My talented photographer friend from high school and college, Chris Machian, often sends me old photos he finds tucked away on his Macintosh.

Here’s one from college. I don’t recall the year (1999? 2000? 2001?), but I know it was summer and I know I was into wearing tube tops that season. And, apparently, hoping to start as a forward for the Chicago Bulls.

In preparation of tomorrow, I turned the page of my trusty calendar from May to June.

Where’s this year going? And why’s it going so damn fast?

Last night, while dining at Marks, Molly, Jimmy and I got to talking about My Space.

More importantly, we turned our discussion to the Top 8.

The My Space Top 8 has turned functioning, cerebral, professional adults into, literally, children.

Who’s listed on our Top 8s can be a huge matter. One wrong placement of a person and, just like that, a friendship could be ruined forever and a day.

Someone’s Top 8 could change daily, based on the potential of blossoming relationships or the destruction of old ones.

Consciously listing a person on your Top 8 is quite the commitment and testament to your relationship, especially when you have 20 or more My Space “friends.” (We’ve all accepted friend requests from complete strangers simply to boost our number of friends. Guilty as charged, I say.)

Making one’s Top 8 is a mighty feat — or, no feat at all, if the account holder has less than eight friends listed. Making the Top 8 by default can be rather pathetic.

Hearing us continually utter the phrase “Top 8” last night sounded so silly, though. We’re grownups, for God’s sake.

My friend, Melissa, is looking for a new job.

In the meantime, she’s keeping her creative knives sharp with emails such as the following I received earlier today.

You Know You Need a Job When:

• You’ve been “removed” from Eppley Airfield for trancing around the tarmac with your Casio keyboard lyp-syncing to Coldplay’s “Speed of Sound.”
• You can’t quite seem to extend the length of your rock opera/sitcom based on Erasure songs.
• The world is an awful, horrible place where a media relations specialist that works for a small college in Omaha misspells several words in press releases and she makes a very, very nice paycheck.
• Bablyon – the tv show from 1980- becomes the highlight of your afternoon. Barry VanDyke is sooooo hot!
• You stay up until 5 a.m. reading The DaVinci Code–okay, so I got scared reading it. That freaking albino guy scared me!
• At family get-together’s they give you that look after asking how everyone is doing. I got the same look after every game in high school when the parents would say good-game to the players.
• You’ve arranged all of your empty notepads and notebooks on the carpet –just to look at them.
• You’ve spun around your living room – dancing AND lip-syncing to “Juke Box Hero.”
• Your neighbors have asked you to stop knocking on their door selling Nilla wafers.
• You are waiting for the phone to ring and sometimes you pretend you have your own office. “Thank you for calling MK Industries–your choice for Civil War memorabilia.”
• You’ve made the apartment complex’s parking lot into Suduku.

I give you, according to PCWorld.com, The 25 Worst Tech Products of All Time.

Read on. You just might learn something.

Any doubt of my passion for Apple Computer was eliminated last night by the true, steady hand of Joshua Strader at Big Brain Productions.

Applying the temporary tattoo to use as an outline.

Joshua working his magic.

Seconds after my new tattoo is complete.

The morning after and loving it even more.

{Thanks to Molly for taking last night’s photos. And to Jimmy for telling me all about his recent trip to London to take my mind off the prickly pain.}

While picking up a few items at my neighborhood Wal-Mart Thursday evening, I stopped for a moment when I overheard a Wal-Mart employee make a rather humorous announcement head throughout the store.

“Attention Wal-Mart customers. If you have less than 20 items, I can do you at the jewelry counter.”

When she repeated her rather friendly announcement, she realized a necessary change in word choice.

“Attention Wal-Mart customers. If you have less than 20 items, I can check you out at the jewelry counter.”

I spent my glorious day off from work surrounded in color.

My pretty, post-manicure feet.

Flowers for my front porch.

More flowers for my front porch.

Thank God It’s Thursday.

Why?

Because I’m taking Friday off from work to truly experience the beauty, power and glory of the almighty Four-Day Weekend.

My plans for Friday, thus far, include:

(1) Cleaning out my garage and the large closet in my basement.

(2) Getting a pedicure. {Pretty feet during the summer are the best.}

(3) Purchase a paper shredder and new summer pajamas.

(4) Create new music CDs to keep in my car. {Listening to great music in the car on a summer night is the best.}

(5) Upload more photos to my My Space page.

(6) Visit a local Bath & Body Works to use my $25 gift card, stocking up on girly bath gels and body lotions.

I have no idea why the hell it’s called Chick-fil-A (the spelling, punctuation and grammar errors are enough to drive an editing freak like me mad), but, damn, do they sell a good fried chicken sandwich.

And their waffle fries? Don’t even get me started.

Omaha has but one Chick-fil-A, tucked away in the employee cafeteria at Mutual of Omaha, where I had the sublime opportunity to have my first Chick-fil-A today with my best gal pal, Gail.

I have been reborn a Chick-fil-A fanatic.