fountains of wayne

remind me eerily of Steve Miller band.

my very favorite apologetic

Gigantically, whoops.

things are a little cleaned up around here these days. not to say that I am ashamed or denying myself any inner thoughts -- but I did inadvertently advertise them to a world that probably didn't need/want to see them.

and now, to borrow shamelessly from my favorite brit playwright:

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
that we have but slumbered here,
while these visions did appear
And this weak and idle theme,
no more yeilding but a dream
Gentles, do not reprehend,
if you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to scape the serpent's tongue
We shall make amends ere long.
Else the puck a liar call,
and so good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
and Robin shall restore amends.

press release: sgh to be acquired

MINNEAPOLIS, Minn.--(GOSSIP WIRE)-- NOVEMBER 2, 2005-- Sarah Green Haggerty LTD (sgh) announced today a definitive agreement in which sgh and all related talents, passions, interests and professional endeavors will be acquired by Carlson Marketing Group under the title Consultant, based in the Learning Solutions Group headquartered in Plymouth, Minnesota.
Immediate details of the acquisition were not immediately released; however, the deal is expected to close on Monday, November 28, 2005.

"This recent career development has me completely and utterly stoked," said sgh founder Sarah Green Haggerty. "While I will miss my co-workers, my work and the amazing things I've been able to participate in at Metris, I am also excited for new challenges and adventures with Carlson. I am looking forward to aligning my professional goals with my new team and experiences and to learning a new perspective on the learning and development business."

Operating Data

Sarah Green Haggerty (sgh), based in Minneapolis, Minn., is an established training and development professional, active in her local ASTD and Crafter's Anonymous chapters, and is one of the original members of Three Sara(h)s and a Rachel. In addition to an extensive education and career experience in human resource development, she is also a seasoned quilter, writer, and floral consultant. For more information, visit www.terminallywanderlust.com or sghlifeandtimes.blogspot.com

lightbulb

it's been therapy I have wanted to do all along.

just not with dissatisfied couples or bipolar, middle-aged women.


Why this dawns on me now, I'll never know. However, I'm reading my articles for tonight's class (we're talking about organization development, which I have a certification in)... and the lightbulb over my head clicks on. OD (organization development) is nothing more than calling in the therapist for an organization ... not an individual, the whole company. I'm going to do therapy on big business!

This pleases the anti-establishment in me, the psychologist in me, the helper in me, and the writer in me.

I heart my career.

If You Are Reading This

by Lynn Levin, from Imaginarium. © Loonfeather Press, Bemidji, Minnesota.

GIRL WITH DOG IN RAIN! Sweetheart, where are you now? Saw you at 16th and Walnut with your chocolate lab under an awning.It was raining parking lights and car horns. I was the guy double-parked delivering a tray of bagels to a corporate meeting. Nice stuff, 5 flavors, cream cheese and chives, butter daisies. Our eyes met, do you remember? I can't get you out of my mind. [Box 347]

OLD LADY AT QUIK MART. When I weighed your peppers, yousaid I had my thumb on the scale, then you called over the managerwho yelled at me and docked my pay. You: Old bag in a tan overcoat,muffler, purple pocketbook, evil eye. Me: Goatee, geek glasses, facialhardware. Please give me the opportunity to stab you. [Box 1601]

CHAD, LET ME EXPLAIN. That guy you saw me with on R7 local on Columbus Day meant nothing to me. He\'s just a commuter.Your silent treatment is unbearable! I'm beggin' you baby, come back![Box 776]

PENN CENTER ELEVATORS FROM 16th TO 30th FLOOR. Iwant to push your magic buttons. I want to draw Mona Lisas on your beautiful skin. You: Backless red dress, black heels. Me: Bald guy, 35.We rode up together, you got off at 19. I was too shy to talk to you.Now full of regrets. How about sushi or tantric sex? [Box 1446]

GUY ON R7 LOCAL OCT. 10, EVENING COMMUTE. You satnext to me and suddenly it was Valentine's Day. You liked my Offspring button. I told you about med tech school. You let me take your pulse. It was almost like holding hands. You: Hilfiger sweatshirt, laptop, got off at Somerton. Me: Hip chick, red hair, Capri jeans. Let's pick up wherewe left off. [Box 777]

YO! YOU THERE ON DEERPATH DR. I'm the telemarketer you dissed. Wasn't selling you anything, SOB, just giving you a free estimate on kitchen cabinets. I know your number and where you live. Call now to apologize. [Box 961]

OFFICEMAX, FEASTERVILLE, YEAR AND A HALF AGO. You: long black trenchcoat with three-piece suit. Me: Asian girl with blackjacket, wet curly hair, tight black pants, sunglasses on my head. You stared at me a long time waiting at checkout. We looked at each other as you walked out. Will renew until I find you. [Box 1674]


sgh personal commentary: I'm addicted to missed connections, Saw You's, etc... they are so fascinating! A completely legal way to peeping tom into a complete stranger's psyche. Love it!

Friends Thanksgiving: your official notice!

11/19, 7pm. Friends Thanksgiving 2005. Everything and the kitchen sink.

For the last 4 years (really? It's been that many? Yes, yes it has...) John and I have been throwing a massive dinner party before Thanksgiving -- a time for all of our friends to get together, eat (read: showcase John's culinary talents), and make merry all the night long.

This year, the menu includes:
* the turkey (the one that uses about 12 pounds of butta)
* the stuffing (the kind that goes IN the turkey, with the apples and sausage in it? mmmm...)
* the sweet potatoes (my very own, filled with nutty, brown sugary, orange-y goodness.)
* corn with chived sweet cream butter (mmmm... made this earlier in the fall, soo good.)
* holiday rolls (hurray! I found my great-grandma's recipe)
* colcannon (irish mashed potatoes with carrots and cabbage in them)
* cranberry sauce (no, not the stuff that comes can-shaped... eww.)
* potentially, potato dumplings (if there's enough demand)
* that buttery gravy john makes
* a couple of apple pies, a pecan pie, a couple of pumpkin pies with some home-made whipped cream ice cream for dessert

If you're a friend (and you know who you are), you're invited!
Bring:
* yourself, and your significant other, should you be in possession of one
* your own adult beverage to share; milk, water and mulled wine provided (you may also tap into the vast Haggerty liquor reserves)
* if you would like, an appetizer to share with the crowd

Dinner at 7:30; come early to get the best appetizes and seat at the table!
RSVP is greatly appreciated!

boyhood

Boyhood, like measles, is one of those complaints which a man should catch young and have done with, for when it comes in middle life it is apt to be serious.
- PG Wodehouse

I'm in love...

Gasp!

Ok, ok... I know I am a ways off from being a real Rollergirl.

But these chicks kick butt! And I sooo want to be one of them.

Top 10 reasons I should have lunch with Diana (as quoted by Diana herself)

(1) Because, frankly, Di looks like hell today, and needs some fashion
consultation time, and motivation to stop looking and feeling as if she rolled
directly from bed to the bus.

(2) If you don't have lunch with Di, she will knit and bond with her iPod and
new CD's for an hour and a half. This is dangerous as it will inspire her to
have more music and start new and exciting craft projects. Save her checkbook!

(3) Di's kinda angsty about her family meeting her boy, and could use a good
diversion.

(4) If you don't have direction on what you need to do at work, you therefore
actually have nothing to do. By having a long lunch instead of sitting at your
desk picking your nose, you are performing many valuable services, such as:
sparing your cube-mates the sight of your boogers and making them feel bad as
they are so inefficient that they have work to do, and you are so bloody good
that you do not.

(5) Support locally owned business. Have lunch at Kieran's. It's tasty, yet
economical.

(6) There are new pictures to view, and Di's real excited by them.

(7) Consider it not "lunch" but "exercise" as you will laugh so hard that your
face muscles will actually hurt.

(8) You will be doing me a favor. By having my one allowed lunch out this week
out of the way early, I won't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.

(9) In the grand scheme of things, what's more important? Di's gut, or your
job? :)

(10) C'mon. You know you want to....

well, I don't know about anyone else, but that tears it. I'm in.

more crumbs of musicalia goodness

I've been listening to 22-20s this morning.

And I keep looking over to my iPod in the middle of the song, to see if we've switched to some current-day version of the Doors.

I can't shake that feeling like Brit vocalist Martin Trimble is somehow channeling Jim Morrison's bluesy soul somehow (so jealous -- why can't I channel Jim Morrison's bluesy, sexy soul??)

I don't know enough about this band to make comments as to their flash-in-the-pan status... however, suffice it to say that when handful of modern-day Brits can connect me back to some early, gritty, brassy rock that made me fall in love with music in the first place, it's noteworthy.

ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod

seriously: I had to run out and buy some pants that fit me today. I just bought some, but they are slipping right down around my ankles when I walk (this is good -- refer to my previous postings about body loathing.)

I bought a size today, that I will not announce to the world... but suffice it to say, I haven't worn that size since the fall of 1998. 7 years of fat -- see ya!

inherently biased CD review #06332814: Franz Ferdinand - You Could Have It So Much Better

Really, I could have it so much better?

I think this sophomore album is just about as good as britpop gets.


There are 13 solid tracks on Franz Ferdinand's 2nd release of last week, You Could Have It So Much Better.

Top 3 Picks:
Track 4: Walk Away... while this slows the normal top hat cymbol and danceable guitar rifts Franz Ferdinand just a bit, it's a good example of how my Scottish lads (ach, aye!) are not only catchy musicians, but also demonstrate some fundamental songwriting skills. " I love the sound of you, walking away, you walking away." Nicely done.

Track 7: Wait, isn't this a Beatles song? No, that's Eleanor Rigby, not Eleanor Put Your Boots On. Any way you slice it, it's great, it's different, it's refreshing. I love it.

Track 10: I'm Your Villian... This song is everything that made me fall in love with Franz Ferdinand in the first place... the energy-laced guitar, the pounding drum, those cymbals that give me an insatiable urge to to bust and iPod-esque dancing move in my cube when I hear it...


Run, do not walk, to your nearest retailer and purchase/download this CD. Franz Ferdinand is fast becoming one of the new faces of music.

synergy

I was sitting in class tonight, thinking of things I could write other than notes on strategic planning... when I thought about this amazing thing that I have been experiencing.

synergy.

define this fancy-schmancy word, will ya sgh:
[From Greek sunergi, cooperation, from sunergos, working together. See synergism.]

The interaction of two or more agents or forces so that their combined effect is greater than the sum of their individual effects.

This is my life, the zeitgeist of my days this year. More than any other time in my life (and maybe it is just because I'm really feeling well-defined in who this sgh character is), I feel like I know who I am, what I'm after, what I want, where I am going.

My work feeds my education. I apply my weekly learning in professional organizations. I can use all that stuff at home with a husband and 2-year-old and managing the chaos I call home. Then, I go back to work on Monday morning, and it still all works. I can wear funky clothes to work and it's chill -- because I'm a writer, a designer, and they expect a little oddness out of someone creative, right? I have a job where I can write -- WRITE! -- all the livelong day. That also means I can steep myself in music whenever I'm not going to be in meetings (and, frankly, when I just want to hide inside myself).

More than my professional life, though... I am excited about my personal synergy. I have emerged from college and my early career a strong, beautiful and intelligent woman. Looking back, I sort of feel like I am on the last leg of a long and personally painful journey of redefining me. I'm still on tour with this whole, who is sgh business, by the way.... but it's the last (very good, very demanding) leg of the tour. It's learning and knowing and being one with my physical self. And I've found the key to that this month, too. I simply need to integrate it (going nicely, in case you are curious) and, wonder of wonders, I feel sort of "done" in who I am.

I'm all kinds of excited. I cannot wait to sit back and enjoy the me I finally can love completely!

c'est moi! 

10 questions I have asked today:

* Why don't I work downtown?
* Why are people compelled to drive 48 miles an hour when I need to get somewhere in a hurry?
* Whatever did I do to get so ridiculously blessed with people who love me?
* Where in God's name did I put my cell phone?
* Did I forget to eat a real lunch?
* Why do some people fail to return their e-mails?
* Is there an ulterior motive behind that gratitude?
* Does this skirt make me look fat?
* I wonder, could I skip my class tonight?
* What do my friends really think about me?

a Wilde thought

"We were born in an age where only the dull are treated seriously, and I live in terror of not being misunderstood."
-Oscar Wilde

three cheers for being misunderstood!

lax

I've been completely lax in my publishing. I've had many good thoughts. And even some hilarious moments. Of course, I cannot think of any just now. So I'm just going to attach a fabulous picture from the weekend and promise myself to not fear the blog. Even if I'm insanely busy. Because frankly, I sort of like reading my own insane ramblings every now and again.

I have a confession to make...

I think this is what it boils down to: I think that parts of me are beautiful. I like my eyes, I like my feet, I think I have nice calves and pretty rounded shoulders. I like the nape of my neck so much that I put a tattoo there for decoration, and I have even grown to like the fact that I have big muscly athletic thighs and I like the way my triceps stick out a little and I think that my face shape is pleasing. I inherited some nice lips, I have grown to love my nose and ears and even am a little thankful that I have to dye my mousy brown hair because its a great way to express my creativity. I have shapely (large) breast which I sometimes complain about, because they do become a nuisance, but I wouldn't change them too much, even if I could. I love that I'm strong in body. I love that I can walk and ride a bike and that I found an exercise program that I like, and that I have the energy to chase after my peanut and that I can play.

But I don't focus on the great parts of me. I focus on what I loathe, and then the loathing consumes me and I loathe the whole package. I've always been amazed by women who, while not ascribing to society's beauty box, manage to pull off looking terrifically confident and sexy.

And I want that. I want to be confident and assured and beautiful and sexy just being me, and not feeling like I have to cower behind society and not feeling like the fat on my consumes my joie de vivre. And right now, because I'm feeling challenged on my weight, and I can blame my weight for the infertility (which may or may not be the problem), and the infertility thing is so volatile right now, I'm hating these extra 60 pounds so much that I'm hating myself.

Perfect

Poem: "Perfect," by R.T. Smith, inscribed "For Jerome Ward," from Trespasser © Louisiana State University Press.

Perfect

Preparing the salad,
you said the word perfect in botany denotes a species
bisexual and self-sufficient,
while we cut carrot roots,
inflorescence of broccoli, the ripened ovaries of olive
and the bulb of the red onion.
Every seed, you said, holds an embryo inside.
It's all so simple,
and we call plants primal because they survive
without devouring one another
and often work their
increase alone.
Still, we never envy the spiral of cabbage leaves
or a potato's albino eye,
as perfect comes from the Latin for complete,
and we prefer this process of emerging,
two imperfect men happily whittling dinner for their loved ones,
as windblown pollen dusts the windows,
our bright knives clicking on the board.