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Showing posts from October, 2011

What’s your favorite perfume?

Today, I was walking through a parking lot behind a woman. The wind hit just right, and I was able to detect she was wearing my favorite perfume, Giorgio of Beverly Hills. The sparkling scent hit my olfactory and I smiled to myself, remembering my first encounter with this perfume. Years ago, I was reading Los Angeles magazine. This magazine held everything trendy and elite of this city. Tucked away in the glossy pages was a sample of Giorgio, accompanied with its advertisement.   As I tore open the flap that held the strip of perfume, I was fascinated with picture the work-of-art bottle. The color scheme was sharp and clean—snowy white and sunny yellow stripes.   Even the handwritten font of Giorgio was classy. I rubbed the perfumed strip on my wrist and sniffed. Immediately, I was smitten—the wonderful blend of floral, spice and musk was perfect. It embodied everything ritzy and glamorous—after all its complete name is Giorgio of Beverly Hills! Suddenly, I asked myself, “Self, how ca

August 29, 2011

It seemed surreal to have August 29 marked on my calenda r as going to Channel 7 Midday News, Boise’s NBC affiliate. As the days dwindled down to that fateful Monday, I grew more and more nervous. I couldn’t believe that I was about to do my first television interview about my book!! At 11:30 am my husband, who was responsible for getting me this interview, drove me to the studio.   The day was warm and sunny, wispy clouds against a powder blue sky, my favorite type of weather.   Traffic was moving smoothly and we were well on track to arrive at the designated time for my live interview. I noticed the closer we were getting to our destination, my mouth muscles were tightening. Even as I chit-chatted with Chris, I found it an effort to speak.   This was a bad thing, considering I was on my way to do an interview—and it wasn’t going to be done by hand written notes! I was a little surprised that I was having this harsh nervous reaction. I am a member of Toastmasters International and hav

International Blanket Thief

Yesterday morning as I got out of bed, I gave a little shiver. October was here and the mornings are getting chilly. I noticed my husband quickly grabbing the blankets and pulling them up to his chin. To add to the effect, he let out a huff of contentment. I paused, looking at him in puzzlement—usually I’m the one who’s always complaining of the cold. “I’ve never seen you like this, all bundled up,” I observed only his eyes and forehead were visible under the quilt. “Why are you doing that?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Because I sleep with an international blanket thief!” he announced petulantly. “I was cold all night! You cocooned yourself in all the blankets!” he continued. “I had to go get my old Army poncho liner to cover up!” I thought he was exaggerating, but sure enough, at the foot of the bed was the camouflage poncho liner. How could I possibly be able to wrestle blankets away from him? I thought to myself as I brushed my teeth. He is at least twice my size.   Maybe I get super

More than a bargain

It's amazing how something as mundane as standing in line at the grocery store can offer a life lesson. It happened to me a few weeks ago. I was the fourth person in line at the store and my hands were full. I only went to the store for one thing, peanut butter, so I saw no reason to get a cart. How short sighted of me!   As I shopped, I was reminded that we needed bread to go with the peanut butter. Also, in the same aisle there were tea bags, and I remembered we were getting low on them.   For some reason, tea reminded me of beverages, and I recalled we were almost out of milk. On the way to the back of the store, I saw there was a sale on 12 rolls of bathroom tissue. That was a great buy, so I had to get that. Wow, stores must LOVE customers like me! That’s how I ended up the fourth person in line with 5 items precariously balanced in my arms. The bathroom tissue served as a tray, with the bread, peanut butter and tea bag box sitting on top. The milk I held by the handle. The li