Some people have asked me why I don’t have comments enabled on this blog. Here is the thing. I am actually quite insecure, even through all my bravado. I feel like if someone has something nice to say, they will bother to email me… otherwise who cares what they say cause they are just freaking idiots, right? Um, err, I mean, constructive critisicm is always good to hear too.
I was just looking at my Netflix queue and chuckling to myself… it seems that so often, we have completely opposite opinions of movies than our best friends, Jeff & Danielle. (Unless it’s a chick flick – then Danielle and I are usually on the same page.) It’s neither good or bad, just kind of funny – that the two people we would love to be stranded on an island with for the rest of eternity would hate the movies we brought to the island with us.
However, if we are talking dessert… then Jeff and I were made for each other. We both would pick some form of creamy cake with berries on it or pie over chocolate any day of the week. And of course, Bryan and Danielle would dive into that chocolate with NO FEAR.
Opening a package from Old Navy… trying on new jeans… jeans fitting… and then remembering how, just this summer those same jeans would have been two sizes larger.
Met with a new client this afternoon and was given two small web sites to build for them over the next two months. What is significant is: 1) they are a very prestigious place to put on my client list and more importantly, 2) they found my company through word of mouth. I am so proud when that happens.
My therapist was telling me today that she was reading a recent study that confirmed what we all knew. Men are the daredevils and women are the snugglers.
She said that in childrearing, men generally did better at the exploration tasks (as in, letting them fly across playground equipment at frightening speeds) and women were better at nurturing tasks (as in, giving oodles of hugs and kisses when they have an owie).
We totally proved this theory in our house this weekend. My son, who will 99% of the time pick Dad over me for ANYTHING, wanted me all weekend while he was sick.
Am I wrong if I admit I enjoyed it?
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