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It would be ironic if I started this blog entry with the words, I hate technology - wouldn't it? But honestly that's how I feel right now. I was messing around with the blog earlier this week (still trying to figure out how to link to previous entries) and I had the option to change to a "new and improved" way of adding photos. Since adding photos to a post is basically what I do each week - I thought, "What the heck - I'm all for new and improved ways of doing things - let's go for it!" But now with the clock ticking and my photos all over and weird sizes I'm kicking myself that I didn't stay with what I know. Come on - staying with the old tried and true is what a used furniture store is all about, right? Who needs new when there is perfectly good used. Though the theory works well for furniture (especially the wonderful furniture you'll find today- Friday - from 1 to 8 and tomorrow - Saturday - from 9 to 4 at Jubilee Furniture) it doesn't work as well about things like technology where improvements and changes really do make things better and often easier (though I currently am not experiencing the better or easier part right now).

Oh my crap - you would not believe how frustrating this is! I'm going to try to label the photos that I managed to upload and publish this post and be done with it! I'm so sorry - I thought I was getting pretty good at this - but I feel as dopey as when I first started this blog over a year ago (and here is where I would link to that first pathetic post IF I knew how!). I have two options - to cry (which you know I'm very capable of) or to laugh - which makes me smile just writing it because it reminds me of one of my favorite stories about my daughter, Abby.

Right before Abby's 3rd birthday I enrolled her in park district class that met once a week for one hour. Abby - like a lot of kids that age - was fine once she got into class and I left - but wasn't thrilled about me leaving each week. A couple of weeks into the class as we were driving there and Abby was getting all teary-eyed, I explained to her that she had two choices: she could cry, or she could remember the fun she has once she's there and not cry (seriously these are pretty much exactly the words I used - I'm weird, I know it and I'm okay with it). Abby's response? "I choose to CRY!" she wailed at me. I laughed then and I laugh now remembering my little peanut girl.

So, dear reader, though I'm tempted to choose to cry - just in solidarity with my three year old Abby - I won't. I choose instead to forge ahead and let the chips fall where they may (or the furniture photos and their labels in this case).