blank">Check it out here.</a><br />
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Next up was a quick talk about Jaguar Technology, like Dynamic Stability Control, AWD and three separate driving modes, plus the one no one wanted to hear about.... the Automatic Speed Limiter. But talk wasn't enough. You have to drive it to feel it. There were car choices of the XF and XJ, both with AWD.<br />
I teamed up with my new Jag loving pal, Tyrone and we got to run through some hazards in different modes, testing the accident avoidance features. There was a slippery hill, a skidding turn, a bumpy road and some twists and turns. All fun, and in the extra long XJLR, it was a luxurious way to enjoy backseat driving, unless I'm driving, then hold onto your cucumber water! <br />
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Tyrone said that last year at the same event there was more driving, both on the track and around town, and more cars. Later we learned that due to some sort of internal costs things had been cut back. I wondered if anyone ever tried or succeeded in stealing a car from the event— then I wrote a story in my head where someone did.<br />
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We made our way to the next tent for JAGUAR DYNAMICS, where we were able to drive two cars, XKR and XFR all 2014 models. I drove the XKR coupe. It was pretty cool to hear, "OK. Now floor it! Pedal to the ground!" instead blue lights and sirens. That was one smooth trip from 0 to 60, and a few heart pounding turns back to the tent.<br />
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Where I went along for a two-fer ride in the XFR with Tyrone at the wheel first.<br />
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This is my face after he told me he gets his "ya-yas" out by driving race cars every weekend. It was probably also his face when I drove one-handed and got yelled at by the instructor.<br />
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This is the dash and the backseat. I love the two tone interior and clean dashboard.<br />
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By the way, no one had to tell Tyrone to put the pedal to the floor.<br />
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Next up was the one we were both waiting for: PERFORMANCE and a bevy of F type convertibles to choose from. ( it's what's under the hood that will really make the difference.)<br />
*From Jaguar site:<br />
<h2 style="background-color: #f3f3f3; border: 0px; font-family: 'Proxima Nova', 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.4em; font-weight: 500; letter-spacing: 0.2em; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 1em; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">
YOUR F-TYPE</h2>
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There are four models in the F-TYPE range. While each offers its own distinctive characteristics, all are equally at home on mountain switchbacks, on the highway or in the city.<br />The F-TYPE is designed to deliver pure driving pleasure.<br />The F-TYPE S adds greater power and sophisticated suspension technologies for increased balance and performance.<br />The F-TYPE V8 S Convertible provides exotic-car performance and greater levels of dynamic capability and control.<br />The F-TYPE R Coupe delivers supercar levels of performance combined with advanced dynamic technologies for the ultimate driver focused experience.</div>
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Most impressive non-performance feature? The z-fold bootless roof. I drive a convertible, but mine has a boot and the roof takes a little more than 12 seconds to go up or down. Not in this baby. Course, mine is also a bit larger... Here. Hold my purse. Leave the golf clubs at home.<br />
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WHEW. That was awesome. Then it was back inside for goodie bags and snacks.<br />
Of course, they had to pull me away from this beauty.<br />
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Yes, You're seeing the JAGUAR XKRS GT.<br />
Here she is up close.<br />
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Don't get your hopes up. There will only be 25 of them released in the USA. You will probably never see one in person, and definitely not be allowed to lean all over the spoiler.<br />
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Thank you JAGUAR ALIVE. I had a wonderful day on the track, enjoyed meeting new people, and learning what's new for this brand that in my opinion NEVER went out of style. <br />
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Hey, this has been on my Christmas list since I was two.<br />
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Are you listening Santa?<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-76703404228496420472013-10-31T14:44:00.000-04:002013-11-25T14:45:18.663-05:00October was a whirlwind of activity... maybe a TORNADOAs is the norm, when I write about something, it happens. So, as a I wrote about a tornado in the second book of the Cargo series, I lived one.<br />
A tornado of activity, that is.<br />
There was more writing and editing of course, but also there was the annual girls night out to Netherworld for the eleventh year of craziness, with the most incredible effects we'd seen in years! Thanks ladies, for continuing to meet up.<br />
<br />
And to the new group of girls- who were brave enough to start a new tradition. We found a very, very, fun spook house called Paranoia, and shut down the piano bar afterward, complete with pics by the cop's car ;)<br />
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Yep. Crazy. Fun.<br />
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Oh, yeah, there was a trip to Costa Rico.<br />
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where we saw a volcano,<br />
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sat in hot springs- in the dark- so no pictures. Which might be a good thing.<br />
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We ziplined for thousands of meters, past waterfalls and over toucans<br />
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We hiked and scouted for birds and sloths..<br />
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<br />
but found a PUMA instead. I am not talking sneakers, here.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"> We stayed on a working farm.</span></div>
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I think the lizards were the hardest working lizards I have ever met.<br />
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The rain forest was magical... and after the rainiest summer in Georgia, of course, the logical escape trip was to... a rain forest.<br />
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Turn your head sideways and agree.<br />
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Yep. I liked my October.<br />
How was yours?<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-46047462900383287322013-10-10T09:00:00.000-04:002013-10-10T09:00:00.100-04:00What scares you?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's that time of the year.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Candy, costumes, bones in the yard, screaming. And beer. Always, there is the beer.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Some folks freak out about bugs, or snakes. Others are scared of heights or speed, or highway traffic. Lots of folks admit dark cobwebbed places are not exactly sexy, and there are the select few who are totally creeped out by Amish women in buggies on foggy nights. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Whatever your fright, this is the month to find it. Real or imagined. Download a movie, check out the marathon of horror films on TV, or go find your own ghosts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of course, for me, there will be girls nights out to a
haunted house. Maybe two. If you've been following along, you'll remember our
regular Halloween date is to</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.fearworld.com/"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">this place</span></a>— Netherworld.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">( Since 2002- or was it 2001?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There was always a story to go along with
the ghouls and the story they told inside the buildings with their special
effects and costumed actors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> But we had our own. The mom who refused to
pee in the porta-potty, squatting instead behind the 18wheeler in the parking
lot. The pre-gaming at the local Mexican joint, stashing a tequila to go, for
that final courage shot. Finding a place close to Netherworld for meeting up
and having drinks with the girls to chicken to do the houses... one night we
drank and danced for so long we almost missed the last run through. ( very
tired bloody chainsaw chasers that time.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We eventually stumbled on a restaurant that fit
the bill perfectly- offering all the tequila, food and entertainment we could
ask for - one time, cute boys buying flowers, another year- Mariachi band! (
shots for everyone!) And the next year, gold toothed drug dealers! One
October we looked for the place, but the whole building had disappeared... best
not to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> You can read about other Netherworld
nights</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/2007/10/netherworld-nevermind-weekends.html"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">here</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">and</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/2008/10/clarencecarterclarencecarterclarencecar.html"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">here</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">and</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://linda-sands.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-odd-year-beginning-to-see.html"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">here</span></a> if you dare. And the
adventures we had afterward- wearing fangs to get bartenders to unlock the
door, playing pool for free, purple panty strings dangling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This year I proposed trying a new place.
An adults only place with a bar- and ghouls. A wooded area that lets you
shoot zombies with air soft pellets. A multi-roomed chamber of horrors....
someone's unfinished basement with a leaky foundation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We'll see what happens, as I've moved farther
from my tribe, and have yet to create a new group of lovelies. What's your
commitment to fright? Hmmm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Know this, there will be spookiness. Not only in
the haunted house, but in the front yard, and possibly in the skinny jeans
department.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-11898588903030557932013-10-08T09:56:00.000-04:002013-10-08T09:56:54.173-04:00October. That pink month of football.<br />
A whole month of men in pink? From football stadium to football stadium? This is what I have to say.<br />
ENOUGH.<br />
<br />
We get it. You want us to think you care about women, are socially aware and are behind the movement to find a cure for breast cancer, to provide medical care, and the resources needed, to encourage early diagnosis... blah blah blah.<br />
According to the article by Amanda Hess that ran in Slate four days ago,<br />
<br />
"A Crucial Catch’s annual effort includes stenciling football
fields with breast cancer ribbons, recruiting star athletes to don baby pink in
commercials supporting the effort, and selling fans on <a href="http://www.nflshop.com/Breast_Cancer_Awareness_Gear/pg/1/ps/96/so/top_sellers/source/bm-nflcom-Pink-BCA">rose-tinted
team-branded gear</a>. Some of the proceeds of those sales are donated to the
American Cancer Society, but “the league declines to say” the percentage it’s
actually forking over—and either way, the apparel conveniently promotes the
Giants and the Cowboys (and specifically encourages female investment in those
brands) alongside women’s health. One particularly grim stat: Ticketmaster
capped its 2012 A Crucial Catch donation at $40,000. That’s <a href="http://www.ajmc.com/publications/evidence-based-oncology/2012/2012-2-vol18-n5/breast-cancer-will-treatment-costs-outpace-effectiveness/1">just
$1</a> for every woman who died of breast cancer in 2012; one study found
that patients with metastatic breast cancer cost the U.S. a combined
$12.2 billion annually in direct and indirect costs.<br />
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Read that again, <b>The league decline to say the percentage it's actually forking over.</b>... really??<br />
Truth is- YOU ARE HOGGING THE MONTH, stealing limelight for other charities, lining pockets that, hell, are mink fur and gold lined already.<br />
And more than that. The pink is annoying, and bothersome. How many plays were missed when we thought that flag was someone's dropped towel?<br />
My thought is this. Pink does not equal a breast. What about pale hairy men with breast cancer? African American women? Don't make me list all the different kinds, colors, shapes of tits out there. Please, please, email me one if it is hot pink.<br />
I know, I know. I read all about the ribbon, the color choice, the background (<a href="http://thinkbeforeyoupink.org/?page_id=26" target="_blank">(you can read it here)</a> but what about the other choices how the fashion industry wanted to make a bull's-eye, how someone else suggested the upside down purple ribbon with the tear shape? You want men to promote and back breast cancer awareness? Maybe we need to have a beautiful healthy breast be the symbol. Hats shaped like boobs. Make your own shirt. Wear your bra on the outside of your blouse. Have men see what a mammogram looks like, how it feels. Send around self- check cards, posters, post the HOW TO in a humorous way. These shirts are better than the ribbons.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4pXeKo0ssWpv1yEdiW3IGdgJLeZo0syNhRL6dO1UGFZ0j_HZGo-wE-TtNvfmYmtCc64zx33g9Lu9U4_Qiz2402aD6ZSZRRoDwWDpnmBPF59hkmPd0CG29y72qSNJj81olskUyE5NP7E/s1600/Boobies!-(Womens).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi4pXeKo0ssWpv1yEdiW3IGdgJLeZo0syNhRL6dO1UGFZ0j_HZGo-wE-TtNvfmYmtCc64zx33g9Lu9U4_Qiz2402aD6ZSZRRoDwWDpnmBPF59hkmPd0CG29y72qSNJj81olskUyE5NP7E/s1600/Boobies!-(Womens).jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJ7dHWTK-ZNBAwK55CjbkNjl1AlMelHKhpWEQEEGiSpyhxfna5d1TrXOBpPOme9Dja8lqbE0yeeDL0OggJoIRKfEoEB0ZlZHuheByvGVbnkMmdeXkDrgD1mYOGRC4I8OGTpKmuEgWemU/s1600/Fuck-Cancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJ7dHWTK-ZNBAwK55CjbkNjl1AlMelHKhpWEQEEGiSpyhxfna5d1TrXOBpPOme9Dja8lqbE0yeeDL0OggJoIRKfEoEB0ZlZHuheByvGVbnkMmdeXkDrgD1mYOGRC4I8OGTpKmuEgWemU/s1600/Fuck-Cancer.jpg" /></a></div>
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Come on. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
More than early diagnosis, is the need to educate women on prevention. Healthy eating, exercise and maintaining a low BMI, plus reducing the daily intake of alcohol all play a part in reducing the risk of breast cancer. Europeans have been promoting this type of frontal attack on the disease for years. ( They have a single day of BREAST AWARENESS.)</div>
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I learned more about breast cancer prevention and statistics in a European 3 minute video than I gathered from 16 convoluted pages of American medical literature, where blame was placed on genetics, cigarettes, hormone therapy, radiation in the work place, birth control pills, oh yeah, and some non-conclusive dietary and physical activity habits.</div>
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Give back the pink. 1980 is calling.</div>
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Step up to reality. We want to be taught, not accessorized. </div>
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I'd listen more if one football player told one story each Sunday about his experience with breast cancer.</div>
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Especially if he was wearing these.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-25438333331117794522013-09-11T17:48:00.000-04:002013-09-11T17:48:31.673-04:00The Falling Man. Would you have jumped from the towers?On this anniversary of 9-11, a date on which there is both MY WEDDING ANNIVERSARY (1992) and a horrible disaster that everyone in the world lays claim to, I have to ask...<br />
Would you have jumped?<br />
<br />
Stories tell of people falling from the towers on that morning, being forced out by winds.. by others?<br />
But of the documented 200 people who died by falling or jumping from the towers on that morning 12 years ago, how many thought they would survive?<br />
Surely the people who fashioned makeshift parachutes had an idea that it might work, right? I've read of people using tablecloths, curtains, clothing...<br />
This video, believe it or not, shows a pretty good facsimile.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/MFcROS1vZEs?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
In this video, you can see some attempts to slow the fall, maybe even to slide down the side of the building to another floor, where a broken window.. something.. could save them. But mostly, you see people choosing to jump to their death, than be burned to death.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/JzKI9TBR-XQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Which makes me wonder, why didn't anyone try to break windows on the lower floors? Could someone have escaped from higher floors that way? Would that air simply have fueled the fires? Why was nothing set up to catch the jumpers? Nothing from the air, helicopter assists? Would you have listened to the report that the building was safe, and to return to your office? What would you have done? Was there even time to do or think of any of this? Was 102 minutes enough time?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/september-11-attacks/9530013/911-survivor-tells-how-he-surfed-15-floors-down-the-collapsing-tower.html" target="_blank">This guy,</a> Pasquale Buzzelli, survived by "surfing down" 15 floors- inside- the North Tower.<br />
Amazing story.<br />
<br />
In this article by Tom Leonard on 9-11-2011, there are specific details about the jumpers. <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2035806/9-11-victims-fell-Twin-Towers-appeared-blinded-smoke.html" target="_blank">( read in full here)</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">"<span style="background-color: white;">As</span><span style="background-color: white;"> part of its research into where the fire was at its most intense, NIST analysed camera footage and still photographs, and counted 104 jumpers, often recording the floor and exact window from which they left.</span></span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">All but three leapt from the first building to be hit — the North Tower. The second plane struck the South Tower 16 minutes later but it collapsed first, giving occupants less time to react.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">The first jumper is recorded plunging from the North Tower’s 149th window of the 93rd floor on the north face of the building at 8.51am, just over four minutes after it was hit by the first hijacked Boeing 757 between the 93rd and 99th floors.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Sometimes the fallers were separated by an interval of just a second. At one point nine people fell in six seconds from five adjacent windows; at another, 13 people fell in two minutes. Twenty minutes after the building was struck, two people fell simultaneously from the same window on the 95th floor.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">At least four jumpers tried to climb to other windows for safety then lost their grip. One person climbed from the 93rd floor to the 92nd, clinging to the window’s edge before falling just one second after someone else plumetted from the same window — number 215 on the east face of the tower.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">The early jumpers came from the crash zone where the plane entered the building — the offices of the insurance brokers Marsh & McLennan.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; min-height: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">The last jumper fell just as the North Tower collapsed 102 minutes after the building had been hit. Photographer Richard Drew says he has a picture of this person clinging to some debris while falling."</span></div>
Maybe you need to read this article <a href="http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ0903-SEP_FALLINGMAN" target="_blank">by Tom Junod in Esquire</a>.<br />
And stare long and hard at this, before you can decide.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.esquire.com/cm/esquire/images/9G/fallingman-lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://www.esquire.com/cm/esquire/images/9G/fallingman-lg.jpg" width="490" /></a></div>
<br />
Would you jump? Would you be committing suicide? Would you be a coward or a hero? Would you change your mind mid-fall?<br />
<br />
I pray you never have to make these choices.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.333333015441895px;"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-21432676498670401702013-08-14T17:15:00.002-04:002013-08-14T17:15:52.478-04:00Stupid and GREAT things I saw this week.Yes, it's been a while since I posted on this blog.<br />
<br />
There have been updates on <a href="https://twitter.com/lindasands" target="_blank">Twitter </a>and sometimes on FaceBook-<a href="https://www.facebook.com/sands.linda" target="_blank">choose</a> any of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LindaSandsAuthor?ref=hl" target="_blank">assorted </a>p<a href="https://www.facebook.com/writebythewater?ref=hl" target="_blank">ages</a>, but mostly I have been busy enjoying my family travel, summer and the new place.<br />
And then, there's that thing with my writing. Thanks for asking.<br />
After months of hard work and vodka, the shortened and revamped <b>Three Women Walk into a Bar</b> was sent up to the the agent now for a read through, and I'm days away from completing the latest revisions on <b>Grand Theft Cargo</b>, so this can make the rounds in a whole new world of publishing.<br />
( If you've been living under a rock, let me direct you to a few reading spots to catch up.<br />
Go on, I'll wait.<br />
<br />
1. <a href="http://www.npr.org/2013/02/05/171164095/why-traditional-publishing-is-really-in-a-golden-age?ft=1&f=1008" target="_blank">Golden Age, </a>Shmolden Age.<br />
2. What's a Hybrid Author? <a href="http://nelsonagency.com/new-buzz-word-the-hybrid/" target="_blank">Does she still run on gas?</a><br />
3. Holding tight to <a href="http://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/industry-news/manufacturing/article/58608-print-output-rose-in-2012.html" target="_blank">that 1% rise.</a><br />
4. <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/10/judge-says-apple-conspire_n_3572699.html" target="_blank">That thing</a> with e-books, Apples and Amazonian Princesses.<br />
<br />
<br />
You're back, Great. Hope your head is still on straight.<br />
<br />
Right then, back to the business at hand.<br />
<span style="color: red;">STUPID THINGS I SAW THIS WEEK.</span><br />
<br />
A flyer for a sandwich shop that delivers to my door.<br />
Item: P&J ( peanut butter and jelly sandwich) cost $3.99<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><i>Let me be clear. No matter what my kids tell you, I do know how to spread peanut butter on bread. And it won't cost anywhere near $4.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><i> </i></span><br />
A man stealing puppies. By putting them in his pants.<br />
<object allowfullscreen="true" allownetworking="all" allowscriptaccess="always" data="http://www.kaltura.com/index.php/kwidget/wid/1_ylv0teb8/uiconf_id/12411312" height="345" id="kaltura_player_1376513752" name="kaltura_player_1376513752" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><param name="allowNetworking" value="all" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.kaltura.com/index.php/kwidget/wid/1_ylv0teb8/uiconf_id/12411312"/><param name="flashVars" value=""/><a href="http://corp.kaltura.com">video platform</a><a href="http://corp.kaltura.com/video_platform/video_management">video management</a><a href="http://corp.kaltura.com/solutions/video_solution">video solutions</a><a href="http://corp.kaltura.com/video_platform/video_publishing">video player</a></object>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><i>I can only hope they are still teething.</i></span>
<span style="color: blue;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: red;">GREAT THINGS I SAW THIS WEEK</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
This cool house decor item. And future DIY Project.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiZj_oQtHWKXDCv4k7B-Oycm2dAs2wcYnRzC1T5qs6Rlz0aginqLZWUNHONaaA6N8KF7H2E52N0e4zT8O12tkEXgLPu82XNI8OEUCGRAFOqoRXwz99UEkeA1i95cZT4d762CsE-D-jc0/s1600/IMG_2197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPiZj_oQtHWKXDCv4k7B-Oycm2dAs2wcYnRzC1T5qs6Rlz0aginqLZWUNHONaaA6N8KF7H2E52N0e4zT8O12tkEXgLPu82XNI8OEUCGRAFOqoRXwz99UEkeA1i95cZT4d762CsE-D-jc0/s320/IMG_2197.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
This fab beer. Both for giving to that special man... and for imbibing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdMDYXOoh1rOR-ugfUZofQkU6bFUFB2urJG0OduVrQadUaGQ2YeQiNRp74DrxNTLhFAy4pegQNBPz1CqSD3PQ1R1eeH4cR0la-FQnh4kh6IBj761O8WhvCWJbOwwMbbOUBbYT7ncGos0/s1600/IMG_2130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdMDYXOoh1rOR-ugfUZofQkU6bFUFB2urJG0OduVrQadUaGQ2YeQiNRp74DrxNTLhFAy4pegQNBPz1CqSD3PQ1R1eeH4cR0la-FQnh4kh6IBj761O8WhvCWJbOwwMbbOUBbYT7ncGos0/s320/IMG_2130.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
And these skittish little softies. ALPACAS!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM_ZEbUSZtrFH83YM50KClhFfuapPCdfkqR3MeLIK2Sqdk7Sd1HWjmBUhVlp4pak1qVGvEfMcy-Yi8i_30F75O0m31FToUVq_JNDCsPyAKYTgfvz_On1svcgDexDygqPRgT2nnc5bCww/s1600/IMG_2183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM_ZEbUSZtrFH83YM50KClhFfuapPCdfkqR3MeLIK2Sqdk7Sd1HWjmBUhVlp4pak1qVGvEfMcy-Yi8i_30F75O0m31FToUVq_JNDCsPyAKYTgfvz_On1svcgDexDygqPRgT2nnc5bCww/s320/IMG_2183.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span><span style="color: red;">Yep. As always, more good than stupid around here. It's what you choose to focus on.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"> On that note.</span><br />
I have missed you. I promise to not stay away so long in the future. I'm also looking for some new blogs to follow over here, that are not as book/ reader/ author/ writing oriented as the blogs I follow on <a href="http://linda-sands.com/" target="_blank">my website</a>. All ideas welcome.<br />
<br />
See you soon.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-32263461174530787802013-06-24T13:34:00.001-04:002013-06-24T13:34:47.395-04:00In a crazy world, we love our crazies.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/DVsZp5Q177g?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
Yes, they are not really crazy. Crazy talented maybe. More than likely, mislabeled. Because that's what we do, right? We don't understand some one, we call them crazy. That's one way to end the discussion, and lately there appears to be enough crazy going around for all of us.<br />
<br />
You've got your crazy "spy" character.<br />
<a href="http://www.thestar.com/news/world/2013/06/23/us_spy_whistleblower_edward_snowden_leaves_hong_kong.html" target="_blank">Today's update. </a><br />
<br />
And your even crazier Southern cook <a href="http://www.tmz.com/2013/06/22/paula-deen-interview-black-friends-racism-slavery-food-network/" target="_blank">with her friend.</a> Trying to make apologies for being herself... not the persona she created.<br />
Hello??<br />
<br />
And yet, it's the crazy people who change the world... and make it a much more fun place to live, right?<br />
So get out there, take some risks, challenge yourself and go... a little crazy.<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/31/amanda-bynes-crazy-behavior-concern_n_3366196.html" target="_blank">Not celebrity crazy though</a>, ok?<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-ANZtCeuD8k7HMDlilsixhhYrYnKzikuOd7xTLnW09-4lJkJgbhukGKpLHWXW5JpCmS1JUbJon-XJWK-IZAGbcr8ItC5oMGBzB4D2LfbliPOB2h5tOgO0QHWxcHfo5Ciyo1J35H9-jg/s1600/Lets_Go_Crazy_Title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-ANZtCeuD8k7HMDlilsixhhYrYnKzikuOd7xTLnW09-4lJkJgbhukGKpLHWXW5JpCmS1JUbJon-XJWK-IZAGbcr8ItC5oMGBzB4D2LfbliPOB2h5tOgO0QHWxcHfo5Ciyo1J35H9-jg/s320/Lets_Go_Crazy_Title.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-22500105788603199832013-05-30T10:44:00.000-04:002013-05-30T10:44:50.893-04:00Why You'll Never Make The BFFL List<div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>check this list. can you admit to more than three of them?</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>*statements compiled from watching too much TV and eavesdropping on conversations at the gym </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You think you dress cute</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are a blamer, not a claimer</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don't belong to a gym</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You belong to a
gym, but never go</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You pretend to be a Christian because you think it makes you
appear kinder</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You drive slow. Everywhere.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are over thirty years old and have never been to Europe</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You made a conscious choice: cats over dogs</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You hang around people who are going nowhere in their lives
and you respect them</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have never removed the wallpaper in your house</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>You have no idea what Bikram yoga is</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have never moved just to get a better place</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have regrets</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your best friend is your mother</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You love cruises</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You find it easier to cut down than compliment</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don't like to dance</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don't carry water with you, ever</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You look in every shiny surface you pass</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You return to the same vacation place over and over and over</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You think Las Vegas is the best thing ever, besides
Disneyland</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dieting is something you do a few times a year. Every year.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have more free flight miles saved up than you could ever
use</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You think a martini has more than two ingredients</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every room in your house has a theme</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You like the sound of your laugh</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You're afraid if you lift weights you'll get too muscular</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your idea of success is a large savings account</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have a list of places you'd like to see but have not
booked one vacation this year</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I taped your day, you'd never once say these words:
please, love, proud, asshole, yes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have never shopped online</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your house smells weird to everyone but you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your family has an outcast, and it's not you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You believe in the power of prayer but not positive thinking</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don't read books</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You drive a minivan</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have never been to Canada or Mexico</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You think Canada and Mexico are exotic places</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your negativity is your greatest asset</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You eat everything and never gain weight</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You never had to study in college</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You actually have the job you went to school for</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You still get the newspaper delivered daily</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clutter is your constant companion</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have a fear of something that will never happen to you- ie: spontaneous combustion</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You do not believe in spirits</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-86309942799164943422013-05-25T10:10:00.000-04:002013-05-25T10:12:12.758-04:00When your kid wants THIS for their birthday, do you buy it? I'll just show you the video and you can tell me...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hpxb7Ij7kcQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-57066833339408195022013-05-15T09:14:00.000-04:002013-05-15T09:14:04.379-04:00And the days, they pass on by, remembered or forgottenI may finally be back on track. Sure it took me five months, but, heck, I accomplished a great deal in that time.<br />
And the lessons I learned? The people I met? The stories I heard? Well, there will be a book to deal with all that. Promise.<br />
<br />
Speaking of books. I am on the last tweaking phase on the manuscript that received high praise in NY. Self-imposed deadline means this thing will be out of my hair shortly, and allow me to free up the space for some new projects, like short stories, essays, blogging opportunities and travel writing. Not to mention finishing book two in the Cargo series- something I set aside during rewrites.<br />
<br />
I don't have a robot to keep my addled mind focused, like Frank, but I do have a nice big calendar thingy and colored markers and post it notes. that will work, right?<br />
<br />
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<br />
On the other hand, maybe I do need a robot.<br />
<br />
though, with my luck, I'd end up with an EMO one like this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/dcqmVws4nr4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Guess I'll just have to get on with own bad self. <br />
Stay tuned at this blog for more adventures of ANOTHER GOOD THING, and check out the writing and publishing blog over here: at<a href="http://linda-sands.com/blog%20-" target="_blank"> linda-sands.com</a><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-57023105383660287862013-02-28T08:57:00.001-05:002013-02-28T08:57:50.498-05:00Moving Realities.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://paneerandpulao.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/moving-van.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://paneerandpulao.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/moving-van.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When you were a kid and your family moved, you sat on the curb ate popsicles and watched the movers load the van and drive away. You didn't do anything until you arrived at the new house, and were assigned your room. Were you promptly sat down and ate popsicles until your Mom found you.<br />
<br />
When you were a college student and moved for college, you went to a tiny dorm room with a bunch of new stuff your parents bought you, or you found your own digs and had a hodge podge of handmedown furniture and left behind stuff. In either case, it wasn't much and the packing, loading and reverse was pretty much on you, and maybe a sad girlfriend or boyfriend you were leaving behind.<br />
<br />
As a young family, your starter home still had remnants of the college life, and if you were lucky, even better handmedown stuff. And because you were saving for the new baby, you did as much of the packing and moving yourself as you could, and bitched about every cent the company charged you.<br />
<br />
By the next move, you've met people with trucks and muscles. Friends who will work for pizza and beer. This is the best move ever, even if it takes the longest, is the most confusing and things get broken. Still, there was beer.<br />
<br />
Later, as life in the corporate world kicked in and the family enlarged, you took advantage of the executive moving service. This time, you sat on the curb and ate popsicles- "martinis"- while the movers packed and loaded and drove away. You didn't even see the $10,000 bill until months later when you were happily ensconced in the new place.<br />
<br />
A few moves later, and a shift in corporate spending, you continue to change homes. You have moved yourself, moved friends, put a life in storage and donated a whole old frightening past to strangers.<br />
<br />
And this time, you choose to move, when you don't have to— a strange concept to be sure. You wish for those twenty something year old friends with strong backs and empty stomachs, and part of you almost digs into the coffers for the expensive moving company- with insurance, and three large men. You weigh the cost of the service with the cost of massages, chiropractic treatment, and replacing Grandma's antique cake plate.<br />
<br />
But in the end, you tell yourself. I can do this. I'll just go one box at a time.<br />
<br />
And then I'll have a popsicle.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-60862974289592081302013-02-08T10:58:00.000-05:002013-02-08T10:58:21.738-05:00How to sell your house. In 4 days.Write a letter like this and leave it on your counter.<br />
<br />
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">To the potential owners of XXXX,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We found this house probably much the
same way you did, scrolling through hundreds of web pages, sipping wine and
dreaming. Our kids were young, three and seven. We wanted a safe, family-oriented
neighborhood with a pool and playground and good schools nearby. We hoped for a
flat, fenced yard and beautiful big trees on a cul-de-sac, a house that we
would make a home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> That was eleven years ago. Our son is now in college and our
daughter's a freshman in high school. They were born on different coasts, but
this is the house they'll speak of when asked about their childhood. This is
the place where Christmas magic happened, where baby birds fell from trees and
were handfed until they could fly, where puppies grew into dogs, where slumber
parties and birthday celebrations and over ten years of mystery parties were
forged into lifelong memories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This house has a distinct soul. You'll
feel it on quiet mornings sitting on the patio with a cup of coffee, on cool evenings
burning twigs in the fire pit as owls hoot, cooking and baking in the kitchen,
scents drifting into the dining room where guests wait, lounging in the family
room on movie night, or hosting outdoor barbeques on game day—even in those
times when the pace slows and the bubbling aquarium tells you to relax.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> We have been very blessed in this house. It has, what some
call "good juju." We welcomed that and tried to add special touches
along the way, upgrading features whenever possible, yet always honoring the
bones of the home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is a special community. We've
made many wonderful friends here and enjoyed pool parties, bunko night, book
club, and swim team. We've even kept in touch with neighbors who moved away. It's
that kind of place. You'll meet people who grew up here twenty years ago and have
returned with families of their own to call XXX home again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I know we'll miss living in the yellow
house on the hill. And we really hope she finds someone who will love her and
care for her as we did. Maybe that's you.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">*** also called, how to make your family cry***</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2647146178191641272.post-17228522575299955512013-01-30T09:36:00.001-05:002013-01-30T09:36:08.379-05:00This post is brought to you by the letter F.<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>F is for FIFTY. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b> Fifty years old.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's coming and I feel it. But also, F is for Fabulous. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOKwPH4wtOp686xHPAbGEE01g5PAmn8DvwT_e8vW7g2VRI7imCx51iilYh9_Mt7IYeXMUThS-L3-H77e5nvm8bdHiKLL55qlnfudoz6TsXTv5dfW87lYZBJwdz6DenGux9s3s1Ep-N0c/s1600/50+m.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOKwPH4wtOp686xHPAbGEE01g5PAmn8DvwT_e8vW7g2VRI7imCx51iilYh9_Mt7IYeXMUThS-L3-H77e5nvm8bdHiKLL55qlnfudoz6TsXTv5dfW87lYZBJwdz6DenGux9s3s1Ep-N0c/s1600/50+m.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JzpySkWDsr55a2utBQMWd6EWic7WVCgQeaiRaRFoioIt33eUD8T-RtvlnHFyqzwFxHeDuqpbpRwvwrUkYOcY7gDv_3E9_G6xCCvSZDfVsm_0CEVBGhqzWtkgz1C5OgjMNJSxeMOPoQw/s1600/50.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JzpySkWDsr55a2utBQMWd6EWic7WVCgQeaiRaRFoioIt33eUD8T-RtvlnHFyqzwFxHeDuqpbpRwvwrUkYOcY7gDv_3E9_G6xCCvSZDfVsm_0CEVBGhqzWtkgz1C5OgjMNJSxeMOPoQw/s1600/50.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11376100534890229940noreply@blogger.com1