I still can’t remember the subject of that funny post I had planned before I got side-tracked on the topic of spammers. But I overheard a conversation over the weekend that I’d like to share. It’s about dealing with the remote controls that operate our favorite gizmos.
From my wife's half of the conversation, I learned that my sister-in-law is setting up a special area for her husband to watch TV/DVDs. It’s small, which is good because he can’t figure out how to use remote controls—she’s getting him a TV and DVR with easily workable manual controls. According to her, every time he touches a remote he breaks it and messes up the TV/DVR. As a result, they spend a lot of time (and money) with the Geek Squad. Then the conversation became almost unbelievable.
“You paid the geeky boys $120 for fix your remote?” “What was wrong with it?” “What do you mean you don’t know?” “What did they do to fix it?” “Were the batteries dead?” “You don’t know if your remote takes batteries?” “Next time your remote acts up, try changing the batteries yourself.” “Turn it over.” “If you replace them one at a time you won’t lose the settings.” “You CAN do it!” “Yes you can!!!” ***sigh***
Apparently no one in their house is good with remotes. I would help them, but they live 2.5 hours away. They’re on their own!
Okay, the reason for this post is to share that tidbit about changing the batteries in your remotes. Many remotes lose their settings if you take out both batteries at the same time. But if you replace one first and then the other, it saves the settings—and a lot of aggravation. Who can remember all the special codes needed to work their Gramophone, Victrola, and television set??? ;P
PS – I apologize if this bit of advice is insulting. But everyone has different skill sets and after hearing that conversation I thought it couldn’t hurt to share.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Old Friends
When my wife and I arrived at our 10-year high school reunion, we almost immediately bumped into a girl I'd gone out with a few times (3, maybe 4) back in school. She was there alone. We chatted for a minute and then moved on.
At the end of the night, my wife shared something she'd learned during the evening. My old acquaintance came alone (despite a good-sized ring) because she was in a same-sex relationship and was worried how people would react.
I had mixed feelings. I was glad she found someone, but sorry she didn't feel comfortable with who she is and who she loves. That's got to be a hard way to live. I resolved that when our paths crossed next I would invite her and her partner out to dinner.
About a month later, I received an envelope from the class reunion committee. It contained a little booklet that listed whatever life updates the attendees felt like sharing. The girl had written something. She shared that she had recently married and was adjusting to life with her new husband and step-daughter.
My wife had pranked me!!! It was so out of character, I never suspected a thing. It turns out she'd carried a grudge about those few dates. When I asked her about it, she gave me a little grin, an innocent look, and said, "Oh, did I say that? I don't remember." Why are innocent looks so seldom innocent??? LOL!
Have a great weekend!!!
At the end of the night, my wife shared something she'd learned during the evening. My old acquaintance came alone (despite a good-sized ring) because she was in a same-sex relationship and was worried how people would react.
I had mixed feelings. I was glad she found someone, but sorry she didn't feel comfortable with who she is and who she loves. That's got to be a hard way to live. I resolved that when our paths crossed next I would invite her and her partner out to dinner.
About a month later, I received an envelope from the class reunion committee. It contained a little booklet that listed whatever life updates the attendees felt like sharing. The girl had written something. She shared that she had recently married and was adjusting to life with her new husband and step-daughter.
My wife had pranked me!!! It was so out of character, I never suspected a thing. It turns out she'd carried a grudge about those few dates. When I asked her about it, she gave me a little grin, an innocent look, and said, "Oh, did I say that? I don't remember." Why are innocent looks so seldom innocent??? LOL!
Have a great weekend!!!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Spammers
I had a very, very funny post planned for today, but over the weekend I found myself thinking about spammers and their ineffectiveness. Now I’ve forgotten the subject of that blockbuster post. =) There are different approaches to spamming. If someone is openly and honestly promoting their site, I understand that. I might not like it, but I understand. This post is about two other approaches.
On a regular basis people put phony messages in my CBox (to the left). Most of the time you can see the name/link leads to a commercial site just by rolling the cursor over it. But on a few occasions (in the early stages) I actually clicked on a link or two. How do you think I felt upon arriving at the unexpected website? Was I: 1) Thrilled and eager to spend money? 2) Curious about what the site had for sale? Or 3) Ticked off?
If you guessed anything but #3, we’re very different. I wouldn’t visit that site again if they were giving away free passes to Disneyland. To me, once a site resorts to tricking people into visiting, whatever they sell is garbage (even if it’s genuine LV).
But another type of spamming phony motivated me to write this post. The self-promoting comment variety—the type that is supposed to make you think they read your post and like your blog, but neither is true. Over the weekend I read a very touching post a girl wrote about a friend who had just died. The first two comments to the post read: “Very prolific and appropriate. Not only is it Fashion Friday tomorrow, but my fabulous giveaway ends! Hope you can link up and enter to win! Have a great night sweetie! Kori xoxo” She also listed links to her two blogs—since that was the whole point of her cut and paste comment.
How does ticking off people or making themselves look like idiots help the spammer? Don’t they accomplish the opposite of what they’re trying to do? Does anyone like spam? Why do they keep doing it? Am I asking too many questions???
Any spammers (of the phony variety) out there care to enlighten me as to why you want to be viewed with contempt?
On a regular basis people put phony messages in my CBox (to the left). Most of the time you can see the name/link leads to a commercial site just by rolling the cursor over it. But on a few occasions (in the early stages) I actually clicked on a link or two. How do you think I felt upon arriving at the unexpected website? Was I: 1) Thrilled and eager to spend money? 2) Curious about what the site had for sale? Or 3) Ticked off?
If you guessed anything but #3, we’re very different. I wouldn’t visit that site again if they were giving away free passes to Disneyland. To me, once a site resorts to tricking people into visiting, whatever they sell is garbage (even if it’s genuine LV).
But another type of spamming phony motivated me to write this post. The self-promoting comment variety—the type that is supposed to make you think they read your post and like your blog, but neither is true. Over the weekend I read a very touching post a girl wrote about a friend who had just died. The first two comments to the post read: “Very prolific and appropriate. Not only is it Fashion Friday tomorrow, but my fabulous giveaway ends! Hope you can link up and enter to win! Have a great night sweetie! Kori xoxo” She also listed links to her two blogs—since that was the whole point of her cut and paste comment.
How does ticking off people or making themselves look like idiots help the spammer? Don’t they accomplish the opposite of what they’re trying to do? Does anyone like spam? Why do they keep doing it? Am I asking too many questions???
Any spammers (of the phony variety) out there care to enlighten me as to why you want to be viewed with contempt?
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Happy Father's Day
Dad, Happy Father’s Day! Thanks for the lessons, intended and otherwise. Sometimes I learned best from the “otherwise”. ;P
Since my dad is gone, I took my two older brothers out to dinner Saturday night. My dad taught me a lot, some of it useful, some obscure and some…bizarre. He taught me:
--it’s important to stand up for others and what’s right
--how to tighten a loose wood screw by placing a small, rolled up wad of paper in the hole
--how to walk quietly (especially important when he was sleeping)
--how to swim quietly (in case I ever needed to take out an enemy machine gun nest by swimming across a river and circling behind it—also, see “walk quietly”)
--don’t grab a spark plug wire while a car is running (it could kill you)
--in the woods, rabbits run in half-circles when making their escape
--how to protect yourself from a large, attacking dog
That last one startled my wife when I shared the story. When I was around 12, there was a nasty German Shepard terrorizing the neighborhood. If you faced him, you were fine. But if your back was turned, you were in trouble. Many nights I heard him run up behind me in the dark as I walked home from helping my grandmother close her store. I learned the best way make him back off was to move aggressively towards him and throw rocks. I think I even growled a time or two (to hide my fear). One night my older brother and I waited on our back porch for our mom’s ceramics class (at a neighbor’s house) to end so we could walk her home. He had a baseball bat. My dad asked what we were doing and then proceeded to tell us that using a bat on the dog would be wrong—the dog would be too quick! He shared a better way for us to protect ourselves. His advice was to crouch a little, so the dog would go for our throats (I kid you not). Then when the dog jumped at you, you were supposed to jam your forearm deeply into his mouth (so he couldn’t get a good bite); bring your other arm up behind his neck, and then **snap**.
We got our mom home safely that night—and thankfully I have no idea if my dad’s advice would work or not. He lost me at, “get him to go for your throat.” LOL! Maybe I'm a bad father, but when I imagined myself passing on that advice to my kids, I just laughed and laughed. I haven't made them eat liver either. ;P
Now there were many, many, many other things (mostly good) that I learned from my dad and I’m almost positive that was a strangest. But only almost positive. What’s the weirdest thing you learned from a parent???
Since my dad is gone, I took my two older brothers out to dinner Saturday night. My dad taught me a lot, some of it useful, some obscure and some…bizarre. He taught me:
--it’s important to stand up for others and what’s right
--how to tighten a loose wood screw by placing a small, rolled up wad of paper in the hole
--how to walk quietly (especially important when he was sleeping)
--how to swim quietly (in case I ever needed to take out an enemy machine gun nest by swimming across a river and circling behind it—also, see “walk quietly”)
--don’t grab a spark plug wire while a car is running (it could kill you)
--in the woods, rabbits run in half-circles when making their escape
--how to protect yourself from a large, attacking dog
That last one startled my wife when I shared the story. When I was around 12, there was a nasty German Shepard terrorizing the neighborhood. If you faced him, you were fine. But if your back was turned, you were in trouble. Many nights I heard him run up behind me in the dark as I walked home from helping my grandmother close her store. I learned the best way make him back off was to move aggressively towards him and throw rocks. I think I even growled a time or two (to hide my fear). One night my older brother and I waited on our back porch for our mom’s ceramics class (at a neighbor’s house) to end so we could walk her home. He had a baseball bat. My dad asked what we were doing and then proceeded to tell us that using a bat on the dog would be wrong—the dog would be too quick! He shared a better way for us to protect ourselves. His advice was to crouch a little, so the dog would go for our throats (I kid you not). Then when the dog jumped at you, you were supposed to jam your forearm deeply into his mouth (so he couldn’t get a good bite); bring your other arm up behind his neck, and then **snap**.
We got our mom home safely that night—and thankfully I have no idea if my dad’s advice would work or not. He lost me at, “get him to go for your throat.” LOL! Maybe I'm a bad father, but when I imagined myself passing on that advice to my kids, I just laughed and laughed. I haven't made them eat liver either. ;P
Now there were many, many, many other things (mostly good) that I learned from my dad and I’m almost positive that was a strangest. But only almost positive. What’s the weirdest thing you learned from a parent???
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Mr. Fluffy (Pt 1)
Once upon a time, my children wanted a cat. I love cats, so I was happy to oblige them. A friend’s cat had kittens and we selected the cutest little fur ball to take home. I’d had lots of cats when I was growing up. But we lived indoors and they lived outdoors. We made sure they had food, water and shelter and they rewarded us by occasionally leaving gifts at our back door. I blogged about the night I accidentally stepped on one of the gifts, while barefoot—it was gross.
But we don’t live in the country like my parents did. So my kids’ cat lived inside, with us. At first it was strange having an animal roaming around INSIDE my house. That’s when I discovered I’m very allergic to cats. But Mr. Fluffy was a good cat—a little eccentric, but a good cat. I say eccentric because he liked water, but seemed to be ashamed of that fact. He was a Maine Coon cat (with a big “M” on his forehead—formed by the stripes in his fur).
We kept Fluffy’s food and water in our laundry room and, when necessary, we closed the door to keep him in there. When we did that, I could hear the sound of water splashing. Whenever I opened the door to see what was going on, the cat would just be sitting there, looking innocent. Then he would look over at me as if to say, “Oh, I didn’t see you there. I’m just sitting here doing nothing.” Once I caught him hunkered over and looking back, as if he was about to do something illegal and worried about getting caught.
The splashing noise kept happening and I got more curious. I started trying to sneak up on the cat. With his hearing, it wasn’t easy. A few weeks later I’d I honed my ninja skills well enough that I actually caught Fluffy making the noise. He was doing a happy dance with his front paws IN his water dish. When I let him hear me, he immediately stopped—and looked terribly guilty. It was as if playing in the water was the kitty equivalent of smoking a joint. The entire time we had Fluffy, he never once played in his water in front of us. Weird cat!
In Part II, I’ll explain how that free cat turned out to be the most expensive one I’ve ever owned and also an example of my daughter’s ability to manipulate me.
PS – I shouldn’t say the cat was weird. Since I spent time trying to catch him playing in his water, I really don’t have room to talk.
But we don’t live in the country like my parents did. So my kids’ cat lived inside, with us. At first it was strange having an animal roaming around INSIDE my house. That’s when I discovered I’m very allergic to cats. But Mr. Fluffy was a good cat—a little eccentric, but a good cat. I say eccentric because he liked water, but seemed to be ashamed of that fact. He was a Maine Coon cat (with a big “M” on his forehead—formed by the stripes in his fur).
We kept Fluffy’s food and water in our laundry room and, when necessary, we closed the door to keep him in there. When we did that, I could hear the sound of water splashing. Whenever I opened the door to see what was going on, the cat would just be sitting there, looking innocent. Then he would look over at me as if to say, “Oh, I didn’t see you there. I’m just sitting here doing nothing.” Once I caught him hunkered over and looking back, as if he was about to do something illegal and worried about getting caught.
The splashing noise kept happening and I got more curious. I started trying to sneak up on the cat. With his hearing, it wasn’t easy. A few weeks later I’d I honed my ninja skills well enough that I actually caught Fluffy making the noise. He was doing a happy dance with his front paws IN his water dish. When I let him hear me, he immediately stopped—and looked terribly guilty. It was as if playing in the water was the kitty equivalent of smoking a joint. The entire time we had Fluffy, he never once played in his water in front of us. Weird cat!
In Part II, I’ll explain how that free cat turned out to be the most expensive one I’ve ever owned and also an example of my daughter’s ability to manipulate me.
PS – I shouldn’t say the cat was weird. Since I spent time trying to catch him playing in his water, I really don’t have room to talk.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Given the slip
Somehow, some way, my wife (K) ended up in possession of a slip that had belonged to my mom. It seemed weird to me. But then, my dad went through a phase in which he kept sending me old (used) socks he no longer wanted. Maybe the gift of something old is supposed to make it new again. If so, it didn't work with the slip (or the socks).
When my great-uncle passed away, K wore the slip under her dress when we went to the funeral home to pay our respects. He'd led a long, healthy life and passed quietly in his sleep. It was not the most somber gathering, but appropriately reserved and low-key.
During a group visit to the ladies room, K mentioned to 2 of my aunts that she was wearing my mom's hand-me-down slip (the 3 of them get along very well). Anyway, K finished first and said she was heading towards the kneeler next to the casket to say a prayer and then we'd probably leave. The aunts asked her to wait so they could go up together. K agreed to wait for them at the entrance to the parlor (if that's what it's called).
The aunts walked up just in time to see the slip fall down around my wife's ankles. One of them quickly picked it up (and hid it in her purse) while the other one whispered, "If you hadn't waited for us, that would have happened right next to the casket." While K turned a deep red, my aunts started howling with laughter in a way rarely heard inside a funeral home. Later they joked that my mom's spirit had pulled it down as a way of saying hello (but the elastic was shot). As far as I know, the aunts never admitted to anyone else what they were laughing about that evening.
PS: Do they even still make slips? My wife has dragged me through the ladies section in Macy's many times...and I can tell you they have 1,292 tiles in the ceiling over that section, but I have no idea what they actually sell.
When my great-uncle passed away, K wore the slip under her dress when we went to the funeral home to pay our respects. He'd led a long, healthy life and passed quietly in his sleep. It was not the most somber gathering, but appropriately reserved and low-key.
During a group visit to the ladies room, K mentioned to 2 of my aunts that she was wearing my mom's hand-me-down slip (the 3 of them get along very well). Anyway, K finished first and said she was heading towards the kneeler next to the casket to say a prayer and then we'd probably leave. The aunts asked her to wait so they could go up together. K agreed to wait for them at the entrance to the parlor (if that's what it's called).
The aunts walked up just in time to see the slip fall down around my wife's ankles. One of them quickly picked it up (and hid it in her purse) while the other one whispered, "If you hadn't waited for us, that would have happened right next to the casket." While K turned a deep red, my aunts started howling with laughter in a way rarely heard inside a funeral home. Later they joked that my mom's spirit had pulled it down as a way of saying hello (but the elastic was shot). As far as I know, the aunts never admitted to anyone else what they were laughing about that evening.
PS: Do they even still make slips? My wife has dragged me through the ladies section in Macy's many times...and I can tell you they have 1,292 tiles in the ceiling over that section, but I have no idea what they actually sell.
Friday, June 10, 2011
While we've got you here...
I'm never going to see a doctor "just in case" ever again!!! Okay, I will, but no time soon. As the ER doctor suggested after my kidney stone experience, I followed-up with a visit to a urologist today "just in case". They needed various fluid samples for testing and the nurse who drew the blood had a really hard time. She poked that needle around in my arm over and over and over. But I didn't mind, it didn't hurt...much. Soon the doc came in the room, told me I was stone free and had nothing to worry about. He did suggest drinking more water and avoiding tea, coffee, salt and red meat--a standard recommendation. Then it happened (and I was wishing to be poked with the needle again instead).
I had started thinking about where to have lunch, but then the doctor asked a completely unrelated question. One men don't like hearing. "When was your last prostate exam?" I swear I could hear the shower scene music from "Psycho". I considered bolting for the door, but there was a nurse between me and freedom. I controlled the fight or flight instinct and answered honestly--"I've never had the exam" and I asked the doc, "But can't we just be friends and only do the blood test???" He chuckled and said it was important to do the physical exam too. I knew he was right. My dad had prostate cancer, so it was irresponsible of me to not have ever had the exam. I'm responsible about everything else. Couldn't I just be irresponsible about this???
I knew what I had to do--I shoved the nurse and ran. LOL, no, I had the exam. It was unpleasant, but at least now I know I'm 100% healthy in that regard.
So the moral to this story is that to protect our health, we sometimes have to do things we'd rather avoid...women probably more so than men. But it's important to take care of yourself--and I mean YOU!!! If you've been putting off a check-up of one sort or another, call and make the appointment today. If you don't take care of yourselves, who will read my dumb stories? Hahaha, that's right...don't do it for yourself or your loved ones, do it for ME!!! ;P
Have a great weekend everyone!
I had started thinking about where to have lunch, but then the doctor asked a completely unrelated question. One men don't like hearing. "When was your last prostate exam?" I swear I could hear the shower scene music from "Psycho". I considered bolting for the door, but there was a nurse between me and freedom. I controlled the fight or flight instinct and answered honestly--"I've never had the exam" and I asked the doc, "But can't we just be friends and only do the blood test???" He chuckled and said it was important to do the physical exam too. I knew he was right. My dad had prostate cancer, so it was irresponsible of me to not have ever had the exam. I'm responsible about everything else. Couldn't I just be irresponsible about this???
I knew what I had to do--I shoved the nurse and ran. LOL, no, I had the exam. It was unpleasant, but at least now I know I'm 100% healthy in that regard.
So the moral to this story is that to protect our health, we sometimes have to do things we'd rather avoid...women probably more so than men. But it's important to take care of yourself--and I mean YOU!!! If you've been putting off a check-up of one sort or another, call and make the appointment today. If you don't take care of yourselves, who will read my dumb stories? Hahaha, that's right...don't do it for yourself or your loved ones, do it for ME!!! ;P
Have a great weekend everyone!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Big Friday Night
I had a really exciting time Friday night. I'd been working long hours the past few weeks and planned a quiet evening at home with carryout and an early bedtime. But the night went in a different direction. For the first time in my life, I said, "I need to go to the hospital!!!" I said it was an exciting night, I didn't say it was fun. LOL!!! And since I'm writing this, there's no way I can keep you in suspense--I'm perfectly fine.
My stomach hurt Friday, but nothing serious. When I got home it was a little worse and by 10pm it felt like something on my left side was about to burst. Had my spleen turned against me? The pain expanded, running from the middle of my ribs on the left side down through my groin. Then I discovered I had (TMI Alert) blood in my urine--a lot. I didn't want to panic. So I played Bejeweled, hoping the pain would end. It got worse. Finally at 11:30 I decided I had toughed it out long enough. That's when I asked my wife to take me to the hospital. That was hard--I'm the guy who takes other people to the hospital. I've never needed that kind of help. The ride was miserable. Like a dog riding in the front seat, I leaned my head against the window—and occasionally out the window.
The ER admission process was almost unbearable, but then I got to lie down and the pain eased a little. Eventually a doctor came by, pressed on my abdomen (ouch) and moved me to a chair. He ordered blood work and that a stint be put in my hand. I was also scheduled for a CAT scan. The unbearable pain returned after the doc moved me. Not all, but most of the ER nurses were annoying. I was in horrible pain, wondering would I hurl or pass out first, and four of them were hooting, hollering and generally being loud and obnoxious about something. I was NOT glad they were having fun. I know, I'm being petty. Don't care!!!
Anyway, at 2:30 a nurse put the stint in and took blood out. Then she led me to a small private room in the ER ward. It was nice to be away from the hub-bub, but the pain persisted. Then an angel gave me a shot for the pain—I love that nurse! The shot worked so quickly I thought it was my imagination. When I mentioned that, the nurse chuckled and said, “Well, I did just put a narcotic directly into your bloodstream.” It was nice—so very, very nice.
At 3:40 an orderly rolled me to the CAT scan. It was fun getting to ride on the gurney—but maybe it seemed so fun due to the drugs. The friendly CAT scan operator said he thought I had a cyst on my kidney. I didn’t like the sound of that. But at 5am the ER doctor came back and said I'd had a kidney stone (no cyst), but had passed it already. Woo-hoo! I jumped up to leave, but the doc sent me to a 24-hour pharmacy for pain meds just in case. My wife had managed to sleep some during the night, but was really groggy when we left the hospital. So I drove home. I was ready—it had been at least 2 hours since I’d gotten that lovely shot. I'll be seeing a urologist on Friday, just as a precaution.
Interesting footnote: According to the nurses, I experienced a pain similar to childbirth. So the jokes are true—our species would not survive if men had to give birth. ;P
My stomach hurt Friday, but nothing serious. When I got home it was a little worse and by 10pm it felt like something on my left side was about to burst. Had my spleen turned against me? The pain expanded, running from the middle of my ribs on the left side down through my groin. Then I discovered I had (TMI Alert) blood in my urine--a lot. I didn't want to panic. So I played Bejeweled, hoping the pain would end. It got worse. Finally at 11:30 I decided I had toughed it out long enough. That's when I asked my wife to take me to the hospital. That was hard--I'm the guy who takes other people to the hospital. I've never needed that kind of help. The ride was miserable. Like a dog riding in the front seat, I leaned my head against the window—and occasionally out the window.
The ER admission process was almost unbearable, but then I got to lie down and the pain eased a little. Eventually a doctor came by, pressed on my abdomen (ouch) and moved me to a chair. He ordered blood work and that a stint be put in my hand. I was also scheduled for a CAT scan. The unbearable pain returned after the doc moved me. Not all, but most of the ER nurses were annoying. I was in horrible pain, wondering would I hurl or pass out first, and four of them were hooting, hollering and generally being loud and obnoxious about something. I was NOT glad they were having fun. I know, I'm being petty. Don't care!!!
Anyway, at 2:30 a nurse put the stint in and took blood out. Then she led me to a small private room in the ER ward. It was nice to be away from the hub-bub, but the pain persisted. Then an angel gave me a shot for the pain—I love that nurse! The shot worked so quickly I thought it was my imagination. When I mentioned that, the nurse chuckled and said, “Well, I did just put a narcotic directly into your bloodstream.” It was nice—so very, very nice.
At 3:40 an orderly rolled me to the CAT scan. It was fun getting to ride on the gurney—but maybe it seemed so fun due to the drugs. The friendly CAT scan operator said he thought I had a cyst on my kidney. I didn’t like the sound of that. But at 5am the ER doctor came back and said I'd had a kidney stone (no cyst), but had passed it already. Woo-hoo! I jumped up to leave, but the doc sent me to a 24-hour pharmacy for pain meds just in case. My wife had managed to sleep some during the night, but was really groggy when we left the hospital. So I drove home. I was ready—it had been at least 2 hours since I’d gotten that lovely shot. I'll be seeing a urologist on Friday, just as a precaution.
Interesting footnote: According to the nurses, I experienced a pain similar to childbirth. So the jokes are true—our species would not survive if men had to give birth. ;P
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Prom Season?
Is it coming up? Did I miss it? I haven't seen any young couples in formal wear crowding local restaurants or cruising through town in rented limos. When I see them each year, I find myself remembering my own prom--and how much it cost.
I didn't rent a limo, instead I borrowed my SIL's sports car. My brother agreed because he owed me money (a good topic for a future post). The extra expense involved my date's dress. She couldn't afford one. But I knew she really wanted to go, so I offered to buy her a dress. We went shopping and she found a pretty yellow one. Two days later she told me she went shopping with her mom and found the PERFECT dress. It was peach. She planned to return the yellow one, but needed cash right away to buy the new one. I gave her money for the 2nd dress to make the logistics a little easier--she returned the first dress the next weekend.
She looked great in her new dress and we had a wonderful time at the prom.
Five years later I saw a group of kids coming out of a restaurant and piling into a shared limo. As usual that prompted fond memories of my prom and put a smile on my face. Then I remembered a minor detail about my event. I never got back the money for the dress my date returned!!!
Oh well, there was no point in trying to collect at that point--since we had just celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary.
I hope late spring is being kind to all of you and giving you reasons to smile too.
PS - My next post is going to be about the very exciting Friday night I just had. I can't decide whether to share it with my brother or not. He'd be so jealous. The night I had was something he's wanted for so long, but can't quite manage. I don't want him to think I'm lording it over him. =)
I didn't rent a limo, instead I borrowed my SIL's sports car. My brother agreed because he owed me money (a good topic for a future post). The extra expense involved my date's dress. She couldn't afford one. But I knew she really wanted to go, so I offered to buy her a dress. We went shopping and she found a pretty yellow one. Two days later she told me she went shopping with her mom and found the PERFECT dress. It was peach. She planned to return the yellow one, but needed cash right away to buy the new one. I gave her money for the 2nd dress to make the logistics a little easier--she returned the first dress the next weekend.
She looked great in her new dress and we had a wonderful time at the prom.
Five years later I saw a group of kids coming out of a restaurant and piling into a shared limo. As usual that prompted fond memories of my prom and put a smile on my face. Then I remembered a minor detail about my event. I never got back the money for the dress my date returned!!!
Oh well, there was no point in trying to collect at that point--since we had just celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary.
I hope late spring is being kind to all of you and giving you reasons to smile too.
PS - My next post is going to be about the very exciting Friday night I just had. I can't decide whether to share it with my brother or not. He'd be so jealous. The night I had was something he's wanted for so long, but can't quite manage. I don't want him to think I'm lording it over him. =)
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