3 Questions You Should Just Let Me Ponder

If you use your child’s name as part of an online or network password, do you actually run the risk of forgetting your child’s name?

Like you’re sitting there one day, dying to check the spam building up in your “second” email account – which you use for retailer and airline spam and questionably tasteful picture-of-the-day subscriptions – and as you begin typing the password (starting with a month/day code of a child’s birth of course), you realize you don’t know which child’s name you used, or if you used the entire name (Samantha) or the abbreviated/nick-name (Mantha), and then as you rack your brain trying to work all this out, you realize…OH NO… the name escapes you entirely! To add insult to injury, you’ve just forgotten your password, too. Which, as we know, is inevitable. Later, you run into your child – also inevitable since you live with them – and all your flustered brain can manage to send through your mouth is “Oh hey there, uh, password to my Hotmail account. How was your day?”

If you lose your mobile phone, and nobody is around to call you, did it ever exist?

I was faced with this conundrum recently whilst on a sports-watching holiday in friendly Florence, Alabama. Florence is quite easy to find on a map: look at the dangling protuberance at the southwest corner of Alabama – call them Alabamacles? – and then go straight north all the way to the Tennessee border. It’s within 300 miles of there. OK, maybe not the most direct way to point it out, but I did get you to see Alabama in a whole new way. (Thanks, Matt, for the inspiration.) Anyhoo, I lost my Samsung Omnia touch screen web-browsing text machine, which places something called “telephone calls” from time to time, somewhere around the place in which we parked for the game many hours earlier. Inexplicably, we made it all the way back to the hotel in Decatur (again, Alabamacles, then straight north but a little further east) before I realized the device was no longer in my coat pocket, nor in a pants pocket, nor in the trunk, nor in my hand. And there was no chance of finding it now that it was dark and we were 50 miles away. Strangely, a sudden calm descended on me as I realized I no longer needed to compulsively check for new texts. I had no desire whatsoever to check my Fantasy Football scores the following day on my mobile browser. I spent less time in the bathroom since I didn’t have to start a new game of Jamdat Bowling. I even used a PAYPHONE. You remember those; they’re the silvery boxes where you put in quarters and get a friendly, female voice to let you know you have 5 minutes to place a call and you’d better get yakkin’ cuz you just used up 2. This oasis of personal freedom lasted a good 2 days, until my mobile’s insurance carrier zipped me a replacement, no questions asked. Now it’s back to—hold on, I have to go. Texts coming in.

If IKEA furniture were harder to put together, would we ever put up with its chipped edges and dodgy fasteners?

We have no less than 17 pieces in our home (including each dining room chair) which Annie or I assembled using the illustrated, non-gender monster guided instructions. Assembled well even, although it’s probably hard to do a poor job of assembling pre-drilled boards with wooden pegs and lock screws. It’s essentially Tinker Toys for grownups, let’s be honest. I shouldn’t really complain; our furniture looks great in our home and has afforded us some modernity and matching color schemes which we might not have otherwise achieved. In college, for example, my shared rented house had a set of donated couch, chair, and ottoman that matched (in lovely green plaid) and then 24 other miscellaneous TV stands, folding chairs, long mirrors, coffee tables, handy plastic crates, and upside down wastebaskets covered with a towel (end tables). Clearly I have experienced a major furniture upgrade in my life and for that, IKEA, I thank you. And for the Marabou chocolates and Daim candies, too. And Swedish meatballs.

Rockin the 80s

Annie and I went to the IKEA 'holiday party' this week. The theme was "80s Prom".

Here is our Prom Picture.


That is my real facial hair, and what you can't see is the tie maintaining its skinny width all the way down. She was rocking a shiny faux-wrap dress that came together at the hip with a huge round buckle. Totally Awesome!

I Can See Magna From Here

So I like my job so far. I've been eating a few cookies for, you know, product training. And to balance it out, I've been taking the stairs rather than the elevator to the 4th floor. I'm not going to say I'm out of shape, but I can really feel the elevation by the time I reach my cube. Yes that's right. I'm in a cube farm. It will be a couple months before I take over the company and get a plush windowed office with views like these, from our break room. Annie's IKEA opened yesterday to much fanfare, Swedish pride, and freeway bottlenecks. I'll probably see her again in about a month. I'm off to California tomorrow for a long weekend, which I'm really excited about. It's a family reunion / 60th Anniversary party for my grandparents. I believe that puts them in the category of "really old"... but they're still rockin' and I have a blast with my family. Annie can't go because IKEA won't let her leave the meatball line until the entire state is satiated. Happy Memorial Day everyone!

Will Work For Cookies

After months of preparation, not making enough dough, chipping away at HR personnel, and baking in front of managers and presidents in numerous interviews, I have a new job. You'll recognize the name, Mrs. Fields, as a famous cookie company. What you may not know is the company also owns the TCBY, Pretzel Time, Pretzel Maker, and Great American Cookies brands.

I'll be an assistant brand manager for the Mrs. Fields cookie brand, working closely with the franchisees around the country. You may have seen them in your favorite mall or an airport food court. I may work a little bit with their packaged goods division, which are the products you'd see on store shelves in the 'premium cookie' section.

Look for Mrs. Fields locations HERE, and try their White Chunk Macadamia Nut, it's a classic.

To celebrate, I decided to fly home to Michigan for the weekend. I'll be home this Thursday afternoon through Sunday, which happens to be Mother's Day (you're welcome, Mom). Can't wait to see everyone! Annie cannot come unfortunately. Apparently she has some sort of store opening approaching or something. Like that's so important.