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Showing posts from June, 2011


The most frustrating thing about sending multiple copies of the same thing to a variety of people (or maybe the same people over and over again) is realizing on the second to last email that there is an error in your attachment. A dash where a comma should be. A plural non-possessive that should have been a plural possessive or singular. Or, in this particular case, a missed merge field.

Personalized letters are significantly simpler if you know how to use a spreadsheet to fill in the blanks (and write your letter so none of the blanks need to be adjusted post-merge). However, there is no special technology to prevent you from, say, using a form letter and hand updating data that wasn't on your spreadsheet and missing a merge field in the concluding paragraph so it reads,

"blah, blah, blah {Institution Name} blah blah."

Yup. Definitely feels personal now.

Ugh. Technology, I love and hate you.


**Update, 1 minute later** Definitely posted this to a group blo…

Things to Get Excited About

Parents arriving today and staying for a couple of days.
Relay for Life this weekend.Three SOHO girls coming to Relay this weekend to start earning their service hours and hang out.Andrea's swim meet at the pool one block from my house on Saturday morning.All clean laundry (despite not being put away yet).Clean and prepared house.The most amazing boyfriend ever who put all sorts of stuff in the attic, changed the light bulbs, ran errands, dropped off Andrea's furniture twice yesterday, and managed to keep me going until 11 last night so I wouldn't be scrambling this morning.Said boyfriend just existing. Oh, and being able to use any type of possessive when referring to him, like "MY boyfriend."Work being relatively quiet this week to help mask the fact that my brain has been too busy to be 100% focused. (Still let's me be productive on a slow week, but would be disastrous on a busy week.)Fabulous weather.Blackberries coming off my thornless bush in heaping bow…

A Note on Time

It goes by too fast when you're having fun.
It goes by too slowly when you're not.
It can be counted in positions, on clocks, through years, and many other ways.
People remember time passed in different ways.

One way time can be remembered is apparently in files. Ancient, non-existent files.

May I give you a hint, dearest wisher of time past: if it happened here when I was in the first grade I do not remember it; as I was living in Florida at that time and learning how to write in complete sentences. Therefore, if you cannot remember any details except, "It happened" and there are no records to indicate said happening, I cannot, in any reliable way, make a list of it for you.

But thanks for asking. Wasting my time was definitely on today's to-do list.

It's Over

My mentee's room renovation is over. I've been thinking about this since I heard about SOHO last August, and it is finally finished. (If we're not friends on Facebook, let me know and I'll send you a link to the photos.)

So my question is, why can I not stop thinking about it? Why do I still feel like I'm missing something?

I wish I had Charles Xavier's telepathy. Maybe then I could ease my mind and just enjoy the finished product.