Uncoventional Wisdom

A blog sage once said, “Never discuss work on your blog.” Since that ‘sage’ probably had more than five people reading hers and since I never give the address out to clients…

WORK: Here come da flood. Seriously. We just took on a project of enormous proportions. It could be one of the biggest and most comprehensive we’ve had in our three years of existence. Very cool. Now we just need to figure out how to delegate some pieces/parts. (I am very bad at delegating.) But for the time being, there’s not much to hand off. It’s all upstairs in the vault for the b-partner and me both. (We’re still in the kick off and brainstorm phase.) And so last week we had our first big meeting with the client. We came prepared with an official-looking document. I even spent the day before researching copyright law. (My summation was reviewed by a staff attorney who actually agreed with my conclusions. Shocker. I knew I should have taken the LSAT.) You’re getting the picture here, right? Mama goes corporate. Tries to shake off the baby poo and act like I know a thing or too. And as we are talking — meeting going well — I start to say “brainstorm” and it comes out “breastfeed.” Oh my. The good news is that we got the project anyway. Won it over two other agencies in fact. So there. Mamas can sling hash and bring home some cash. (What is up with my rhyming today?)

NON-WORK: We just made it through the busiest Memorial Day weekend on record. Friday was the big pasta dinner at Miss 6’s school. The grand finale to fitness club. We made a gallon of sauce and Miss 6 won a medal. She’s slept with it every night since.

Then Saturday was…are you ready for this?...the last Saturday morning ballet class. Yes. It’s true. Miss 6 has her recital this coming up weekend. So we could have weekends with nowhere to be. (Ha.) After the last ballet class, we met our New Orleans friends at the Creek Festival. (They were in town with their five kids for the weekend.) Then it was back home for a birthday party for the youngest offspring of Neighbor Jane. I took the blender over and we had pina coladas while a magician pulled things out of his a**.

Sunday it was back downtown for more festival festivities with the NOs. (Did I mention that they have five kids?) We hit Whole Foods on the way home and spent the rest of the afternoon watching Miss 6 do laps on her bike.

Monday was the Bolder Boulder. (For non-townies, this is Boulder’s biggest event of the year. A 10K/6.2 mile race that brought in over 50,000 participants this year.) For a mere $35 you get a full day of torture. And a number to pin to your chest. This year they threw in a chip to strap to your foot. Next year I am hoping for a hat with built in GPS tracking. The shoe chips didn’t work right, meaning thousands of Boulder’s most anal and avid athletes had to wait a whole two days to get their race times. For us, we were lucky to get ourselves, Beanie, Miss 6 and her friend, Jamesy (one of the NO 5), into the stadium before the parachutists. Walking a race that brings out the competitive nature in the most casual runners can be a hoot. I’ll admit to being one of the crazy racers over the years. But this year it was all about a day with the family, plus one. As it turned out, the kiddos did great and Beanie slept the whole time. There was no torture to be had. At least until we crossed the finish line and the much anticipated snack bags had run out. But we had our memories…the running banana, the cartwheel guy, the belly dancers, the Elvis impersonators, Miss Tutu, and the many water gun squirts and high fives along the way. We topped it off with our annual trip to Red Robin with TRPL TRBL and fam. Followed by a party at Purse Girl’s house. Oh yes. Fun to be had by all. (And I ended up buying yet another Ric Rac. I now own three. I’m a Ric Rac Ho.)

Then, yesterday a guy showed up in a white coat to take my blood. Three vials. Then he asked me to suck on this swab for two whole minutes. In exchange I got a signed letter to mail in and collect $20. And the knowledge that by handing over my bodily fluids, I could be helping rid the world of West Nile Virus. I also found out that my extreme fatigue may not just be extreme fatigue. It is probably the virus. Now I have the ultimate excuse to nap at will. Life is good.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: 16 Military Wives. The Decemberists. ...if America says it’s so. It’s so.