Deja Vu...All Over Again...Really?

For those of y'all that read me on a regular basis, you already know most of my...ahem...brilliant ideas come either during a semi-conscious state in the wee, still hours of the morning or at night...as I'm soaking in the tub.  I'm thinkin' in the morning 'cause I'm still half asleep and at night, 'cause I'm running water instead of my head.  Basically same difference...I'm not talking for a change...I'm listening and He seizes the opportunity to get a word in.

Last night as I was steppin' into the tub, the word Pinterest flashed through my mind.  While relaxing with Mr. Bubbles and dreaming of all that Pinterest has to offer, my thoughts drifted in another direction...plagiarism.

Right about now I'm willing to bet a dollar to a donut,  I got y'all wondering what the heck is she talking about and how does Sweetie Pie figure into this...correct-o mundo?  She doesn't.  She's just my favorite pin-up gal (get it...pin-up...pin-it?) and if you hang with me...I promise a caboose to end this train of thought!

Pinterest is this fantabulous, visual social network that has exploded over the last coupla years.  It didn't take long to figure out it allows us to do pretty much what we do on Blogger...with a lot less work...and no need for spell-check.  (If you ever get to wondering where me...and everybody else...is hiding out, check Pinterest first.)  It dazzles the mind with all the talent that's out there and if they ever add scratch and sniff...oh mylanta...I'll never leave!

We can share ideas, words, comments and a whole mess of stuff with a click or a "pin it", but...and this is a huge but...it also allows us to borrow (a nice way of saying copy) another's brain child.

This is the conundrum I'm wrasslin' with.

At what point does it steer off from borrowing into flat-out plagiarism.  By pinning something, does it then become public property or is it still protected?

(We're not gonna even address using it as a marketing tool, 'cause that's a whole 'nother can of worms!)

 

Trust me...I'm not pointing fingers here...'cause if I did...there would be three pointing back at me.  I see ideas, displays, and words I fall in love with.  I go there for inspiration and leave with tons of ideas I'd like to incorporate into my work, but I'm afraid of crossing the line and being labeled a copy-cat.

So-o-o...I'm asking y'all...what is the line?  Is there an etiquette at play and what is and isn't up for grabs?  By helping ourselves to ideas, are we following our dreams...or chasing another person's?  Are we truly admiring their work...or pinning our hopes on them?  Does the end justify the means?

In all fairness, if I put it out there to be admired, wouldn't it be foolish to think it won't be stolen used by others?  More importantly...do I care enough to stop or do I need the admiration...even if it's double-edged sword?

If I'm gonna be honest here...sometimes I wish I had the morals of a politician.  If I did, I could just steal someone's ideas or words, claim 'em as my own...and keep moving with nary a pang of guilt...but I'm just not geared that way.  Not to say that I haven't inadvertently used someone's cleverness...just never on purpose.  I've been found guilty of reading something, filing it away in my head, and using it later...not remembering where I read it.

(Hmmm...could this be a form of selective memory...or another manifestation of my Squirrel disorder?)

Most of the time, I do try and research out a clever phrase...just to be sure it's not a fluke and really my idea, but some do slip by me.  It's important to remember words are an art form too and while we can't copyright them or the way in which they are used, we can try to make them our own.  As much as I study the writing of others, I can't capture the rhythm, imagery, or style and it's their uniqueness combined with originality that keeps me reading.

(I sure wish I had wrote all this down on paper last night instead of on the tile with a loofah...'cause it read so much better and made so much more sense than I am now!  I keep telling Cat Daddy I need a small tape recorder to carry around....water-proof natch!)

It's been said imitation is the highest form of flattery and I see the mega-talented get flattered out the wazoo constantly and yet...with style and grace...never utter a peep.  I guess if I'm gonna be a copy-cat...I need to start with adopting this attitude...and thereby answering my own question.  I have to be my own watchdog, hold myself accountable, give credit where credit is due...and let all the others struggle with their conscience.

(Although I'm pretty sure those with no remorse are the same ones who came up with the whole "imitation...form of flattery" malarkey!)

I apologize for my rant y'all.  Consider this a lesson in why one should never leave a child...or an old woman...unsupervised during bath time.  One...they get all pruney, two...water gets splashed everywhere, three...they leave their towel on the floor, and four...they have way too much time to stir up a tubful of crap trouble bubbles.

(Now let's just wait and see how many copy-catters flatters Pinterest and it's success has to fend off.  We all know it's just a matter of time, but we'll remember where we saw it first!)

 

   

Carpe Diem...Deja Vu

February 3, 2012...6:00 a.m.

Fall outta bed and make my way into office.  Power up the computer and stumble into kitchen to make coffee.

While waiting on said coffee, click on TV to double check if the earth is still spinning and what the weatherman is predicting so I can dress accordingly...socks or bare feet.

Stumble back into kitchen to administer the first of 3 cups of coffee, then head on back to the office for just a few minutes of computer time.

February 3, 2012...8:30 a.m.

Try to get up from office chair, but find my butt and legs have gone numb.  Scribble a note to remind me to google this later and find what might be causing this...hoping it's not old age.

Hmmm...find myself wondering on how earth I got that second cup of coffee in my hand...and is it somehow tied to the whole numb-butt phenom.

Start household chores by picking up Cat Daddy's dirty socks from where they hit the floor...smiling to myself at this...just one of his lovely daily reminders of how much he needs me.

Fill sink with hot sudsy water to cram soak dirty dishes in from the night before then off to make the bed.

Do a multi-task walk through picking up cr@p while straightening at the same time.  Place vacuum cleaner in the middle of the room in case I decide the floors need a swipe.

Start to kitchen to wash dishes, but remember I need to check e-mails first.

February 3, 2012...10:00 a.m.

Stiffly, get out of office chair and run some hot water into the sinkful of dirty dishes that somehow got cold.

Put on rubber gloves and haz-mat suit to clean bathroom.  Clean the three sides of the bathtub that show, wipe down the faucets (gleam says clean) and disinfect the toilet seat for that oh-so-fresh feeling.

Look at vacuum cleaner sitting in the middle of the floor and think to myself...is it really dirty.

Fix a little breakfast of Pop Tarts and sit down at desk to eat while checking out new blog posts.  I can't afford to lose any time on trivial activities...like adding another dirty dish to the overflowing sinkful I got on stand-by.

February 3, 2012...11:30 a.m.

Struggle outta office chair and limp into kitchen to find drops for watery eyes.  Funny...I don't remember Evan mentioning in his morning forecast a heavy pollen count. Numb butt, loss of memory, watery eyes...must remember to look this up on WebMD.

Add more hot water and Dawn to sink, but make the executive decision to go ahead, bite the bullet, and wash them to avoid a monster water bill next month.

Look at vacuum cleaner for the third time and have a light bulb moment... floors are clean enough.

My tummy is rumbling, reminding me it's almost lunch time...and I'm still in my pajamas.

February 3, 2012...12:15 p.m.

Fix a burrito (on a paper towel) for lunch, grab a coke outta the fridge, and using my time management skills, make a quick stop at the computer to visit Facebook.

February 3, 2012...1:30 p.m.

Decide to put on street clothes just in case Cat Daddy comes home early and give my hair a lick and a promise.

House smells a bit stale, but can't find my new fig scent candles to light.  Searching for them is eating up my precious time, so instead throw a load of whites in the laundry, being sure to add fabric softener.  Nothing like a little Downey to add a nice fresh scent to the house.

February 3, 2012...2:00 p.m.

Doing all that laundry has me too pooped to pop.  Grab a snack sized Butterfinger and plop down at computer to re-charge for the next round of household chores.

While waiting for energy level to return to normal, get busy doing some real work...reorganizing my Pinterest boards.

February 3, 2012...3:30 p.m.

Jump outta my office chair, hobble into kitchen to run some water and Pine Sol into sink, having recently discovered it gives the house that "just cleaned" smell...without actually having to clean it.

Clean the glass storm door and hope I don't have any birds crashing into it...again.

February 3, 2012...4:00 p.m.

Realize I haven't done a post on my blog in over a week.  Start post, but have to hit "Save" as Cat Daddy's truck pulls into drive.

Hurriedly shut down all tabs, lurch into the kitchen to throw water on my face to resemble beads of sweat, and notice my britches are on...inside out.

Throw wet towels in dryer and almost hang myself trying to get the last wash cloth outta the washer.

February 3, 2012...4:30 p.m.

Greet Cat Daddy with a weary, but loving smile from my day's exhausting work, sit and listen to his telling of his day...and try not to yawn.

Watch jealously as Cat Daddy sits in my chair at the computer to check out auctions and estate sales.

Start dinner while discreetly shooting him the stank eye.

Go ahead and put away vacuum cleaner for another day.  He never even noticed it sitting there.

February 3, 2012...5:00 p.m.

Take a much needed sit-a-spell while supper's simmering to watch In The Heat Of The Night reruns.

Fold semi-dry towels while Mr. Tibbs solves the crime du jour.

February 3, 2012...6:00 p.m.

Sit down at separate TV trays with Cat Daddy and dine in the romantic flicker of The Big Bang Theory reruns.  Laugh together at the same hilarious lines...over and over.

Make plans with Cat Daddy for the coming weekend to work around the house.  Make silent note to self...that'll be the day.

February 3, 2012...7:30 p.m.

Wait patiently as C.D. takes his bath and gets ready for bed.

Listen for heavy snoring and sneak into office for just a short visit to blogs.

February 3, 2012...11:59 p.m.

Check the time and ponder where the time went, while thinking to myself...didn't I just do all this yesterday...and the day before...and the day before that?

Glancing down at the screen, I notice the date on Yahoo shows February 2nd...wha-a-a?

Jump to my feet with the realization...

I'm trapped in Groundhog Day!

Somebody quick...save me!

Change my date and time stamp if necessary...pull my plug...put me in a DeLorean...whatever it takes!  Otherwise y'all...I'm trapped in this loop until further notice and...

if you gotta shoot, aim high.  I don't want to hit the groundhog!

A TKO At W&T's!

Once upon a time there existed a world where women wore curlers and hair nets while talking nonstop for hours on telephones wearing rotary dials and cords.  A world in which hand written mail...paid for with a 4 cent stamp...came from far-away lands postmarked with exotic names like Ft. Worth, Duluth...or Toledo Ohio.  A place where television came complete with rabbit ears, twittering was for the birds, and to kindle was what a husband had on his mind Saturday night.

A simple existence for these village haus-fraus...except in January...when an annual not-to-be-missed event would roll around and transform those same prim and proper ladies...seemingly in the blink of an eye...into marauders and pillagers.

It was called a White Sale.

Ladies would cluster outside Sanger-Harris and Titche-Goettinger's, sizing up the competition while awaiting the opening of the doors.  A pox befelled the poor store manager who failed to unlock the doors promptly at ten and woe be unto any stragglers who stumbled and fell.  As the women...armored in their pill box hats and Playtex girdles...staked out their line of attack, they wasted little time before beginning their assault on tables holding meticulously folded sheets and towels.

The tireless quest that ensued rivaled that of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table.  For as much as the knights of old searched valiantly for the Holy Grail, these stalwart damsels had their own dragons to slay...beginning with anyone blocking the 2-fer pillows and ending with a set of mismatched Fieldcrest sheets at 30% off.

Biting, scratching, hair pulling...girls and boys...it was better than the Saturday night wraslin' matches at the Sportatorium.  Yea...even better than Fritz Von Erich's Iron Claw.  Undaunted and prepared to run the gauntlet, these wenches of old, wearing white kid gloves instead of boxing gloves, kicked, elbowed, and gouged each other to reach the granddaddy bargain of them all...."While they last...white towels at...(gasp!!!)... three for a dollar!".   With broken nails,  black eyes, and missing a hank of hair or two, they would lay their bounty at the check-out counter while smiling sweetly (sans a tooth or two) at the clerk, secure in the knowledge...they had won and victory was sweet.

The end...

or is it?

Nowadays, there is a sale going on somewhere...every day...always.  Whether it's a mattress or Red Apple Sale, it's just not the same.  The anticipation of a really good, once a year, lose your mind sale is but a legend of old.  Sadly, the frenzy those annual white sales could whip up are gone forever...BUT...if you lust after a really good sale...look no further.  W&T's/Sweet Pea's to the rescue.

You want a knight in shining armor to rescue you?

We can do better than that with a day trip to rusty heaven and junk salvation.

You want him to carry you away on a white horse?

You'll be carried away by all the merchandise we are offering at 20-30% off at the shops...and not just in white.

You'd give your good right arm for a fortuitous deal...but don't want to lose your left one in the bargain?

Then...come on down!

If you're going to Canton tomorrow...or Thursday...or Friday...why not plan on making a little 20 minute detour to beautiful, downtown Athens?  For a plethora of items guaranteed to make you see stars...and not from another shopper conking you on the noggin....head to Winnie and Tulula's and Sweet Pea's for Not Your Normal White Sale.  You're gonna want to give your eyeteeth for our deals, but I promise you...the only one who'll be missing teeth at the register will be our precious shop baby!

Just to be on the safe side though...be sure and bring your checkbook!

Heck y'all...he's worth the trip!

Remember...listen for the cash register bell...no hitting below the macrame' belt...and may the best woman/man win!

  

Like Watching Paint Dry

Goodness y'all, but I lead an exciting life.  I don't know which of my latest nail-biting adventures to share with y'all first...painting the bedroom...or preparing my annual sales tax report.  Both are have-you-sitting-on-the-edge-of-your-seat, riveting tales to be sure, but a cliff hanger is always good for a Monday morning so whatdaya say we start with the Black Hole of Casita de Trash...the bedroom project with no end?

Let me start by saying I love paint chip cards.  They're right up there with wallpaper and fabric samples in my mind.  (Is that a "girly" thing or what?)  I've got those little strips of paper all over the house...clipped to my man basket, peeking outta drawers, tucked in every handbag I own.  Shoot...I once even made price tags outta 'em just to get rid of some 'cause I couldn't bear to throw 'em in the trash.

I also love paint...not painting per se...just the paint.  In the past, I changed paint colors almost as much as I changed my underwear.  I swear up and down...I think I've lost a good 10' in square footage with all the layers of paint I've added over the years.  Repaint every 10 years...pshaw...about every 3 around these parts!

What I don't like is picking out paint...normally.  This time was a breeze.  I knew what color I wanted and lucked out my first time outta the shoot when we went to get it....Glidden's Granite Gray.  In the words of Goldilocks...not too dark...not too blue...ju-u-u-st right!

I'll tell y'all a little secret about me...I am the messiest painter on the planet!  When I buy paint, I always get twice what I think I'll need...as in a gallon for the walls...and one for me to wear.  I get paint everywhere...and I do mean everywhere.  When I take a bath after painting, I think to myself "Now how on this green earth did I get paint there?"

Another little secret about me...I don't do product endorsements.  I get asked, but I make it a rule to never mix business with pleasure.  I'll endorse yours 'cause I believe in you and your artistry, but never commercial ones...never.  Well guess what y'all?  Never say never...'cause rules were made to be broken and I'm breaking one of mine.

Believe you me...and I'm not getting paid to say this...Glidden's 2n1 paint is...in three words...Fab U Lous!

I was going to be painting over dark chocolate brown walls and the idea of having to prime the walls first gave me the willys!  I make no bones about being lazy...it's who I am and doing double work on a room I was already dreading just didn't seem like the carrot-on-a-stick incentive needed to get me shaking my tail feathers.  When I saw this paint...I thought why the heck not give it a try.  The only thing I stood to lose was a little money if it didn't work.  Law...but work it did...like a rented mule!  No dripping...no streaking...total coverage on first application...easy clean-up...a procrastinator's dream paint!  I had bought only one gallon in case it didn't pan out, but guess what?  I still have almost a half a gallon left after painting a 10x12 room!

The best part?  Except for some Jackson Pollock squiggles on my left thumbnail...Trash is paint free!  That's right y'all...the only gray in my hair comes from raising kids...not from raising a paint roller!  Can I get a yee to the haw?

The room is taking shape and if my camera was working properly, I'd show y'all some money shots.  In the meantime, you'll just have to take my word for it.  I'm working my flat-as-a-flitter hiney off and it's gonna be Bee-U-ti-ful.  The fun part is almost about to commence!

Before I begin hanging curtains though...I'm off to see what else I can slap some Granite Gray on.

Here kitty, kitty, kitty!

 

Word To The Wise...From A Wiseacre

A friend asked me recently what my word of the year was going to be and my first thought...it sure as heck ain't gonna be one that I feel inclined to include in the title of each.and.every.post!  What the heck was I thinking when I dreamed up that nightmare?  Folks...if you ever see me thinking of doing that again (and you'll know 'cause my eyes will be spinning in opposite directions and smoke comin' outta my ears)...do us both a favor and  slap me on the forehead, get all up in my face, and holler "DON'T!"  Let me tell y'all...some of my titles for 2011 were a stretch...even for me.

Like a lost marble (or two...or three), I've rolled this around in my head since New Year's eve trying to take a'holt of what and where I wanted to be in 2012.  Looking at the date on the calendar this morning and realizing January was slipping away, I thought "Bingo...got it!".

  PROCRASTINATION

A word that fits like a pair of Spanx.  I do believe I could single-handedly put the Pro in procrastination.

(I stole borrowed this from somewhere and can't remember where!)

I tell myself all the time, I don't drag my feet...it's just that I work better under pressure...but I'm only fooling myself.  To be fair...it's not entirely my fault.  In doing a little prep work for this post, I did my research on the word procrastination and it seems it's actually a slight kink in the ol' wiring of the noggin...kinda like ADD.

For all my joking about Squirrel Alerts, it really is true.  I'm easily distracted and even easier to talk into doing something...make that anything...instead of what I should be doing.  It isn't always laziness on my part or even a lack of will power...it's poor time management more often than not.  Obviously, a skill I failed to learn over the years.  Ooops!

I have a tendency to put off and put off until I'm so overwhelmed, I don't know how to even begin.  I'm not making excuses, but to keep from beating myself up relentlessly, it really got out of control while waiting for Bella to be born and continued to spiral downward like a kite that had lost its wind while waiting for her to come home.  Like the wind...my priorities shifted and with it...my attention. 

For example...remember this photo?

(Ugh...my Black Hole of Casita de Trash!)

'Course you don't...how could you?  We'd have to take a trip in the Way Back Machine to jog your memory 'cause it's from December 2008 and half of you didn't even know me then.  Would you be shocked if I told you the only thing different in this room is the boxes are back in the Christmas building (she says hanging her head in shame!)?  It's true.  This room is the bane of my existence...my Achilles heel...my Kryptonite.  I walk in there...get the heebie-jeebies...close my eyes...slowly back out...shut the door...and promise myself I'll do it later.  Deny..deny...deny!

The thing is y'all while doing my research, one suggestion for coping was to quit trying to be it all while doing it all.  Instead, the experts suggest commit only to the first step and see how that goes, thus staving off the guys in white jackets and possibly real commitment.

S-o-o...here it is...my word for 2012.

ONE

That's it.

One step at a time...instead of trying to skip a few in haste and stumbling...or worse...falling.

One piece at a time...instead of running back and forth doing ten...and watching in horror as they all turn into hot messes.

One project at a time...instead of fifty that never get finished or wind up looking like...well...for lack of a better analogy..dog poo.

One day at a time...instead of worrying Thursday what could happen on Friday or what went wrong on Wednesday.  Tomorrow can wait and yesterday's gone.

Finally...one life...mine...and me repurposing it.

My first step/project/day reclaiming my sanity began this week...in that blasted bedroom.  The walls are swept down...along with the cobwebs...the holes patched.  The blue tape is in place and the paint has been purchased. (Y'all would be so proud of me and how I handled making my paint choice. I kept calm and no bodily harm came to Cat Daddy throughout the entire ordeal!)

Once I begin painting, it'll go fast, but for now...I have to take a little breather from everything else in order to remain focused on one thing at a time.  If I can conquer that dratted dreaded room...I'm on my way to conquering my fear of failure.

After that y'all...the world is my oyster...served on the half shell...

and I can't wait to slurp it down!

Word up...y'all! 

  

Games Of Chance?

Random...an adjective defined as having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective...

or in layman's terms...

chance.

I personally find this amusing since I don't happen to hold with chance...even with something as seemingly mundane as choosing a number for a giveaway.  I couldn't have sat down, gone through all the entries, and picked a better number to win the Spoonin' pendant than #1.

# 1...Rebecca at A Re-Purposed life just "happened" to be the first commenter...just "happened" to be only one of two still awake at the stroke of midnight to ring in the New Year with me...and just "happens" to be anything but random.

R.E.'s life is full of purpose...God's purpose for her...hence her blog name.  She never sits still for very long, always has an on-going project or her Bible at hand, runs up and down the highway like she was born with wheels on her tooshie, and epitomizes the words SQUIRREL ALERT.  God is constantly diverting her attention with random beauty causing her to stop...pull over to the side of the road...and marvel in His goodness.  She may begin a major over haul of a room, only to have Him whisper "Made you look!" sending her out to lecture, teach, and reach out to others.  Her daily planner is full of changes, scribbled out dates, and cancelled plans, but it's also bulging with friendships, love, and proof-pudding of a most beautiful Re-Purposed Life.

Big...huge...thanks to all of you for your oh-so-funny comments and for taking the time to humor an old lady.  BTW...one of the best was Susie's.  If you get a chance...read it.  Law...it's a squirrel tale to end all squirrel tails tales!  (Warning:  empty all contents of your mouth before reading!) 'Course I was sad to have to eliminate her, but good golly...she can make her own!

Sorry I had to eliminate a few others from the drawing as well, but there are rules about family members...Jenn.  (Play nice and maybe your gorgeous mother will get you one for your birthday!)

A special thank you to those of y'all who became new followers.  I appreciate the pleasure of your company and hope you come by again.  I'll be sure and leave the light on for you...even if you've only time for a drive-by.  Believe me when I say...I'll take it!

I want to emphasize...y'all are all numero uno in my book, but sadly...that ain't how the game is played.  I will say here and now...for all the world (or at least a few hundred) to read...y'all could never be the dog poo on the soles of my Yellow Boxes.  You're way too busy being the Dr. Scholl's to this ol' gal's heart and...SOUL!  

Random... could be, but you'll have a hard time convincing me...

'cause people...

I just can't make this stuff up!

'Cause Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut

In hindsight, vision is always 20/20, but when writing a post while drinking Pink Squirrels,  it's more like 20/12.  Let me be a warning against BWUI*...don't do it!

(*BWUI...blogging while under the influence.)

Nuts and bolts get omitted...important nuts...and even more important bolts....like extra ways to earn brownie points.

(~I do not like the cone of shame.~Up)

Why on earth didn't I mention giving a shout out to Susie on your own blogs...either with a post or on your sidebar?  Really...tell me why?  Oh yeah...I remember...my SADD* got in the way!

(*SADD...squirrel attention deficiency disorder.)

This people is why I cannot be left unattended...SQUIRREL!

(~Won't you please be my prisoner, please, please, please.~Up)

I also failed to mention that I'll be needing contact info...just in case you're the nut who falls from the tree when it comes time to shake out a winner.  I'm not trying to get y'all to chase your tails...BUT...if you do decide to do a assorted nuts sorta soup-to-nuts on my giveaway...go here (not here) to let me know about it.  Otherwise...I'll be the one running around...trying to gather all my nuts in one basket.  I think I'm also gonna change the date to the 8th for announcing the winner for one reason and one reason only.

(Do you not agree with that I am saying to you now?~Up)

In a nutshell, the way I got it figured...the more folks who know about Susie Q...the more orders she's gonna be filbert filling and I really want to see her rattling that squirrel cage round and round 'til 2014!  Yeah...her talent and prices are just that off-her-nut good!

(Susie girl...~My name is Dug.  I have just met you and I love you.~)

Remember...let me know on the previous post here...not here.  Don't make me take my earrings off.  Got it...get it...good!

~I can smell you~Up