I've been really struggling with feeling depressed, of all things. My problem is that I wanted everything to be perfect when Elder Danny reappeared. And it's not. And it won't be. I had this goal--this end-point--when the house would be perfectly organized and decorated, all the boxes in the garage emptied and put away, and I would be thirty pounds skinnier instead of ten pounds heavier than when he left. The dog-chewed blinds would be replaced, trees would be planted, and the carpet would be cleaned. Like he's excited to come home so that he can see the house, right?! Silly me. I'm revising my goals by the day, and pretty soon I think my list is going to read "clean the bathrooms!"
We loved our Sunday phone call. I didn't even try to keep the conversation away from "TWO WEEKS!" Yes, it made him trunky, but he's just going to have to deal with that. He asked if we could have chicken enchiladas and chocolate ice cream when he gets home. I think I can arrange that. He also sounded really surprised that everyone is coming from out-of-town to see him. Like he doesn't know he's a celebrity around here!!!!
SIXTEEN DAYS--wahoo! (Does that mean that I can pick sixteen projects and do one a day and . . . oh wait, there's a couple of Sundays in there, and then there's my daughter's high school graduation, and the two projects she wants me to help her finish so she can get her Young Woman Recognition award, and Andrew's baseball games and everyone else arriving before Danny--which takes my target date to twelve days, and . . . Give it up, Liz. It's not going to happen. Stick with cleaning the bathrooms. It's more realistic.)
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Totally and Unabashedly Addicted
And I never watch TV. It's true. Ask those who know me best. In fact, that box in the living room is the only thing I have ever had violent fantasies about, fantasies which involve baseball bats and pruning sheers--not in the same fantasy, by the way.
But here I am, watching American Idol every week. Totally addicted. And if that's not enough, I've found that the night just isn't complete without at least one episode of 24. Of course, that's on a DVD, so does it still count? Probably, since it had its beginnings on TV.
But the upside is that AI is somewhat self-limiting and I get to see my married kids more (since I offer a free meal for anyone who will participate with me). As for 24--let's just put it this way. The show puts my life in perspective. Anything that goes wrong, I can always say, "It could be worse. I could be Jack." "Had a bad day? Try Jack's."
So that's not all bad, is it?
But here I am, watching American Idol every week. Totally addicted. And if that's not enough, I've found that the night just isn't complete without at least one episode of 24. Of course, that's on a DVD, so does it still count? Probably, since it had its beginnings on TV.
But the upside is that AI is somewhat self-limiting and I get to see my married kids more (since I offer a free meal for anyone who will participate with me). As for 24--let's just put it this way. The show puts my life in perspective. Anything that goes wrong, I can always say, "It could be worse. I could be Jack." "Had a bad day? Try Jack's."
So that's not all bad, is it?
Friday, April 25, 2008
Why Salesmen Get Doors Slammed in Their Faces (by a normally nice lady)
Top Eleven Things I Wish They'd Teach Salesmen:
11. Don't ask to come in my house. If you absolutely must come in my house, make sure you have someone with you. Preferably a woman. And show me your ID. You may be a nice guy, but I don't know that.
10. Be scrupulously honest in what you tell me. If you tell me your demonstration will take ten minutes, it'd better be ten minutes. I'll be watching the clock. If you say you'll clean my carpet, then clean it. (If there's a contingency clause--like "if you buy the vacuum") say so. Before I move the furniture.)
9. I don't care what my neighbors bought. Keeping up with the Jones' really doesn't apply when it comes to cleaning products and magazine subscriptions.
8. Don't ask me about my neighbors. I'm not going to tell you their names and occupations, or if they have small children. I know what you're doing, and I don't want you to manipulate my friends.
7. Cut the small talk. We both know that you don't care about my life, so don't waste my time asking me about my hobbies. Let's cut to the chase and let me get back to what I was doing before you rang my doorbell.
6. Don't try to be funny. If you were truly funny, you'd be making a living in stand-up comedy, instead of selling vacuums. So skip the whole "you can sweep me off the porch with a broom" routine.
5. Don't tell me this offer is only good for the next ten minutes. Leave me a brochure with a phone number and let me think about it--I might even call you back!
4. No means no. Don't force me to be rude. Remember Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice? When I say no, I'm not being coy. I just don't want it. So please ignore the "rule of thumb" that says you have to hear no three times before you take it seriously.
3. When I do say no, don't be rude. Let's make a deal: I'll say no pleasantly, and you accept it graciously.
2. Don't try to make me feel guilty. I don't care if you grew up on the south side of Chicago and have an anger management problem you're trying to overcome. I don't care if you're earning a trip to Disneyland and I'm the last sale you need. I had seven kids of my own to keep off the streets, out of trouble, and get into college--don't try to make me feel responsible for you too!
1. Have a product worth selling. That's what sales is all about--the PRODUCT! Not you. Not your background. Not your hopes and dreams. Save that for people who care. Just tell me what you're selling. Tell me what it costs and ask me if I want it. It'll save us both some time.
Quote of the day: "Your neighbor said she needed another magazine like she needed a hole in the head, but she still bought one to help me out."
My apologies to good salesmen out there (Tom). I'm sorry so many who went before you have given sales a bad name. Here's my suggested door approach: "Hi, I'm _________ and I'm selling ____________. Are you interested in learning more about this product? Thanks for your time and have a good day."
11. Don't ask to come in my house. If you absolutely must come in my house, make sure you have someone with you. Preferably a woman. And show me your ID. You may be a nice guy, but I don't know that.
10. Be scrupulously honest in what you tell me. If you tell me your demonstration will take ten minutes, it'd better be ten minutes. I'll be watching the clock. If you say you'll clean my carpet, then clean it. (If there's a contingency clause--like "if you buy the vacuum") say so. Before I move the furniture.)
9. I don't care what my neighbors bought. Keeping up with the Jones' really doesn't apply when it comes to cleaning products and magazine subscriptions.
8. Don't ask me about my neighbors. I'm not going to tell you their names and occupations, or if they have small children. I know what you're doing, and I don't want you to manipulate my friends.
7. Cut the small talk. We both know that you don't care about my life, so don't waste my time asking me about my hobbies. Let's cut to the chase and let me get back to what I was doing before you rang my doorbell.
6. Don't try to be funny. If you were truly funny, you'd be making a living in stand-up comedy, instead of selling vacuums. So skip the whole "you can sweep me off the porch with a broom" routine.
5. Don't tell me this offer is only good for the next ten minutes. Leave me a brochure with a phone number and let me think about it--I might even call you back!
4. No means no. Don't force me to be rude. Remember Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice? When I say no, I'm not being coy. I just don't want it. So please ignore the "rule of thumb" that says you have to hear no three times before you take it seriously.
3. When I do say no, don't be rude. Let's make a deal: I'll say no pleasantly, and you accept it graciously.
2. Don't try to make me feel guilty. I don't care if you grew up on the south side of Chicago and have an anger management problem you're trying to overcome. I don't care if you're earning a trip to Disneyland and I'm the last sale you need. I had seven kids of my own to keep off the streets, out of trouble, and get into college--don't try to make me feel responsible for you too!
1. Have a product worth selling. That's what sales is all about--the PRODUCT! Not you. Not your background. Not your hopes and dreams. Save that for people who care. Just tell me what you're selling. Tell me what it costs and ask me if I want it. It'll save us both some time.
Quote of the day: "Your neighbor said she needed another magazine like she needed a hole in the head, but she still bought one to help me out."
My apologies to good salesmen out there (Tom). I'm sorry so many who went before you have given sales a bad name. Here's my suggested door approach: "Hi, I'm _________ and I'm selling ____________. Are you interested in learning more about this product? Thanks for your time and have a good day."
Monday, April 14, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Birthdays and other stuff
Andrew & Elena
Julie--what's it called when you can talk on two phones at the same time?
Grandma & Elena
Andrew's birthday party
Julie--what's it called when you can talk on two phones at the same time? 
Grandma & Elena
Andrew's birthday partyAmerican Idol Recap
The results are in, and it looks like everyone but me will be bringing treats for our next AI party, next Tuesday at 7:00! Yes, it's true, I was the only one who picked two of the bottom three.
For anyone who's interested, we've started having AI parties, to watch the show and do our own bit of voting. Each of us picks who we think the bottom three will be, and who will go home. The next night we add up the score: 5 points if you pick the winner (or in this case, the loser) plus one point for everyone you picked in the bottom three. Low score wins the privilege of providing treats next week.
Anyone who wants to join us, just give me a call! The show starts at 7 Tuesday (and dinner before is optional!).
For anyone who's interested, we've started having AI parties, to watch the show and do our own bit of voting. Each of us picks who we think the bottom three will be, and who will go home. The next night we add up the score: 5 points if you pick the winner (or in this case, the loser) plus one point for everyone you picked in the bottom three. Low score wins the privilege of providing treats next week.
Anyone who wants to join us, just give me a call! The show starts at 7 Tuesday (and dinner before is optional!).
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Shocking Statistics Support my Soapbox!
Don't you love the alliteration? Okay, I just had to do that.
So, yesterday we had a training meeting at work, and I found a couple of statistics quite interesting. A little discouraging, but interesting.
One school (granted, this is one school, so it's not a huge cross-section) asked the question--is what we're doing to help kids who are below grade level working? Guess what they found out? For ninety-five percent of them, the answer was no. They went through the records and identified the kids who had had interventions early in elementary school and then tracked them as they progressed through the years. So how many made it out of "the system?" Only five percent.
Another interesting statistic. To maintain grade level in reading, a child needs to read 20 minutes a day. That's him reading, not including any time he's read to. For a child to jump a grade level, he needs to read 45 minutes a day--per level. So, if you have a fourth grader who is reading on a second grade level, it's going to take him reading 90 minutes every day to catch him up! And let's be honest, that's not going to happen. Instead, by the time he's in fourth grade, he has so many self-esteem issues tied up with reading, that he's going to avoid that painful experience like the plague.
So, yesterday we had a training meeting at work, and I found a couple of statistics quite interesting. A little discouraging, but interesting.
One school (granted, this is one school, so it's not a huge cross-section) asked the question--is what we're doing to help kids who are below grade level working? Guess what they found out? For ninety-five percent of them, the answer was no. They went through the records and identified the kids who had had interventions early in elementary school and then tracked them as they progressed through the years. So how many made it out of "the system?" Only five percent.
Another interesting statistic. To maintain grade level in reading, a child needs to read 20 minutes a day. That's him reading, not including any time he's read to. For a child to jump a grade level, he needs to read 45 minutes a day--per level. So, if you have a fourth grader who is reading on a second grade level, it's going to take him reading 90 minutes every day to catch him up! And let's be honest, that's not going to happen. Instead, by the time he's in fourth grade, he has so many self-esteem issues tied up with reading, that he's going to avoid that painful experience like the plague.
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