If you're not first, you're last.

For the first time ever, I submitted a web design for approval from my bosses.

That was Friday. The lesser significant of the two men immediately responded with "it looks great. Nice upgrade." The more significant of the two didn't even look at the design until yesterday.

All weekend I was nervous -- wondering if he'd like it. If he even cared. Then, as I walked passed his office on the way back to my desk yesterday afternoon, he beckoned me, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "excellent work. When can we see this up and running?"

If I told you I didn't jump just the slightest bit off the ground, I'd be lying.

Once it's on the world wide web, I'll post a link for those interested in looking at it.

Special thanks to everyone who helped me along the way:

Patrick -- whenever I needed help on any of my assignments, you were just a phone call away and always knew how to fix things.

Ryan -- you've been a guiding light through this learning process for a long time now. I'm so grateful for you and your infinite expertise.

Comments

Jessica Nelson said…

OH my gosh! Congrats! That's too cool. So you know how to design stuff? If I ever get published, maybe I can hire you to design my website? :-)

February 26, 2009 at 10:58 AM

Someone busier than you is running right now.

I have a confession to make to my spark buddy, Melissa: I did not go for a run last night. I'm terrible, I know. Here's what else I know: 1. I have never made such great progress in getting into shape as I did when I was jogging regularly. 2. My knee starts to stay in a constant state of noticeable discomfort after I've jogged for over a week. 3. I miss the liberating feeling of running. 4. I miss the empowerment of cross-training (biking, swimming, running) So I've been perusing the intarwebz for motivational media this morning. And while I hate Nike for their shoddy work ethic, jacked up prices, and apparently tiny clothes, I love them for their motivational material. I just have yet to find any media more inspiring to me than the following advertisements. And ... "I am addicted. I've collected footsteps before dawn. Seen places I never knew existed. Run to the moon and back. Been a rabbit for the neighborhood dogs. Obeyed the voice in my head. Let music carr

The heat is on...

I've got to admit, now that people are actively involved with following and commenting on this blog, I feel pressured to write legitimately interesting stuff. Some things that peeve me: 1. I typically don't complain about misspellings of my name, but after three years, my co-worker still doesn't know my name is spelled with one L. Whenever he writes a message for me, he directs it to "All-" ugh. Initially I thought, maybe this message is for ALL of us. Wrong. It's specifically for me, he just doesn't know it only has one L. And I bet a million pesos he also doesn't finish spelling it out because he doesn't know it ends in i-s-o-n. I mean, it is a tricky name after all. 2. I went grocery shopping yesterday. I had a list of five things to get in Publix: dog food, dog treats, Gatorade, wine, toilet paper. I came out with 15 things (I counted because I wondered if I could squeeze into the express check-out... nope). I came out with 15 things -- NONE of

603.

I never told you this story, but when I was a three, I had to have physical therapy for a broken femur. Every single day we drove to PT, we went over a small, fairly insignificant overpass with had a shopping plaza below it. The address for the shopping plaza was just barely visible over the bridge. And it was 603. And every single day as we went over, I would excitedly blurt out the numbers to show my mom I recognized them. This turned into a game for us. And eventually, a tradition. Fast forward into my "more grown up" ages ... like ... high school. And, if you could be a fly in my truck, you would have without a doubt witnessed me driving over the overpass by myself and, sure enough, I'd just say it ... "six oh three." Shortly after high school is when I met Seth, Tommy, Leif, Troy, and Jonesy in Gainesville. Still, there was no connection. Their friends and families came to visit, we then bonded, they returned home, and still, nothing. It wasn't until th

never fully-clothed or intentionally misinforming

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