They have some really great prizes. I'd be happy to win any of the them. My preference would be one of the many Target Gift Cards. That would give me a little mad money to buy myself something or get Anastasia something purdy.
At Lola's Diner I share recipes and conversation across a virtual lunch counter. Topics are varied and can include current events, politics, parenting, and glbt topics.
I live with my Partner and my teenage daughter and son.
The month of March is Comment Response Month at Lola's Diner. I'm awarding Entrecard Credits to the Top Commenters in March. If you are new to Lola's Diner, pour yourself a cup of joe or order up a hand dipped milk shake from the fountain and leave a comment. Come back early and often! There is still plenty of time to rack up comments before the month is over.
Actually this happened to me. I mean the bad haircut, not that I saw someone else getting a bad haircut. At the time I wore my hair short. Kind of Ellen short, but not quite that style. The stylist (and I use that term loosely) didn't seem to understand English. It was clearly not her first language. When I explained how I wanted my hair cut, she nodded and mmm hmm'd. (Not a good sign.) I explained that I wanted it short, tapered in the back and then use the electric trimmers to clean up the back of my neck. She grabbed the scissors and just started wildly clipping. (Not unlike Edward Scissorhands, minus the scissorhands.) She was doing a real hack job and I could tell already this wasn't going to be good. A few minutes later she grabbed the electric trimmers and started lopping off patches of hair from the back of my head. I yelled for her to stop. She jumped back, said 'ok, ok' and went back to the Edward Scissorhands impersonation. After awhile she deemed my haircut done. I went to pay, got in the car with the family and started to cry. My husband (now ex) could not believe what the back of my head looked like. He kept asking me why I didn't say something. I was afraid she was the manager. I told him to go in and ask for the manager. I wanted to make sure little Ms. Scissorhands was not the manager. He came back. She wasn't, so I went back in to complain. The manager ended up doing the best she could to even out my haircut and blend in the bald patch.
To this day I will never step foot in any location of that particular hair cutting chain. When I go for a haircut, I need to psyche myself up for it. I'm not joking. It was very traumatic. I will literally take a few days talking myself into it, then going over the successful haircut in my head, thinking about how nice it will look. I am now a regular at a different hair cutting chain near my home. I've even gone to their free hair cutting events when they have training in the back room. I still have to psyche myself up for it, but I know that the instructors (who are the best) will go over my head thoroughly and make sure my hair is cut evenly and that it is exactly what I want. I need a haircut now but I just can't afford it. I'm trying to wait it out until the next training session. Times like this I wish I could cut my own. I cut my son's hair all the time. (Fade with a flip in front.) In fact he prefers it over the training session because he says I'm faster and I do a better job. Maybe if I got a few extra mirrors...
Michelle, the blog's author was inspired by her favorite childhood book, Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. She has made a very ambitious goal to give in some way every day in 2009 for the simple joy of giving joy, and she is sharing her experience with her readers not for credit or accolades, but instead to highlight the simple blessings that are reaped along the way. She gives to reputable charities and through simple acts of kindness to those in her path. Please check out her blog, I know it will inspire you to look differently at the small charitable opportunities you might be missing everyday.
"Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated." - Mark Twain
To everyone concerned about my glass eating incident (how bad does that sound? Sounds almost trailer trashy, doesn't it?) I am perfectly fine. So far. Knock on wood. I just really wanted to quote Mark Twain, how often do you get to do that?
You wouldn't believe the trouble I had concocting the subject line. I didn't want to scare anyone into thinking the worst about me.
In my blog hopping, email checking and online newspaper reading this morning I came upon this AP article, Death Leaves Online Lives In Limbo. The article talks about what happens to a person's online life when they die. Not only online gamer sites, but social networking and blogs as well. How do family members notify their dearly departed loved one's online community?
The article offers several options, including several services which offer to maintain and encrypt information and allow it to be accessed by whomever you specify. Suggestions were also offered to leave a listing of sites and passwords with a trusted family member or friend.
The services charge an annual fee, sometimes quite high, as much as $30 a year. Kind of taking advantage don't you think? The other suggestion, I don't know that it would work for me. I've given Anastasia my passwords several times, but she still couldn't log into my email if she wanted to because she can't remember them. Not high on her list of priorities. I can't even get her to remember where the wills are, let alone what my passwords are.
I know I've come across a couple of bloggers, not anyone I've known or followed, who have passed away from cancer and they had bloggie friends who were also real life friends and those bloggie/real life friends kind of notified everyone via a chain of blog posts throughout the blogosphere. That's completely doable, if you have bloggie friends who are also real life friends.
What about you? I don't know about you, but this is not something I've ever thought of. What would you do?