Thank You and Happy Birthday

I have adopted every person I know as a personal secretary. Traci Monson happens to be my Executive Assistant and for the last 10 years has kept record of most of my personal engagements. She reminds me of dates, times and most importantly memorizes directions to venues and passes them on to me as I am en route.

(Pictured are myself and Traci. This is in Boston where she of course, made all travel arrangements, and paid for my ticket. What?! I didn't have a job at the time)

Since I am old-er I have trained myself to memorize information regarding soirees to a close degree of accuracy. I almost always get the date correct, arrive within plus or minus 30 minutes to start time and can recall the location within a three block radius. Therefore, I have needed Traci's help less and less as the years have passed but occasionally am saved by her incomprehensible ability to plan, organize and regurgitate data that, I swear, was stolen from my hand. I hope to one day return the gesture she has so kindly offered to me a million times.

Sometimes I am invited to a function by a social circle that has not the privilege of knowing Traci. And I, finding myself in need of logistical info, wonder if she still might know where I am supposed to be. I am in such a situation tonight. Knowing that even this Super Woman does not know the answer, I turn to other sources, like the focal point of this evening. IT happens to be her birthday, and is just as unreliable as myself.

(Pictured below is Stephanie Doyle in a fantastic attempt to snowboard)

(This is what she looks like, with a helmet on)

I have called her twice and sent a text message (5 minutes before the party is to start) and still no response. What?! Am I left to getting on-line and finding the original invitation?! Work?! THEN! The phone rings, lo and behold, the caller ID reads "Steph Doyle" and I answer with excitement,

*"Birthday Girl?! What is wrong with you? You know I need help getting to your place?"

*This is not the birthday girl, it's Aly!"

The conversation went on but I got stuck in the humorous thoughts that a) Steph is just like me and has someone else dealing with the awful boringness of flat information and b) Once again, I am saved from my annoying habit of zero preparation.

Each of you at one point has aided, or enabled, me in such a situation. I thank you.

(Among many other talents, Steph is also an artist, and felt this represented the lonliness that metals must feel)

Aaaaaahhh!!! (said with much frustration)

I'm going to DIE if I don't find something insane to do...that won't get me killed or thrown in jail.

I think it comes from repression. Everything I have an impulsive urge to do, is not accepted by society. By not acting out I have the sensation behind my eyeballs that they are going to pop out.

Here is what I would do if no consequences were involved:

I would rip up.....ooooh....lots of stuff (stimulus bill included)

I would follow Eli's lead and smack people in the face (nobody in particular)

I would quit my job. Not answer my phone. And burn Facebook.

I would be on an airplane to Phoenix

I would adopt a dog and buy half a cow

I would definitely be homeless and know which clothes I would take on my back (can anyone guess?)

I would break the news to people who think they are funny, but aren't.

Until I have the guts, I guess I will just go to the gym and to Phoenix...those are do-able.

Valentine Treat

This is my father, Gary Kurt Lassen. Today during my Zumba class (a crazy-latin-dancing-hip-shaking-body-sweating-fiesta at 24 hour fitness) This amazing fella called me and asked if he could take me to lunch for Valentine's Day. What a LOVELY surprise. A Valentine for me? Plus he said we could go to a "nice" lunch like the kind at Market Street. Anyway, Gary knocked on my door and walked in with red gorgeous roses! I haven't been given roses since I took advantage of a guy who liked me when he asked, "What do you want for your birthday?"

I forgot how happy flowers make me feel and halibut. I thought it was a perfect way to spend the lunch hour, what more could I want? And then he offered to chase those well spent calories with frozen yogurt from the Yogurt Stop. Wow. Content. Full.

I don't need alot. I rarely ask for or demand things. I get by with what I have. And I'm satisfied. But on occasion someone teaches me a lesson with their unnecessary demonstration of service and my reaction of love and gratitude surprise me as I realize those "unnecessary" gestures add an element to life that really is necessary!

Dad, you totally made me feel special today. I enjoyed every second we had and I will always remember today. I love you. Thank you! I'm a very lucky daughter.