In just a few hours I’ll be driving to Lincoln to assist the Cox production crew in broadcasting the Husker baseball game against Oklahoma at Haymarket Park.
My creative coworkers tell me I’ll need to keep track of what spots run and those that don’t from inside our truck. It’ll be my first foray in TV production since my days at KMTV as a minimum-wage-paid intern in college.
Wish me well.
I need just $75 to reach my $100 goal for this year’s Relay for Life.
Please consider donating to this worthwhile cause.
Remember some of these classic TV ads for Apple Computer and its many wonderful products?
{Many thanks to Tom Becka for sending me this Web link.}
If you aint no punk holla We Want Prenup
WE WANT PRENUP! Yeaah
It’s something that you need to have
Cause when she leave yo ass she gone leave with half
Your results:
You are Supergirl
|
Lean, muscular and feminine. Honest and a defender of the innocent. |
On my way to work yesterday, I decided to change things up a bit by stopping at Crane Coffee for a latte, as opposed to my regular Starbucks stomping ground.
The drive-through line was a bit long as I ordered a tall Caramel Dream.
When I approached the window to pay for my latte, I discovered that the woman one car ahead of me already paid for my drink.
“It’s just a random thing,” the barista informed me as she leaned out the little window and handed me my latte.
That most certainly made my day. Nothing like that has happened to me at Starbucks.
Perhaps I’ll do the same and make someone else’s day by picking up the tab on their favorite caffeine drink, be it hot or cold.
Remember when I panicked after learning I had a cholesterol score of 234?
It was all bullshit.
I had blood drawn Saturday for a second cholesterol test by my doctor.
The phone call came shortly after 4 this afternoon.
High cholesterol? Hardly! My new score: 179.
In the words of the nurse, “Excellent.”
Not sure why I received such an outrageously high score the first go around. And here I’ve been living the past few weeks, readying myself to change my diet, exercise more and ingest some cholesterol-lowering drug promoted on weeknight TV.
But not anymore.
Please pass the fried chicken. I’m starving.
Details, details, details: http://www.robmanuel.com/2006/05/02/mac-switch-mac-bore/
Part of the experience at the doctor’s office is getting weighed. On Friday, I stepped on the scale and, to my surprise, discovered I weighed 123 pounds.
However, I have a scale at home and know I weigh around 115 pounds.
I immediately spoke up and said, “Um, I think the scale may be broken. I don’t weigh 123 pounds.”
{I knew I drank a lot the night before, but didn’t eat much. Could I have consumed 8 pounds of alcohol in just six hours?}
The nurse smiled and said, “No, it’s not broken. I just weighed myself this morning!”
I convinced the smiling nurse to try another scale. I stepped on and confidently smiled when the digital display read 116 pounds.
Here’s what’s weird about this experience. If I really weighed 123 pounds — but thought I only weighed 115 pounds — I wouldn’t have minded a bit. My clothes aren’t fitting any differently and, for the most part, I’m happy with how my body looks.
However, when I thought I weighed 123 pounds, I wouldn’t stand for it — not when I knew I weighed 115 pounds.
Why the hell does my brain work this way? Weight is just a number!
I had two tubes of blood drawn this morning. I requested the nurse use my left arm, as my right arm does everything from write to shift my Hyundai.
The last time I had blood drawn, a massive, sprawling bruise bloomed the next day where the needle punctured my skin. I am 99 percent sure the same will happen later today/early tomorrow.
My digital camera will document the bruise’s progress, should it decide to show up.
In the meantime, my left arm is killing me.
Ouch!
