Email Manners

This evening I started cleaning out one of my email inboxes (and feel great about it!). During the process I ran across an old work-related exchange and it got me thinking about what to do and not do in email etiquette. Don’t mind the 2008 dates on the emails, but I just sorted through about 6000 and feel …clean. Hah!

I’m normally one of those people who will respond to everything to keep up good customer service relations, but am trying to cut down on my email obsessions. Since it’s a mildly difficult situation in a “Dear Miss Manners” sort of way, I turn to you, semi-faithful readers.

The short version of my question: when does one stop responding? It’s like when you’re texting back & forth, and they send you a confirmation to a question you’ve asked but don’t *really* need a response – do you send “k” back to them?

Read the emails further for clarification; and yes I’ve edited them to toss out all but the necessary stuff.


From: Client
Sent: Thursday, October 30, 2008 12:41 PM
To: larissa

I would like to see pictures of the — room. Also, please send a list of DJ’s so that I can get an idea of cost.

At 01:57 PM 10/30/2008, you wrote:
Attached are photos and a preferred vendor list.

From: Client
Sent: Wednesday, January 07, 2009 10:20 AM
To: larissa
Can you please confirm availability of your room for January 18, 2009? We are planning a “Sweet 16” Birthday party.
If the room is available, what do we need to do to reserve?

At 10:37 AM 1/7/2009, you wrote:
It is available. To begin reserving it we’ll need you to fill out a party rental form, which you can either come into the office to get or go to the site map online. That way you can scan/email it or fax it. Once we get that we can make a contract for you, which can also be signed via fax or you can stop by. Then we will take payment.

The total due with your contract will be $1000 – this is for the room rate of $600, and a damage deposit of $400 (doubled from the normal deposit since you are booking it less than 30 days prior). Accepted forms of payment are Visa, Mastercard, cash or money order – no checks (also since we are under 30 days).

As far as 21-and-under celebrations go, the hours of your party will need to be from 2pm-7pm, and you are welcome to bring in any caterer you’d like, even potluck.

From: Client
Sent: Wednesday, January 07, 2009 10:50 AM
To: larissa

Thanks for your quick response.

Is the room rental for Sunday $600 or $425? Your website shows $425.
I also did not realize that the party needed to end by 7pm. Are there any exceptions to this?

At 10:57 AM 1/7/2009, Larissa wrote:

No problem!

Sorry, I have been looking at Saturday prices all day. 🙂 You’re right, the Sunday price is 425. As far as the time limitations, if it’s a sweet 16, 21st birthday, 18th birthday, quincenara, etc., those are our restrictions, 2pm-7pm. I know that adults will be present but we’ve just had too many past incidents with 21-and-under events, so management started a policy for that a few years back.

From: Client
Sent: Wednesday, January 07, 2009 11:19 AM
To: larissa

Thanks for clarifying the price and time restriction. I will get back with you tomorrow with a decision.

At 12:18 PM 1/7/2009, Larissa wrote:
Alright, talk to you then 🙂

From: Client
Sent: Thursday, January 08, 2009 1:25 PM
To: larissa

Thanks for answering all of my questions. Unfortunately the time restrictions will not work for us. Maybe our next event can be held at your facility.

……………..Obviously the email exchange is over, and usually I’ll send a quick “Glad to be of assistance, perhaps we’ll talk in the future”, but it depends on my mood and time. I try to never get stuck in the thank you / you’re welcome / no, YOU’RE welcome cycle though.

What do you guys do?

Solid Gold 90’s

I’ll paint a picture, it will remind me
Don’t call me daughter
I fade away
A picture
It will remiiiiiiind me

It was 4 in the afternoon; the only light was coming from the huge boxed TV set, super vintage, wood paneled. “Daughter” was on MTV, back when it meant music television because that’s what it played – music videos. I’d lip sync along with the lyrics and love how they packaged that CD, all the while really really really really REALLY wanting that one guy to call.

I just saw an article called “Tragic Kingdom Saved My Life” over on Jezebel, and it reminded me to write one of many posts that are building up in my head, reminding me of my true nature – early 90’s Pittsburgh.

Technically, Aliquippa, but nobody knows where that is, so I claim Pittsburgh. Spent enough time there. Didn’t go to Pitt or Penn State or Duquesne or CMU, but most of my friends either went there or PTI or CCBC or nowhere at all.

My ride was the family Buick LeSabre, until it was my own maroon-colored 1996 Grand Am. Its name was Riven, like the game. I wanted to get that in Olde English font across the top and am glad that never happened, but it would’ve been SO cool at the time. Window tint and fresh speakers. My music was standard alt-rock and grunge when it wasn’t Rap or R&B. WAMO is now apparently a Catholic church talk radio station but it was the station to listen to when you weren’t taping stuff off of B94 and hoping that the DJ wouldn’t talk over the beginning or end of songs.

I’d get out the Cassette Tape Singles – Shaggy, or Bone Thugs N Harmony, and I’d put it into my Walkman (!!) and go biking on trails we made nicknames for, or over to a friend’s house. They call him Mr. Boombastic, apparently, and his CD nearly got worn out from all my playing. Sometimes it would be Crystal Waters, sometimes it would be Skee-Lo or B.I.G. or Foxy or Diddy; sometimes it would be Spin Doctors. We’d go to the corner store for sunflower seeds and penny candy (Swedish fish or chocolate-peanut-butter Knuts, because things never change), and I remember saying “Someday this will play in my car as it’s drivin down wherever, bumpin bass with the windows down and the wind in my hair.” Eventually I got to drive my grandparents’ car, then my mom’s, and the music went into the tape deck, then the CD player. We’d just cruise around, and there was always bass, even when there shouldn’t have been.

I’ve been listening to a lot of stuff from that genre lately. Pearl Jam, Barenaked Ladies, 7th House, The Clarks, No Doubt, Live, The Clarks, Skee-Lo, Alanis, Snow, Everclear, Dirty Otto, all of it. Okay, maybe not Dirty Otto. You guys know about Dirty Otto? I went over to Humphrey’s one time – that’s right, they had awesome chicken salads – and they were playing live. Afterwards, the lead singer bought a round of drinks for everyone in the house. This place was a Bar And Grill (no ‘e’ at the end of that Grill) at its Beaver Valley Finest, and therefore the bar was right in the middle of the restaurant. When I say a round for everyone in the house, I mean everybody standing in the vicinity of the bar. That included me, at the age with no answer when the bartender asked, “Whaddya wanna drink”. He didn’t much care to answer my blank stare and comment of “Dunno, yinz got some ……strawberry dack-ree?” but served me up something that probably was made out of ice and food coloring. The lead singer was kind of cute, in that drunk-in-the-garage-rocker kind of way, and gave me a halfhearted grin when I told him the show was cool. Trying to play off my age, clearly under the legal limit to even be speaking let alone standing in the same area, so he said “Isn’t it about your bedtime?” in that holier-than-thou voice. Sorry I complimented you, buddy – I should’ve told you what I really thought, that your band sounded like a nondescript whatever that should’ve stayed home.

Oh music. I remember how you made me feel, music of the 90’s, each song’s different strains setting up different themes in my head, doing weird and good and bad and fun things to the various cells up there. College was walking down the street, playing Matchbox 20, wishing my boyfriend wasn’t 3000 miles away. Or it was driving to an earlier boyfriend’s house to hang out for the evening; we’d go to the movies and then Perkins every Friday, like clockwork. “It’s sittin by the overcoat, the second shelf the note she wrote…” Driving down route 60 in the dark for the first time, going to the mall, the ice rink. I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky, I believe I can hang out at that ice rink every weekend for two years. Fell in love about ten times a week with that guy who drove the Zamboni, but he was what we call An Asshole. I always had a thing for hockey players though. That explains the random driving trips, getting lost with a friend, just so we could hang out with a cute boy. I fell hard for quite a few of them though, some fell hard for me as well, but most just seemed to go away. There were a lot of nights spent in my room just feeling sorry for myself, as teen angst tends to make you do. You just make another knotted yarn thing for your hair and move on.

Train and standing in line hearing Drops of Jupiter yet again. Dave Matthews and The Freshman on a mixtape in my car. Blues Traveler. Counting Crows, Live. Blur. Tonic. Disturbed. Seal. Prodigy. Silverchair. Eve 6. Reel Big Fish. Nada Surf. Marvelous 3. Liz Phair. Dishwalla. Meredith Brooks. Joy Drop. Marilyn Manson. When Marilyn Manson first came out and everyone thought he was Satan Incarnate. When we found out his name was Brian. White Town. Green Day – and I had the Dookie t-shirt, but have no idea where it is. Presidents of the USA. Dead Milkmen. Savage Garden. Backstreet Boys. Hanson. Jars of Clay. GooGoo Dolls. 2Pac. Snoop Doggy Dogg. Tiffany. Paula Abdul. Ice Cube. Cranberries. Superdrag. REM. Nirvana. Foo Fighters. Oasis. Aerosmith. The City of Angels soundtrack. Mobb Deep. Dr. Dre. Eminem. When Eminem was a HUGE controversial deal. Korn. Prodigy. DMX. Limp Bizkit and their horrible, horrible music. SR-71. The Ataris. MXPX. Goldfinger. Punk rock and skateboarding and rollerblading. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Soul Asylum. Soundgarden and the melting Barbie in the video. Weezer. Radiohead and the really long video. The Smashing Pumpkins. Metallica. Slayer. Pantera. The t-shirts to go along with them. Alice In Chains. Rage Against The Machine. Tool. Garbage. My friend saying that the orange CD was only good for strippers. That friend dying. My OTHER friend dying. Trying to go to school full time and work full time and not go crazy and then leaving.

Pittsburgh living was Marlboros and heartbreak, guitars and drums, climbing trees and walking alone at the side of the river. Standing under bridges and wondering why the humidity was 500% and walking around inside the mall because there was just nothing else to do. Biking around, falling in and out of love, thinking that there was a world out there but not really knowing if that was true. I knew if you drove far enough, you’d get to Cedar Point. Los Angeles was just a song lyric and New Orleans was where the friend lived. Someone called me once from the UK and it was like something from a movie. We finally went to New Orleans, in 1997, my church’s youth group (fourteen people in a Pace Arrow), and it was the biggest adventure of my life at that time. A soda was three dollars and you couldn’t get an ice bucket at the hotel; I saw the Victorian houses on the water and romanticized everything. It changed my life. Anne Rice was right – there was life beyond the tri-state area.

The guy from is still a friend, by the way. After more than a decade I can say he’s a wonderful human being, despite never having met him in person. No idea where the pen pal from Germany is, but I hope she’s doing well. The days of X-fest and Starlight Amphitheater and listening to Art sing about those houses up on the hill… they blended and ran into something that made me lose track of time, I have been to the hills he sang at the foot of, and live on a hill a little south of the ones he sang about. The palm trees make me constantly nostalgic for a place that I live in.

Oh music, music from days gone by and loves lost, left unchanged. I could go on about you for hours. You make me want to share with my friends, want to go back in time and share my Now with them. We’d have a pretty good time, I think.

PS: He never called.

Bees, a brief history of

This is for all those who doubt bees have wings and I know you are out there.

“Bees all have two pairs of wings…”

My next magical trick will be to debunk this myth of Thanksgiving. Stay tuned.

Championship rings be damned

I want Steelers fans to read this article.

Next year when Atlanta is struggling with a sub-par record we can talk.

Nice job on throwing Big Ben under the bus (pun intended) as well.

Quoted for effect, “…quarterback on a loaded Pittsburgh team…”

Please remind me the last time the Atlanta “dog fighting” Falcons won a championship. That’s right, there is no answer because it has NEVER HAPPENED..

Kudos to making the playoffs 8 times since 1966.


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