Unveiling The New Website

image With a sigh of relief, Executive Auto Broker, launched its new website. Or, as we now call it – Phase One. Which means only one thing…I have more work to do. Older versions of Internet Explorer have “issues” with the site, which doesn’t surprise me at all. We’ll work on that.

For about a year now I’ve been working with a friend in his San Diego based company – in my spare time. I’ve enjoyed learning about a different industry and wearing a different hat. Basically, I work in media services (aka Marketing). With the help of Rachel Hoffman at Orangepeal Design, we’ve changed the “look” of EAB and still managed to keep the boss happy.

I’d just finished reading a book by Steve Krug entitled, Don’t Make Me Think: A image (1)Common Sense Approach to Web Usability (New Riders Press, 2005, Berkeley), when the boss said it was time to give the website a fresh look. Actually, I’d wanted to get my hands on the website from day one, but I was patient. Hey…I was. The idea was to create a website with minimal words that still manages to communicate the essence of our business in a professional and fresh way.

image (2)While the website was under revision, I had the opportunity to sell my first car Рa Land Rover Freelander. It turns out the experience was extremely  beneficial. I got a chance to understand the whole process from start to finish.  And, as a result, I saw the website with new eyes.

My first client, my niece Amanda, loves her new car. The loan officer at the financial institution was so shocked by the low price, he thought the car was salvaged. Far from it. She paid slightly over wholesale and it’s a beauty.

If you’re looking for a pre-owned car in excellent condition, give ExecutiveAB a try. We’ll ship the car, free of charge, right to your front door. Use my marketing/ad code: LucyZoe on the Quote Form, on the website…and you’ll get a discount.

Meanwhile, I’m in my slippers, watching TV, working on Phase Two and the next email campaign, and resting my feet on the coffee table. Life is good.

Pain In The Neck

I’ve been getting adjustments at the chiropractor, and as a result, it’s got me thinking about pain. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not the adjustments that cause the pain.

Before I moved here, I was regularly getting adjustments to correct a problem with the bones in my neck. Long story short, when I was a teenager, a benign tumor was removed from between my ribs, and the surgeon who sewed me up, well, he must have missed a few anatomy classes. I’ve got stronger back muscles on one side, which eventually caused the other neck and back muscles to fight to gain balance. Why can’t they all just get along?

Anyway, after I moved here, I just stopped getting adjusted. And the pain came back. But for some reason, I learned to live with it. I’ve gotten familiar with pinched nerves. I’ve learned to move and sleep differently to avoid neck grief. Relieving the pain wasn’t a priority.

Why is it that we can ignore pain and become accustomed to it? And then, when it goes away, we seem to forget that the pain ever existed? I’m going to have to do a little research and get to the bottom of this. I’m fascinated. And for the record, I’m thankful for my new chiropractor and all the pain relief he’s bringing.

P.S. That’s not my neck x-ray. Just pretend.

Road Trip

Amanda called shotgun.

You’ve gotta love a road trip that requires a passport. Amanda and I are taking off tomorrow for Bellingham, Washington. No, we don’t need passports for Washington. We will; however, need them for Canada. Vancouver, B.C., baby. My good friend, Craig, is letting us hang out with him at his fabulous house. I’ve talked him in to a mini-trip to Grandville Island Public Market in Vancouver. I’m taking my camera because Mr. LaMoreaux has inspired me with all those Paris photos.

Amanda and I could both use a change of scenery and eight hours of drive time should sufficiently meet the need. Though spring has barely sprung, Stevens Pass is open and the weather looks like it will grant us a lovely little adventure across Washington. We’ll stop in Leavenworth just long enough for a cute attack.

My niece, Amanda, minus her look-alike (it’ll be strange without you Chelsea), is bringing DVDs for a little entertainment (I don’t know who she thinks she’s kidding. She’ll be asleep before we hit Spokane.) And…must needs be we both bring our laptops. She’ll want to stop for coffee several times, which as a result, will require several stops at gas stations, to buy gas, or not.

I’ve got an iPod filled with books and music, though I’m sure “the ban” is still in effect. I’m not allowed to listen to music on my iPod when others are around because, well, I find the need to sing. Loudly. Okay, and I dance, too. Yes, even when I’m driving. Hello! You can take the girl outta Rialto, but you can’t take Rialto out of the girl.

After a couple of days in Bellingham we’re coming home. We’re returning through Seattle and down through Snoqualmie Pass with a quick stop at the Glondo’s Sausage & Italian Market in Cle Elum. I’m bringing the cooler to make sure the soprassata. salami, and sausage, isn’t visited by Uncle Sal Monella.

Yes, Dad. I’ll drive safely. And Mom, I’ll bring back butter from Trader Joe’s. And Paula, I’ll bring back candles from Ikea. Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

Girls & Their Toys

shutterstock_62164For the last five years, I’ve had a good relationship with my Conair hair dryer. My previous dryer, also a Conair, lasted almost twelve years – I loved that old thing and was sad to see it go.

Just the other day I noticed an odd sound coming from it. Listen, when you’ve used an appliance for five years you get to know the sound of it. First it was a soft hum. It slowly progressed to a whiney buzz, followed by a clunking noise. And finally, the darn thing shook so badly I couldn’t hold on to it with one hand. I could tell a part had come loose, but my hair was really wet and, well, I haven’t left the house with wet hair since I was fourteen years old. So I held it as far away from my face as possible, for fear that a piece would fly out and stick in my eye, and managed to get most of my hair dry. My hands and arms were tired from fighting with it. Hey…a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

Last night I bought a new hair dryer. I stood in the aisle for fifteen minutes asking myself, “If they make the darn things to fall apart after a couple of years, shouldn’t you just by a cheap one?” Hello, it’s my crown. So I opted for a Conair –¬† known for hair appliances – and tossed my $23.50 on the counter. Actually, it was a debit card, but I digress.

So I get the thing home and inspect it. Oh My! It has eight more setting than my last dryer and two extra buttons. WeeeeHoooo! And it’s metallic red.

This morning, it took me twelve – that’s 12 – minutes to dry my hair. With my old dryer (may it rest in peace) it took me 37 minutes. I’m not kidding. Now, I’ve got my eye on the vacuum. Maybe it’s time for a new one. I’m just saying.

2,300 Pennies For Your Thoughts

Today I mailed off my $23.00 to the State of Idaho.

I don’t mind paying for things I use, things I value. I’ll pay $23.00 for a bottle of wine, DirecTv, police services, a leg of lamb, my car, a cookbook, fire fighters, cell phone usage, electricity, my mortgage, lunch with Gabe, water, and a few more things. If I can’t see where my money is going I’m hesitant to let go of it.

Here’s an idea. How about you let me choose where my taxes go? I don’t want to subsidize ash trays on submarines or an anti-drug program for the National Guard. I want the option to “Just Say No!”

And does anybody check that box on the tax form to donate $1.00 $3.00 to a presidential campaign? Who? How do I find out how much they make from that little box?

I stapled a money order to the state forms and mailed those pesky things off. The lady at the post office asked me why I only used one staple. She said, “if it was me, I’d put seven staples in it.” The thing is, I’m smart enough to know that irritating the tax person is an incredibly foolish thing to do. I sure wish I knew how that $23.00 was going to be used.

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Cookbooks

Eat Your Books