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Archive for May, 2009

I’ve been reading about the imminent demise of voicemail, which is quickly being replaced by email and messaging technology. Good riddance, really. There’s little I dislike more than strolling back to my desk to discover a little red light indicating a message.

Luckily, the jobs I’ve had for the last couple of years have required little phone time, so I haven’t seen the little red light very much.

The one thing I will miss about voicemail is a game that I’ve dubbed “Voicemail DJ.” The rules are simple: Identify several songs that annoy your co-workers, or songs that are just outrageously funny. When you hear one of those songs on the radio in the car, gym or mall, you call a co-worker’s voicemail (this game is only played when you’re certain no one will pick up the phone) and let the song leave a message.

Sure, it sounds stupid, but you really haven’t proven your worth until you’ve managed to explain to your company’s CEO why you’re playing “Baby Got Back” on your speakerphone at 8 a.m.

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Morgus (maybe)

This is Morgus, my mom’s long-lived dog. I found him in a cemetery when he was a puppy. Ever since I got my digital photo scans back from ScanCafe, I had been thinking it was Newsted, the psychotic hound dog that I found outside my high school gymnasium.

Obviously, I shouldn’t be in charge of naming animals or making sure their stories live on in memory.

I have to highly recommend ScanCafe. They’ve scanned a few hundred old images for me over the past couple of months, with impressive results from 35mm negatives, color slides, and even Polaroid prints from the 1970s.

It’s beyond cool to see old pics that were formerly just laying around in boxes brought to life on the computer screen.

Also beyond cool: accurate recollections of names and faces. But I guess sometimes a girl can’t have it all.

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Me on my wedding day

Me on my wedding day

My mom on her wedding day.

Mom on her wedding day

First of all, how much of a babe was my mom on her wedding day?

I was flipping through old photos on Mother’s Day, and it occurred to me that most brides get the same wedding-day advice from their mothers – stand up straight, blot your lipstick, don’t drink more than two glasses of champagne every hour, etc.

My mom didn’t load me down with nitpicking advice. On the way to the ceremony site, she sat next to me and explained that she really liked my fiance and thought he was the perfect man for me. She added, though, that if I had any idea that I didn’t want to get married, for any reason at all, then we would just keep driving.

I was never clear whether this “we” included my future father-in-law, who was chauffeuring us both around. My mom is the queen of Plan B, so for all I know she had a black Trans Am hidden behind a billboard, ready to make our getaway a la “Smokey and the Bandit.”

Trust me, if the woman ever got behind the wheel of a V8 muscle car, no one would catch up to her until she hit the Texas state line.

I didn’t take her up on her offer, and neither one of us has regretted it. If I hadn’t married my fiance, I think she may have tried to adopt him.

I don’t know that I ever told her how much I appreciated the thought, though, knowing full well that she was willing to risk a museum full of angry out-of-town relatives if I needed an out. And if I had to let anybody drive 130 miles an hour while I was stripping off wedding gown parts and letting them fly into the wind, it would be my mom.

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Snow crows

Snow Crows

Yes, WPOFD, I have seen snow. As you can see from the plastic bags that my brother and I are wearing over our shoes, however, my family wasn’t very good at snow.

Note that I rocked the outerwear early on. I’m loving that plaid coat.

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