Because I Want to Win

...and I never win anything. The other day I won all kinds of life points while playing Life with my daughters, but in real life, when money and prizes actually changes hands, I am the one who throws the losing ticket in the trash, grumbling about how I never win.

This is me—entering a contest to win books in the Teeny Manolo sweepstakes.

Note: I didn't win. I told you so.

Comments

dive said…

What a strange competition.
I do so hope you win, Robyn.

11:20 AM

Neponset River Bridge Dig said…

Celebrating the joys of parenthood? When I'm done clenching my fists I'll celebrate.

11:51 AM

Mrs. G. said…

Good luck, Robyn. I'm pulling for you. I hear you have a one in twenty-three chance. Good odds.

12:30 PM

Anonymous said…

oh, shut up about never winning.

you always win.

leave some luck for the rest of us.

and some talent, too.

4:14 PM

Anonymous said…

There's a great line in a play I saw recently:
"I bought lottery tickets every week for ten years, just to PROVE I could never win."

We shall see...

raincoaster

7:00 PM

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Scout Moves

Search This Blog