I always told Hayden I thought she’d someday own a business.
I still believe in that. She just has that enterprising spirit, that quiet assuredness to get the job done. Today’s #GirlsRock spotlight falls on a woman who started her own business and gave it her name.
Meet Amber Lorine, the graphic designer behind Amber Lorine Design.
She also works for Rezenerate as a graphic designer. Today, D in the #AtoZChallenge is for designer. (I can be clever like that, and it’s a good way to get this interview in. We finished it a couple of months ago!)
I’m gasping for air a bit in all this #AtoZChallenge hubbub.
Hypothetically, of course. While the entire universe shares its tales of the letter E, I toil away, seeking bits of time to steal to write my C post. And it’s essentially written for me, thanks to today’s guest poster, Courtney, of Blog Me This.
Thanks for the lift, C.
So Courtney is along for the ride as my C-train ticket. She writes a wonderful blog, but even more crucially, she’s an unshakable blog friend who will shine through for you in your darkest or most blog-less and snack-less moments.
Note: This is part of an occasional series about my journey to find a job.
This is a story about a boy.
This boy has a story to tell. He hasn’t been allowed to tell it. Then, he thought better of telling it. Because it’s a story about losing a job and feeling lost and helpless. He usually tells stories of enchiladas and bad-ass soccer girls.
But he’s standing here now, wearing a hair net and smelling of bulk scallops, wondering who he is right now.
Only, that thought lasts less time than it takes to bag up a pound of scallops (or wrap a whole salmon without dipping your sleeves in salmon slime.) When an employer tells you you’re unfit to write any more, out of the blue, you can do one of two things:
Like, big-time. Like heartburn after 1 a.m. hot wings. Like your first gray eyebrow hair. Not that I know anything about that. One minute, I’m searching for Tums, and the next, I’m reading my friend Tamara’s Facebook post about her first post.
So, without officially signing up, and without a theme reveal post, and without, really, anything that even smells like a plan, I’m off. Two hours, 15 minutes from Day 2 of the challenge (it’s already tomorrow in Australia, so I’m way behind already.)
It’s hella fun, as the kids used to say. (Some kids. Somewhere.) So, when I shot out the prompt for this month’s 6 Words post (which actually went out in 2017, but it’s taken me a while to post), it wasn’t easy to come up with an answer.
Every month, I ask friends, bloggers, strangers and strange blogger friends a question that they will answer in exactly six words.
Ernest Hemingway inspired it when he asserted that any story could be told in six words. The prompt for this month: If you had to pick someone to be you for a day, who would you want it to be, and why?
A sweet woman approached me in Target on a Saturday.
Can you tell me where your St. Patrick’s Day stuff is? She asked. That moment, we realized that today, actual St. Patrick’s Day, that the St. Patrick’s Day parade in uptown Charlotte was probably almost over and Charlotteans were likely already tipsy on green beer.
We trekked to the front of the store in search of something green to get this girl to stand out – or blend in, depending on your view.
We’d sold out of all things Kelly Green already. I gambled waiting til the last minute! She said as she shifted to Plan B, and I had a feeling this brown-eyed girl was going to be just fine. See, I know all about pushing deadlines, envelopes, carts before horses …
No, not the ones with January Jones and bacon cheeseburgers, although those are also everything. I’m grateful for my kids’ dreams, the ones of becoming a vet tech or playing college soccer or getting a kickass role in the school play.
Hayden has a chance to play at the next level and is fortunate enough to have choices.
We visited Wingate University today and I think there were some love sparks. They invited her to an ID camp this summer. She’d stay on campus for several days and be immersed in college life there.
I am hoping just as hard as I do about the Colorado Rockies or free pizza or running into Hope Solo in the self-checkout at the Harris-Teeter in South Park. (I will come up with something witty to say. I just know it.)
I’m grateful for the chance to interview at this awesome company and I have some good news to share soon about it.
After my 10 things to be grateful for, I’ll answer some of my daughters’ random questions. Three deal with sports, which is a monumental surprise. One could have been a blog post on its own, and the last one is one of those, “huh, so that’s why” sort of deals.
It was opening weekend of the NFL playoffs. A Saturday devoted to watching the Titans vs. Chiefs, then the Falcons vs. Rams turned into a day of peek-ins to each game whenever we could. Soccer matches and toting kids about cut into viewing time.
Sunday felt much the same – only the games had changed.
And by the time I’d finished a themed dinner for the main event of the day – the hometown Carolina Panthers matchup against hated rival New Orleans Saints – both games were in the books. And it wasn’t a good look for the home team.