The Contest

~~~~UPDATE!~~~~
Well, it turns out that, in spite of my best efforts at a get-out-the-vote drive, I have failed to win 1st or 2nd place... Ahh, well. That's what happens when you don't find out about a contest until a week before it's ended and don't get out a "PLEASE VOTE" plea until 2 1/2 DAYS before it's ended.  Thanks to everyone who voted and tried to help me win. I promise that I'll make sure there's plenty of vote time next contest I enter!



Whelp! I've done it. I entered some of my craftiness in a contest (re-)designing lanyards (you know, those things folks - mostly dr's and nurses - wear around their necks with an i.d. tag on the end?).  I'm not sure how it's going to go since I only submitted it tonight and the voting closes Friday morning. Long story short, I procrastinated about taking the photos until last night, then worked for nearly 30 minutes trying to get the site to accept them. I tho't it had, but when I checked with them this morning, they informed me they hadn't received anything and if it had gone through, I would have been redirected to a "Thank You For Your Submission" page. Which I wasn't. Which meant I had to resubmit tonight. THIS time I got the thank you page... which then informed me it might take 2 business days for my picture to even show up. Which means it might not be there until Thursday. The day beFORE the voting closes.

Lovely.

(sigh)

Well, God's in control, even of silly contests and submitting things on the computer, so I'm not going to worry or be upset. Anyway, here's the pics of what I entered;

Full View

Detail Close Up

  

So, if you'd like to go vote, the voting will be open until Friday the 13th at 11:59am (so the rules say) and here's the link:

 http://www.idwholesaler.com/lanyard-design-contest/

(UP DATE: the photos are up on the site as of today, 5/11, so voting is available. You can only vote once per day, per computer... so... y'know... if you have access to computers with different ISP addresses... ~heee~)

Her Hero ~ Short Story Practice

I know, I know, it's been since December that I've done anything on either of my blogs. Part of that is business, part of that is there's a lot I could write about and I'm not sure I should (I'd go off like a Tomahawk missile on most of it!) and part of it is pure laziness. (but I don't waaaaanna write anything!) So, what I've decided is two-fold... today's will be lazy. This is a short story I wrote some time ago as practice. Part of this is getting me off my... tushie... to exercise my creativity.  This blog is dedicated to hobbies and creativeness, after all!  Those of you who read my blog(s) know I'm a poet (and, according to one source, something of an apologist... Look it up, I had to!) and I'm not half bad at getting my point across. Okay... now it's time to work the Creative Genius side of my brain!  I've set myself a goal of writing 10 short stories all under the limit of 1,000 words.  This one doesn't count toward the goal since, as already stated, it's one I wrote some time back (tho' it is less than 1,000 words!).  We'll see how well this goes, eh?
Enjoy

HER HERO

"Why can't I ever have a real adventure or meet a dashing hero?" Jill exclaimed.

"Gee, thanks a lot!" retorted Scott, Jill's best friend since grade school. He followed her gaze to the poster in the bookstore window, promoting the newest romance novel, and snorted.

"That is totally unrealistic!" he gestured at the cover art. "No fireman in his right mind would be that deep in flames without his helmet and oxygen!"

"There speaks the safety-conscious captain of Station 10." Jill rolled her eyes. "It's just art, Scott."

"It's unrealistic!" he insisted. "And it creates a false impression of heroism for gullible females."

"Are you saying I'm gullible?" Jill blinked, confused by Scott's irritation. He was always even tempered and easy going to the point of absurd. Whenever she wanted to go on an adventure, he was usually there to make sure she did things as safely as possible and didn't hurt herself. She teased him mercilessly about his safety issues telling him that he'd be staid, boring and unadventurous without her. He'd grin that lazy, easy going grin of his and reply that she was enough adventure for both of them.

"Well, are you?" she demanded when he didn't answer right away.

Scott's hazel eyes darkened to moss green as he stared at her a long moment before he shook his dark head and rose. "No, but you have unrealistic expectations about the guy you think you're looking for. I have to get back to work. Thanks for the coffee, Jill."

                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jill avoided Scott for a week, which wasn't hard to do since he didn't seek her out, either. He didn't even call to make sure the brief storm the city experienced hadn't knocked out her power and he always checked on her after a storm.

By the end of the week Jill was miserable and lonely. Hurt from Scott's comments combined with the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, he was right made her want to cry. They'd been friends forever. She'd always shared her thoughts and dreams with him and he'd always been there to support and encourage her. Now he wasn't. It felt as if a part of her had withered.
 
Back in her favorite bookstore Jill sank down onto one of several strategically placed couches and looked at the book she clutched. "Out Of The Flames", the book whose poster she'd been admiring a week ago, was on the best seller list this week. Staring at the cover art that Scott had objected to Jill couldn't bring herself to open the book. The art was ridiculous from a firefighter's perspective and, yes, Scott would know.

As she sat staring at the cover art, wishing she knew how to bridge the gap between her and Scott, Jill grew sleepy. Deciding she was well enough hidden from the casual browser she pulled her legs up beside her, laid her head on her arm and closed her eyes. Moments later, the book she'd held slipped from her fingers.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"C'mon, Jill, you have to wake up!"

Scott's voice sounded muffled in Jill's ears and she wondered if she were dreaming. She took a deep breath and started coughing. Suddenly, strong arms lifted her and she was carried into sunshine and chaos. Someone put an oxygen mask over her face even as she felt cold metal under her backside.

Blinking as she continued coughing, she found a worried Scott, in full fire fighting gear, kneeling in front of where she sat on the ambulance bumper.

"What -?" she gasped and coughed again.

Scott guided the oxygen mask back over her nose even as he answered. "Gas leak. The store owner called it in. I knew you had to be inside because I saw your car and not you. No more scaring me for at least a month, okay?"

Not too excited about starting another coughing fit Jill simply nodded. Then Scott handed her a book. The book. "You... might want this. It was on the floor next to you."

Pulling away the oxygen mask she shook her head. "No, I don't. It creates unrealistic expectations. I like the real thing so much more."

Scott's eyes lit up and a hopeful smile tilted his lips. "Are you sure? I've been told I'm staid, boring and unadventurous."

With a combined laugh-cough Jill stroked his cheek. "Whoever told you that was an idiot. Besides, I happen to know for a fact that I'm enough adventure for both of us."

© Copyright 2007 Pam Sears (UN: condorsfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Hyper-Holidays

Ahhh, the holidays. A time to remember others, to be thankful for what we have and to promote peace and love for our fellow man.


Yee-ah, right!

If all of that is the object of the holidays, can someone explain, please, the "Day After"?  You know, the "Day After" is when every store in the entire world suddenly must have a sale of gi-normous proportions. A One-Day-Only, 10-50% off sale with an extra 20% off that if you have the coupon in the flyer from your local paper.

The same paper your neighbor stole because she's too cheap to buy her own so she hid in your bushes and waited 'til the paper boy let fly then, making a dive Greg Loughainis would've been proud of, she snatched it from mid-air and scuttled back to her house, slamming her door and thereby robbing you of that extra 20% off the 50% off sale!

Yep, love for our fellow man just permeates the air.

Personally, I blame the department stores.  They are so bent on getting more sales than their rivals that they've turned the holidays into a huge competition.  A rather fierce one, at that. Why, just the other day in our mall, as I was resting my weary, sale-battered body, I witnessed a horrific sight.

A man who had obviously finished his shopping early was innocently walking past a JC Penney store when, like one of those trap-door spiders you see on the Discovery Channel, a store worker leapt from behind a rack of 10% off Christmas sweaters. Knocking the poor, confused man down, she proceeded to drag her stunned victim toward a 75% off Summer-wear rack. The mans' terrified wails for help echoed from the walls, unheeded by the dedicated Safari Bargain Hunters around him.

Now, I ask you, is there a more horrendous sight than that of a man who's gotten all his shopping done...early!?

As for the stores, they push the holidays earlier every year, urging the consumer to buy now, hinting that waiting will not only be detrimental to the pocket book but that (horrors) there might not be anything left to purchase at some later date. A terrifying thought that can bring the strongest woman to her knees.

Now, I don't mind a little hard selling, it's the basis of free commerce. I do tend to get a little testy, though, when they're promoting Thanksgiving and Christmas at Easter time. I suppose it is easier to just leave the decorations up year round. I mean, all that fuss to take them down and pack them carefully away when they're going right back up in only three months? Really!

And what about us? Some of you people start stringing lights and setting out Santa, Frosty and Nativities almost before Halloween. If the Christmas tree were available, you would have it up November 1st. As it is, the tree gets left up 'til it's so dry that the Fire Department declares your living room a national fire hazard and brings in a back hoe to dig a fire-break around your home.

And, I'm sorry, but people who leave Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations up in their yards until July need to be smacked and forced to stand on their front lawns flapping and hooting like owls (well, the police tend to frown on tar-n-feathering).

I suppose my point of view regarding the holidays is slightly warped, but one can only take so many repeats of Burl Ives singing "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas" before turning psychotic. I think that, this year, humanity should slow down, take a deep breath and attempt to focus on what the holidays are really all about.

Uh... does anyone remember what that is?

© Copyright 2003 Pam Sears (UN: condorsfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Stop The Madness, Part II

So, I went and got my hair cut a few weeks ago, along with a deep moisturizing treatment.  My hair dresser, a younger woman, had already been told I was planning to grow my gray out. I was pretty sure she was going to try to talk me out of it when I got there.  I was right.  But, I didn't really give her the chance.  Knowing she's a good sport and has a really sweet and helpful personality, I simply told her "The decision's already been made. I'm going to grow out my gray.  You only get to be supportive about it."  She laughed and agreed (and later told me she loved my "you have to be supportive" speech).  So, she washed my hair first, took a good hunk off the ends to get rid of the dead parts, then put a hair mask by Enjoy Hair Care on my hair and stuck me under the dryer.

Now, I bought a book called "Going Gray, Looking Great" by Diana Jewell and it's got all sorts of wonderful tips and suggestions for your hair, your skin, your clothes, your makeup.... everything that's needed for a woman with a full head of silver.  I had shown it to my hair dresser, but was reading it as I waited for my hair mask treatment to finish.  When it was done and I was back in her chair she said "Oh! My friend wanted to see your book. This is the book I was telling you about!(to her friend/co-worker)" and pointed to my GGLG book. Asking permission, her friend picked it up and thumbed through it to the part where it talks about what hair dressers can do to assist silver ladies in keeping the shine and good look to their hair.  Apparently these two had already had a few Silvers come in and ask for this sort of treatment but they neither of them had any idea what to do.  Well, now they do!  They can buy this WONderful book and study what the Minardi's of Minardi Hair Salon in New York have to teach them!  The girls were quite excited by this (and so was I since MY hair is on it's way to silver.... I hope it's silver!)

Anyway, I love my new cut but I'm a little bummed because with the weight being off the ends, my hair has "lifted" a bit and the new-growth silver is once more in hiding.  But, that's okay. My hair dresser and I have agreed to keep it this length and I'll be getting a deep moisturizing treatment about once a month (or so... as finances allow) to keep it healthy while it transitions to silver.  Now that I know she's in my corner, and willing to learn all she can to keep it looking it's silvery best, I'm secure and happy to keep going to  her.  It's always best to have a hair dresser you can trust who also WANTS to learn new hair therapy and treatments!

 Anyway, I've taken so long to update my blog (sorry, folks!) that my hair's grown and it's time for another trim. I'm thinking of going even shorter this time, we'll see what my hairstylist says. I'll try to update the blog sooner, this time. Especially because my silver/gray/pewter/mist(?which?) is starting to show more!  Yes, it can actually be seen! Woo HOO!
(more to come!)

Perfect Imperfections

My friend, Scasmflop, came to me a little while back and asked me to employ my creative jewelry making abilities to help her with a gift for some new friends she was going to meet for the first time.  You see, they were a group of mothers who had something in common, a difficulty not many women (or men) are called upon to deal with.  They're all parents to a child with Spina Bifida and they've been supporting one another on-line for ..... well  .... quite a while now.  They were meeting for the first time since their separate yet similar journeys began and Scasmflop wanted to make it as special and meaningful as possible.

And that's where I came in.  She told me she wanted a necklace that would represent Spina Bifida, with a Remembrance Ribbon as a dangle attached.  As if God leaned over and whispered in my ear, the name for the necklaces came to mind... Perfect Imperfections.

These women are raising children gifted to them by God, yet they are children a number of people in the world would see as useless or not worth the effort it will take to give them a good life.  During Hitler's reign, these children would have been killed at birth and their mothers told they were stillborn or had died of complications.  They were imperfect humans.  But, that's not how God sees them and He has given these gifts to parents who see what God does. 

The necklaces were long chains with yellow agates to represent the Remembrance Ribbon for Spina Bifida, except for the main bead.  It was red with a discolored stripe through it....  the "Imperfection", if you will.  The ribbon dangles from the end of a bent wire that goes across the face of the stone, representative of the difficulties of their journey through life.  I'm told the ladies loved them, but judge for yourselves!





I did one other thing, I wrote a couple things to go with these necklaces. One, Scasmflop knows about, the other she doesn't.  They're both called "Perfect Imperfections".  Here's the one she knows:

PERFECT IMPERFECTIONS

Man says "They're broken, throw them away."
God says "I can use them, give them to me."
Man says "What can they do? They're useless."
God says "What can't they do? I will use them!"
Man says "Don't bother, they're imperfect!"
God says "for my strength is made perfect in [their imperfections]."
   "Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my [imperfections], that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
II Corinthians 12:9

.....  and this is the one Scasmflop doesn't know about, but I hope she'll still like:

Perfect Imperfections

God gave me a gift from His mercy and grace,
A new life to add to this great human race.

But to this great gift He added a string
And when I was told I tho't "What can it mean?

"Why did God ask you this burden to bear?
And why did He think I could handle your care?"

So heavy my heart, so frightened my mind,
The way out of fear I just couldn't find.

For Satan would whisper "Your failure is set.
"The needs of your child will never be met."

I cried out to God for His great healing touch.
"Let my child be whole, I'm not asking too much."

I felt my God's love as He cradled my heart
And He told me my child, in His plan, had a part.

His plan for my child means he comes with a flaw
But others to God, with his life, he will draw.

It's not sin in my life or God's lack of love
That caused imperfection in my gift from above.

God's strength is made great in our weakness of life.
Imperfections made perfect when backed by His might.

He can use for His glory the imperfect and flawed.
All it takes is surrender to the mercy of God.


We are all imperfect sinners in God's sight. Only by His mercy, and acceptance of the Gift of His Son, are we made Perfect, indeed.

Stop The Madness

Okay... I have faced a choice, reached that fork in the road, stood at the edge of that cliff and wondered if I should step off into the unknown....

No, I'm not talking about love.  I have made.... a decision!

I am going to stop coloring my hair, let it grow, and see what God and genetics have bequeathed me!  Yes, my dears, I am growing gray!

Oh, I can hear you now, I've heard much the same already from my mother and Bunso...  "It'll make you look old if you go gray!"  "You're already fair skinned, this'll just make you look more washed out!"  "You won't like it! You'll be begging your hair stylist for an appointment before you grow two inches!"  "You'll never get a guy to look at you twice if you look all gray and old!"

Well, let me answer these attempts to make me "see the light": 1) no, I don't believe it will make me look old, OR washed out. Just because I choose to let my gray/silver/pewter (?) grow out is no guarantee I'll look old.  I found  a web-site where women who have chosen to eschew dye and "go natural" call themselves "Silver Sisters" and encourage one another to explore their natural beauty.  There are tips and ideas for transitioning from color/dyed hair to natural gray and even suggestions for make up and how to keep those lucious locks lush! If you're curious, it's called "Going Gray Looking Great" and you can find it at http://www.goinggraylookinggreat.com/ where you'll find shots of women who are simply beautiful, and even more youthful looking, once they've grown in the gray.

2) I may not like it, but I won't know until I try.  If it just so happens that I don't, my hair dresser has the colors she's used to keep me a red head written down and can whip up a new batch of the Pamela Special in no time flat. The point is, I'm going to do something I happen to see as fun!  I'm going to play with my hair in a new way.  Who knows?  I may have more fun than I can handle, which leads me to - -

3)  So what if I don't get a second look from a guy just because my hair is gray?  I don't get second looks now so why should that "threat" worry me?  You all know from a previous post that I've pretty much come to believe God wants me single (and I believe it's because there isn't a man alive who could handle me, too!) so what do I care if the only reason he looks again is because of the "skunk stripe" of new, silver growth and he can't decide whether to laugh or wait til I'm out of range? (he'd better wait... I may not care if others like it, but I'll still put a hurt on him for laughing!)

So, why am I telling you this?  Well, the GGLG site wants all their newbie grayers to post pics of themselves as they transition.  I don't know if y'all care as much as they do, but I tho't I'd share the journey with you, too.  So, I'll post pics and updates on here, from time to time, to let you know how it's going and whether or not I give up and give in to the dye chair once more. (Mom and Bunso are really hoping I give in... Bunso doesn't like gray hair - she's the "washed out" culprit - and Mom says she's not ready for a gray haired daughter) 

SO!  Here are the beginning photos (hard to take your own pic in your bathroom, forgive the poor job!)  I haven't had any color since (I think) about May.....

Okay, hard to see, but there's a fine line of gray showing in the 1st picture around the hair line (it IS lighter than the rest), you can see the beginning of the "Skunk Line" in the part of the 2nd picture and there are a LOT of silver strands under all that red in the 3rd shot.  Give it a few more weeks, that Skunk Stripe'll be HUGE! (heheheheeheee)

How To End Up Under The Knife

For those of my Facebook friends and followers who are jealous of my recent surgical odessy, I am now going to post my suggestions for how to put yourself in a position to end up in a Surgical Suite and under the doctor's knife.  Ready?  Here we go:

How To Require Surgery:

1. Wake up with what you assume is heartburn one Saturday morning (this is important, it must be a Saturday), take over-the-counter generic antacids, ignore any ensuing problems the rest of the day
2. Have severe "heartburn" late at night, try taking more antacids followed by Alka-seltzer, then Advil. Have no further symptoms or problems for a week.
3. Suffer more "heartburn" the following Saturday, take more over-the-counter generic antacids. Tell your sister that, if it happens the following Saturday, you're calling your doctor.
4. Late that night (any time after midnight is optimal) skip the Alka-seltzer and go straight to the Advil.  Spend the night sitting at a 45 degree angle in your recliner because it's too uncomfortable to lay flat - getting less than a couple hours of sleep is best at this point.
5. Have a good day the following day, no pain, no need for antacids of any kind until late evening.
6. Once again, after midnight, have another serious problem with "heartburn" and spend the night in the recliner.
7. Call your doctor's office for an appointment first thing the next morning and find out you likely have gall stones (if it's not constipation or gas.... it won't be)
8. Get an ultrasound and be told that you have a "sludgy" gallbladder (this means they cannot see for certain if you have gall stones - they will still be certain that you do), it will need to come out.
9. That Friday, throw your doctor for a complete loop by going off schedule and have severe pain in the general area of the gallbladder. 
10. Go to the Urgent Care to have it checked.  After having a shot to reduce the pain (an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10 is best for this type of episode) return home with the doctor's diagnosis of pancreatitis (resulting from the sludgy gallbladder) and a prescription for Vicoden (you will learn to love this drug!)
11. Walk - and eat - gingerly for the rest of the week until the doctors schedule you for (not quite emergency) surgery for that Friday.
12. Go to the hospital for your scheduled surgery (hope you don't get a nurse who admits she's not really a prep nurse and needs to "read a book" before continuing to get you ready for your surgery and who KNOWS HOW TO PROPERLY INSERT AN I.V., .... this does not usually include keeping your fist clenched!)
13. Have the anasthesiologist and the O.R. nurse enter, proclaiming it's "Margarita Time!", and shoot you up with whatever cocktail they've mixed especially for you (you may remember the ensuing teasing and/or ride into the O.R., but this is doubtful.... do not expect to)
14. Slowly become aware of someone insistently calling your name and telling you that you have to wake up now.  This is not a bad experience, but if you're slow to wake up in a normal situation, it's even more difficult at this particular time. The nurses are not understanding of this.  They will continue to insist that you must wake up.  You will eventually oblige just to get them to quit harrassing you.
15. Moving very slowly, go home to recover.  Expect some discomfort from either the surgery or the post-operative effects of the CO2 they will pump into you at the time of the surgery.  Of course, if you've already suffered the effects of pancreatitis mentioned earlier, any effects from the CO2 will be less than negligable unless your are a bigger chicken-sissy-la-la-baby-girlie-man-nerd about pain than I am.  Expect to be fussed over for no more than a few days. After that, it gets tedious for the fussers, especially if they are constantly having to put your recliner down, or pull it up, or help you out of the chair, or into the chair, or buying you jello (since you shouldn't eat much more than bland food for several days) or.... well, you get the idea...

Following these instructions will ensure you your own trip to the doctor followed by a quick trip to the O.R. and the locally recommended surgeon after which you may lounge about in your p.j.s and play the sympathy card for as long as you can get away with it. Just be sure to follow any post operative care instructions your doctor gave you.
Failure to stick to your doctor's orders may earn you a second trip to the O.R.  While that didn't happen to me (I behaved!) a 2nd trip sounds like even less fun than the 1st.  And I doubt your family members will be as sympathetic and/or helpful as the first time around. 
Remember, this is a cow you can only milk once.