Have I ever mentioned how Joe and I participated in a Darvin Furniture commercial? We got a $50 gift card (now expired) for discussing how much we loved Darvin. I was about 5 months postpartum and looked like Mrs. Claus.
That commercial first aired during Oprah. It also continues to play at the furniture store on a perpetual loop near check-out. We occasionally get phone messages from friends buying furniture:
"Hey, guys! We just saw you at Darvin! You two could not be bigger dorks! LOSERS!"
Yeah, I pretty much assumed my 15 minutes of fame started and ended with that commercial.
That was until today. My sister and I are in the Wall Street Journal.
Because when the epicenter of world finance seeks a unique story, it naturally comes to the author of this blog for inspiration.
I am practically a water nymph.
So please have a read. Leave a nice comment. Tell your friends.
My 15 minutes have officially been expanded to 27 minutes. I am still shooting for a full half hour before I die.
Also, be sure to "like" the wonderful reporter who didn't seem the slightest bit annoyed as she conducted our interview during school pick-ups. While I yelled at my kids and battled poor cell phone reception, she still was able to put together a concise story of sibling rivalry (see my take on the interview here).
Her name is Elizabeth Bernstein and she is an extremely talented and patient writer.
In the meantime, I will begin work on an entry about hanging out with a Wall Street Journal photographer while my family noshed on corned beef and cabbage. Maybe a week-long series would be better?
Thank goodness for the good friends and readers who can remind me about all this excitement when I'm in the home, drinking geriatric Mike's Hard Lemonades and wondering why I never lost the baby weight.
I blame the Girl Scout Cookies.
There are only a couple of days left to vote. Plus, I I look bloated in The Wall Street Journal. Take some pity on the fat girl.
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