Having a Classy...

AHH!! I LOVE THIS! Futbol is my first love and it is one that I am certain will endure.

fuckyeahfifa:

ifitmoveskickit:

Above the border, Canadian footy blogger Richard Whittall is just as fed up with the American Exceptionalists as your hostess here at IIMKI:

“What I want to tell you is that if you’re American and you don’t care about the World Cup, I really don’t give a fat steaming shit about it. The apoplexy of those not in the soccer know asking what it will take for America to really, really finally oh pretty please just love soccer already is now just about more grating than the forty thousand vuvuzelas I sometimes dream are in my closet. The piercing, droning noise is coming from all sides, both here and England for some reason, who seem obsessed with the idea that their gimpy little cousins might finally take to their Best Sport in the World if the Yanks make, oh I don’t know, the quarterfinals.”

Treat yourself and read the whole bloody thing, because there’s so much more, such as this: 

“You know who else doesn’t give a shit if America loves soccer? MLS.  And, thank Christ, American soccer fans. Even so, soccer will continue to be played in America by Americans, it will continue to be watched on American stations by passionate Americans packed in American bars. Soccer will not rescind its citizenship because Glenn Beck thinks it’s gay. And it doesn’t care if you think it’s low-scoring, boring, features lots of diving, that the vuvuzelas are loud and what’s the deal with Ronaldo’s stupid face etc. etc. etc. It doesn’t care if you think it’s terrible compared to the Best League in the World, or that you don’t know who Gooch is supposed to be.”

I won’t bore you with the details because they are silly. But there are certain lessons to be gleaned from these shenanigans.

1. Do your shit. DO IT. GET IT DONE. If you are paid to complete a task, do it. Promptly. Without drama.

2. Don’t do my shit. Just do yours. See Rule #1 for clarification. 

As employees, particularly for this firm, we are required to work as a team. When one of us drops the ball, someone else must pick up the slack. You have to look me in the eyes. Remember that as you depart an hour early for lunch or ignore a student request or fail to mail a certification. If you promise something or it is part of your job description, do it. Please re-read Rule #1 and allow it to marinate.

This is a lesson that we should have all learned early in life. Yet I feel like accountability, like chivalry, must be dead. However, I am marrying a man that is quite chivalrous (didn’t know I would enjoy it as much as I do) and so you, dear co-worker, can figure out the simple lesson at the core of Rule #1.

…it is difficult to live with someone who is a talented singer. Every time he showers, I am reminded of my inadequacies. Or, alternatively, I am treated to a daily concert. It, like so many things, is a matter of perspective. 

…and I am challenging myself to do this.

The goal: 100 push-ups.

To be accomplished with 6 weeks of training. It’s tailored to various levels of skill and fitness. Guess where I rank?

The outcome: Awesome, Madonna-style arms. Or, alternatively, improved upper-body strength and the pride that I did something totally awesome.

So the story goes:

Tiffany Gail Williams is awesome.

Tiffany has cancer, and that is not awesome.

In the summer of 2009, Tiffany was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma (nodular sclerosis type, or NSHL). She spent the second half of her year being poked, prodded, and filled with chemicals via a creepy medi-port, and, somehow, she kept her positive attitude.

We all thought Tiffany would be footloose and cancer free in 2010. Unfortunately, Tiffany’s doctors found more nodes. The plan is for Tiffany to spend the second half of this year, too, in treatment. This time, however, she’s getting more intense treatments. Each chemo treatment will keep her in the hospital for two weeks, and she’ll be in for six weeks when she has her stem cell (self-)transplant.

Crazy, right? But you know what is even crazier? She wants to keep working while she’s in treatment. Tiffany works for the Break the Chain Campaign at the Institute for Policy Studies; the campaign works to prevent and address the abuse and exploitation of migrant women workers through holistic direct services, leadership training, community engagement and survivor-driven outreach and training.

To continue working, Tiffany needs a new MacBook Pro to replace her ancient iBook. (It has outlived its contemporary Windows-based PCs by eons, which is why we’re sticking with Mac. Besides, that’s what Tiffany asked for!)

So here is how it works, dear readers. Click on the link above to be redirected to Tiffany’s donation site. Make a donation. Anything helps…do what you can. If you make a donation over $10, I will personally bake you something delicious (or as close to delicious as my skills will allow) and send it to your door. So you can help someone that clearly deserves it AND enjoy a homemade baked good. Awesome, no?

Anthony and I were having a “discussion.” Anthony, FTW with: “Listen, I just thank we are readin’ different books of the Bible” in a Southern Belle voice. You can’t argue if you’re laughing. 

I am baking a red velvet cake for a co-worker and had a mini-revelation. 

I just realized my entire kitchen, for the most part, has been stocked by my future mother-in-law, affectionately referred to as Momma Renaud. I see our burgeoning family history in each item, in each use. She is with us as we bake fresh bread. She was there as we roasted potatoes for our first Thanksgiving. She is here, with my beloved Kitchen Aid mixer, as I stir dyed-red batter for extra cash to fund our future lives. I took a step back and realized that the people we love are all around us. I see Rosa, whose postcards adorn our walls. I see my grandfather’s artwork and am reminded of his legacy of creativity and intellect. I spy Lucier and Erin on my bookshelf and my mother, who is everywhere and always will be. Our pasts, the present surround this tiny corner of Riverside and this brings me immense comfort. Living thousands of miles away from those that love you (despite your bullshit) can be difficult. But I can see that you are all here and I am joyful. 

Lucier, is this better?