Statistics...

I went to visit Lisa, stylist extraordinaire, recently. As she was weaving color through my hair, she observed that, of every ten hairs she raised, four were only two to three inches in length. It's regrowth, she explained to me, from what I lost after JJ was born. Four out of ten, friends, is a statistically significant number.

Forty percent of my hair is regrowth... I lost almost half of my hair!

To everyone who thought I was "imagining" my hair loss: HA!

Progress

For over a month now, the story has been the same. Recruiters abound have repeated their mantra: "Your resume is fabulous, Mr. Lynk. With your wealth of experience and your willingness to relocate, we should have no problem placing you immediately - if not sooner!" And then he waits. And waits. And waits.

And the depression starts to get old, so he tries a new emotion... anger. He becomes angry with all of the recruiters and their promises of gold and rainbows. His own personal mantra becomes: "Whatever. I'll believe it when I get to talk with an actual company." (After hanging up the phone, of course.)

John is a hard worker, and he is damn good at what he does for a living. But a company can only see so much on paper - and he has to make the "paper cut" before they'll talk with him. History has shown that once they talk with him, they (almost) always offer him the job.

After six grueling weeks, the moment of truth has arrived. John has a phone interview - WITH AN ACTUAL COMPANY - next Tuesday. And thus begins a new cycle: Hope and pray. Hope and pray.

Genetics...

My father admitted to me recently that he spent most of my formative years convinced I was going to meet an untimely death due to choking. He told me that I would shovel an entire fork/spoonful of whatever into my mouth, chew twice, and gulp it down. It terrified him.

Fast-forward a few (okay, many) years, and I'm still here... watching my young son shove an entire handfull of Gerber puffs and Cheerios into his mouth... and swallow.

I know what you mean, Dad.

Progress

We've been watching the news this afternoon... I feel a little sick at the idea of capitalizing on others' misfortunes, but I've suggested to John that perhaps he should start looking in Southern California.

Progress

John has decided to try a new tactic. He is contacting former employers to see if they are currently hiring. I don't know why we didn't think of this idea earlier. John has an excellent history with every company for which he has ever worked. He's a great guy!

Nice...

All of our problems are solved!

I received an email today from the Federal Republic of Nigeria Committee on Foreign Payment. It appears that I am the beneficiary of $6.8 million - there was a settlement on a contract, and I'm next of kin. I should have received my payment earlier, but somebody screwed up my file. Everything will be taken care of now however, as President Umaru Yar'Adua is laying down the law around that place. I know everything is official because they gave me a secret code to reference in all correspondence: 307 (please keep it a secret). They will send me a check just as soon as I give them a whole bunch of personal information.

And I didn't even know I HAD relatives in Nigeria!

Progress

I just had an amazing experience with a recruiter who is interested in John. She told me his resume sucks. If that was all she had said, I would have immediately donned my defensive gear and headed into a (no doubt) losing battle. But she didn't stop there. She proceeded to explain to me not only why John's resume sucked, but also how to fix it. We spent probably a half hour on the phone discussing how it could be improved to make John a more marketable potential employee. So he can get a job. And the forboding black cloud above us can be lifted and we may once again see the sun. If you'll pardon the continuing metaphor, our ray of sunshine today is named Lisa.

Thank you, Lisa. And if we're ever in Phoenix (and the possiblilty seems to be getting stronger all the time), we owe you dinner.

Tangent

I absolutely love my son's Bumbo. I have hooked up the tray and used it as a highchair while we were on vacation. When we go camping, I sit JJ in it on top of the picnic table so he can see everything (and because I know it's clean). John likes to put him in it and sit with him on the couch to watch TV. Ultimately, I love it because it is like a small baby prision. He cannot get himself out of it... yet. Does that make me a bad mom?

Loyalty...

I was in a department store today, and found a huge display full of Ravens apparel, and I started to think about whether or not I should be a fan. I mean, how do you choose? Should I be a fan of the team closest to where I grew up? Or in the state I went to college? Or is where I am currenly living the most important factor? Should I take into account the teams my family members support? Or does John's favorite team take precedence now? I hate the thought of being a fair-weather fan who just supports whichever team is most likely to win. I guess I could choose a favorite player... but what if he is traded? Do I still side with the original team, or does my loyalty make the move as well? Perhaps I should learn from my friend Terry's husband. When I asked her once how he became a die-hard Chief's fan, when he has absolutely no other ties to Kansas City, she just shrugged and replied: "Bob likes red."

Progress

Or maybe I should say "lack thereof". John is starting to stress about things a little. Me too.

Sweet...

No matter what he's doing, between 7:30 and 7:45 every night, John drops everything and comes up to our bed. There, he hangs out with JJ and I to read a few books. Then, he and JJ snuggle for a little while before I put JJ down for the night. John is such a great Dad.

Progress

I gave John's resume a makeover today - so if he doesn't find a job now, it will be my fault. No pressure!

Junk...

We had a yard sale today. It was not exactly the wildly successful endeavor I was hoping it would turn out to be. On a more positive note, as it turns out, I am actually a pretty good judge of what is junk.

Dreamy...

I love checking on JJ in the middle of the night. Although I always put him down to sleep on his back, each time I go in to check on him, he's in a different position. Sometimes he's just completely turned around, facing the opposite direction. Other times, he's turned over on his belly. Once, I found him in a sitting position, laying his head on his crib bumper. And tonight, he's wrapped his little body around his fuzzy bear "G". So, once again, I gently try to return him to his back without waking him. I guess I'm a bit partial, being his mom and all, but he is the most adorable little boy ever. Sleep tight, little one.

Thought

How far will a crab travel for a hot dog?