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Thanks Geico: Laughing Keeps the Crazy at Bay

12 Apr

I know this to be true from the very fact that I live “crazy” on a daily basis and have to giggle to keep from doing something that will have me ended up in bright orange.

Apparently, the people around me know this to be equally as true as well.  Why else would a former employee, out of the blue send me this text:

Geico

And wouldn’t you know it, once I viewed the above referenced video link from the brilliant Geico/Pillsbury Tag-Team marketing initiative, the giggles became laughter-turned-chortles and I could not help but grin like the village idiot for much of the day after that (who knew that Animated Crescent Rolls Dough and Car Insurance made a great pair?).

So for those of you with hectic schedules, nutty cohorts, insane associates or ridiculous workloads, take a second to enjoy this Friday Funny; I certainly did.

 

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The Evolution and Revolution of the First Lady

25 Feb

As one of the commenters at the end of this video so eloquently pointed out; “Even if you don’t like Michelle Obama, you kinda do like Michelle Obama.”

In a recent visit to Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, the FLOTUS unveiled some pretty hot 2013 moves in honor of her Lets Move Campaign, dubbed, “The Evolution of Mom Dancing”.  And while it does look as though Lady O is dropping it low to do The Bump with Sarah Palin, Conservatives needn’t fret; tis only a lovely Jimmy Fallon in (strikingly believable) soccer mom drag.

Regardless however of what your political proclivities are, it appears that time and time again, Mrs. Obama continues to live up to the title of coolest First Lady on the planet. Ever.  I mean really, who among us can imagine Grace Coolidge doing the Charleston or Barbara Bush serving up the Cabbage Patch?

But even as a pop-culture icon, Michelle Obama has found a way to keep her finger on the pulse of popular culture in such a way that 1) her image as a political figure is able to resonate with the masses and most importantly 2) she has been able to call to and keep  attention on her platform in a way that might not have received much traction otherwise if she were not so…well, cool.  Call it what you will, but it’s that “real” and “attainable” air that has so many of us falling a little harder for her every time we see her.

Doing Our Part: Support Hurricane Sandy Relief Efforts

5 Nov

Hello Pack Faithful!  It seems like ages since real life has afforded me the opportunity to take time to sit and indulge in what has always been for me, the pleasure of sharing my thoughts, concerns and general musings with each of you, but I honestly had to make the time to talk with you guys about Hurricane Sandy.

Let me first say that for any of you who have been affected, I am praying for your peace of mind and that you find swift relief and recovery in your circumstances.  For me, although I can say how blessed I am to have heard from so many of my family and friends up and down the East Coast who survived through Super Storm Sandy last week with only minimal damage and a few days’ inconvenience as it related to power outages, food shortages and the like, I am still wholly mortified by the images that I continue to see from as far south as The Outer Banks to the heavily hit northeast region of the New York/Tri-State area.  It is for that reason that I wanted to use this platform to encourage each of you to do something.

While so many of us don’t have the necessary training or resources to assist in clean-up efforts in areas like Ground Zero or the New Jersey Shore or across the Mid-Atlantic, it is good to know that we are not helpless.  If like me, you find that the daily news stories of damage assessments, the rising death tolls or coverage of images like the ones below tend to leave you in a state of unrest, then please donate to The American Red Cross on behalf of the victims of Sandy.

As a nation, lets prove this November that a contentious election is not the only time we can mobilize in full force for a worthy cause.

I’m Not Crazy, I Just Work A Lot!

11 Jun

For those of you who’ve been missing my musings and social commentary over the past few months (or who have just been robbed of the opportunity as of late to tell me what an opinionated jerk that I am), let me just say firstly, that I am truly sorry for turning this mini-hiatus from the blog into an indefinite sabbatical.

The truth is that with my recent promotion at work, much of what I do on my 9 to 5 (who, am I kidding; it’s more like my 8 to 7) overlaps into my “me” time, my home life and what little time I had originally carved out for daily blogging activities in the first place.  But if I am honest, I really have been missing the decompressing, creativity and general medium by which to express myself when I am not blogging, and if nothing else, what this time away has revealed to me is that writing combats the crazy!

So with that, while I cannot yet promise to pick up a daily writing regime at this time, I am committing to knocking down the cobwebs and making a concerted effort to compose a few posts each week.  This should serve to not only satisfy you, my loyal readers, but to also stave off the need for both my regular Calgon appointment and the looming white jacket.

The Measure of a Man

24 Apr

Okay, really guys?  Stop blinking rapidly and refreshing the webpage!  It’s really me!  I know that my posts for 2012 have been few and FAAAAAAARRRR between, but seeing as how we’ve discussed my various power moves as of late (promotion, anyone?), I trust that you all understand.

What’s funny is,  I’ve been a little skeptical lately as to how I would find time to get back into blogging, and if I would still have anything poignant to say, but truth be told, I’d forgotten how cathartic this practice is on a daily basis, so I imagine that I will be doing better to make time!

At any rate, with my new responsibilities and the annihilation of anything that even remotely resembles a structured daily schedule, it hasn’t only been me who’s had to adjust.  While my honey and the big Pack Kids have been supportive (who knew that after a thankless 10-hour work day, “the twins” would have warmed up left overs for themselves and run a load of dirty dishes without being asked to do so…the fact that the clean ones from the morning were still in the dishwasher is neither here nor there…), it’s been The Baby Child who’s antics have let me know how truly missed I’ve been between 8 and 6.  Whether it’s sitting up under me until bedtime, requiring that we act out the latest Dragonball Z fusion fight stances or helping me to sort his fruit juice splattered laundry, once I’ve crossed the threshold, the kid is basically not letting me out of his sight until bedtime.

The other night after I’d made him a fruit salad, The Baby Child insisted that he sit in my lap and share his fare with me.  This of course entailed serving each other all “Coming to America” style, sans the large ostrich feather fans and handmaidens.  When The Honey got home, it was all he could do not to burst into laughter.  Instead, he popped a grape and told The Baby Child that it was his job to feed me fruit and for me to sit in his lap because he was my man.  The Honey proceeded to shake his head at me, chuckle and change out of his work attire into his sweats.

After our palettes were thoroughly satiated, I convinced The Baby Child of what great quality time he could spend with me before bed by helping me to sort some white laundry (don’t judge me).  After getting half of the clothes in the washing machine, I caught sight of him intently inspecting, then snatching up a shirt and gleefully running up to his room.  Days later when I got home from work, The Baby Child greeted me at the door with kisses, an inquiry into what was for dinner and fully dressed in his “good clothes” from head to toe, but with that missing white undershirt billowing over his own toddler wear.  Taking the bait, I asked him why in the world he was wearing his father’s beater.

“Because mommy, I’m a MAN and I’m gonna get all the girlfriends.”

Uh, whaaat?

So, clearly I am not sure at what point my baby opted not to fill his father’s shoes but instead his undershirt, and in doing so, equated that with being “a man”; or even in being “a man”, that meant being imparted with girlfriends, but it is apparent that although this child is extra times ten, I must say, at least he has modeled his mini-manly self after a pretty wonderful prototype.

Now, if I could just get them both to put the seat down!

Playing Catch-up!

30 Mar

Have you ever just awaken one day, feeling as though you’ve shaken yourself loose from an alternate reality and had to ponder on how exactly you got to where you were?

Like, when did this happen?

Or, how did I miss that?

And, in my quest to do it all, have I really been accomplishing anything at all?

Unfortunately, that has sort of been my tale of woe over the past three months.  While I have been forced to be highly productive in many areas relating to my life and career, I feel as though I have been missing so many of the little things that, in en masse, are truly what make my life whole.

For instance, my inability to attend my ladies book club meetings; you have no idea how difficult describing Katniss and Gale and Peeta’s quasi-love triangle across three novels to my honey (who only wants to see the movie and couldn’t care less about the precise descriptors of Panem or the almost lyrical narrative of a country on the brink) has been.  Or having to regretfully decline an offer to coach students at my local track club because my schedule simply won’t allow it.  Or how about being shocked at learning something entire new and unexpected about my kids?

Eating Dinner with my Irish twins last night, I was doing a little raving over my spaghetti sauce loaded with grilled and sliced kielbasa (not vanity, just self-appreciation).  When I asked The Big Boy and Girl what they thought of their dinner, my son in no uncertain terms told me that he did not like my proffered meal.  After I got over my initial shock and hurt feelings, I asked him since when could he not abide by my cooking?  It was then that my daughter busted out laughing and said, “since he became a vegan!”

Blame it on The Ex-Ex-Ex-Ex-Ex-Ex-ecutive Training!

21 Feb

Please believe me when I tell you that by now, I had planned to have a plethora of different topics, interests and general opinions penned to The Pack for 2012, but you know what they say about our plans and God’s funny bone (oh you don’t?  Well basically, When WE make plans, GOD laughs…and likely calls over Jesus, St. Paul, Mother Teresa and MLK, Jr. to watch our sitcom-ic lives unfold over a bucket over heavenly popped corn).

The simple truth is that while announcement meetings and org charts have not been official rolled out, I’ve been working tireless within the last couple of months with my management team to embody a more executive role at work.  And as exciting as this potential opportunity appears to be, I can say that I miss the notion of coming home (when there is still daylight) and decompressing with you all through my blog posts.

But hey, until this whole “writing gig” takes off and affords me the independently wealthy status to be able to work for myself (and own a bell wearing, tights donning Elizabethan court minstrel…I’ve always wanted a minstrel), then the majority of my no-longer-free-time won’t be spent perfecting my subject-verb agreement but will instead be about me being the chick that is honing her skills in and out of the boardroom!

Let us pray….

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