I am not one to cry over spilled milk but missing the deadline for this milk-promotional sweeps, for a two-night stay at La Costa Resort and Spa, was most frustrating. I’d been meaning to enter it for weeks. To cheer myself up, I entered a sweeps for one week at the Cheeca Lodge in Islamorada, Florida, in the Keys. The thing with this sweeps is it’s sponsored by Bride’s Magazine and even though per the Official Rules the sweeps is open to all legal residents of the U.S. and the District of Columbia, there’s this sense that it, and a slew of others offered by Bride’s, is for wedding-bound individuals, bride, groom, guest, consultant. I’m not getting how the sweeps sponsors can have it both ways, making it open it all but requiring entrants to give the date of the wedding (not the entrant’s wedding necessarily, but still). Maybe that makes me a wedding sweeps crasher.
I suppose that is not my concern, especially if I win.
To enter, click HERE. The deadline is February 13.
Yesterday afternoon I bumped into my neighborhood Fortune Teller, in her fur coat, which by the way is most definitely not real fur, and she proceeds to tell me she’s lit another candle for me, a special candle, a beeswax candle. I tell her that’s great, but that I can give her money this time but that I can’t give her money each and every time I see her. I tell her it’s awkward. That’s the word for all this. Awkward. She is responsive, almost apologetic and I sense she’s not insulted. That doesn’t stop me from worrying that she’s going to put a hex on me. As for the headlines this past week, I haven’t been this inclined to shelter my son from media reports since 9/11 and the first few months of the U.S. invasion of Iraq. (Space diapers, Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband’s paternity claims.)