10 Things. 10 Thoughts

I’m doing the 10 Things on Tuesday…err… thing again!

1. Yesterday, I replied to an email that didn’t require a response for the sole reason that the sender spelled my first name as “Rachael” when the email was in reply to my email and my name was right there in front of him as he typed. I have a long and complicated last name and I had a long and complicated maiden name… so I get it when those are misspelled, but of all my names, “Rachel” is so incredibly easy not to screw up. Don’t worry, I didn’t reply to correct him, just so that I could sign my name on the email correctly.

2. I like this picture. (Is that conceited because the picture is of me?)

3. Do you write down recipes that you make up even when they’re really simple? I whipped up a really easy dish and Brad insisted that I write it down in order to make it again. Continue reading

Why I Blog

Why I Blog

If you’ve read my About page, you know that ProbablyRachel was started when I received the advice in college: Write every day.

ProbablyRachel has grown and changed over the past few years (along with me), but at the end of the day, this little corner of the world is my hobby and I love to write, read, share and be inspired by the blogosphere.

That’s the “in-a-nutshell” answer to the question that Katie posed for her link up at He Calls Me Grace.

Why Do You Blog?

I decided to dig a little deeper though and finish an abandoned post on why I bother to blog about having diabetes. If you’re curious, read on…

Why I Blog About Diabetes Continue reading

Friday Five: Spam Chronicles

Like most bloggers I get spam. I have occasionally had legitimate comments end up in my blog spam so I scan before deleting.

Recently my box has gotten a little more interesting, along with the offers to increase my Google page rank and cheap medication (but none for cheap insulin? Why not folks?) I’ve received:

  1. Offers for spy equipment. Like bugs I can put in pens or phones. Apparently my covert operations need some high-tech help.
  2. In the same day I got sequential comments on the same post: “Excellent article…” said the first. “You should bring more clarity to your writing to better explain the topic…” said the second.
  3. My favorite so far was this: Hi, I’m a scammer. Visit my website (link). I absolutely appreciate the honesty and the afternoon laugh.
  4. “Justin Bieber” commented on my blog….
  5. I’ve gotten more than 100 spam comments on this blog post. I have no idea why.

If you can’t get some enjoyment out of the crazy schemes on the internet, why bother?

This weekend we’re celebrating the marriage of another set of wonderful friends! What are you up to?

Related Posts:

Friday Five: Links

Friday Five: Human Behavior

Friday Five: My curse

I wanted to be an artist

I feel like there are some common questions that everyone gets asked at some point in their lives. This is definitely one of them:

What do you want to be when you grow up?

In various stages of childhood, the answer changed. The first answer I remember giving though is artist. I feel like most children at some point in time decide this. I enjoyed drawing, painting and coloring (I was probably about 4 at this time too) and my masterpieces ended up on the refrigerator. I look back and laugh now, especially since I work with some really talented graphic designers, who prove that it takes more than liking the feel of a brush in your hand to make something beautiful.

My desire to be an artist gave way to wanting to be a cashier or a secretary (also at a very young age). Knowing these professions as an adult I can pinpoint why I wanted to be a cashier or secretary… I almost exclusively saw nice, pretty women doing these jobs and decided that I needed to be a nice, pretty woman when I grew up. Children don’t have contact with the wide array of career options early in life. They know what and who they see. I was talking with a friend who is a teacher and she was discussing how to apply the subject she teaches to her students lives and future careers. She made the comment that her students only really know of a few careers: doctor, teacher, lawyer, nurse… the ones that get Halloween costumes.

I got to know a few more professions the older I got and my answer to “what do you want to be when you grow up?” changed to writer, then photo journalist, then editor, then journalist, eventually to news anchor and eventually I settled into public relations when I was in high school.

Each of those options had some roots in things that I enjoyed doing… like writing, speaking and taking pictures. Strengths that ultimately help me do what I do [and love] today.

It’s interesting that I never wanted to be an engineer like my dad, or be a teacher, lawyer or doctor. For a fleeting moment I considered politics…

What did you want to be when you grew up?

I dropped a glass

After things were finally dry enough outside, Brad mowed the grass. While he showered, I cleaned up the clippings then launched a last minute assault on the morning glories and other assorted weeds that were taking over the shrub out back. It was warm and muggy outside so when I came in I was craving a nice glass of iced tea. 

A finger stick found me at 82mg/dL so I grabbed a couple of pretzels and poured the two of us some nice, cold iced tea and settled in the living room. When I picked up the glass for my second sip, it slipped out of my hand, bounced off the corner of the coffee table (shattering) and sent tea, ice and glass everywhere.

The sound of the glass falling and breaking frightened Holmes and Watson out of their standard afternoon naps and they ran away from the sound… then in their frenzy ran back across the glass (that had somehow managed to send shards flying nearly across the room) to hide behind the couch. Brad sprang into action, grabbing his slippers and the trash can, then tried to capture the cats and take them upstairs. In the chase process that I watch while helplessly trapped on the couch, the cats both ran through the ice/glass/tea mess a total of three times before being successfully wrangled into an upstairs bedroom.

Hurts worse than it looks

After ascertaining that my leg was bleeding due to a cut from falling glass and not a piece lodged in it, we cleaned up the mess. Brad asked me while searching for shards in the carpet, “Was it low blood sugar?” For all of the annoying, frustrating and inconvenient things in my life that I can blame diabetes on, this was not one of them. This was a sweaty glass in an unstable hand.

I cleaned up and bandaged my leg then checked the cats’ paws. Both of them were fine but still scared. Watson still hadn’t come downstairs over an hour later even though Holmes has resumed his nap right where he left off.

In other news, I revamped my About Rachel page… it was probably time.