I am anticipating my first Wilco concert tonight. I’m pretty excited because I haven’t been to a concert in awhile. Last spring, I saw the free Ben Folds show on the grounds at UVa . . . but I was with the girl, and it was free, and I was overly conscious of the fact that I’m not a college student, and I’m the mother of someone who almost is. Therefore, tonight’s grownups-only outing has me psyched.

I went to Technorati to see what other people had to say about their Wilco concert experiences and chuckled because there are so many posts from Poppy Mom. She’s a big Wilco fan. So’s my husband. He’s been to several Wilco shows and a couple with Jeff Tweedy solo. The boy has even seen Wilco. My friend Shawn has seen Wilco and Tweedy a bunch, too. I don’t know if I am qualified to write a real “review” of the show, but I will tell you what I think.

But before that, we’re going to the State Marching Band Festival. And tonight the boy will go to Homecoming. It’s a busy day.

Today. Charlottesville Chocolate Festival at Lee Park. 10am -2pm. Details.

I learned something last week from a friend of mine. I’m always learning from my friends — in fact I firmly believe in surrounding myself with smart people so some of their brains will rub off on me (ew).

She introduced me to the Four Point Day. I don’t know if this is really what it’s called, or whose idea it was in the first place. If you know, tell me because I’d like to learn more. It works like this: you try to have a four point day every day.

Here’s the scoring system:

4 points if you close a deal (and this means signed contract in hand or, in my opinion, it doesn’t count)
3 points if you meet with a decision maker
2 points if you make an appointment with a decision maker (if the C-level person has a team of gatekeepers, this could be a tough one)
1 point for meeting someone or making that first contact (Online interaction counts!)

I have been pretty excited about this concept from the get-go. So far, it’s been pretty life changing, like when I discovered the FlyLady, or started using Bloglines, or — oh my, when we got DSL for the first time. You may laugh, but these were huge moments that have made my life easier and more successful.

I’ve cross-posted a less gushing, more professional version of this over at www.standingprblog.com in case you want to share it with your boss, your sales staff, or a friend. If they’re a good friend, you could probably just share this version.  

Hey! Thanks for stopping by the ol’ blog. You may have come here from such links as the RFT’s Daily Web Crawl, Mamalogues,(oh and OMG – today’s post is oh-so-funny) Dwight’s Writing Manifesto or Golden Practices. We sure are glad to see you!

Wait. We can’t see you yet — but we will — if you are one of the thousands many who intend to join us for PUMPKIN ALE at Schlafly Bottleworks on Oct. 26.

What is the deal?
I’ve invited bloggers from all over the St. Louis region to congregate on a Friday evening at Schlafly Bottleworks. We’re going to meet one another face-to-face and put the voice to the site. We’re going to meet people we consider true friends for the first time.

It will be, as I told Angela, kind of like riding a roller coaster; scary, thrilling and fun and I promise, when it ends, you’ll just want to do it all over again.

What will we do when we’re there?
Well, I intend to have those dorky stick-on nametags so you can write your name or your “name” if you’re anonymous and your URL. If you’re not a blogger (and I’ll get to that in a minute) you can write “friend of http://casachristy.com/ ” for example.

Also, BLARDS are highly encouraged. Whoa, Marijean (or Mj, if you’re one of the chosen), what the heck is a BLARD? A blard, (and you call yourself a BLOGGER) is a Blog Card — kinda like a business card, yet with your blog URL and whatever information you care to divulge. Get thee to a Kinko’s fast if you have none and want some by next Friday.

Here’s mine. If you’re lucky, I’ll hand you one, punk.

Beyond that — we’ll talk — maybe stare at one another a little. We’ll find out who is taller, Dana or me. We’ll compare carpal tunnel stories and have a few brews. Above all, we’ll all have an experience together we’ll race back to our laptops to BLOG about, guaranteed. (Fair warning: I’ll be taking photos and I’m pretty sure other people will, too.)

What if I’m not a blogger, but merely a blog READER?
Bloggers would not be bloggers if not for the readers. And you? You are extra special. We know it’s only a matter of time before you come over to the dark side blogosphere. This is a great opportunity to pick the brains of some of the BEST bloggers St. Louis has to offer. Find out what platform they use, what their comment policy is and why, what challenges they’ve faced and what they would have done differently from the start. Bloggers love to talk about their blog cred. I do. Just ask me.

Details are here — leave a comment if you plan to show.

And in today’s news, covered by someone (Bossy) much funnier than any reporter, we learn yet another reason why working at home is far superior to working in an germ hole office.

No, no. Not MY life coach. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Although I didn’t used to feel that way. In fact, I remember quite clearly the first time I ran into someone I knew who turned to his lunch companion and introduced her as his “life coach.” “Loser,” I thought, because I used to be judgemental like that sometimes and also, because I’d met with this guy enough to have previously formed that opinion for other reasons. Anyway, that was 1997 or so and the professional coaching trend was new. Oh, and I was a kid who didn’t know anything. That, too.

Yesterday, (10 years later), I had lunch with a friend and referral source whose business it is to coach leaders and executives as well as help organizations with their strategic business plans. Lucky for me, she brought her coaching skills to the table, and helped me think through some challenges and goals on my plate.

A few years ago I would have felt strange about seeking professional help for my career. Now, though, it seems foolish not to go get the best help you can find, to allow you to be the best you can be.

Would you use a life coach? Have you? Why or why not?

Susan was kind enough to put together a STL Blogger Gathering button for our use — feel free to add it to your site if you’re planning to attend and whoa! speaking of attending — I am thrilled by how many of you are going to be able to make it!

Details are here — leave a comment if you are planning to show up.

At long last, I will meet:

- Dana, who will dwarf me in her tallest shoes
- Dwight, who is quite possibly the most compelling writer in St. Louis
- Raquita and Jerry/Benticore — a blogging couple with a new baby!
- Poppy (with her fabulous hair and gravity defying body parts)
- Michelle, who, I think has been blogging longer than anybody I know

All these meetups are long overdue and the thought of them occurring all at once is like fireworks and birthday cake. I’m so excited — and I promise, it won’t be like the first blogger gathering I ever attended. I will not circle the parking lot — and neither should you.

Think we should let Schlafly know we’re coming?

Meet me in St. Louis, Friday, Oct. 26, 6pm-9pm, at Schlafly Bottleworks, 7260 Southwest Ave. (at Manchester)
Maplewood, Mo.

Ptoooie! I’d spit, if I were the spittin’ type. I’m so ticked off at the girl right now. I’ve been simmering beef for French Dip all day. The house had the glorious smell of onions and yes you vegetarians — meat! I’ve been hungry since about 11am, anticipating the sandwiches we’ll have for dinner.

I ran out for about half and hour to take the boy for an allergy check up and when we got back the house had been fumigated. The girl — and I don’t know WHAT got into her head — had sprayed Febreze in Country Meadow or some such floral fantasy so thick throughout the house that IT’S ALL I CAN TASTE.

It smells like a nursing home on visiting day. It’s like church, when you’re in the heavily perfumed old ladies’ section. It’s floral, with an aerosol overtone. It makes me want to fry some fish and smoke a cigar because NO ONE WOULD KNOW.

If that stuff has tainted the taste of my French Dip, I’m going out and I know a little girl who’s BUYING MY DINNER.