(no subject)

BABY'S FIRST PROSPECT.

Here in Prospect Research, we have two functions: researching people we already know are rich, so that we can convince them to give us money, and finding NEW people who are rich who share our interests, that we might convince them to give us money.

The former is relatively easy; the people are there, we just research them. The latter is much more difficult, because it basically involves "randomly finding rich people with an interest in what we do." The challenges of "prospecting" are pretty well documented within the discipline; we've only just staffed up enough that we can restart our Prospecting program, where one of our staff spends a month at a time assigned to find prospects, then hands it off to the next staff member.

If you're not actively assigned to prospecting, all you can really do is keep your eyes open -- just in case. Which, today, involved me noticing that one of the news articles I was clipping had a potential prospect in it. So I did some research and assembled a prospect kit -- a capacity rating, a brief bio, and some philanthropy history -- and presented it to my boss. Who said,

"Congratulations! You've found your first prospect."

I WOULD LIKE A COOKIE.

Sadly, if she gives us the $25K she is capable of giving us, I do not get a commission.

(no subject)

I AM SNOT TASTIC.

So, I don't know where I found this, possibly someone in the cafe recommended it (if so, thank you) but I've had it on my "adventur" list forever: the NETI MASSAGE. I have very tempermental sinuses, so I thought, I'll get a neti massage, which is meant to break up your sinuses a bit and clear your nasal passages through the liberal inhalation of mint-oil steam.

It was a lot fancier than I expected.

I thought I'd just get a massage chair and a couple-ten minutes of facial massage, which to be honest was what I was after. I like massage; I don't touch people much in my everyday life and touch is important, they've done studies, so I make sure at least once a month I get some kind of touch therapy, which usually involves a student massage at the local school.

What actually happened was that they put me in a room with lots of candles and a robe, and then took my berobed ass to another room with MORE CANDLES and a steam machine. And then they scrubbed my feet. I mean, my feet could use it, but that was a surprise. They did do an actual full table massage after the foot-scrubbing, admittedly with a lot of focus on the face and head, before bringing me honeyed tea to drink for afters. FANCY.

But the lady who was doing the massage was using some kind of lotion that smelled very strongly of bananas and cinnamon. So there's me, face full of minty goodness and rubbed down with banana lotion, and after the massage I get on the train, where I shove in with a group of hipster-y guys who are talking about getting margaritas. About ten minutes go by, and all of a sudden one of them sniffs.

"Do you smell banana bread?"

Oh nooooooooooooooooooooo....

"Man, I do."

"I could totally go for some banana bread."

"I haven't had banana bread in years, probably."

"Maybe someone on the train has banana bread."

Meanwhile I am very casually SUPER-ENGROSSED in my phone, because I am unprepared to admit to strangers that the banana bread they smell is me. I'm not even that big a fan of banana bread!

Bet you all want some now though, huh.

Anyway, then I got home and there was a flood of snot from out my nose, so I'm sitting in bed with a box of tissue marveling at how much liquid my face contains.