Roller coaster of good intentions, european chocolate, HBO, and skin care products

Today is Thursday. It is 7:24 p.m. Typically, I would be knee deep in the most hectic time of my day, dinnertime followed by bedtime. My husband and I both work full-time and have two young children. The minute I walk in the front door from my workday, I go into marathon mommy mode. The kids are beginning to transition from positive energy to frantic energy. I quickly whip up two meals, one for the kids (which has to be gluten-free) due to my youngest son's Celiac Disease and something for my husband and me.  Then it is clean up time, bath time, story time, and clean up time - again. Then there is peace and hopefully quiet - and if I am really lucky a Netflix binge session and a Ritter Sport chocolate covered biscuit to be savored.

My favorite 

Wednesday night was no different except that I agreed to go to a friend's house for what I thought was going to be our once usual pizza night with our families only to learn that the gathering was not our usual family play date but was going to be a launch party her new business as an Arbonne consultant. I had heard of the Arbonne brand and its business model through a co-worker who embarked upon selling these products to make extra money earlier in the year.

My friend profusely reiterated that I need not buy anything at all, but to allow her the opportunity to learn her business with the support of a few friends. Understanding this and in addition to the fact that I am consciously trying to save money, I felt little pressure to buy products.

In the less than two hours I spent at my friend's house, I offered to not only buy products with my next pay check, but I found myself offering to host an Arbonne party to help grow my friend's fledgling business and agreeing to schedule a call with the VP of Regional Sales for Arbonne to discuss my new part-time job as a consultant.

Although the VP that was training my friend was good at her job, I am also very impressionable, in a good way. I get excited about things easily, I get motivated very easy, and I often bite off more than I can chew - and then I get sick and throw up.

Initially, I fell for the allure of the savvy VP who drove a huge white Mercedes SUV, the green and clean product lines and the women helping women angle. I also fell for the $2,000 per month income that was promised to part-time consultants.  With my husband and I both working at nonprofits, the added income was an enticing option to say the least. Plus, I like white Mercedes SUVs.

When I got home from the launch party,  I attempted to tell my husband all about my new and fully imagined and very successful business, but he was too involved in watching the pilot of HBO's True Detective while hypnotically folding piles of laundry. Not to be deflated, I decided to do some research on Arbonne to determine if it was as wonderful and green a product as I was led to believe and to figure of this whole new business thing might actually be a reality for me.

Within seconds of my Google search, I came upon this blog post by Meghan Telpner. In this entry, Ms. Telpner examines the Arbonne's product line and explains that the products are not all that they are cracked up to and the company  (which is owned by a board of directors and who was founded by a man) is engaged in green washing. While reading the post, I could feel the air being sucked out of my unbridled enthusiasm and optimistic hope for a fancy and looming vacation. By the end of the episode of True Detective, I had decided to not launch my new business and hesitant about hosting a product party on my house, but I was intrigued by the HBO series and really wanted to eat a Ritter Sport.

My new binge series

No Crying At Work

Twice today I cried at work. Not sure why. Totally sure why.

Workplaces are not therapy sessions. Work is where we get paid to work. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we become friends with the individuals with whom we work everyday. In these cases we know when it is "OK" to let go and for this I am grateful.

It is late evening now, the boy is sleep and dinner is digested. I am feeling better. More optimistic. Hope-Full. I know that part of this reason is I am lucky enough to have cried at work today - twice and to know it was the right thing to do.

Just for Facebook

Cosmos. Wireless. Skinny jeans. Fives years behind each new trend you will find me strolling along - whimsically - slowly catching up to a now totally dated trend. Facebook - now apparently referred to as "Facelift" by the young'uns was no different.

Friends had been asking me to join Le Facebook for years. The students with whom I work were on it religiously. But, me. I was 'too kool for school' and resisted because I did not want to feel obligated to be social. Until recently.

I joined the cultural train that is Facebook about six months ago. It has been mostly underwhelming but kind of awesome in other ways. On a random December evening, I created an account - I guess I had been feeling kind of lonely because none of my friends were responding to my e-mails any more. It was as if noone used e-mail to communicate for social purposes anymore. I figured it was time I stop being an arrogant killjoy and join. Before I even clicked "submit" on my profile page, I had invitations to accept. Lots of them.

Now I had "friends". I was a little promiscuous at first - accepting any ol' friend request, even taking it upon myself to make the first move in some cases. I believe there were even "pokes" involved. I don't even know what this means - still - but it sounded important. Before I knew it Facebook was a part of my daily routine, like checking e-mail used to be. I enjoyed the banter from co-workers most of all. Odd, since we sit just feet away from one another but somehow it seems like Facebook was designed for co-workers to commiserate with one another and naturally, to gossip. To a certain degree, Facebook has brought us closer together - through recapping a particularly captivating "team" meeting or a commentary on "What No to Wear." Such online banter is so totally unprofessional, yet so totally vital to getting through the day.

However, as we all know, there are unattractive aspects of being a part of this online "community" we call Facebook, including the fact that all of a sudden I had way too many "friends" - ninety-something to be un-exact; and I started seeing all of these random posts about people needing cups of coffee in the morning, sharing symptoms about their hay fever, or being notified that they just joined a "I hate Caillou" group. What the ...

Gratuitous or not, this is exactly what we want in such an online community. This is what Facebook is all about - updating one another on the minutiae that is our lives. Some folks share more than others. Some, more passive: reading posts, viewing photographs, or posting a comment or two. Others kick the activity up a notch while providing daily updates. For me, these people make Facebook worth our time. They keeping us logging in for more. While I tend lean more toward the voyeuristic user - admittedly I have posted a "Happy Friday" or two during my tenure; but I truly appreciate the frequent posters and the gestalt they add to my day.

Again, it ain't all fun ... I am sure it has happened to us all, a friend or acquaintance from the past reaches out reaches out his/her mouse and clicks "Friend Request." Recently this happened to me with a woman from my high school days. While I was totally curious about what this former classmate/pathological liar was up to nowadays, I ignored her request. Guilt jabbed me every time, I clicked on the inbox where her request politely sat, staring at me (her profile picture was a cat). Respectfully I did not give in because I knew I had no intention of offering her true friendship.

On several levels I knew my inaction was the right decision but was recently reminded us this when a mutual connection shared that this same woman totally freaked out online - on Facebook. Apparently she began taunting her "friends". In what I would assume was anger derived from hurt, she posted for her "friend" community to see, "I am deleting you (from FB) because you say you are my friend ... but you do not comment on my posts yet when a 'popular kid' says the same thing, you respond to them. I guess Facebook is not for me."

Scary. Sad. Reality. Welcome to Facebook.