I met Tony Baloni while working on an audit, up north in the Chicago area. I had a question about accounts receivable, and one of his coworkers pushed him off on me. As I approached the man's cubicle, I wasn't struck by anything out of the ordinary, and yet, I was about to meet a man so full of personality, one can hardly write the words.
When I spoke his name, Tony didn't even look up. He continued to talk to me with his back facing me for several moments. When he found out what I wanted, he acknowledged it with the slightest of phrases, and then proceeded to calmly finish the task he was working on before proceeding to track down my papers.
Tony's cube was more the cube of a college professor than an accountant. He had binders and books stacked everywhere, but there was a distinct feeling of oranization. As he got to work quickly and without hesitation, I noticed each binder, carefully labelled in bright colorful font. Added to the Far Side comic strips on his wall, I deduced that this was a man full of personality - although one would have to go far to find how far that personality reached.
Turning back to me, Tony explained the documents he was about to give me with a voice that sounded as though it belonged in a 1960's spy drama. To the point. That seemed to be the way he ran his life.
I'm sure when I left, he got back to work, barely remembering that I had been there. And yet, I also am sure that if I showed up again, he would remember the encounter as well as I did.
Tony Baloni - quite a character. :)
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Fun Times in the Hotel
Just so you know, I write this with an Irish accent, due to the manager who is on rotation from Ireland that gets his beautiful accent stuck in my head all day.
So on Sunday night the fire alarms went off in my hotel - this was right after I had acquired hypothermia on the architectural river tour of the city. Pictures later. Anyway, I was kind of paranoid that something in my room had started it - my takeout was too smoky? One of my appliance was plugged in and sparking? Well it wasn't me. I don't think it was anyone really. There wasn't smoke. Not even a fog machine! :)
Anyway, I have now found another reason to fear that a fire may be caused in my room - my bed! last night I was moving about after I had gone to bed, and I saw little flashes of light. They got worse the more I moved about. I finally discovered what they were - my bed has three wool blankets on it, and combined with the dry air, they were rubbing against each other and sparking! I could even hear the sparks and everything.
So then I spent a couple of minutes sitting up in bed slapping down my blankets wherever I could, just to watch the fireworks show! Astounding!
So on Sunday night the fire alarms went off in my hotel - this was right after I had acquired hypothermia on the architectural river tour of the city. Pictures later. Anyway, I was kind of paranoid that something in my room had started it - my takeout was too smoky? One of my appliance was plugged in and sparking? Well it wasn't me. I don't think it was anyone really. There wasn't smoke. Not even a fog machine! :)
Anyway, I have now found another reason to fear that a fire may be caused in my room - my bed! last night I was moving about after I had gone to bed, and I saw little flashes of light. They got worse the more I moved about. I finally discovered what they were - my bed has three wool blankets on it, and combined with the dry air, they were rubbing against each other and sparking! I could even hear the sparks and everything.
So then I spent a couple of minutes sitting up in bed slapping down my blankets wherever I could, just to watch the fireworks show! Astounding!
Friday, November 2, 2007
Makeup and a Smile
Whenever I want to feel pretty, or on the 6th, 11th, 18th, and 23rd of each month, whichever is closest, I put on makeup. I apply sparingly or generously depending on what I'm doing that day, and I try to make my impossible hair look better than usual. And, while I've only had about a 33% percent success rate, it often works (makes me feel pretty).
See, we've discovered that what we find attractive can often actually be confidence rather than real beauty. And if makes me feel confident about how I look, that feeling will show on the outside, too.
Whenever I want to feel pretty, I wash my face. Take all the makeup off. I see myself the way I am almost every day of the year. For some reason, I have found that the day after my makeup day, I feel even better about myself than before! I don't know if perhaps some of the makeup hasn't come off (you know, less is more). Perhaps it is the confidence that has not worn off.
But I have another theory. I see myself for me. I see the real me, and not the fake one. I remember all the reasons that I don't regularly wear makeup. And I do have confidence in the fact that I can walk outside without painting my face and face the world with my true colors.
I guess we are all vain creatures. My friend once told me that we all think we are good-looking to some extent. I contended the opposite. And I think we're both right. We all have flaws that we see more than others. But at the end of the day, we like to make ourselves look nice, and we all believe that it is possible.
Now, superficiality has long been a struggle of mine. In an effort to avoid it, I think I have delved into it farther than anyone else I know. And I still struggle with it to some extent.
But the truth is, makeup or not, when I look in a mirror, I can choose how I want to feel about myself. If I am confident, it shows. If not, people will view me the same way I view myself. So I smile and do something to get the blood flowing to my face. And I'm ready to face the world!
Whenever I want to feel pretty, I smile. A lot. :)
See, we've discovered that what we find attractive can often actually be confidence rather than real beauty. And if makes me feel confident about how I look, that feeling will show on the outside, too.
Whenever I want to feel pretty, I wash my face. Take all the makeup off. I see myself the way I am almost every day of the year. For some reason, I have found that the day after my makeup day, I feel even better about myself than before! I don't know if perhaps some of the makeup hasn't come off (you know, less is more). Perhaps it is the confidence that has not worn off.
But I have another theory. I see myself for me. I see the real me, and not the fake one. I remember all the reasons that I don't regularly wear makeup. And I do have confidence in the fact that I can walk outside without painting my face and face the world with my true colors.
I guess we are all vain creatures. My friend once told me that we all think we are good-looking to some extent. I contended the opposite. And I think we're both right. We all have flaws that we see more than others. But at the end of the day, we like to make ourselves look nice, and we all believe that it is possible.
Now, superficiality has long been a struggle of mine. In an effort to avoid it, I think I have delved into it farther than anyone else I know. And I still struggle with it to some extent.
But the truth is, makeup or not, when I look in a mirror, I can choose how I want to feel about myself. If I am confident, it shows. If not, people will view me the same way I view myself. So I smile and do something to get the blood flowing to my face. And I'm ready to face the world!
Whenever I want to feel pretty, I smile. A lot. :)
Thursday, November 1, 2007
More Fairy Tales
In celebration of the month of November, and probably for all future posts, I have decided to make my titles just plain normal titles. This actually could be quite fun, because I believe that a really good title is truly everything!
I would like to add another saga to my fairy tale:
In the mighty fortress of Doom Mansion, there is a legend of a crown - a crown with 12 jewels on it. Many eons ago, the jewels fell off the crown, and were lost in the labyrinth below the castle. However, as legend has it, when all 12 stones are reunited with their crown, the person who wears the crown will have great power indeed, and restore sunshine to the kingdom, giving Doom Mansion a new name.
As as squire for Knight Andi the Maroon, I was sent on a quest to discover the 12 jewels and reunite them with the crown, sitting in the glass case far above in the Great Hall. After months of searching and wading through mud and battling trolls and ogres, I finally had managed to find 11 of the stones. My Knight had been tragically slain in a duel with one of the ogres - the duel that left me with the eleventh jewel.
As I trudged out of the muddy pit, tears and mud streaking my face, I heard a voice, and squinted into the ill-lit labyrinth. "Who goes there?" I called.
"I am Sir Adam the Brave! Squire - give me those stones." A man stepped into the light, dressed in a sparkling silver suit of armor.
"But, Sir, I have these 11 stones. I need the last stone to give to my new Knight."
"I am your new Knight. You will obey me. I have the last stone, and I wish to give all 12 to the Prince at once."
"So with my 11 jewels, so goes my glory." I stated.
He drew his sword with a swift motion, and before I could react, the cold steel blade was pressed against my neck. I flinched, but did not back away. To the left, I heard a shuffling of feet, and looked to see the bold Marshall of the Knights coming down the stairs that led to the entrance to the labyrinths. He stopped to watch, but said nothing.
"The jewels, squire! NOW!" Shouted the knight.
Having no choice...I slowly reached into my pouch, giving up all hopes of ever truly becoming a Knight Performing Magnificent Gestures...or whatever. All 11 jewels fit snugly in my hand, and I opened it, ever so slightly for the knight to see.
In another swift movement, he had lowered his sword and taken the jewels away. Now, my emotions were running high because of the loss of my former Knight, and it took everything I could muster to choke back the sob that rose in my throat.
And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, something changed on the knight's countenance. I know not what he saw to soften his heart. Some say that all 12 jewels, when united, give the owner a sense of goodness. Maybe he just had pity on me, as he watched me standing in the dungeon - muddy face, muddy hair, muddy clothing, and trembling with fear, cold, and emotion.
But the Knight gave me the slightest nod and held out his hand again, this time dropping all 12 stones into it. "Go," He nodded toward the Marshall, still standing in the stair, now with a smile playing across his lips, "You've earned it."
So, with a new spring in my step and a renewed faith in my Knights and their valor, I held my head up high, and ascended the stairs, onward - toward the great hall - one step closer to victory.
I would like to add another saga to my fairy tale:
In the mighty fortress of Doom Mansion, there is a legend of a crown - a crown with 12 jewels on it. Many eons ago, the jewels fell off the crown, and were lost in the labyrinth below the castle. However, as legend has it, when all 12 stones are reunited with their crown, the person who wears the crown will have great power indeed, and restore sunshine to the kingdom, giving Doom Mansion a new name.
As as squire for Knight Andi the Maroon, I was sent on a quest to discover the 12 jewels and reunite them with the crown, sitting in the glass case far above in the Great Hall. After months of searching and wading through mud and battling trolls and ogres, I finally had managed to find 11 of the stones. My Knight had been tragically slain in a duel with one of the ogres - the duel that left me with the eleventh jewel.
As I trudged out of the muddy pit, tears and mud streaking my face, I heard a voice, and squinted into the ill-lit labyrinth. "Who goes there?" I called.
"I am Sir Adam the Brave! Squire - give me those stones." A man stepped into the light, dressed in a sparkling silver suit of armor.
"But, Sir, I have these 11 stones. I need the last stone to give to my new Knight."
"I am your new Knight. You will obey me. I have the last stone, and I wish to give all 12 to the Prince at once."
"So with my 11 jewels, so goes my glory." I stated.
He drew his sword with a swift motion, and before I could react, the cold steel blade was pressed against my neck. I flinched, but did not back away. To the left, I heard a shuffling of feet, and looked to see the bold Marshall of the Knights coming down the stairs that led to the entrance to the labyrinths. He stopped to watch, but said nothing.
"The jewels, squire! NOW!" Shouted the knight.
Having no choice...I slowly reached into my pouch, giving up all hopes of ever truly becoming a Knight Performing Magnificent Gestures...or whatever. All 11 jewels fit snugly in my hand, and I opened it, ever so slightly for the knight to see.
In another swift movement, he had lowered his sword and taken the jewels away. Now, my emotions were running high because of the loss of my former Knight, and it took everything I could muster to choke back the sob that rose in my throat.
And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, something changed on the knight's countenance. I know not what he saw to soften his heart. Some say that all 12 jewels, when united, give the owner a sense of goodness. Maybe he just had pity on me, as he watched me standing in the dungeon - muddy face, muddy hair, muddy clothing, and trembling with fear, cold, and emotion.
But the Knight gave me the slightest nod and held out his hand again, this time dropping all 12 stones into it. "Go," He nodded toward the Marshall, still standing in the stair, now with a smile playing across his lips, "You've earned it."
So, with a new spring in my step and a renewed faith in my Knights and their valor, I held my head up high, and ascended the stairs, onward - toward the great hall - one step closer to victory.
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