32 Things

Or, more accurately, almost 32 things. I’ll be honest, I didn’t complete five of the things on this list. And I’m not going to tell you which ones they were. But I still hope to do them someday!

1.     Go to an RSL game

Source: Uploaded by user via XANGO on Pinterest

2.     Hike to the Timpanogos Caves

 Not sure why I waited until my 30's to do this. And I definitely enjoyed the presence of the Buddhist monks along the way. It made the whole hike seem like a meditation.

3.     Get real chickens for Easter!

 Thanks to my mom for this one. Our six chicks are named Maggie, Rhetoric, Empress, Prim, Annie, and Peep. Who knew chickens would make your house the most popular in the neighborhood? Kids LOVE them.

4.     Try acupuncture

Source: acaom.edu via Gypsy on Pinterest

5.     Take my kids to Disneyland

6.     Take my kids to Legoland

7.     Get a Brazilian bikini wax

No image. Just ouch. But not having to shave on vacation? Worth it.

8.     Play golf

9.     Look for seashells on the beach with my kids

10.   Volunteer at a shelter for victims of human trafficking

11.   Buy a matching bra and panty set

12.   Wear it

13.   Visit Kennecott Copper Mine

14.   Graduate from college

15.   Practice Bikram yoga

16.   Read the Tao Te Ching

17.   Attend Brandi Carlile concert

She sang and I fell in love.

 

18.   Practice Antigravity Yoga

19.   Go to Sundance

20.   Try Indian Food

Source: favfamilyrecipes.com via Gypsy on Pinterest

Officially and formally addicted to Indian Food now.

21.   Visit a Buddhist temple

Not what I expected. But I still admire Buddhism.

22.   Submit a poem to a regional journal

23.   Submit a poem to a national journal

24.   Attend an art show for an artist I know

Source: etsy.com via Gypsy on Pinterest

 Bridger loves this print I gave him for his birthday!

25.   Go to the Provo Hot Air Balloon Festival 

 All fun and games until Darth Vader almost ate us. And even that was pretty cool.

26.   Attend Ray Lamontagne concert 

Best concert I have EVER been to. Every song turned me inside out. 

I have one question: Ray, will you marry me?!

 

27.   Vacation in Newport Beach

28.   Dress as Dorothy for Halloween

29.   Make my own ruby slippers

30.   Sew my Dorothy dress

 Ta-da!

31.   Complete the Chopra Center 21-Day Meditation Challenge

 Brilliant.

32.   Observe Lent

I'm pretty excited about the list I have created for the coming year. And I'm curious: what's on your list? Leave comments below and tell me the new things you're going to try before your next birthday!

Do It Anyway

I’ve decided that the workouts I don’t want to do are the ones that I need the most. I had plenty of reasons not to go for a run last night. I was tired and I had a lot of other useful things to do with my time. But after the boys were tucked into bed and fast asleep, I had that guilty gnawing feeling inside me, telling me that if I put off running, it was just going to get harder to make myself go the next day, and not only that, but the run itself would be harder.

It was after dusk and the weather wasn’t terrible, so I forced myself out the door. I rounded the first corner and came upon the cool, sweet scent of spring blossoms drifting through the air from the trees, and I felt a smile on my face, and I knew that I needed that run that night. I need to get used to running in the dark anyway because I’ll be doing my 2^nd Ragnar leg in the middle of the night. 7 miles circa 2am. Fun stuff.

It’s been a while since I’ve run in the dark, and I’d forgotten how meditative it can be. It was really different from the recent runs I’ve done in the daytime. I felt quiet and focused. I had so many thoughts going through my mind. When I started to feel tired, muscle memory kicked in, and my legs just kept moving for me. During the last mile I felt myself getting emotional (in a good, inspired way) and tears came to my eyes, under a starry indigo sky in April, feeling so grateful for life.

Good thing I went for that run.

Date Night, Party of One

I was way overdue for a haircut, and my birthday is coming up, so I decided it was time for a visit to Val. I’ve turned into kind of a cheapskate when it comes to haircuts since I stopped coloring my hair over two years ago. Which means that I usually pop in to the beauty school or the nearest salon running a special when my ends start looking straggly. And I openly admit that my last haircut was done by none other than yours truly.

My boys were with their dad for the weekend, so Friday evening seemed like a prime opportunity to attend to my shabby hair in Sugarhouse with my favorite stylist. Val has been making my hair look gorgeous since 2000. Every time I try to branch out and have my hair done by someone new, I always gravitate back to Val. He just has the gift. His salon has this really eclectic, chic atmosphere, and I love talking to him and I always walk out feeling like my hair looks like a million bucks. Friday night, he worked his magic again. I left with a polished trim and some seriously sassy bangs. Thank you, Val!

The night was still young. I was hungry and had some shopping to do. I did a quick brain scan of all the cool local eateries I knew of. Noodles & Co. Finn’s. The Soup Kitchen. Good options. But I was feeling adventurous and wanted to try someplace new. Like a flash, I realized: Omar’s Rawtopia. I’ve been carrying around a takeout menu from this place since 2009 and a chance encounter when I stopped in for directions. I was so impressed with the vibe and the menu (the place totally hits my health-nut-hippie bone) that I’ve carried it around ever since, telling myself that someday I would get around to eating there. But up until Friday, I hadn’t remembered to go there when I was thinking of things to do, or it seemed too far away because I was living in Utah County and hardly ever went to Salt Lake without my kiddos.

So Friday night, the timing couldn’t have been better. It was date night, and if there’s one cool place I would want to take my date to impress her, it was Omar’s. And I was impressed. Aside from a rather awkward initial greeting from the hostess/waitress, the whole experience was lovely. There were no tables immediately available, so I sipped on an Organic Herbal Tea while I waited and read over the menu. One of the gentlemen working behind the counter caught my eye, smiled, and said, “You look so healthy.” He may has well have said I looked like an angel, the way his words came out, with so much love. It felt like he had given me the highest compliment in the world. I thanked him and said that I try to be healthy. “I think it’s on the inside,” he responded. The he gestured to his face and said, “You have a glow.”

WOW. I knew Val was good, but not that good!

When I was seated at my table, in the corner by the window, sun setting, sipping the remainder of my tea, I had a very confident, sophisticated feeling come over me. Mature. I felt deeply grateful to be in a place in my life where I can take myself out on a date and be completely, comfortably single. It felt (feels) so good. This may be the first time in my life where I have felt this way for an extended period of time… like, beyond just one day or two.

I don’t know where it came from or how it started, and maybe those details aren’t important to identify. But from as young as I can remember, I had an overwhelming need to be in love, and a constant craving for someone to love me in return. I went from crush to crush. I wasn’t always in a relationship; in fact, I didn’t date a whole lot before I got married. I learned a lot about myself during those years of marriage, and after our divorce, I made a conscious decision not to jump right into any serious relationships. I knew I needed to take my time, both to allow myself to heal, and to get to know a lot of people and find out what I really wanted in a partner. And I think I have done a pretty good job of that.

But recently I realized that even though I’ve come a long way in the last three years, there was still a neediness in me. A feeling of being incomplete. And the very Friday that I was on my little date, I read this quote, and I pondered it while sitting at my cozy table in the corner window at Omar’s:

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” -Unknown

I’ve felt that way. That quote. It’s wistful and romantic. I think we have all wanted to believe at one point or another that there is someone out there who will complete us. But here I am, single, and for the first time in my life, I don’t have that void, that neediness. I have no desire to be off in search of my other half, or sought after by some person who I need to “complete” me. I don’t need to find someone to fill the void that is the need to be in love.

Instead, I’m living a life I can be in love with. Finding out what it means to be comfortably single. To not be in a relationship or on the edges of one, and feel totally at peace with that. Feel whole and complete, just me, on my own.

I had no idea it would be this much fun!

Dinner at Omar’s was delightful. Just reading the menu tickles me, because “love” is included as an ingredient in every dish. I ordered the Sweet Basil Salad/Raw Pasta combination dinner. I had already dug into the salad before I had the presence of mind to stop and take a picture. It looked like it had been prepared with love. It was fresh and flavorful and with every bite I could imagine my body soaking up the goodness, all the yummy nutrients, and sighing “Thank you” with pleasure.

 

 

I couldn’t help noticing as I ate that the man who had complimented me from behind the counter was walking around and talking to people like he owned the place. It occurred to me that he might be the Omar of Omar’s Rawtopia. And if that were the case, I wanted to thank him personally, because not only had he treated me like royalty, he runs an impressive little joint. My intuition was accurate. I asked Omar if I could interview him for my blog. He was happy to oblige, as long as I didn’t mind him preparing food while we talked. I stood across the counter and for five minutes, chatted with him about where he got the idea for a place like this.

Here’s his amazing story: Omar was a successful engineer with a great future ahead of him when his dad became very ill with cancer. In 2004 Omar had a vision, and after his father passed away, Omar decided to open a restaurant where healthy food would be available as an option to people in a world where everything has become processed and man-made. He wanted to give the gift of nourishing, sustainable, organic, raw food. “God’s food,” as he calls it. The restaurant has been in operation since 2005. Omar says his food, with the colors, textures, flavors, and nutrients, awaken the chakras and bring us into greater balance with the universe, allowing us to experience more harmony and love in our lives, and in turn, share that with the world. He teaches continuing education at the University of Utah. His recipes are both his own, as well as collaborations with his mom and some of his employees.

Omar said, “I’m an instrument, and this place is like a lighthouse that gathered all of us.” (He gestured to me, and himself, and his employees, and all of his customers as he said this.) I asked him if he had a message for my readers. He said: “It’s time for all of us to live in our hearts. Don’t buy into shame, guilt and blame. Just be yourself. The world needs you, exactly as you are.”

I walked out to my car, wondering at the stunning insights I had observed about myself and my life that night, and the way Omar’s words tied in so perfectly with my own thoughts. What amazing things can happen when you open yourself up to love and light. When you make the decision to love yourself. When you decide to stop envying other people and instead emulate the qualities you most admire in them. When you realize that you are the only person you have to live with all the time, and treat yourself accordingly. When you decide to stop hating your body and instead make peace with it. When you figure out that it is not someone else’s job to make you happy. When you take responsibility for your life, recognize that you are the one who created your circumstances, and you are the one with the power to change them.

I’m not telling you any of these stories about myself because I need you to know these things about me. I’m telling you these things because I hope that somewhere in my stories, something resonates with you. Something triggers you, gives you a flash of inspiration, helps you see yourself or your life or the world in a new way. “Every story is a love story.” All My Passions is about finding joy in life. I hope I’m offering you a place to discover that, and a place to learn, and a place to heal, and a place to find out how to love yourself the way you truly deserve to be loved. It might be the greatest gift you have to offer yourself and the key to having the happy, loving relationships you desire (and deserve.) I’m no expert, but this place where I’m at in my life? It sure feels good.

Anyway. If you haven’t figured it out, I don’t know how to tell a short story. It’s a gift and a curse for a writer. I polished off my Friday evening with my free birthday gift from Sephora, a new orange nailpolish, and testing out orange lipstick (supposedly that’s very “in” right now.) I couldn’t quite find the right shade… but I’m having so much fun dating myself, I just might have to tell you what happened the next day…

In another post.

Because this one has gone on for long enough.

Love Thy Self

There’s a lot of fear around posting this picture… insecurity, doubt, shame. People will laugh at me. It’s like I’m a kid again, or a teenager dealing with self-esteem issues.

Lucky for me, I’ve spent enough years learning to heal from those old emotional wounds that I can get past the scared (and a little scarred) voice inside me and look at the facts:

First of all, that is one adorable baby. I could coo over him all day.

And second of all, that woman in the photo? She’s kind of a stranger to me. Honestly, I look at this picture and I don’t even know who that person is.

I thought that was a unique way of looking at it, until I started talking to other people who have experienced dramatic weight loss (way more than I have) and they say the same thing: I don’t even know who that is.

I’ve heard that because of the way the cells in our bodies die and are replaced with new ones, we have a whole new body every seven years. Which means that sometime in the last couple years, the last part of the woman in that photo died. I’m a brand new woman. Is that amazing or what? And it’s not hard to believe, with all that I have been through, all that I have experienced, the things I have seen and done and learned. I left that old person behind a long time ago. I’m really, profoundly grateful for the part she played in my life. The lessons she taught me and the gifts she brought with her. I’m going to remember the good things and let go of the less-than-perfect parts about her. I was a size 16 in this photo. Now, on average, I wear between a 4 and a 6.

I started thinking about why sharing this picture triggered so much fear in me. What I realized is that I’m not really afraid of what other people might think about it. Because looking at the facts, I’m not the woman in this photo anymore. I’m someone who grew from her. And I’m really happy with who I am now. So it doesn’t matter what people have to say or think about her, because she isn’t me.

The more difficult thing to realize was that the most painful part of showing this picture to other people is my own judgment toward myself. All the emotion that I have attached to it.

And isn’t self-judgment ultimately the most painful kind to deal with?

I look at this photo and I see things no one else can. The way I felt about my body. The “deer-in-the-headlights” look in my eyes, because I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was so overwhelmed by being a new mother. I look at this photo and feel pain and compassion for myself. I’m the only person who knows everything I was going through at that time in my life. And I’m the only person who can grant myself forgiveness, let go of the past, and move on.

Source: Uploaded by user via Gypsy on Pinterest

The reason I wanted to talk about this today is that I need to follow up on what I wrote about in Breaking Through. I made a somewhat public commitment to my health and I feel like I owe it to my readers to know a little bit about my progress, because I received a lot of positive feedback from people who were motivated to change their habits as a result of my post.

Well, I hate to disappoint you terribly, but I’ve only lost a couple of pounds. Optimistically, maybe four pounds. I’ve weighed myself several times over the last six weeks. Sometimes every day. Sometimes only once every one or two weeks. The numbers have gone up and down and up again. Sometimes a few pounds in the same day.

But before you get totally discouraged and give up on me (or worse, yourself) let’s take a few things into consideration. Read on, my friend!

 When I decided to take my fitness plan to the next level about two months ago, I was doing something like this on the treadmill, about three times a week: a brisk five-minute warmup, followed by about 20 minutes of an alternating run/walk. Run for three, walk for two. Rinse and repeat.

Lame.

(Pause. I need to not be too self-deprecating, because the good thing here is that I was still working out, three times a week. A little credit where it’s due.)

So instead of “lame” let’s say “lazy.” Because I was capable of more, fell into a rut, and stayed there for a long time.

Now, after my recommitment to myself, I’m running a whole 5K. On the days that I run, I now also include a 20-minute core workout (you can never get enough abs, right?) And on the days that I don’t run, I try to do some kind of cardio with weights. I’ve also taken up Bikram Yoga. And let me tell you this, I made a passing reference to how much I love to get over to Bikram and “melt”… and that’s exactly the results I’ve been getting. I’m melting!

But you’ve only lost two pounds! You exclaim.

That’s what the number on the scale says. Let’s remember, however, that muscle weighs more than fat and takes up less space. 

Source: shes-fine.tumblr.com via XANGO on Pinterest

So last week as I got into the first five minutes of my run, I had to keep hitching up my pants because they kept sliding down. (Scandalous.) They wouldn’t stay put until I’d built up enough of a sweat for them to stick to my body. The bottom line is that my bottom line is shrinking. And I’m going to have to buy new pants.

And let’s also consider this: for my height and age, I realistically only had about ten pounds to lose in the first place. I wasn’t overweight. I was right within my target weight range. This right here is a reminder that your weight doesn’t (always) tell you how healthy you are or aren’t. A few weeks ago, I may have been a “fat” thin person. Now I’m less “fat” and more “fit.” I can tell by the way my clothes fit.

I really didn’t have to change my lifestyle up that much, and I want to stress that point here for anyone who thinks that losing weight or getting fit requires some kind of Olympian effort. I think a common fear and misconception is that if you want to have a killer body, it has to consume your life. I’m not saying I have a killer body. Not by a long shot. And sure, I did have to make some different choices in the way I spend my time in order to get a workout in. I made a goal to work out every day instead of just three times a week. I knew that sometimes things would come up and I’d have to skip a workout, and I was right. I’ve skipped a few workouts. But when that time came, I didn’t have to feel bad about missing a workout because I knew I had done it every day for three days before that. And the next day I was right back into my workouts again.

I’m still early in this process. I’m not looking for a quick fix. I’m working on a lifestyle change. When I start feeling bad about gaining a little bit of weight, or I talk to people who are struggling with their own weight loss, I pull out the picture at the top of this post to show them I’m living proof that you can go from a 16 to a 6. And it did not take me ten years, or seven years, or even five years to get there. Try three (and it would have been even less if not for another pregnancy during that time.)

Source: google.com via Gypsy on Pinterest

So if it takes me a few more weeks or months to get that killer body, that’s ok. The wait—and the work—will be worth it.

Easter

I didn’t want to go for this long of a stretch without a new post, but I also have this thing about writing stuff I am passionate about. Hence the blog title. So I have a few different posts in the works right now that are all pretty emotionally charged, and I’ve known for a while that today was the day for this one, and I’ve been waiting, waiting for it, meanwhile getting myself absolutely ready. ‘Cause this one is kind of a big deal for me.

Several years ago, I was standing in line (because this was back before self-checkouts) at the Sandy Library, a new mom, bouncing my baby boy on my hip. As I waited, trying to keep my almost-one-year-old child entertained, I happened to notice another mom in line behind me with what appeared to be a smudge of dirt on her forehead. The kids in line with her were older, maybe school-age, and moms gotta help each other out, so I politely said to her, “You’ve got a little mark on your forehead.” Because we all know how annoying it would be to walk around all day with something on your face and no one would tell you until you got home that evening and saw yourself in the mirror and realized you’d been all over town with it.

Well this woman laughed good-naturedly and said something like, “Oh, that. I know. Actually, it’s Ash Wednesday. We’re Catholic.” And then I noticed the little ash marks on her kids’ foreheads too and I felt kind of stupid not for knowing about Ash Wednesday. And she wasn’t offended that I wasn’t aware of it, and I don’t even remember what I said back to her, but I hope it wasn’t something lame.

Ever since then, when Ash Wednesday rolls around and I see it on my calendar, I think of that encounter. A couple years ago, I started hearing about people who aren’t Catholic observing Lent. Basically, they give something up like sugar or red meat or TV or whatever for 40 days, until Easter. And I thought that was pretty cool. And I thought maybe someday I’d give it a try. But last year I didn’t remember it was Ash Wednesday until it was too late, and I hadn’t thought of anything to give up. This year, it snuck up on me again, but I found a way to observe Lent. I made a few commitments to myself that seemed small at the time. It’s amazing how even little things can turn into hard things.

I’ve been writing a poem throughout this experience. I’m a little nervous about posting it on my blog because I’ve never done this before. It’s probably not much different than handing one of my poems out in class to be workshopped, or sending it in to a journal to see if it could be published. There’s just something kind of scary about putting a piece of your art, which is basically a piece of your self, out into the world. That being said, here is “Wednesday.”

Wednesday

Forty days fasting in the desert nearly

killed her, and she fell

asleep each night wishing

it were her last. Waking

each morning to face

another day lost in light, enduring

temptation in the absence

of God, far from the Promised

Land. Red mirages shimmering on

the horizon, a bewitched riverbed,

the crimson breath of lovers

doing penance.

Delilah wouldn’t cut

her hair despite the memory

and damaged ends. She avoided

human sacrifice, because one is

never enough. The oxygen grew

thin where smoke rings

glowed; she drew them in, too

numb to cry, except when

tears forced out before

she drifted off, limp

and cold, her hair strewn across

her face. The burn on

her right

foot scarred. The rest of her

wasted

away, melting

in the heat of day and shivering

through night under

a full season of grief, hunger

and losing games,

giving up the things she borrowed,

her kisses getting lost in the hollow of

dreams, while music kept

time with the soulless beating

of her heart, beating an emaciated

rhythm: ashes,

ashes,

we all fall.

These Shoes Weren't Made For Walking

A few weeks ago I noticed it was time for new shoes. Here’s what they looked like:

Not bad, right? But take a look at this:

I especially love the crack in the sole. I wonder how long I have been walking around with them like this? I thought back to when I bought these cute little Steve Madden shoes, and it really wasn’t that long ago; sometime early in 2010 before I went to New York. I found them on clearance (score!) at Famous Footwear and bought another pair in teal because they were so cute and such a good deal.

When I realized these worn-out shoes were only two years old, I wondered: How in the world did these get so beat up in such a short amount of time? And then I realized…

Not only have these shoes trekked all over the state of Utah with me, they have also raced around:

New York City

Washington, D.C.

Source: orlandodinearound.com via Gypsy on Pinterest

and Orlando, FL

D.C. and Orlando were back-to-back trips and I wore out my camera battery before I made it to Florida, so I don’t have any pictures of my shoes there, but I do have some really great memories of running through Downtown Disney in them in order to catch the shuttle back to the hotel.

I have worn these to church, important interviews, once-in-a-lifetime meetings, and on a handful of hot, sexy dates.

So these shoes and I have made some memories together. Truly. And it was obviously time for them to retire. I set them aside and made a mental note to add black peep-toe heels to my shopping list.

And then three days ago I was getting ready for a full day of dressy events. I had picked out a different, really fabulous pair of shoes to wear, and of course, could not find them anywhere. (I recently moved so I’m hoping that they’re packed away somewhere and will turn up eventually, because seriously, these shoes are fabulous.) But I had to find something to wear, and calling to me from the corner of my room were my black Steve Maddens, asking for one last dance.

Steve and I had a great breakfast at Tiffany, and that evening returned to City Creek Mall together for the Charity Gala. Not too long into the gala, I felt my right shoe struggling to hold it together, and decided it was time. Time to replace them with a new pair of black peep-toe heels. They’ve become a wardrobe staple. And the opportunity was ripe, in this spectacular new mall, checking out all the new shops.

Enter: Michael Kors.

Source: endless.com via Gypsy on Pinterest

I knew they were the ones the second I laid eyes on them. Lest you be misled, I am really not a fashionista, so the brand had less to do with it than the fit and the function. But designers are famous because they’re doing something right, and these shoes just looked and felt right. I told Mindy, the sales assistant, to ring me up right away and throw the old ones in the trash.

But as I stood in line in my new Michael Kors waiting to be rung up, I had a moment of panic, and rushed to find Mindy to ask her to bring my old shoes back and put them in the new box. I couldn’t wear them home, but I was truly proud of those shoes and the way we had worn them out together. I needed a proper goodbye. So Mindy pulled my old Steve Maddens out of the trash can at Michael Kors, and I carried them around with me all night, occasionally showing them off to others when they asked me about my exciting purchase. I really needed new shoes, and I couldn’t have asked for a better shopping partner than my old Steve Maddens.

RIP, Steve. Let’s hope Michael has just as much to offer.

Breakfast at Tiffany

Exactly two years ago, I invited myself to breakfast at Tiffany’s in New York City.

Today, Tiffany invited me.

 

As part of my job in recognition, I get to develop strategic relationships with other businesses. The team from Tiffany came out to Salt Lake City for the grand opening of their first Utah location, and during their stay they wanted to woo us with their Tiffany for Business option. I was incredibly impressed with their presentation, not just because I think Tiffany& Co. is dreamy, but because the sales team really did their homework before they came to see us. They had created a business profile for our company in advance, and were completely prepared to show us why we should do business with them. They definitely earned their right to be confident.

Our meeting has been in the works for a few weeks now, and last week a beautiful Tiffany-blue envelope made an appearance on my desk at work. My heart started beating a little faster when I saw the logo printed on the back, and I savored every moment pulling the invitation out of its shell. Tiffany sure knows how to make a statement: the invitation was “wrapped” inside another shell and tied with a white ribbon. I was squealing with delight over the whole presentation. Inside, a square white card printed with Tiffany-blue ink in Tiffany’s signature font invited me to a private showing and the first Breakfast at Tiffany at the new location. 

There was a great turnout at the event. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful, with spring on the way and a clear blue sky. We only got a small glimpse of the new mall, as they kept traffic contained to the Tiffany location, but from what I could see, it’s going to be amazing. The sun shining down into the open courtyards, the classy music playing in time with the orchestrated fountains... I wanted to sit there and enjoy it all day. Inside Tiffany, I recognized a few prominent Utah figures including Ed Smart and Miss Utah. She kind of stood out from the crowd though… tiaras tend to do that.

Here are the takeaways:

1.     Oh, how I love a company that understands good branding and sticks to it. Charles Tiffany knew this when he started the company 175 years ago. Kudos to the people who have carried on his legacy.

2.     I absolutely love doing business with people who are clear about their purpose and know how to come prepared. Not only is Tiffany the cream of the crop when it comes to product, they are also great at developing relationships and understand how important creativity and innovation are for the lifeblood of a business. They want to bring new ideas to us. The thought of collaborating on brilliant, ground-breaking projects is what gets me to work in the morning. Thank you, Tiffany, for bringing your genius to the table.

3.     Tiffany is not the kind of thing you go out and buy for yourself. I think the true impact of Tiffany is when it is given to you as a gift: a beautiful set of high-end pens for graduation, the engagement ring, etc; it’s the excitement of what is presented in the Tiffany box. So… do someone a favor, and the next time you have a special event to commemorate in another person’s life, buy them something from Tiffany. I promise she (or he) will never forget it.