A Different Sort of Eye Candy

I never get tired of forwarded e-mails with cute animal photos. Even if I have already received a particular one, when I open it again it's just as I had never laid eyes on it--laughing, smiling, calling others over to look hoping they will share my enthusiasm. You'd think I was just describing a five year old there. Luckily, I surround myself with others who share this interest. Ha, who do you think sends me the emails?

Anyway, I've compiled a few recent favorites here. No matter what kind of mood I'm in, one look at any of these puts a smile on my face. I hope they'll put one on yours, too.

The first is from a series of animals in funny situations. The second is none other than Logan Shupe Earl. The third I pulled out of a Patagonia catalog, and it now hangs outside my office. And the next two document an unlikely friendship.

The Fall of the Movie Theater Experience? Say It Ain't So!

On my way to work this morning I heard this story on NPR about how the decline of DVD sales and our demand for all things technologically convenient has sparked Hollywood's consideration of direct-to-home movie releases. That concept is rightfully a concern for the livelihood of the world's movie theaters. To that I say, WHAT???

I can live with managing much of my life online. It does in fact seem much more efficient. I'm clearly okay with keeping up with friends and family via social media. My DVR is liberating! I enjoy the convenience of drive-thru services. But take away my movie theater experience? No way! That...and any sort of robot-type item (like those vaccums that move around the house on their own. Come on! Haven't you seen Terminator).

The whole experience of the theater is irreplaceable. A big tub of buttery popcorn with just the right amount of staleness; the people watching; the huge screen and surround sound (plus that cute little Dolby promo before the movie starts); the crowd reactions. I love a good movie at home myself. But you can't experience a movie amongst strangers there--which is half the fun.

Theater going is timeless, too. I can remember Granddaddy telling me stories about being an usher, when it cost 10 cents to see a "picture". Where else would young adolescents get their first "arm around the girl's back" or makeout session? Date night wouldn't be the same. Just think of all the memories you have attached somehow to a movie theater.

Sure, movie-going gets expensive. But it could be even more costly if people don't line up for the box offices to help fund these huge budget special-effects movies we demand. My point? I believe some things were just meant to stay "old school". Here's to hoping Hollywood and we technology indulging folk can come to an arrangement that means movie theaters stay!

"Everybody's Workin' for the Weekend"

Today is my reward after a long, busy week. I'm spending the day in my "sweats" writing, armed with a warm cup of coffee and a spaniel by my side. The snow is really coming down, too! It's beautiful + coziness galore! The only thing missing is a fireplace (crap!).

Charlie's working. An unfortunate side effect of his ski industry job. But he loves it, and it gives me some quiet time to work...and to pick up some awesome TV marriage tips. For example, today on the Hills, Heidi wants babies. Spencer doesn't. So while she plots and threatens to go off "the pill", he visits a urologist to discuss a vasectomy. Now that's the kind of communication lasting marriages are made from, huh?

Aside from the occasional reality TV diversion, our days have been particularly busy lately as Christy Sports gears up for the ski season. People don't want to buy ski equipment for some reason unless there is snow on the ground. So today should be good. During the Winter, I work one evening a week with Charlie at the shop. More if I'm needed. We've had sales clinics every night this week led by various ski and snowboard reps where we learned everything we ever wanted to know about K2 Snowboarding, Volkl skis, and Marker bindings. Sometimes we even score a cute little t-shirt, hat, etc. It's fascinating stuff, just a lot to take in.

I don't mind the added work time. The people are great, and it's a nice switch up from my "day job." Plus, the extra little cash stash (emphasis on the little) affords our ski pass, coat, and sunglass splurges (p.s. I absolutely love my ginormous new Oakley Forsake shades! They are soooo too big for me. But I don't care). That's been an adjustment for both of us with marriage--justifying "needs and wants" with one another since it all comes out of the same pot.

I'm also working on an article for House Calls magazine. My article in the Fall issue covered reconstructive foot surgery. My first byline as "Jessie Earl"! This time the focus is a new mastectomy procedure that can save a woman's own breast tissue for more natural-looking results. I get to interview some pretty extraordinary physicians and surgeons, which can sometimes be an adventure. This week, for example, I pretty much got "worked" in my interview. In fact, I am not so sure I was leading the interview at all. Instead, I just took notes as the surgeon spoke quickly with enthusiasm about his area of expertise and then told me "he had to go". He even laughed at one of my questions. Learned a thing or two there about adjusting my interviewing tactics.

 You know I never set out to have so much of my work focused on healthcare. But I love it! Being a details gal and all, I learn new things as I research and write that can benefit me and my family down the road.

I Only Cover the Most Burning Questions: What Animal Lovers Can Do With Their Hairbrush Hair?

Since college, every month or so when my hairbrush fills up with hair I have used and abused, I toss it out in the yard hoping a Mama Bird somewhere will want to use it to make a nice, cuddly nest. The vision of that playing out just gives me warm and fuzzy feelings. It's a little tip I got from my dear sweet friend, Anna. You see, like me, Anna is a devoted animal lover, and all species are welcomed. When we first met in high school she told me I looked like a butterfly. She once supported my desire to turn the car around coming home from the mall to go look at some baby chicks for sale. And while we were roommates we had a house full of animals and took in a few lost ones here and there. I digress. One day I saw her go out onto our front porch and toss her hair onto the tree hanging over the railing. As soon as she explained her rationale I was sold! I've been throwing my hair all over the place and never going back to check whether it had been picked up by my target customer (birds--any birds!).

Fast forward to this past Monday morning when Charlie and I headed to the gym. I dropped off a furball  as we headed to the car. But this time I was feeling a little more ambitious. I wanted that reward of knowing my hair had a home. Charlie, used to this sort of thing just said, "For the birds, huh?" Yep, I said, getting excited already about checking to see if it was missing when we returned from the gym. I was certain my offering would be a hot commodity as Winter approaches. To my dismay, there was the furball, untouched when we returned. I moved it to hang from a tree branch sure it would be more "marketable" there. Tuesday morning I left for work realizing mid-way through my commute that I had forgotten to check on my furball. I called Charlie immediately, and asked that he do the deed for me. I will admit I had high hopes this time. My sweet husband didn't question it. He looked out the window while I remained on the line while he delivered the news, "No, it's still there. But don't worry, a little bird will get your hair," he encouraged.

I'm sad to report that a bird has yet to desire my hair. In fact a storm has rolled in and probably blew it off who knows where. However, I've discovered my knowledge of mother nature is quite lacking. I have since learned via Anna (and her Mom) that the birds are likely waiting until Spring to make their nests. However, a beneficiary I didn't even consider might be interested right now: Granddaddy Long Legs. Anna has already made one South Carolinian "Daddy" happy this Fall (pictured above-thanks for the photo Anna). So there's hope for my hair. Although Anna does have quite nice, long, luxurious hair I am sure any animal would want.

In the meantime, through a quick Google search I also learned that this recycling hair thing isn't that weird at all. Human hair--and Logan hair too--can be used in the garden to keep pests away and help plants thrive. It can also be used for gross things like spinning yarn for a sweater, stuffing cushions, children's toys, and even soy sauce! Yuck! I also discovered an old superstition that if a bird uses your hair to soften its nest, it will bring you bad luck. Logan and I are taking our chances. We'll be stocking up for Spring for all the hair-wanting, nesting birds.

"Sorry Doesn't Mean Squat"

It's day 2 of me blogging.  My friend Spencer (a blogging veteran) offered to save me from making lots of unfortunately ugly amateur blogging mistakes by giving me a quick lesson. Result? A better understanding of placing my photos and a fancy new Twitter Feed. And though I don't think I'll be a regular, daily "poster", I figured I would give it another shot.

What's on my mind? The fact that I noticed today how often I say, "I'm sorry!" It's pathetic really. I'll say it if I step on your shoes, if I feel like I have bored you with my stories, if I feel bad for something that happened to you, or sometimes even if something isn't my fault--I was just around. It just comes out involuntarily. Even worse, I think it much more than it actually comes out of mouth. So I am sitting here wondering just what could be the root of this "disability." Because, come on, it's not polite. It's just weird.

The irony of it all is that my father raised me under the tenet that "sorry doesn't mean squat". I can hear it almost as clearly today as I did at age 8 or so (though I called him to confirm to ensure we wasn't publicly misrepresented). "People don't care about how you feel, Jessica, or that your real sorry." It was a cop out he said, for those who messed up to move on without a worry. His lesson was that you should reserve those words for times when you really meant it. Times when it was really necessary. If overused, it means nothing. But most importantly, if you are truly sorry, he taught, prove it with your actions! Daddy is full of wisdom like this, and most of the time he lives by his words, too. I valued his lesson then, and I still do today. So why didn't it stick? Well...then there's the other half of me. My oh so sweet, constantly appologetic, bleeding heart mother. She doesn't mean anything negative by her repeated use of "I'm sorry!". It's just in her nature, and so too, I guess it's in mine...but with a little twist.

I don't think I am bound to a lifetime of using sorry even though it "doesn't mean squat." There's hope for me. But it'll take some work.

Hellllooo Blogosphere! It's Me, Jessie!

I’ll admit it. I’ve been putting off writing this for quite some time now. There’s a lot of pressure for the first ever blog post, you know? It’s quite odd, really, since at this point I have no readers, but I will, I hope. I’ve procrastinated my prose by working on a “cute blog name”, and even making a header for it (which already reveals a lot about my obsession with things looking pretty). Oh, and that reminds me. Props to my buddy, John Snell, for the header background design. It was actually a wedding Save the Date design castaway. Glad I have a place to give it some love. Finally, the blank space on the left side of my newly-designed blog space bugs me more than worrying over what to write. So, here goes.

Why I’m Blogging...

The better question might be, “Where the hell have I been?” The fact is I’m very, very late to the blogging scene. But I love reading other people’s blogs, enjoy writing, and have friends and family scattered all over the place with whom I’d like to share. It just makes sense. Plus, all cards being on the table, I work in PR, and blogging is becoming increasingly important in my profession.

What I’ll Blog About...

Your guess is as good as mine at this point. As the blog title “Ramble On” indicates, I make no excuses about the fact that I sometimes ramble. It’s just how my mind works. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy writing. It allows me to take my sporadic thoughts and try to morph them into more comprehensive sentences. I’ll post pictures, discuss life experiences, things I learn, things I love (insert ANIMALS!!!)…err don’t love (insert pet peeves). My writings will likely evolve as I do. My blog probably won’t be funny, though. I’m just not funny. Don’t get me wrong, I love to laugh and have fun with the best of ‘em. But I’ve been accused of being serious much more than funny.

Who I Am

If you’re reading this, you likely know the basics. So we’ll skip that and go with possibly more interesting facts. I am newly Jessica Lynn Shupe Earl. In August of this year I married the man of my dreams, Charlie (you’ll hear a lot about him). Then we went on a super-fabulous honeymoon to Grand Cayman Island. I was excited to be an Earl, but not quite ready to lose the Shupe. So in true Jessie “have your cake and eat it too” fashion, I just kept all my names. The Social Security Office seemed to be fine with it. But everyone else I’ve noticed is not. The world just wasn’t designed for people with two middle names.

I'm 26 (nearly 27), and live in Salt Lake City, Utah in a cute little ‘50s rental home. I love the place in all its tiny charming glory. But I want a place of my own so badly—one with a dishwasher! We have the cutest cocker spaniel in the world named Logan (you’ll hear a lot about her, too). She’s (yes, Logan is a "she") kind of a brat.

I have a weird thing about saving boxes—any kind of boxes. I always think I’ll do something useful with them later. Charlie is helping me to “let go”. In fact, I threw some away today. Also, I hate wooden spoons. You know that feeling some people get when they hear nails on a chalkboard? That’s the feeling I get when I touch a rough, splinter-filled spoon. I like sleeping in…like, really sleeping in ‘til noon or so…despite the social abnormality of that habit. My favorite meal is breakfast.

I love music—rock and heavy metal in particular. If you read my blog title and thought of Led Zeppelin, we’ll get along quite nicely. Every time I eat chocolate, it ends up somewhere on my face or shirt. I worry too much. I wear pretty much every emotion right on my sleeve. I love details. I chose the font option "Georgia" for my blog just because I liked the name.

Well I am exhausted from this little cathartic exercise. But if you’re still reading, I’m excited about this! I hope I get better at it and more succinct along the way, too.