I've just returned from getting new shoes on my buggy. It wasn’t all a waste of time though. I met Liz; a big brown-eyed, Cajun (Louisiana born) white woman that is a 2nd degree black belt, an ex-cop and knows more about cars that I could ever hope to… plus she’s a Granny, web designer & PC mechanic. I told her if she’d change “her parts” I’d marry her. We both had a knee slappin’ laugh on that one. I saw this and thought of you… sounds like good grant lingo for some IT solution of other… “organizations must have dynamic, actionable intelligence based on one version of truth.” Don’t you just love that? I do. What good is data if an organization cannot mine it to help make good business decisions?
Ladies shouldn’t have to traipse about at night looking for buggy shoes… or pump gas… or wash cars, but that’s my Daddy’s fault for making me believe that, “real men drive trucks;” and various other tales. Thanks for offering your services for the future. I would totally give you props for being the hero in my distressed damsel scenario. It was very kind and very real-man'ish of you to offer.
I think I’m writing you right now because I’m thinking about you and all you mean and will mean to my world. Thank you for letting me play in yours. …getting back to work now since I just spent 3 non-productive hours (except for getting the needed tires and meeting Liz, of course) at the shoe store.
sign: Lorrinda (while having a LorrindaSM)
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