Cumet de Fois

Got to be a part of my niece's wedding Saturday. What a spiritually moving event. Sitting in the temple I love to drink in the Spirit. It was a joy to spend time with all of my family--they are a treasure to me in every sense of the word. The wedding was in Highland, and I got to travel there with my brother, who had flown in from Denver, and parents. What a treat.

On the way (there or back, can't remember), my brother and I were discussing many things, and I don't recall what we were talking about when all of a sudden he said, "Cumet de Fois." I asked him, "What does that mean?" He looked at me funny. It was then I realized that he said, "Kewmit the Fwog." He really doesn't speak French. :)

Other hilarious moments included his retelling of my sister and me folding clothes as part of our chores, then pointing to a pile of freshly-folded linens and asking, "Is that Gomer's pile?" Jesse related that story and I burst out laughing, just at the pure silliness of it all, but then it got better--apparently we referred to Jesse as "Gomer" growing up, and it was his pile of clothes we would point to. I had no memory of that, but it still makes me laugh. Poor youngest brother who had nothing but older sisters to pester and smother him. I'm shocked he turned out so well.

Another was when Jesse used the term, "decidedly odd." If that doesn't tell you something about my brother, I'm afraid you'll never understand. I love that guy immensely.

Cumet de Fois!

Of bubbles and waffles

"Oh, I wanna eat and eat and eat and eat until I die!"

There's a lady here at my work whom I just adore. I can be in the dumps considerably, and after five minutes with her, life is rosy again. I don't know what it is, other than her bubbly personality and joyful outlook. That or she's in a constant manic state. Either way, for me it's infectious. Don't get me wrong--every manic episode seems to require a fall, and she does have those, as well, at which point we lift her back to her effervescent self. Frankly, I love being a part of it.

On another note (waffles), I'm waffling with a decision, and I hate that. Those are the tough ones. Usually my gut tells me right up front, and I'm pretty sure I know the answer with this one, but when I tell myself that's it, I get a little panicky. Not a fun place to be. Sigh. I had surgery five years ago, and now I've learned that some muscles have separated from my ribs, which will require another surgery to fix it. It's not urgent, but it would be nice to get it done. I'm just not looking forward to another surgery of any kind. So I'm still waffling. Writing it down hasn't helped much. :)

The crisis is over

Thank goodness. The project I mentioned in my last couple of posts is in final review, and changes were made to everyone's satisfaction (even mine, if you can believe it). Today I feel like a bump on a log as I'm not in a pressure cooker to get anything done. Just waiting around for reviewers, writers, etc. While it's a relief, it's also a wee bit uncomfortable. Not something I've had the pleasure of feeling for a while.

The other day I was offering 20 points to whomever could tell me the source of this song: "Turkey, lobster, sweet potato pie; pancakes piled up till they reach the sky." Here's a part I can't remember, then on to a big finish: "Oh I wanna eat and eat and eat and eat until I die!"

I know Jesse will guess, and probably most anyone in my family, but it was fun to watch co-workers screw up their faces trying to figure it out. Good luck!

Sometimes when you open a window you get blown against the back wall

So the project I mentioned in my blog two posts ago? That depression over it was nothing. We've all but sent the signs to the fabricator, and now there are contributors who want to monkey with the information on the signs. Months into the project. A window was opened for them to have some input, and I completely lost it last night at work as the gale-force wind rushed in. Sigh. The design team that I've been working with for the last several months is completely finished (although they still have my back, thank goodness) and has moved on to other projects. This is not pretty. You simply can't produce a project like this via outside committee. It doesn't work.

So for now, I have on my wind tunnel outfit and my fighting gear, along with my diplomat face and soft voice. To quote Sandra Bullock's character in Two Weeks Notice, "We shall prevail!"

On a lighter note, my older son is going on his first Scout campout tonight with Ed and the other Scouts and their dads. I'm excited for them. I think Ed's a little overwhelmed, but it should be fun. Oh- and Ed's also having to deal with getting our tub fixed this morning (don't worry--we have a plumber coming). It's got a nasty leak, and the last attempt to fix it (by said plumber) made it worse, but only because the pipes are so old there really wasn't much he could do except come back more prepared this time, with more time to do what needs to be done.

We've been turning our water on and off at the main valve for the last week. It's been kind of like camping. But with heat. And a stove. And a bed.

My boss is going to read my blog

Seriously. We were discussing all the value behind social media, how to use it in the workplace, etc., and I offered to send him a link to my blog. So, Richard, you're now officially recognized in the blogosphere. Hope you enjoy! (Does this mean I have to write in corporate speak now?) ;)

I'm dying here

I'm working on a major project right now, and it's killing me. I think I've spent the last two weeks solid on it, and then in creep those other, annoying little deadlines for ads and whatnot. I was doing fine, getting all excited about being so close to finished, and then the designer I'm working with informs me that we have to re-flow all the copy that we've put in due to a fabrication oversight. Sigh.

For those of you who are not design geeks, let me just say that it completely deflated my balloon. It was the first time in the entire project that I felt desperate for an end. I felt like we had gone back two steps, and now all the stuff I was so close to completing just had to be started over. But that's life, right? We have these setbacks and we just keep going. So I will do that, like a good little soldier.

What about my rights?

At the risk of sounding like a freak, I've got to vent about the airline industry stripping away our rights based on one or two people breaking the rules. I just returned from a conference in Las Vegas, where I took a little time to go shopping after a session. I found these great body sprays at Ann Taylor for $5. Wow! In my packing frenzy to return home, I carefully made sure that everything was where it needed to be in order to avoid the search and seizure routine--except the body sprays. What was I thinking? Needless to say, they were confiscated.

Now, do you really suppose they think we're such a great threat, when all they do is toss everything out in the same bin? Not much risk of these scents combining in that way, is there? Think they might cause an explosion? Anyway, I was furious and ready to sue the airline industry for infringing on my personal rights. Anyone feel the same way? They must collect hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of liquids each year. Sigh.

On another note entirely, the conference was good. It was on Social Media, of all things. One of our keynote speakers was David Pogue, who had me rolling (I had to put your name in here, David, to see if you really would show up and read my blog).

One gentleman at my table asked where I was from, and when I said "Salt Lake," he got kind of misty and said how beautiful it is here, to which I heartily agreed. He then said, "That's a straight shot down I-15 for you to get here, isn't it?" Affirmative. He then cracked me up: "You could make all kinds of analogies about that being a literal descent into hell." Amen.