What can brown socks do for you?

UPS drivers wear brown UPS socks. Talk about brand management. I wonder if they have to wear other brown, UPS-logo'd undergarments. Just curious.

Flowered

Shake it, shake it, shake it like a Polaroid picture

You may have noticed there's a different look and feel to the last two photographs I posted. That's thanks to my new iPhone. Well, specifically, an app that I downloaded for the iPhone called ShakeItPhoto. This is the coolest app, and seeing someone else's work with it is what really gave me the bug to want this phone. That was a few months ago, but my darling (and wise!) husband said, "Hey, aren't there rumblings that Apple is doing a major upgrade on the new phone? Why don't you just wait?" Granted, his reasoning was that with the new phone, I'd be able to pick up the old version for way less. We all know that doesn't really fly, does it? We told cousins Ryan and Michelle that story and Ryan summed it up. "Dude. You know she's not gettin' the old phone."

Anyway.

ShakeItPhoto allows you to take your iPhone's images (captured by the small but mighty 5MP camera on the phone) and convert them into digital Polaroids. You can either shoot directly with the Polaroid, or take existing images and transform them. Your Polaroid slides down the screen just like the original film plates were ejected from the cameras, making the same noise. Then you shake your phone to "develop" the image. How fun is that?

So much fun that I can't stop. Really. This is getting pathetic. I'm going to get carpal tunnel from shaking my phone.

The work I'm producing with this is so radically different than what I usually do (nice crisp images with good lighting) that I'm considering creating a second blog just for the Polaroid shots. The only things holding me back are a.) I don't really have time to update the one blog I have now and b.) I'm so crazy over the new style that I fear my current blog would go photo-free for quite a while until I get over my torrid affair with new technology.

I think I'll just stay put for awhile and ya'all will just have to bear with me and my digital Polaroids.

(No, I'm not retiring the Nikon. No way, no how. That D300 is the best piece of equipment I have ever owned and can capture way more than an iPhone camera ever will. There is a time and a place for both. I'm just having fun playing with something new and different for a bit.)

Meow

Dreaming

Zozo sends her love

The flower headband is from Grandpa Ray and Grandma Judy (purchased at Ballwin Days after my girlie girl spotted a table full of them and turned her big blue eyes on her grandparents and asked for one). The Hollywood sunglasses are courtesy of Grammy and Papa, who brought them back from Florida knowing Zozo would love love love them. The video was shot in the backyard of Grandma and Grandpa-who-live-behind-Zoe's-house (yes, that's their name...that's what she calls them...wordy but accurate) right before we went to dinner and on a search for iPhone 4 cases. Turns out cases for the new iPhone are as hard to come by as the actual iPhone. M's solution: put it in a sock. Because yeah, that's protective and stylish.

Here goes my first try at posting a video to the blog. Hopefully it works, and there'll be more to come.

Bad blogger! No cookie!

I know, I know.  I've been a bad blogger.  Actually living my life seems to get in the way of documenting my life.  In all of last weekend, we had approximately 30 minutes where we sat on our butt on the couch and watched part of a movie.  Other than that, we went to a wake and funeral, cleaned up the house and a car (guess which one), did laundry, mowed the grass, entertained M's colleague from England by taking him to Forest Park and the History Museum, went to the 38 Special/Bret Michaels/Lynyrd Skynyrd concert, gathered our Christmas in June food drive items and ran them up to church, went to mass, ate at The Blue Owl in Kimmswick for the first time, and did a lot of work to put our basement back together for our guests arriving Thursday.  All good stuff, but we were tired at the end of the weekend.

Yesterday my new iPhone 4 was finally delivered.  I've had a blast learning how to use it, and last night Zozer and I made a video and sent it to her Daddy who is in Rhode Island this week.  I'm going to try to figure out how to post images and videos here directly from the phone.  I love technology!

Gone fishin'

Greetings from Arkansas!  I tried posting last night, but the network was down or something.

I'm here in sunny, humid Arkansas, trout fishing with the management team from work.  Just FYI, the management team consists of all guys...and Amy.  It's been pretty good.  I get my own room (the guys have to bunk up) and everyone has been very considerate.  Too considerate.  I had to let Mark know today, "You can say f*ck around me, you know."  Everyone laughed, so that was fun.

We got here yesterday around noon, had lunch, and then started our meeting.  At one point we were an hour behind schedule but then the marketing team rocked (thankyouverymuch) and we finished a half hour early.  An hour and a half before the end was when we started drinking beer, which was just around the time marketing was starting, so that may have had something to do with it.  We did a little pre-fishing at a pond across the parking lot from our cabins and I caught two small fish and unhooked one myself.  That earned me brownie points from Paul, the Official Fisherman of the group, and I got a fist bump.  Great steak dinner at an off-resort place, then back for resting up for today.

This morning we started early...7:30 on the water.  Well, I was up earlier than the guys because I went for a run at 5:30, which was awesome b/c it was on a trail next to the river and I saw bunnies, blue heron and even a deer.  And not a single other person.  Very different from my normal run at the gym.

Anyway, we hit the water early and sheesh, it was friggin' cold.  I wore shorts and a tank top in preparation for later in the day so I froze my butt off while we motored up to the dam.  We're at Gaston's in Lakeview, Arkansas, by the way, which is right near Bull Shoals Dam.  Fog was thick this morning, and it was so beautiful to ride up the river and see fingers of fog flow over the boat, my fishing companions, and me.  We stopped near the dam and got started, and I caught the first fish!  She was a beauty, too.  A rainbow trout about 17 inches long (yep, we measured it...she was fat and long and I wanted to know what I caught).  Up near the dam is catch and release so off she went and I casted out again.  That was pretty much the order of the day.  We were fishing barbless because it's nicer to the fish, as our guide Chuck told us, so we probably didn't catch as much as others were.  I landed five this morning, and six this afternoon.  I didn't think that was too shabby for a girl who hasn't fished since she pulled blue gill from her granny's catfish lakes when she was a kid.

I also impressed the guys in my boat for not being squeamish about touching worms.  Worms don't bother me.  Snakes and spiders?  Yeah.  I'd have gone overboard.  But worms are fine.  We fished with worms for awhile, and something called "egg pattern" which I'm sure Beanie and Shawn, and the whole Winkler/Kohlmann fishing clan will know.  They were about equally effective for me.

I had initially declined the offer to fish with guides again tomorrow, thinking I'd take the morning off and do my own thing.  But I had so much fun today that I think I'll go back out again with the guys.  I mean, how often do I go trout fishing in Arkansas?

So that's what I'm doing for most of this week.  We head home tomorrow afternoon, probably right after lunch.  Earlier this week I was busy getting ready for the trip and swimming.  The swimming is going well.  I miss it down here.  Gaston's does have a pool, but it's pretty small and not conducive to laps, so I'm sticking with the running.  Anyway, I've decided that I would like to have a wife.  Trying to get laundry finished and the house cleaned and myself packed while making sure M and Zozer would be okay and squeezing in swimming at night was too much.  I need a stay-at-home wife to handle things.  Life would be a lot simpler.

I presented this idea to M and he had other ideas for stay-at-home wife duties, which I promptly declined.

Okay, off to get ready for dinner and chill out for a bit.

Carnival

The words "church picnic" or "school carnival" mean completely different things to M and I.  To M, those words mean, "Hey!  I get to strap myself into old, decrepit pieces of steel with flashing lights that are powered by old lawn mower motors and run by people with IQs of about 5!  Sounds fantastic!"  To me, those words mean, "Photo opp!"  I learned long ago to be wary of the rides at a carnival, and have nurtured an irrational fear of Ferris Wheels since my aunt terrorized me and my cousin on one when we were in grade school.

Last weekend we went to a carnival and M made himself happy riding the Rock-O-Plane (kudos to him for remembering to take the dramamine in enough time - I still say it's God's twisted sense of humor to give someone both the drive and ambition to ride carnival and amusement park rides and a whopping case of nausea with any kind of spinning motion) while I made myself happy taking pictures.  When dark clouds and claps of thunder sent everyone scurrying for cover, I went, "Cool!" and snapped away.  The clouds were fantastic.

Yes, I did take photographs of M and Zoe enjoying rides.  I just haven't processed them yet.  Forgive me...tonight I felt like being arty.

Mermaid Update: Yours truly has proven to herself that she can swim the half-mile required in the triathlon.  36 laps in my pool constitute a half mile.  Tonight I swam 50.  With no muscle cramps!  I am happy.  And exhausted.

Oh, so that's what you've been doing...

Many apologies for neglecting to post any photographs lately.  You see, I've become a mermaid.  Or something like that.

Since my BFF signed me up for a damn sprint triathlon that is now less than a month away (remind me why she's my BFF again?) I thought I better, you know, see if I could actually swim.  So Stef went to the pool with me and taught me some basics, and held my hand (figuratively) while I began to paddle.

What I had been dreading for months turned out to be so not what I expected.  Turns out I actually love swimming.  Love love love it.  Will continue to do it after the tri.  I mean, I'm absolutely no good at it (Michael Phelps will not be recruiting me for the Olympic swim team anytime soon), but it's a great workout and I enjoy it.

Unfortunately, my muscles aren't enjoying it so much.  They voice their displeasure by cramping up at the most inopportune times.  Like, in the middle of a lap.  First one foot goes, then maybe the calve, and before you know it the other foot and leg join in.  A quartet of cramps, a choir of charlie horses.  It's getting better, though.  Monday night everything cramped up.  Tuesday night most of it cramped up.  Tonight only one foot and a calve cramped up.  I call that progress.  Despite the cramping, I managed to get 31 laps in, which is good because I need to do the equivalent of 36 laps for the tri.  I'd have done all 36 tonight but I ran out of time, and I ran out of time because I had to keep stopping to rub out muscle cramps.

I guess swimming works different muscles than running, because I pound out 2.33 miles every morning on the treadmill and have no issues.  Then I hit the water and yikes!

Anyway, I'll be back at it tomorrow night, and it'll get better.  But because I swim at night now, after Zozer goes to bed, I get home pretty tired and ready for sleep myself.  Need to figure out a good blogging time in with work, running, swimming and playing with Zozo.

I did process one shot for today, though.  It's become tradition that Zoe's Grammy paints her nails when they see each other.  This time they went all out, and did a rainbow.  Zoe's carefully chose her colors and clearly instructed Grammy which nail to pain which color.  Grammy dutifully obeyed and here's the result:

Adorable!

Bilateral fear

So I was thinking too much this morning, as I am often wont to do, and I came up with a question that I cannot answer.

I figure there are two types of people in this world: those who believe things happen to them, and those who believe they control their fates.  I don't think either is necessarily better...it's just an observation.  I know both kinds of people who live their lives purposefully and meaningfully and with great success.

But I wonder, which is more scary?

Is it more scary to think that you have no control over your fate, your destiny?  That you have to just go along with whatever the world dishes out to you?  There's a certain fear of the uncertain, the unknown, going on there.  Powerlessness.

Or is it more scary to behold the awesome responsibility of controlling your own fate?  I mean, this is it, folks.  One shot.  What if you don't make the most of it?  What if you don't contribute, in some meaningful way, to this world and the people in it, when you had the chance?  What if everything is right there in your hands...and you choke?

Just one of the things I'm thinking about today.

Along with the sheer lunacy of AT&T not being prepared to sell me a new iPhone, dammit.

Jedi Mama

Watch out.  Mama Bear is on the loose.

I've been so, so happy with Zoe's preschool.  Especially this past year in the Bunny Room.  Her teachers there were so extraordinarily fabulous on so many different levels that I have a feeling no other teachers in Zoe's academic career will ever hold a candle to them.

Since I recognize these feelings, I am wary of casting too many dispersions on her new teachers.  "I'm sure they are perfectly fine," I tell myself.  "They are normal teachers, which is good.  Good.  Fine.  Okay."

Only, I don't think they are.  Well, one, actually.

Let's call her Ms. Jabba, since I liken her to Jabba the Hut from the Star Wars movies.  She just sits there, in one spot, like a rock, not moving or interacting with the kids as they come in every morning.  While that bothers me, it's not really enough to launch a formal complaint or do more than whine about her to Zoe's BFF's mom, Carrie, who shares the same feelings.

One day last week, as I was dropping Zoe off, I noticed that Jabba wasn't in her usual chair.  She had actually moved (or been moved?) to a spot on the floor near the back of the classroom where she was so busy giving herself a pedicure (or something more disgusting involving her feet that I don't want to think about) that she didn't notice anything going on around her.  Several children were interacting in the book area nearby, and she couldn't have cared less.  Several more were in block area, and one was getting ready for breakfast with Ms. Lisa (who gets to keep her name since she appears to be a good teacher).  Jabba didn't look up, didn't say anything, just kept digging away at her foot.  Ewwww.

Then, Thursday, something happened that caused me to just about have a parental heart attack.  Here's my e-mail, ripped off to Carrie that evening.  It gives you an idea of my frame of mind.

So as I'm dropping off Zoe today at school, and she pushes me out the door, I pass Ms. Jabba going back into the room.  She's got a styrofoam cup in her hand FULL of white powder.  "Huh," I think to myself.  "That looks like sugar."  I quickly dismissed it and figured maybe she was getting creamer for her coffee or something.  Zoe bounded over to the table and sat down to eat her Cheerios.  As I was walking away, I heard Ms. Jabba announce, "Who wants sugar in their Cheerios?!"  I was running so late that I just beat it and thought, "No way.  No way did I just hear that."

Only tonight Zoe informs me that not only did she get sugar in her Cheerios (for the first time EVER, I might add), she got so much that there was a sludge in the bottom of the bowl that she ATE WITH HER SPOON.

I am so livid I could scream.  SCREAM.

Boatloads of sugar is definitely NOT on the menu at school.  Pretty sure that violates every nutritional standard set by the state and federal government.

Carrie, good friend that she is, responded with a like-minded dose of incredulity and horror. This is why I love her.  We agreed that the first step is talking to the Bear Room teachers and politely letting them know to please not send our kids on a sugar-rush first thing in the morning, thankyouverymuch.  Zoe bounces off the wall without sugar...she'll be stuck to the ceiling with it.

So Friday morning I went in and gamely approached Ms. Lillian (whom we like) about it.  I started by relaying Zoe's story of having so much sugar that she ate it with a spoon.  Ms. Lillian shook her head, "Oh, no.  I'm sure that didn't..." and I cut her off.  "Yeah, you see, the thing is..." and I told her what I saw/heard first-hand.  She was appalled, as she should be, and promised to check into it.  Okay.  Cool.

This morning Carrie and Kaitlyn pulled in as we were getting out of our car, so we all walked in together.  All three teachers were there.  Lillian and Lisa greeted parents and children, interacting and cheerfully starting the day.  Jabba sat at a table and, I am not kidding, addressed invitations to her child's birthday party.

Are you freakin' kidding me?  I'm paying you how much to ignore my child and do your personal stuff on work time?

Carrie and I said our goodbyes to our girls, gave smoochies and hugs, and walked out together.  We made small talk until we were around the corner, then exploded to each other.

"Did you see her?  She didn't even look up!"
"What was she doing?  Were those Spiderman birthday invitations for her kid?"
"There was no acknowledgement of us, the kids, nothing!"
"We just came off a friggin' weekend; she couldn't get those done on her own time?"

We analyzed the situation, and then we did what mothers do best.  We plotted.

I called M afterwards, on the way to work, and relayed the morning's events.

He said, "Oh, boy."

That "Oh, boy" relates to, variously:
"Dear God, what are my wife and Rob's wife going to do now?"
"We really need to have that friggin' barbecue so Rob and I can commiserate."
"Really?  The sugar rampage wasn't enough?  Oh, wait, we're on a different week now..."

I say we're just mama bears protecting our cubs.  Ms. Jabba better watch out or I swear I'll go all Jedi on her ass.

Welcome Home

Zozo and I made this sign last night.  We had fun, and her Daddy loved it when he got home tonight.  She drew our family up there, over the "com" in "Welcome."  I'm on the upper left.  Hootie is below me, and for reasons unknown, is the only one of us to have fingers.  His left - our right - wing (?) is really long and cuts across another figure's legs (Zoe, actually) and then those vertical stripes are, I'm told, fingers.  He has a lot of them.  I didn't ask.  Anyway, as I said, Zoe is next with curly hair, and then there's Daddy.  She did his hair pretty good, but I'm not sure about the Leno-inspired chin.  She also drew a myriad of balloons and smiley faces.  And one smiley-face balloon.

She's very glad he's home.  Me, too.

Bliss

Happiness.  Contentment.  The parts become a whole again.

He presented her with two small British double-decker buses.  She loves them (they're parked in her room by the American school bus, naturally).

We went for frozen custard at the train station.  And saw a train.

He's home.

Feet dry

My boy comes home today, and I just checked his route on Flytecomm.com.  He's gone feet dry, meaning: he's over land, way up north.  Back over North America.

That's oddly reassuring, even though he's still hundred and hundreds of miles from home.

Welcome home, baby.

She sleeps

She was extra tired this morning, so I let her sleep.  

And she was extra beautiful, so I photographed her.

Holy schmoly!

I didn't take this one today, but it reminded me of today, and so I'm using it today.

Last night, as Zoe was being tucked into bed while wearing her brand new underwear, she exclaimed, "Holy schmoly!  These new underpants are comfortable and huge!"

I Facebooked it (I rarely FB anything) because I thought it was hilarious.  But then I realized that I needed to document it here, too, because this is really the running journal of our lives.

M home day after tomorrow.  Finally.  Tonight's the first night we really missed each other.  We tried calling him around 6 our time, which is past midnight his time, and he claimed he was in a "meeting."  Apparently in England "meeting" = "pub."  Anyway, I guess when he tried to call us back it went to voicemail.  I called him again later and woke him up (oops) and he said he left us a message.  I've checked the phone a billion times and not only is there no message, there's not even a missed call.  Damn.

While I know we've been extraordinarily lucky in that we've gotten to talk every day, even if just for a couple minutes, I'm still upset that we missed each other tonight.  Ah, well, tomorrow's another day...and in fact, it's already tomorrow where M is.  So, in M's time zone, he'll be home tomorrow.

Yeah.

I'm tired.

Going to bed now.

Weekend update, with pictures!

I tried to post my pictorial recap of the weekend's events last night, but something was wrong with Blogger.  Many apologies.

Saturday, we went to the World Bird Sanctuary.  Where we met Bogard, among other owls, bald eagles, pelicans, pigeons, chickens, turkey vultures, cranes, hawks and a turkey named Fred.

Bogard

After seeing the birds in the outdoor cages, we relaxed outside the bird hospital and had a snack.  A WBS employee took out a guitar and started singing bird songs.  He was very good, and Zoe and I were thoroughly enjoying ourselves.  Then, another WBS employee came over to Zoe and Hoot.  "Do you like owls?"  "Yes!"  "Ask him to play The Owl Song!"  So she did, and he obliged, and we sang along.

"Hoo hoo hooo hoo hoo hoo hoooooo"

And when he was done playing, my daughter leaned over to me and said, "Ask him to play Bon Jovi."  Yup, she's definitely ours.

On Sunday, Zoe spent some time with her grandparents (who live behind her house) and Mommy spent some time with her own parents and the Corvette.  Papa's Elks Lodge was hosting a car and motorcycle show and we thought it'd be fun to enter it and hang out.

Our 2010 and Mom & Dad's 2000

Knowing full well our entrance fees were a donation, we entered with no expectations and had a good time.  We were required to fill out a form to place in the windshields of our cars, stating our name, the year, make and model, and any special features.  Had M been there, he'd have written a novel.  Since I am considerably less versed in Corvette-language, I simply wrote, "Grand Sport Package."  Papa stared at the line on his own page, saying, "It's just a stock 2000, there aren't any special features."  Then his eyes twinkled and he grinned, before writing, "Driver" on the line.  I think he should have gotten some sort of award for creativity and garnering the most laughs.

After I backed the car into the space, I realized that if M were there, the first thing he'd do is yank the front license plate.  "It breaks up the line of the car."  He's been cursing the state of Missouri for weeks now for requiring a front license plate.  His rebellion is carefully engineered: he purchased a bracket that mounts under/behind the front fascia, where you can slide the plate (mounted in another bracket) in and out easily.  So I pulled the plate off and tossed it in the back of the car.  We snapped a photo with Katie's iPhone (if I had one of my own, I'd have used it...sigh) and e-mailed it to M in England.  Sure enough, his response was something about "Tell Amy good call on pulling the plate...the car looks great!"  (Totally reminds of our wedding day when, as we kneeled at the altar together, he actually leaned back to check my dress, making sure I had the required "butt bow."  He didn't ask for much, so I obliged.)

Beano, Joey and Emma were also there, and we had fun just being together.  It was gorgeous outside, so we relaxed under a shady tree and watch passersby.  I got to dote on Emma again, which made it twice in three days.  She likes it when you say, "Good morning!" so I said that a lot, even though it was no longer morning.  I'll do whatever it takes to get a smile.

Joey was enamored of a very special car in the show, and it was so cool that the owner of this fine vehicle let people sit in it for pictures.  Off Joe and I went, camera in hand, to take advantage of the situation.  He had a big ol' grin, and it was awesome because the car was just the right size for him.  I asked him after the picture, "Would you like a car like that?"  "Yeah."  "Would your mom let you have a car like that?"  "Yeah."  "Where would you drive it?"  "Probably on the highway."

This is the money shot for M, to show him what he missed.

Girls drooling over his mistress.

After the car show, I met up with Zoe and her grandparents at Uncle Ken and Aunt Mary's house for one of her delectable gourmet meals.  These are also money shots to show M what he missed.  He may be in Europe, but man, I'm eatin' better than he is!  What's not to love about homemade paella and tomato-basil bisque?  Eat your heart out, honey!  I scored the good stuff!  How many times have you had fish & chips this week?!

So, all in all, it was a great weekend.  Lots of fun with lots of people.  I wish M could have been here to share it, but he was busy touring castles and seeing Shakespeare's house.  I was awakened Sunday morning with a phone call: "G'day, my lady."  It was adorable, and would have been even more so had he been able to pull off an actual British accent.  His foreign languages all sound slightly (or sometimes very) Jamaican.

Emma's First Photo Shoot

After school/work, Zoe and I headed down to SoCo for a photo shoot with my niece, Emma.  I was lucky...not only is she adorable and easy to photograph, I had a whole band of helpers who had great ideas along with a willingness to foist backdrops, coo and squeak to soothe a baby who was greatly annoyed by my softbox, and position reflectors.  Thank you to Grammy and Emma's parents!

I have more, but I thought I'd stick with the black and white theme tonight.

And these are my favorites.

Water Day

Today was one of Zozer's favorite days at school: Water Day.  The teachers get out hoses and sprinklers and the kids go crazy.  I worried they wouldn't be able to do it this morning because it was so chilly, but I forgot that kids are typically, for the most part, impervious to temperature when there's something they want to do badly.

It reminds me of a couple old family stories.  My in-laws took my husband and his brother out west on vacation one year when they were children, and they passed a water park.  Steve (my BIL) desperately wanted to go to the water park despite the fact that people wearing parkas due to the temperature.  He didn't understand why they couldn't just go for a little bit.

Then there's our cousin Dan, who asked his mom if he could swimming when it was similarly frigid.  His solution?  "I'll just wear a sweater in the pool."

Zozer had her water day after all, sans sweater and parka, and had a blast.

For M, in Denmark

M is thousands of miles away right now, on a business trip in Denmark.  We get to talk briefly, once a day, at around 6 or 6:30 p.m.  Which is well past midnight his time.  Last night we were lucky enough that he was in his hotel room and we were able to do a video chat over the Internet.  He looked exhausted (jet lag + Danish pub hopping three nights in a row will do that to you) but happy.  He lit up when he saw Zozer.

I've taken to sending him daily e-mail updates that he can read at his leisure.  How Zozer is doing in her new room at school, family gossip, etc.  I think he needs some pictures, though, so here are a few taken the last part of May that I just hadn't gotten around to posting yet.

This is her favorite bench at the custard shop near the train station.  We sit here and eat our frozen custard and watch for trains.  It's not a good night if we don't see a train.

She used to look a lot like me.  As she grows, though, she looks more and more like M.  I can really see it in this one.

Who doesn't love a bright red booth at a Mexican restaurant?  Light was just dim enough that I needed to use a flash (grrrr) so I have a bit of bounceback from the seat, but I like it nonetheless.

This one's just for fun...playing around with levels in Photoshop.

Art bling

Zozo and I went to the Art Museum Monday to see the Lee Friedlander prints.  She got the hiccups about 30 seconds after we arrived in the gallery.  Hiccups are really, really loud when echoing off the hard walls of an art museum.  We both got the giggles.  After seeing the Friedlander prints and wandering through some other galleries, including visiting M's most favorite work of art of all time, we checked out the museum gift shop that's just off Sculpture Hall.  Zoe found a basket of beautiful beaded rings, and we just had to have them.  She chose purple, naturally.

First Day of Last Year

Zozo's first day in the Bear Room.  She did great...had a blast (just like I knew she would!).  Although we had this conversation on the way home tonight (which is last night, come to think of it, by the time this gets posted, since I was out late hangin' with my girls and watching the new SATC movie):

Z: Soooo, how long am I in the Bear Room?  A week?
A: Um, no, sweetie.  You're in the Bear Room for like a year, then you go to kindergarten.
Z: [squealing] So I'm in kindergarten now?  Yay!
A: Well, you have a year left of preschool, then you get to go to kindergarten.
Z: Oh.  Okay.

A pause while consideration sets in, or so I think, and then

Z: Hey, me and Kaitlyn today, we played with these little little little little little little little little little little little little teeny tiny balls and you squish them together and make thing so we squished a whole bunch of them together and made poof balls!  Poof balls!

I am not Chuck

The problem with getting a company-issued Blackberry is that you assume all the calls, IMs and text messages meant for the person who used the Blackberry before you.  Especially if that person worked at your company for a gajillion years and used that phone for everything.  Everything in his entire life, professional and personal.

Such is the case with my company-issued Blackberry.  I am now relegated to being a facsimile of Chuck, the dude who had the number before me.  Chuck, apparently, lived his life through his Blackberry.  I answer the phone, "This is Amy," and I get asked for Chuck.  I get text messages for him.  I get voicemails for him, even though the outgoing message states that I'm Amy, and not Chuck.

Apparently Chuck's friends are all idiots, and apparently not close friends since they don't know that Chuck hasn't had this number for six freakin' months.  Chuck's friends also apparently think that Chuck is so busy that he now warrants his own personal assistant, who has taken over fielding his messages, as evidenced by the voicemail I received today.  Despite my outgoing message, the person said, "Uh, yeah, this is Jim.  I'm lookin' for Chuck.  Have him give me a call."  Um. No.  I don't even know Chuck.  I've never met Chuck.  And at this point, Chuck better hope I don't meet him.

A text message from this weekend: Missouri river jugging for catfish tomorrow very early morning text me if for more info if intrested in getting drunk on the river and fishing

That was verbatim, errors and all.

I'm learning what kind of person Chuck is, just by inheriting his phone.  It's not pretty.  I'm quite glad, at this point, that I am not Chuck.  I just wish his friends would stop calling me.