What's Your Sig?

I have this fascination/obsession with people's email signatures ("sigs"). You know, the little ditty that appears automatically (if you set it up to) at the bottom of all the emails you send.

You can tell a lot about a person by what their sig looks like.

You have the no-nonsense folks:
Thanks,
Ben Dover

You have the practical folks:
Joe Bloe
Senior Blowhard
Blowing Division
123 Blowhardest Building
(555) 555-1212

And you have the "my email is way more important than yours" folks:
This e-mail and any files transmitted with it are confidential and are intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are addressed. If you are NOT the intended recipient and you read this email, your head will spontaneous explode into flames and your computer will be immediately erased. Don't even consider forwarding, printing or copying this email or your family and beloved pets will get it too.

Finally, you have the philosophical and/or motivational types. Yes, I must admit that I, Goofy Girl, fall into this category. My standard sig for the past year or two has been this:
What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?

This quote has urged me to do some things that I otherwise would not have tried, so I feel it has served me well. I get responses to it from time to time, so I know folks read it. But it was getting a little stale.

Recently, I changed it to this:
A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds.

This spoke to me since I am definitely looking for opportunities, mainly ones that will make me piles and piles of money. Haven't found any yet, though...

Then a friend suggested this (which I love and am currently using):

If a pretty poster and a cute saying are all it takes to motivate you, you probably have a very easy job. The kind robots will be doing soon.

It has the extra bonus of being funny, which I am known to be at times. I fear I may offend someone and have to take it down at some point, but for the moment, it's working for me.

What's your sig?

Strange Dreams

I had a dream last night that Anthony Kiedis, from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, wanted me. Badly.

Now I don't find Mr. Kiedis particulary attractive. Nor do I have many dreams of this...ahem...nature. I did recently attempt to read a biography on his life, although it wasn't quite interesting enough for me to finish.

Unfortunately for me (more unfortunately for him), in this dream I realized that I was married, loved my hubbie, etc. Darn that reality seeping into dreamland!

I spent most of the dream avoiding this guy. What a waste of a good dream!

Ode to Patchouli Dog

Patchouli dog, patchouli dog, why do you smell?
Cause my owner sprayed me well.
With this stuff she bought at the store.
Oh God, I hope there is no more.

It smells like flowers and oils and such.
Oh, how I fear she paid too much.
Because if she tries to spray it twice
I know that I will not be nice.

I will run and jump and leap
and into the muddy yard will creep
To roll around in the bog
So I can smell like a real dog.

NOTE: This is a poem dedicated to my poor dogs, who endured the wrath of me buying ZUM Mist Doggie Spritzer (Lavender-lemon with patchouli) and trying it out on them. Sorry girls!

I am Woman. Hear Me Whine.

I just got an email from a gal-pal bragging about her new purse. Normally this would not affect me, however, it got me thinking...

I need a new purse. And I need new pants. I need a new wardrobe. Period. Preferably one from the 2000's, rather than the 90's.

I wear the same five things every week. And one pair of shoes. Two if I'm feeling inspired. And they're not even shoes, they are boots. I'm screwed when spring hits. My pants "puddle" around my ankles, because I'm too pain-averse to wear super-high-heels. They also puddle around my butt, because I've lost 10 pounds since buying the pants back in '97.

I saw the "What Not To Wear" girls on Oprah last night and realized that I am a Couture Loser (note the capital letters). Pity me.

Side Note to My Whining: If you haven't read "What Not to Wear", run out now and get it from your local library. It will change the way you dress, and give you a chuckle in the meantime.

My Hilarious Husband

Our family has been sending little "what are you up to" emails around lately. I've been reading them diligently and "hmm"ing in all the right places, before deleting them. I got one today from a random cousin with pictures of her baby attached. I opened one up and just had to comment.

I hit "forward" and sent an email to darling hubbie saying (and I'm quoting now):

I'm sorry, but that's a scary-ugly baby! Yikes!

His reply?

Did you mean to reply to the ENTIRE group?

Ha, ha, what a funny jokester. No, I didn't reply to the entire group (nor did I mean to), but he really scared the shit outta me. Can imagine the family wrath that would have descended? Yowza!

Flowers or Candy?

Since Valentine's Day is approaching like a freight train, thoughts turn to gifts. The stereotypical gift when the receipient is female is flowers or candy (or both, I suppose for the overachieving significant other). Without getting into a big discussion about how fleeting and impractical both of these choices are, let's weight the differences.

Flowers: Die. (well, they do, people!)
Candy: Goes stale. Eventually. Unless you're me and inhale the entire box (regardless of size) within a week.
Point goes to Candy.

Flowers: Smell good.
Candy: Smells better. Actually makes your mouth water. You just can't beat that.
Point goes to Candy.

Flowers: Calorie-free.
Candy: Well...um...unless you get the sugar-free kind (DON'T!), it has calories. More than anyone needs.
Point goes to Flowers.

Flowers: Look pretty on your desk or kitchen table.
Candy: Let's face it. The giant, heart-shaped, bright red box is just plain gaudy. And kind of embarrassing to display anywhere.
Point goes to Flowers.

Flowers: Goofy Girl does not like flowers, unless they are in the ground.
Candy: Goofy Girl loves candy.
Point goes to Candy.

Ding-ding-ding. Candy wins!

What?!? It was a fair match. ;-)

Need a Laugh? I Do.

I need a laugh today. I am home sick. Despite grand efforts to avoid it, I have caught a cold.

A friend sent me this link and it made me laugh (usually an easy thing to do, but not today).

So here's my blog entry for the day. Take it or leave it. I'll be back to my goofy-self soon, I promise.

The LowComDom Online Dictionary

Mind Your Banana!

As I was giving my almost-2-year-old son his morning banana this morning, he noticed something different about it. It had one of those banana stickers on it. You know, the ones Chiquita invented and now everyone copies.

I took the sticker off the banana and put it on the back of his hand. This is where all toddler stickers go, for future reference. He was very intrigued by this new sticker and as his attention went to the sticker hand, the banana-holding hand drooped, putting the banana at a perilous 90-degree angle with the floor.

"Don't drop your banana while you're looking at your sticker!", I cautioned.

Then I stopped and chuckled at how funny that sounded. Then I stopped again and realized that this was pretty good advice, not just for the literal banana and sticker.

If I was Tony Robbins, I would write a book about it, likening the banana to one's dreams and goals in life, and the sticker to the everyday shit that we all have to get through. If we dwell too much on the shit (the sticker), our banana drops on the floor.

Pretty deep thoughts for 7:30am, I think.

Well, you know how it ends. The banana dropped. 10-second rule applies. Toddler picks up banana and continues eating. If only life were that simple...

The "Big Game"

I've been on a search for the truth about something that's been bothering me for a while now...

Why (oh why) can't advertisers use the words "SUPER BOWL" to describe the championship matchup of the two best teams, one from AFC, one from NFC, that occurs on a Sunday in February each year? They talk around it, like it's a 4-letter word. (my count shows 10 letters, including the space)

They can say "Olympics", "Oscars", "Grammies", and "Oprah" without fear of reprisal. Why not "Super Bowl"? Is it because it's trademarked? Surely the term "Olympics" is trademarked, copyrighted, and backed by many, many attorneys. I know "Oprah" is.

So here's what I found... I can't find a reason! Anywhere! Well, okay, I only looked for the past 15 minutes on the Internet. But still!

I will find out for you, dear blog reader. You deserve to know the reason.

The truth is out there.

I am Sick...No I'm Not!

I'm coming down with a cold...or flu...or something that is making my sinuses feel like someone has stuffed cotton balls in them to the bursting point. Instead of saying, "I'm sick" and living with it, this time I'm fighting back!

I'm taking Airborne every 3 hours, as instructed (this stuff actually tastes good and is herbal); Echinacea 3 times a day; Zicam mouth spray whenever I can stand it (it leaves a rusty-nail taste in your mouth for about 3 hours...about the length of time until you are supposed to use it again). I'm also using Afrin nasal spray. I know, I know, it's habit-forming, blah, blah, blah and I will probably get a rebound effect days from now, but I gotta breathe, right?

I'm using a humidifier in my bedroom at night. This is a catch-22, as it is as loud as an airplane and keeps me from sleeping (one of the items required for getting well).

I am motivated to NOT be sick for a week, as with every other cold I ever get.

Stay tuned.