Fiercegrrl Fund

Raise your hand if you like to ask people for money! Raise ‘em high so I can see 'em! Yeah, I’m not seeing a lot of hands. Sure, you could argue that it’s because I’m sitting alone in my cubicle typing these words but we all know that even if we were sitting in a room together there would be few hands raised. Fundraising is hard and it is even harder right now because there are so many people in need. We all know people who have lost their jobs, people who have no health insurance, people who can’t make ends meet for whatever reason. These are tough times and nobody likes to ask for money but (you knew there was a “but” coming, didn’t you?) – I’m going to ask you for money. I’ve been asked to get the word out about the Fiercegrrl Fund. Go here and read about it and then come back. I will wait. Don’t be sneaky - I will know if you didn’t read it because there will be a quiz.

…Vikki kills time by taking pictures of Hammy…

Are you back? Ok…I lied about the quiz and I know some of you are a little disappointed. Ya big bunch of overachievers.

Anyway, I don’t know Nicole and I don’t know Meaghan who set up the site for her friend but I do know that people are generous and want to be helpful. So, what am I asking of you?

I’m asking you to help by doing one of the following:

1) Donate money to the Fiercegrrl Fund (click here to donate) 2) Donate something to be auctioned off on the site (click here to donate an item) 3) Bid in one of the auctions (see the blog for auctions as they arise) 4) Spread the word via blog, Twitter, Facebook or Bat Signal (grab a badge on the main page of the blog)

You are an honorable bunch and don’t need external motivation but I’m gonna sweeten the deal for you. If you donate money or an item to be auctioned off, I will enter you in a drawing to win a prize. That’s right people – another Up Popped a Fox giveaway! All you have to do is donate and then send me an e-mail with some sort of evidence…like a receipt or confirmation e-mail…not evidence like DNA or fingerprints or mysterious microfibers mounted on a slide. See your non-body fluid evidence to:

vikki@uppoppedafox.com

Luisa…tell them what they’ll win!

Luisa? Hello? Luisa?

Alright, Luisa and I haven't had a chance to consult on a prize yet but I assure you there will be a good prize, modest but good. I'll get back to you on the details.

Spread the word and remember that any amount helps and all of the money goes directly to Nicole. So...pass it on...

From the Horse's Mouth

Sometimes, you need to stop and really see what’s right in front of you. I mean this literally, not in that “smell the roses” way because everybody is always telling you about the flowers but no one ever tells you to watch out for escalators. See, the escalator was broken today and I had to be really vigilant because when an escalator is not moving you realize that the risers are freakishly short and if you are not paying attention you will look like a Clydesdale on a Stairmaster and we all know Clydesdales are always drunk on Budweiser which means that it would not be a pretty sight at all. I was pretty much an Escalatory Gazelle today but the other people? Drunk Clydesdales. I never look more graceful than other people so I would like to thank all of the Drunk Clydesdales for making my day. Unfortunately, for every day like this, there are a million others when I have poked myself in the eye, hit myself in the head with a door, or tripped on carpet or uneven concrete. Here are a few of my clumsy moments:

• I once hit myself in the forehead with the claw end of a hammer.
• I learned the hard way that using a metal guard rail as a balance beam is a very bad idea.
• I fell while showing off on ice skates, forcefully inserting the rear tip of the skate blade into my own rear and giving me unique insight into the phrase “ripping someone a new asshole”.
• I tore my ACL playing rugby and by “playing rugby” I mean running across the practice field and stepping in a hole.
• I broke my knee cap slipping on a patch of ice.
• While getting in the car, I managed to ram the pole of the bike rack into my eye.
• When Miguel was 2, I decided to teach Miguel how to jump out of a swing. Instead, he learned that people can’t get up after they jump out of swings.
• In an attempt to show Miguel how to do the monkey bars, I rammed my head into the first rung and pinched a nerve in my neck.
• Remember the sledding incident? Yeah, there was that.
• Luisa badly burned the top of her shoulder making mashed potatoes a couple of years ago which makes me laugh every single time I think about it (Sorry, honey – I know it hurt but it is too good not to include it here). 

Feel free to add your own clumsy moments in the comments. For now, I'm going to enjoy my escalator victory because I'll probably fall in a well later today.

Have a great weekend!

Sad Surfer

I knew the day would come. Well, I imagined that the day would come but was a bit surprised when it actually came. I mean, I knew that I was doing something wrong and I knew that I probably shouldn't do that thing anymore but sometimes you just really like doing a thing and it's not really hurting anyone so you do the thing until it kinda becomes your thing and then when you try to stop doing it you realize that the thing has become a part of you and not doing the thing would be like losing one of your senses, you know? You have no idea what I'm talking about. Let's say you bite your fingernails and you know it's an awful habit but it helps you relax so you do it and tell yourself that it's not hurting anyone. Of course, there is no way of knowing for sure that your harmless habit is actually harmless. You could wake up one day and discover that every time you bite your nails a rabid raccoon crawls out of a sewer and eats a child. That would sure surprise you, wouldn't it? Why, yes it would. Actually, I kinda freaked myself out with that because I bite my fingers a lot so now I am wondering if I have unleashed a rabid raccoon army that is feasting on little kids. Well, let's not dwell. Back to our example. For the purposes of this post, we will assume that no one is harmed by your nail biting. Still, you try to stop but you realize that you can't because you have become a Nail Biter. It's become part of your identity. Now, people who love you might try to talk you into quitting. They might tell you that putting your fingers in your mouth all the time will lead to infections and death. At first, you find their concern endearing but it wears on you so you get an attitude and then you're like, "Infections and death? Bring it on!" and then you laugh maniacally and leave a trail of chewed nails in your wake. Then, one day you go to work and find out that they are firing people for biting their nails. You like to eat (real food, not just fingernails) and you like to have a roof over your head and you like to have money to buy Prescious Moments figurines and you are shaken to your core. So, what do you do? I'm guessing you stop biting. You probably chew a lot of gum. You probably drown your sorrows in Precious Moments figurines. But, you definitely stop biting.

You still have no idea what I'm talking about. I had a feeling that the rambling example wouldn't illuminate anything but it was sure fun. So, here's the deal - I had to quit surfing the net while at work. Those that know me (or follow me on Twitter) know that this is huge. This is like telling me that I have to hold my breath for 8 hours a day. I am no chimp. Every morning, I clicky click on that little warning box that says "Do not use your e-mail or the internet for personal use or we will come to your cube with a couple of burly guys and copy paper boxes and we will pack your shit up, drag you out of here and change the codes." Whatever. I agree to those terms, log in and then...ahhhhh...the internet. But last week, I found out that people have been terminated for internet abuse. I nearly started packing those boxes myself as I imagined a wanted poster with my face on it plastered all over the place. So, I did what most of us would do. I quit cold turkey and, yes, I chewed a lot of gum (seriously - my jaw hurts) and I drowned my sorrows in toys like this. Go check it out because there is a whole photo series based on that little guy. What can I say? I don't like Precious Moments figurines. That first day was horrible. There were about a million times that I had something really important that I needed to look up on the internet, important things like "Where can I buy a stuffed lobster?" I resisted. I was strong. I was miserable. I still am. It's like the end of Camelot...well, a virtual Camelot where the answers to all of my questions are at my fingertips and I am up on all pop culture news and I can chit chat with people online and find a stuffed lobster if I need one (and who doesn't need one from time to time) and I can look at cool shoes that I can't afford. All of this is gone now. It's like I've been stripped of my only superpower. Well, not the only one - I can still do that noodle trick.

It's the end of an era.