New Tagline--Your Thoughts?

Life is a mish-mash of activity this week as I try to clear my plate for next week and the half-marathon. I believe I'm going down to the island on Wednesday with my neighbors and Blair will join me later in the week. Aside from fitting in daily 5-mile runs, I'm trying to tie up loose ends so I can hop in the car on Wednesday with a clean conscience.

This morning I'm off to the Women's Resource Center of Greensboro to teach a class on networking to 15 women in the displaced-homemaker program. Then straight home and back to the computer to work on a huge article due at the end of the month. Than a "Girls Night Out" tonight at The FAT CAT, a local art gallery where I will schmooze and sell books.

Yesterday I spent most of the day at GTCC, selling my books at an indoor crafts fair. I sold 15 before I left and there were still a few hours left in the festival, so I'm pleased with that number.  I haven't done much this year in terms of promotion for my book, but I'm trying to hit little festivals here and there as I can.

I think I've come up my new tagline for my website as well. I was lying in bed Wednesday night, unable to fall to sleep, when the line just popped into my mind. I don't even recall thinking about my DSI or any of that stuff but that's how the mind works--it chews over cud in your subconscious and then spits it out when it's ready. So, what do you all think of....

 Dena Harris... Write For You

I also decided to stick with my strength, which is feature article writing for national publications. I'll play that as a benefit to those who might consider hiring me for local work.  But I decided I didn't want to "name" myself anything like "Creative Communications" because really, I am my own brand and I want to keep www.denaharris.com as my website and not have to buy or direct people to a new domain. Now I just have to find the time to actually write the new copy for the website so Melody, my website designer, can get it up and running.

But for now, I must go grab keys, purse and coffee and head out the door. A good start to what's shaping up to be a productive weekend. 

No More Little Scaredy Cat

When we first brought Olivia (our forever kitten) home, she hid under the couch in the front room for 6 weeks. To pet her we had to lie on the floor, shove ourselves halfway under the sofa and then pull her out. She would put out a big purr as we petted her, but whether from fear or pleasure we weren't sure. Six weeks... for awhile we thought we'd made a mistake. 

Now flashback to last night. Blair went to bed before me and Olivia was lying horizontal across the bed. I have a rule about not disturbing resting cats (unless it's to smother them in kisses) and so I squeezed into the remaining space. That left Olivia's head near my knee and her back feet touching Blair.  When I went to bed, Olivia had been awake, sitting up Syphnx-like. Now I felt a soft thump and leaned my head up to look at her. She was curled in a half-moon pose, her head resting on my knee, her little body rising and falling with the steady inhale/exhale of her breathing.

I lay back down and was just overcome with feelings of love. My baby! This was the little kitty who we thought would never come around. And really, I'd say it's only been in the past year that her affectionate side has really come out--and this is her 5th year with us. (Hey--guess who just showed up and is winding around my feet as I type this?)

I just loved that she could chose to be anywhere in the house and she wanted to be curled up between Blair and myself. It's like having a great honor bestowed upon you. Everyone should have pets for the feelings of love and gratitude they induce.   

The cat that once once the great hider is now our little snuggler. She would have us pet her 24/7 if given her way. Seven out of ten times when she sees us coming, she flops on her back and stares hopefully at us, begging for a belly rub.

Right now, if you have pets, stop whatever you're doing and go give them a smooch. They're the best. 

Friends & Stomach Upset

Friends can be such a mixed blessing.

Last night my friend Ed and I went to hear our mutual friend Pamela King Cable speak to a rotary group about her journey, "Out of the Darkness & Into the Life of a Writer." It was a moving talk and Rotarians flocked (as they rightly should) to purchase Pam's new book, Southern Fried Women.

The club meets at a Thai restaurant and we were served a small but delicious salad with peanut dressing. After the talk, Ed, Pam, myself and Pam's husband Michael moved to a table in the restaurant for drinks and appetizers. Pam and I had wine, the men beer.  We all ordered spring rolls but instead of being served the fried delight we were hoping for, we were presented with shredded lettuce wrapped in a rubbery, transparent, and completely tasteless substance.

"A patty melt sounds good," sighed Pam.

"So do pancakes. Hey, there's an I-Hop up the street," said Ed.

Mike grabbed the check. "Let's go."

We downed our wine and trooped out to our cars, forming a mini-caravan to I-Hop. Once seated, we ordered chocolate-chip pancakes, a patty melt, fries, and coffee. Mind you, this is on top of peanut salad, spring rolls, and wine.

After two hours of laughter and conversation we stepped outside. "This was fun," said someone. "We should do this more often." We all nodded our heads and agreed.

"I think I'm going to barf," said someone else. We all nodded our heads and agreed.  

Would I ever eat such a gross combination of food on my own? Never!

Thank God for friends. They surely keep life interesting... 

Allergy Testing

In order to live in my large, dusty house with my large, dusty cats I am required to partake weekly in an allergy shot. And in order to receive said weekly shot, my allergist demands I visit him and cough up several hundred dollars once a year so he can say, "Doing okay?" and I can say, "Yes, fine thank you," and he can say, "Great. We'll keep going then. See you next year."

Such was the 3-minute scenario I expected this morning as I pulled in to my allergists parking lot at 10:45 for my 11 AM appointment (if I am anything, I am prompt).  But as luck would have it, the nurse taking my BP caught that this was my 5-year appointment which meant I was due to be retested. For anyone who's never been tested for allergies, this process involves you sitting in a cotton wrap big enough to house Detroit while a nurse uses a pen to write numbers up and down your back. Then she sticks a small needle containing an allergen next to each number and waits for you to swell up.

For the first time ever, I tested as more allergic to dogs than to cats. And according to the test, I will pretty much drop dead of asphyxiation if I am anywhere near a Black Walnut tree. Throw in dust mites and feather allergies and you've got yourself a party.

My allergist noted my animal allergies. "Got pets?" he asked.

"Two cats" I said, striking the indefensible Okinawa Crane Pose in the middle of his office. "And they're not leaving."

"So who's asking them to?" he said. "I gave up years ago on trying to convince people to get rid of their pets."

He then told me a horrible story about how the ONE patient he convinced to get rid of her cat gave the cat to him, and he had to tell her on her next visit that the cat, a Persian, had got out of his house and been killed by a dog. Why do people tell me these things???

I'm sitting in Panera (where else?) having just finished low-fat soup and an apple and trying to convince myself I don't need an apple tart to seal the deal. I'm also giving the evil eye to a truly nasty woman I worked with years ago who is sitting two tables up from me.  Her back is to me so her hair is receiving the brunt of  my evil-ward-offeness but that's the kind of back-stabbing gal I am. Hmmm... I better throw the sign of the cross out at her, just to be safe.

Happy Tuesday, all.