Okay, so I love Christmas. I really really do. The little kids getting excited, the toys in the store, the smell of winter, that chill in the air. Not to mention the christmas songs on the radio, the "magical" tv specials, and that feeling in the air on a cold winter's night when you're cuddled up on the couch with a mug of hot cocoa, there's a Christmas song playing gently in the background, a fire crackling in the fireplace and the Christmas tree glowing brightly in the dark night.
And I wish it would hurry up and get here! I mean, I know I still have shopping to do. I'm a procrastinator. But I don't mind shopping. Just the other day, the heavy-set hispanic clerk at the local dollar store said I had a nice smile (I smile all the time, smiling's my favorite)! How cute is that? I had a little skip in my step the rest of the day from that little self-esteem boost.
But other than a bit of shopping, I'm soooo ready for Christmas to come! I can't stand waiting! The presents are piling up under the tree and it's getting colder and colder outside. We've always had tons and tons of presents under the tree. Growing up, there were 8 people in the house all buying (or having mom buy for them what they picked out themselves) presents for everyone else. That's 8 people buying one present each for Mom, Dad, and each of their 5 siblings. And then Santa would always fill our stockings with more goodies than we ever could imagine. Big family, big Christmas.
Now that the family has grown up a little more, we're including two nephews and a cousin/roommate who will be getting and giving presents! There are going to be a ton of presents under that tree! It's going to look awesome!
My favorite part of the holiday season is giving. I know it sounds lame and like I'm only saying what I'm supposed to say, and I'm not going to lie to you. I love getting presents. But it's really not so much the stuff, or what I get. I like seeing what sort of thing people get me. For example:
My big sister always gets me some sort of girly stuff. Like those baskets with lotion and body wash and things. One year she got me perfume. Britney Spears' Curious perfume to be precise. This sort of gift shows not only that people give the type of gifts they love to receive, but also the kind of gifts they think the person would need or like. I used to hate the gifts she gave because I didn't like "girly stuff" or I thought she was trying to send a certain message with her perfumes and soaps. But I've come to appreciate the thought that went into it. No, she doesn't think I smell bad, and no, she doesnt' think I'm a slob. She knows that having those things for her helps her feel better about herself and makes her feel pretty. And I think that by giving those things to me, she's trying to make me feel better about myself. Which is awesome, because those gifts work. She always knows exactly what to get me to make me feel like a grown up woman, and not a little girl. And I deeply appreciate it.
So when I give presents, I like to show people how well I know them. I love showing my mom that I was totally paying attention that time we were in the store and she was eyeing that cute towel set. I like to show my brother that I totally get his taste in music and know that he would love to have this cd or that record. I love showing my big sister that even though we might not see eye to eye on the things we like, I still care enough to get those things for her.
The message we send when giving gifts is priceless, and helps to convey feelings and emotions. These messages help to define the relationships we share with those around us. And even if we lose that one gift from our cousin we didn't really need but still liked, or keep that boring gift in our closet to re-gift next year, or even if we use that really awesome gift over and over until it's worn down, it isn't really the item that matters. It's what we're saying by giving it.
So this holiday season, I'm going to pay attention and see how my presents are recieved. I'm going to try to get the perfect gift that will convey the message I want to send with exactness. And remember that it's not the size or the price of the gift - it's what you're saying by giving it, and how you can convey your love in the right way to the right people.
(Just a random side note: That little baby crab that Dora helps out by taking it to it's mommy is adorable. I love that episode.)
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Getting a little personal.
It's raining right now. Pretty hard, too. The rain is beating against the window pane and I can feel the cold seeping in from outside. I just know that later, when I go outside, I'll be able to smell it. You know that smell. The "it just rained and everything's starting to dry off" smell. I love that smell.
I was born in Austell, Georgia. The house I grew up in was right across the street from the elementary school that my siblings and I attended. My best friends lived next door, across the street (Not at the school, but across the street the other way. Our house was on the corner.), and halfway down to the cul-du-sac.
The sidewalk near my house had eight handprints on it. When they put it in, Mom and Dad took us out to go make handprints and write our names on the sidewalk.
In the front yard, there was a pear tree that never really produced alot of pears for some reason. Also in the front yard was a tree that was good for climbing. I mean, to even reach the lowest branch, you had to prop your bike up against the tree, but still. Once you got to that first branch, the rest was an easy climb to the top. There was a tree like that in the backyard as well. The climbing tree in the backyard was my favorite. It was right up against the fence, so we could climb up the fence and into the tree with ease. Needless to say, my siblings and I were a climbey bunch of kids. We must've climbed every tree in the neighborhood and the small woods around it at least once each.
So mid '96, when I was about 8 years old, my dad built a loft in the garage. Now, since our house was a split-level house, the garage was pretty darn big. It went from the very bottom, to the very top. And none of the other rooms in the house did that. If it was clean, we could've fit a couple cars in there with plenty of room to spare. But we had so much stuff to store, we could never clean it all. Thus the loft. The loft was supposed to help with storage and getting things out of the way. I'd say it was about 16 feet high, and took up a corner of the garage.
Now, to an eight year old, 16 feet is pretty big. And at first, we probably weren't allowed up there at all. But there were things stacked against the loft, and we were able to climb up and hang out there. Eventually, a TV made it's way into the loft, a couple of cushions, maybe a blanket or two, and it became the place we would go after school to hang out. Just my siblings and I. But mostly just me. I was probably the youngest kid who was allowed up there. My little brothers wanted to come up, but mom never really let them until they were bigger.
So after school, I'd go up to the loft, lay on my stomach next to the 16-foot drop (it's where the tv was, okay?) and watch my afternoon cartoons, play video games or read books. I loved reading books, and I'd be up in that loft for hours at a time with my boxcar children books. Sometimes, my friends and I would hang out in the loft. I think if their parents had seen the loft, they might not have let them come over to our house anymore.
But one of the things I remember most about the loft was that since there was no room above it, and no rooms around it (except the kitchen on the other side of one wall), you could hear the rain very very well. So I would go up to the loft whenever it started raining hard. I say this because when it wasn't raining too hard, I would most definetly be going on adventures in the woods with my friends. But when the heavy rain started and the thunder started pounding, I would go up to the loft, with the lights off, and just lay there, listening. I would even fall asleep sometimes laying there in the dark, listeining to the rain. Since the loft was in the garage, the sound was even louder because of the empty space. I would lay there until mom called me in for dinner or something. It was very nice. And I knew I was safe in the loft. My Daddy built it, so why wouldn't I be? Although I do remember almost falling off of the edge, and that scared the heck out of me. But mostly, I was comfortable with the edge. I would sleep with a leg and an arm hanging off of the edge, or I would be dangling my feet down, or just lay on my stomach and look down at the garage from right there on the edge.
Everytime it rains that hard, I think about the loft, and how I'd love to go back and take a nap in it. But sadly, in the winter of 1999, we tore the loft down because we were moving to Memphis, TN. The people who wanted to buy our house didn't want a loft in their garage, and wouldn't buy our house until we took it down. So down it went. My safe place. My old friend. My loft.
R.I.P Loft
1996-1999
I was born in Austell, Georgia. The house I grew up in was right across the street from the elementary school that my siblings and I attended. My best friends lived next door, across the street (Not at the school, but across the street the other way. Our house was on the corner.), and halfway down to the cul-du-sac.
The sidewalk near my house had eight handprints on it. When they put it in, Mom and Dad took us out to go make handprints and write our names on the sidewalk.
In the front yard, there was a pear tree that never really produced alot of pears for some reason. Also in the front yard was a tree that was good for climbing. I mean, to even reach the lowest branch, you had to prop your bike up against the tree, but still. Once you got to that first branch, the rest was an easy climb to the top. There was a tree like that in the backyard as well. The climbing tree in the backyard was my favorite. It was right up against the fence, so we could climb up the fence and into the tree with ease. Needless to say, my siblings and I were a climbey bunch of kids. We must've climbed every tree in the neighborhood and the small woods around it at least once each.
So mid '96, when I was about 8 years old, my dad built a loft in the garage. Now, since our house was a split-level house, the garage was pretty darn big. It went from the very bottom, to the very top. And none of the other rooms in the house did that. If it was clean, we could've fit a couple cars in there with plenty of room to spare. But we had so much stuff to store, we could never clean it all. Thus the loft. The loft was supposed to help with storage and getting things out of the way. I'd say it was about 16 feet high, and took up a corner of the garage.
Now, to an eight year old, 16 feet is pretty big. And at first, we probably weren't allowed up there at all. But there were things stacked against the loft, and we were able to climb up and hang out there. Eventually, a TV made it's way into the loft, a couple of cushions, maybe a blanket or two, and it became the place we would go after school to hang out. Just my siblings and I. But mostly just me. I was probably the youngest kid who was allowed up there. My little brothers wanted to come up, but mom never really let them until they were bigger.
So after school, I'd go up to the loft, lay on my stomach next to the 16-foot drop (it's where the tv was, okay?) and watch my afternoon cartoons, play video games or read books. I loved reading books, and I'd be up in that loft for hours at a time with my boxcar children books. Sometimes, my friends and I would hang out in the loft. I think if their parents had seen the loft, they might not have let them come over to our house anymore.
But one of the things I remember most about the loft was that since there was no room above it, and no rooms around it (except the kitchen on the other side of one wall), you could hear the rain very very well. So I would go up to the loft whenever it started raining hard. I say this because when it wasn't raining too hard, I would most definetly be going on adventures in the woods with my friends. But when the heavy rain started and the thunder started pounding, I would go up to the loft, with the lights off, and just lay there, listening. I would even fall asleep sometimes laying there in the dark, listeining to the rain. Since the loft was in the garage, the sound was even louder because of the empty space. I would lay there until mom called me in for dinner or something. It was very nice. And I knew I was safe in the loft. My Daddy built it, so why wouldn't I be? Although I do remember almost falling off of the edge, and that scared the heck out of me. But mostly, I was comfortable with the edge. I would sleep with a leg and an arm hanging off of the edge, or I would be dangling my feet down, or just lay on my stomach and look down at the garage from right there on the edge.
Everytime it rains that hard, I think about the loft, and how I'd love to go back and take a nap in it. But sadly, in the winter of 1999, we tore the loft down because we were moving to Memphis, TN. The people who wanted to buy our house didn't want a loft in their garage, and wouldn't buy our house until we took it down. So down it went. My safe place. My old friend. My loft.
R.I.P Loft
1996-1999
Monday, December 8, 2008
Finals Week
Finals are this week.
I mean, it's not that big of a deal. I'm doing pretty good in all my classes (exept philosophy! So difficult!) and I've learnt alot.
My spanish class has been tons of fun, my music class has been really enjoyable, and my computer class has been. . . well. . . easy at least. Philosophy class was one of the most ridiculous things I've ever done. My teacher chose to use a novel as the text for the course, his lectures were dull, uninteresting, and uninformed. And even though I didn't understand everything, I could tell I wasn't alone. The teacher was right there with me. Always frantically searching through his notes trying to answer whatever questions we had. I don't understand why he never liked my questions.
For instance-
1. The teacher explains a theory where- because man is IN the world, man cannot fully comprehend the world.
My Question- What about astronauts?
2. The teacher tells of an analogy where there are people chained up in a dark cave. When someone leaves to go into the light and comes back to tell everyone what they are missing, they kill him.
My Question- If it's dark, and everyone's chained up, how can they kill him?
There were alot more, but honestly? Every single one of those questions was shot down as being a ridiculous question not worthy to answer. So I forgot alot of them.
But even though I'm going to certainly fail philosophy this semester, I don't care. I'll try harder and get a different professor next time. It's not my fault, and I can't do anything about it, so I'm not going to waste my time complaining. I just need to learn from my mistake and try harder next time.
Music appreciation class will be a difficult one to try to remember everything we studied. I know alot of the composers and alot of the compositions, but not when everything happened. I'll have to look over that the next couple days.
Spanish will be easy. I've spent so much time on it already, I feel as if I should be proficient, but I'm not. I wish I knew more, and I wish I was better at speaking it, but I guess I'll just have to keep trying!
Computer class will be a piece of cake as long as I can keep my teacher from driving me insane with all of her nagging.
So exams will be over by 12:00 thursday afternoon. Well, at least mine will be. I have two tuesday and two thursday. And I'm going to take a big nap afterward. I still have a little christmas shopping to do, but I have a few weeks still. And also- Saturday, there will be a huge phase ten championship game. Hahaha! So funny. I'm going to enjoy it! And it'll be the perfect end to what's looking like it's going to be a scary week.
Just a little update. Thanks for reading Mom! (And anyone else who managed to get this far without clicking away to something more interesting- kudos!) :)
I mean, it's not that big of a deal. I'm doing pretty good in all my classes (exept philosophy! So difficult!) and I've learnt alot.
My spanish class has been tons of fun, my music class has been really enjoyable, and my computer class has been. . . well. . . easy at least. Philosophy class was one of the most ridiculous things I've ever done. My teacher chose to use a novel as the text for the course, his lectures were dull, uninteresting, and uninformed. And even though I didn't understand everything, I could tell I wasn't alone. The teacher was right there with me. Always frantically searching through his notes trying to answer whatever questions we had. I don't understand why he never liked my questions.
For instance-
1. The teacher explains a theory where- because man is IN the world, man cannot fully comprehend the world.
My Question- What about astronauts?
2. The teacher tells of an analogy where there are people chained up in a dark cave. When someone leaves to go into the light and comes back to tell everyone what they are missing, they kill him.
My Question- If it's dark, and everyone's chained up, how can they kill him?
There were alot more, but honestly? Every single one of those questions was shot down as being a ridiculous question not worthy to answer. So I forgot alot of them.
But even though I'm going to certainly fail philosophy this semester, I don't care. I'll try harder and get a different professor next time. It's not my fault, and I can't do anything about it, so I'm not going to waste my time complaining. I just need to learn from my mistake and try harder next time.
Music appreciation class will be a difficult one to try to remember everything we studied. I know alot of the composers and alot of the compositions, but not when everything happened. I'll have to look over that the next couple days.
Spanish will be easy. I've spent so much time on it already, I feel as if I should be proficient, but I'm not. I wish I knew more, and I wish I was better at speaking it, but I guess I'll just have to keep trying!
Computer class will be a piece of cake as long as I can keep my teacher from driving me insane with all of her nagging.
So exams will be over by 12:00 thursday afternoon. Well, at least mine will be. I have two tuesday and two thursday. And I'm going to take a big nap afterward. I still have a little christmas shopping to do, but I have a few weeks still. And also- Saturday, there will be a huge phase ten championship game. Hahaha! So funny. I'm going to enjoy it! And it'll be the perfect end to what's looking like it's going to be a scary week.
Just a little update. Thanks for reading Mom! (And anyone else who managed to get this far without clicking away to something more interesting- kudos!) :)
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Engage With Grace
This is important. You'd be surprised the sorts of thoughts this discussion can introduce. Good ones, of course. I was invited to share this with you all by my good friend Paul Levy over at Running a hospital. And I recently printed and discussed this slide with my own family. I think you all should do the same.
(you still have to scroll down and read my thoughtful thanksgiving post if you haven't yet. I spent alot of time on it and want you all to read it. But this is more important I think than that.)
_____________________
We make choices throughout our lives - where we want to live, what types
of activities will fill our days, with whom we spend our time. These
choices are often a balance between our desires and our means, but at
the end of the day, they are decisions made with intent. But when it
comes to how we want to be treated at the end our lives, often we don't
express our intent or tell our loved ones about it. This has real
consequences. 73% of Americans would prefer to die at home, but up to
50% die in hospital. More than 80% of Californians say their loved ones
“know exactly” or have a “good idea” of what
their wishes would be if they were in a persistent coma, but only 50%
say they've talked to them about their preferences.But our end of
life experiences are about a lot more than statistics. They’re
about all of us. So the first thing we need to do is start talking.
target="_blank">Engage With Grace: The One Slide Project was
designed with one simple goal: to help get the conversation about end of
life experience started. The idea is simple: Create a tool to help get
people talking. One Slide, with just five questions on it. Five
questions designed to help get us talking with each other, with our
loved ones, about our preferences. And we’re asking people to
share this One Slide – wherever and whenever they can…at a
presentation, at dinner, at their book club. Just One Slide, just five
questions. Lets start a global discussion that, until now, most of
us haven’t had.Here is what we are asking you:
target="_blank">Download The One Slide and share it at any
opportunity – with colleagues, family, friends. Think of the slide
as currency and donate just two minutes whenever you can. Commit to
being able to answer these five questions about end of life experience
for yourself, and for your loved ones. Then commit to helping others do
the same. Get this conversation started. Let's start a viral
movement driven by the change we as individuals can effect...and the
incredibly positive impact we could have collectively. Help ensure that
all of us - and the people we care for - can end our lives in the same
purposeful way we live them. Just One Slide, just one goal. Think of
the enormous difference we can make together.
(To learn more please go to
target="_blank">www.engagewithgrace.org. This post was
written by Alexandra Drane and the Engage With Grace team)
___________________________
Thanks Paul for inviting me to be a part of this endeavor! I'm glad I had the opportunity!
(you still have to scroll down and read my thoughtful thanksgiving post if you haven't yet. I spent alot of time on it and want you all to read it. But this is more important I think than that.)
_____________________
We make choices throughout our lives - where we want to live, what types
of activities will fill our days, with whom we spend our time. These
choices are often a balance between our desires and our means, but at
the end of the day, they are decisions made with intent. But when it
comes to how we want to be treated at the end our lives, often we don't
express our intent or tell our loved ones about it. This has real
consequences. 73% of Americans would prefer to die at home, but up to
50% die in hospital. More than 80% of Californians say their loved ones
“know exactly” or have a “good idea” of what
their wishes would be if they were in a persistent coma, but only 50%
say they've talked to them about their preferences.But our end of
life experiences are about a lot more than statistics. They’re
about all of us. So the first thing we need to do is start talking.
target="_blank">Engage With Grace: The One Slide Project was
designed with one simple goal: to help get the conversation about end of
life experience started. The idea is simple: Create a tool to help get
people talking. One Slide, with just five questions on it. Five
questions designed to help get us talking with each other, with our
loved ones, about our preferences. And we’re asking people to
share this One Slide – wherever and whenever they can…at a
presentation, at dinner, at their book club. Just One Slide, just five
questions. Lets start a global discussion that, until now, most of
us haven’t had.Here is what we are asking you:
target="_blank">Download The One Slide and share it at any
opportunity – with colleagues, family, friends. Think of the slide
as currency and donate just two minutes whenever you can. Commit to
being able to answer these five questions about end of life experience
for yourself, and for your loved ones. Then commit to helping others do
the same. Get this conversation started. Let's start a viral
movement driven by the change we as individuals can effect...and the
incredibly positive impact we could have collectively. Help ensure that
all of us - and the people we care for - can end our lives in the same
purposeful way we live them. Just One Slide, just one goal. Think of
the enormous difference we can make together.
(To learn more please go to
target="_blank">www.engagewithgrace.org. This post was
written by Alexandra Drane and the Engage With Grace team)
___________________________
Thanks Paul for inviting me to be a part of this endeavor! I'm glad I had the opportunity!
Thanksgiving! To: You
Alright, so after spending all day on Twitter today, I feel like making a thanksgiving post. I saw so many friends wishing each other a Happy Thanksgiving and expressing their gratitude for friends and family (and twitter). And I thought that yaknow what? 140 characters is too little space for me to express myself and the gratitude I feel.
I'm listening to christmas music, smelling the thanksgiving dinner, waiting to eat the apple pies I made myself, helping mom clean and cook. I chopped up a ton of potatoes today for mashed potatoes later. I'm hear my nephew complain about being bored and my mom calling for a different tablecloth. . all the usual sounds of the holiday. And it makes me feel grateful. What am I grateful for you ask?
I'm thankful for the fact that my friend Vijay doesn't live in Mumbai. Oh my goodness how I'm thankful for that.
I'm thankful for the fact that even though this blog has only been around for a year or so, and isn't very good, that I still have so many amazing friends who read and comment on it that I've never even met in real life. I love you all. I really do. It might sound weird, but I have all of your collective backs if you ever need anything.
I'm thankful for the plenty of friends I have in my life who read and comment on this blog. Thanks guys. I appreciate the fact that you find this blog somewhat amusing at times. And I'm grateful that you are all there for me.
I'm thankful that Leif doesn't think I'm creepy. I honestly am soo grateful. Anyone else would've taken out a restraining order against someone like me commenting like I do at his blog. (I know I would've) And that he understands that I'm just playing around. Thanks for indulging me in that sense, man. I appreciate it. (Although I am usually not lying when I say that you are witty, charming and handsome. You know that's the truth ;) )
I'm thankful that my family gets along. My parents are still together after 25 years, and my brothers and sisters and I all speak to each other and love each other very much.
I'm thankful that I have a ward family that I get to spend so much time with. I love all of them and have soo much fun hanging out with all of them. Yay ward!
I'm glad I get to spend so much time with my family. We all live relatively close (haha relatively. . like relatives get it? hee hee) enough so that we can all spend time with one another.
I'm grateful for my big brother and the example he sets for me. I'm glad we spend so much time together playing video games, going camping, etc. It's awesome.
I'm thankful for twitter. I know that sounds kinda retarded, but I am. Um, thankful that is, not retarded. Well. . . But I digress (lol the smiths). Twitter helps me to keep track of my friends and stories and helps me to build a stronger friendship with those I care about. And I'm glad that I have the opportunity to learn so much more about you all!
I'm thankful for the home I live in, and how hard my parents have worked to afford the lifestyle I'm used to. Cable t.v. AND my own room?! Sweeet. I'm grateful that my parents love me and my siblings enough to be here doing this for us.
I'm thankful for the opportunity I have to gain knowledge. To grow. To learn and to experience. This is a sweet life I get to lead, and I am grateful I get to live it every day.
I'm thankful for music and the role it plays in my life. I love that I love it, and I love that I know so much about it.
I'm thankful for the church I belong to, and the opportunities I have there to learn more about my savior's love for me and the gospel he has brought to the earth.
I'm thankful that I'm an honest person. I love the feeling that comes with complete honesty.
I'm grateful for my testimony and the spirit's influence in my life.
I'm thankful that I've been able to avoid harmful substances. I don't smoke, drink, do drugs, or anything like it, and I never have, and I'm glad.
I'm thankful for the people I am surrounded by on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. I'm glad that they're kind people who understand my standards and values and respect them.
I'm thankful for fuzzy slippers and hot chocolate in the chilly november.
I'm thankful for all that I know about the world, and all that I don't know. It will be an adventure learning about culture, people, religion, and societies.
I'm thankful for love.
I'm thankful that even though I don't have a guy in my life, I don't mind. I'm glad I don't feel like a relationship is something I need to have in order to feel good about myself.
I'm grateful that I have a healthy self esteem, and that I can encourage others to feel the same way about themselves. And I'm not trying to get all Richard Simmons on you, but- You are a beautiful person. Remember that.
And finally- thank you all for the people you are and for the examples you set for me. Thank you for indulging me when I want to play four different games of wordscraper and scrabble in the same day. Thank you for coming here and reading this. Even if it's only scanning through looking for your name or something you might find interesting. Thanks. Thank you all for teaching me whether it be by example or just by being there for me. Thank you all for being the wonderful caring people you are, and for actually wanting to spend time with me. Thank you for making me feel special whenever I need it.
I love you guys! Happy Thanksgiving!
(just so ya know. . . that turkey up there. . .I put my hand up to the computer and traced it on mspaint) ;) hee hee
Thursday, November 20, 2008
I politely decline your invitation. . .
Since starting this blog, I have made an e-mail account to go along with it. You can see it over in the sidebar under the "Contact Me" box. ---->
Now, usually, this is a neat little thing to have. I loved the fact that as soon as I set it up, Doc A sent me a quick e-mail saying hey. I love when I get updates telling me someone new is following me on twitter. I love sitemeter's e-mails telling me that people actually come to this site and check things out. And I welcome any e-mails from friends who want to say hi!
But sometimes, having an e-mail like this is bad news bears, because it means people you don't want contacting you can contact you anyway. But I guess that's why I wanted a seperate e-mail for the blog? An e-mail account that could take a bullet for my real one by accepting impersonal advertisements and offers etc. etc...
Alot of you know what I'm talking about. But let me clarify.
A certain website contacted me awhile back telling me that they loved my blog and that they wanted to feature my blog and have me blog for them blah blah blah. No, I will not tell you what website, but if you follow me on twitter, or you're a medblogger who has had "trouble" with them as well, you probably know. Now, I knew I'd seen this company before and that I wasn't too happy with it then. So when they e-mailed me, I was cautious. I don't want anything to do with them or their website. So I ignored their "invitation".
Just today, I logged into my g-mail to check my mail (of course!) and I had another e-mail from the same site, inviting me yet again to be a part of their "community".
I felt like ignoring them, yeah. But I also felt mad. I know the sorts of things they do, and I don't approve of their ways of doing things. So I e-mailed them back. Better to be proactive about these things, right? The best way to fix a problem is not to sit on your keister and wait for it to go away or pretend it's not there. The best way to fix a problem is to do something about it. (most of the time anyway, I can't guaruntee "doing something about it" will work with every problem)
My e-mail to them:
Dear _______,
I hereby decline the offer. This is not the sort of thing I would like to participate in at all. So no thank you. And if you even read my blog, you would know that the closest I have ever gotten to working in a hospital was during my acting gig, and that I don't really blog a whole lot about health related issues. I'm planning on going to medical school, yeah, but honestly? right now, my blog is one of a community college student who dreams of being a doctor and lives in her mother's basement, and the social interactions that ensue. So please do not contact me again about this. Your company is one with which I would not like to be affiliated. Do not link to my site, use any of my information, or "set up a profile" for me. The e-mail was very flattering, but (and I use this term figuratively) I'm not buying it.
Very sincerely,
Mary
Student / Unemployed Freeloader
Living in my mom's basement, Inc.
Now, usually, this is a neat little thing to have. I loved the fact that as soon as I set it up, Doc A sent me a quick e-mail saying hey. I love when I get updates telling me someone new is following me on twitter. I love sitemeter's e-mails telling me that people actually come to this site and check things out. And I welcome any e-mails from friends who want to say hi!
But sometimes, having an e-mail like this is bad news bears, because it means people you don't want contacting you can contact you anyway. But I guess that's why I wanted a seperate e-mail for the blog? An e-mail account that could take a bullet for my real one by accepting impersonal advertisements and offers etc. etc...
Alot of you know what I'm talking about. But let me clarify.
A certain website contacted me awhile back telling me that they loved my blog and that they wanted to feature my blog and have me blog for them blah blah blah. No, I will not tell you what website, but if you follow me on twitter, or you're a medblogger who has had "trouble" with them as well, you probably know. Now, I knew I'd seen this company before and that I wasn't too happy with it then. So when they e-mailed me, I was cautious. I don't want anything to do with them or their website. So I ignored their "invitation".
Just today, I logged into my g-mail to check my mail (of course!) and I had another e-mail from the same site, inviting me yet again to be a part of their "community".
I felt like ignoring them, yeah. But I also felt mad. I know the sorts of things they do, and I don't approve of their ways of doing things. So I e-mailed them back. Better to be proactive about these things, right? The best way to fix a problem is not to sit on your keister and wait for it to go away or pretend it's not there. The best way to fix a problem is to do something about it. (most of the time anyway, I can't guaruntee "doing something about it" will work with every problem)
My e-mail to them:
Dear _______,
I hereby decline the offer. This is not the sort of thing I would like to participate in at all. So no thank you. And if you even read my blog, you would know that the closest I have ever gotten to working in a hospital was during my acting gig, and that I don't really blog a whole lot about health related issues. I'm planning on going to medical school, yeah, but honestly? right now, my blog is one of a community college student who dreams of being a doctor and lives in her mother's basement, and the social interactions that ensue. So please do not contact me again about this. Your company is one with which I would not like to be affiliated. Do not link to my site, use any of my information, or "set up a profile" for me. The e-mail was very flattering, but (and I use this term figuratively) I'm not buying it.
Very sincerely,
Mary
Student / Unemployed Freeloader
Living in my mom's basement, Inc.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Everyone else is doing it.
I know sometimes, I'll read a blog post that happens to be an open letter addressed to some famous person, usually politically based. And I think: How interesting! This person is writing to this famous person about something and maybe that famous person will happen across this open letter to them and consider the contents therein.
So now it's my turn. I've been wanting to do this for a long time.
An Open Letter to Owen Wilson.
Dear Owen Wilson-
Really not trying to be mean here. And I'm probably sure I could find an answer by searching on Google. But I've been wondering this since I was 13. . .
What's up with that nose?
Very sincerely
Me.
So now it's my turn. I've been wanting to do this for a long time.
An Open Letter to Owen Wilson.
Dear Owen Wilson-
Really not trying to be mean here. And I'm probably sure I could find an answer by searching on Google. But I've been wondering this since I was 13. . .
What's up with that nose?
Very sincerely
Me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)