At my house, we’re having a diet compeititon. That’s right, me and my husband, Jim, started a diet in about the middle of January and so far are down, 20 and 27 pounds, respectively.

We did it for health reasons, aesthetic reasons and because we love each other. Even though he’s lost more weight (men always do, it seems), we’re both in a good place. I love that we’re eating more vegetables and fruits, fewer processed foods, smaller portions, less sugar and being more active.

Friends ask how we’re doing it. First, we’re both competitive and persistent people, which helps. Second, we’re empty nesters with just us the dog and the cat. So we can control what’s in the cupboards and fridge. Finally, we’re seriously tracking the foodstuffs we’re consuming. I’m using Weight Watchers Online PointsTracker. Jim? Well, he started out on the pear-only diet, but lately he’s been focusing on low-calorie, protein packed items at breakfast and lunch and eating Weight Watcher recipes for dinner. (He’s fully expecting he’ll be able to sing like Jennifer Hudson when we’re done:)

Unless you’re Heidi Klum-like, chances are you’ve lost weight, gained it back and ended up somewhere short of what you really want the scale to read. I’ve been there, too. This time, though, Jim and I are counting down to our June 1 diet end date knowing that the winner isn’t the only one who will end up with something good.

Funny, it took a day where I lose an hour to make me gain a little perspective about that most fleeting of all resources — time.

There I was, hauling you-know-what home on I-80 and mentally prioritizing the to-do list I’d left at the office and the one waiting for me on the homefront and it hit me. I’ll never have enough time. Even though it’s something I rationally know, saying (yeah, I talk in my car when it’s just me) it was both a relief and an acknowledgement.

Saying those five words helped me put aside feeling guilty for wanting to walk the dog and then curl up in the coziness of home on a chilly, rain-spattered afternoon. Saying them again  — and really savoring them — forced me to accept that tonight I’ll write a little, learn a little, cook and clean a little, work a little, play a little. And, in the process, live a whole gosh-darn lot.

Of course, when daylight savings time comes again, and we’re falling back, instead of springing forward, I only hope I remember today. If I can, I won’t get giddy and greedy at the prospect of 60 more minutes. 

Instead, I’ll revel in the opportunity to make the most of every moment I have.

 The explanation? Well, his name is Kobe, and he’s a Shiba Inu, a dog breed of Japanese descent. When I found him and brought him home, all I knew is he needed a Japanese name. After searching and rejecting several common terms, I settled on the name of Japan’s fifth-largest city and a name that, translated, meant “secret shrine of the high priest.”

Kobe, whose name means "secret shrine," curled up in my bed

 What I couldn’t know then was how far those four feet from Japan would take me. Kobe took me on walks, introduced me to my neighbors, encouraged me to make new friends at the dog park, provided an excuse to take long walks with my now-husband.

I credit my noble canine friend for helping me be closer to the world and live fully in it, even and especially during difficult times. He has taught me about friendship, unconditional love, and living in the present — in all the ways that only good dogs can.

I hope and expect that I’ll visit Japan one day. When I take that step, I’ll be thinking of the dog who will be there to greet me when I get home.

Every day, I have reason to say “I love the Internet.” Today, I remembered one of the reasons I don’t.

I was cruising Facebook and caught a new wall post from a CEO, Angel-investor, PR-type of guy who is highly regarded, well-known, reputable and real (I’ve met him F2F, not just virtually). The post was this crazy thing about the Susan G. Komen Foundation starting to sell pink handguns, and after a week which saw the Komen group in PR crisis mode, I clicked through and read what I thought was an INSANE partnership with a firearms discounter.

The article got me fired up, no pun intended. So in short order, I liked the post, left an opinionated comment, shared it on my wall and then decided to troll through the 100+ other comments on this guy’s wall post to see what others had to say. About 25 comments deep on his post, one lone poster’s words caught my eye. “ Folks, it’s not real. Not sanctioned by SGK … read the update at the bottom.”

Seeing the sea of negativity that had resulted from the original errant post, I deleted my comment, deleted my wall post, and quickly ate a heaping helping of humble pie. I learned, or perhaps was reminded of, the Internet’s essential Catch-22: the information is instant, but that doesn’t make it true.

I know they’ve dropped the ball in New York City for as long as I can remember, and according to Wikipedia they’ve been doing it in Times Square since 1907 — right around the time Dick Clark was born.

But as I sit hear watching 2011 slip away, I’m suggesting that perhaps a new analogy is in order for the new year. “Dropping the ball” is an expression that most believe came out of the sports world in the 1930s. Back then, on the gridiron, and now in most every field, dropping the ball is a bad, bad thing.

So why on earth would we want to waste the last 60 seconds of the year - much less start a new one – by focusing so closely on something equated with failing, screwing up, missing an opportunity or making a mistake, especially a stupid one? (http://www.idiomsandexpressions.com/category/keywords/dropping-ball)

Instead, let’s lead with the positive. Start 2012 off on the right foot. Raise the bar, or the ball, so to speak. In this new year, let’s turn our thoughts toward what good we humans can do, what help we can give, what challenges we can meet, what problems we can solve, what discoveries we can uncoil, what delight we can experience and yes, what fun we can have.

And let’s not waste another minute thinking about dropping any balls.

Holiday stockings (or socks in my family) were always the place where we tucked in last-minute, oddball gifts that weren’t big enough to count for a “real” present but still merited being close to the Christmas tree. Our socks were also the place where some gifts – like oranges and nuts and, ironically, socks, reliably and lovingly, showed up year after year after year.

So it’s with that spirit of giving and sharing things that delight AND things that you need that I’m happy to regift 3 stocking stuffers that the social web gave to me this year.

1. Tech The Halls from MSN (http://techthehalls.msn.com/build-a-lightshow.aspx#fbid=A96qQpUlR24) This little gem caught my eye last week when I was bemoaning my lack of time and motivation to get holiday lights hung at home. It showed up on MSN’s home page and with just a few clicks, my holiday spirits brightened. I had a blast decking out my mansion, my cabin, and my home with everything from cute critters to a marvelous multitude of multicolored lights. One thing’s for sure, it will be a snap to get those lights down in late January!

2. Larry the IT Elf from CDW as seen on YouTube                         (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=moQlmBdV1KM) This was, bar none, the most passed around video at my workplace. Pretty much everyone from the mailroom to the C-suites can feel the pain and will laugh out loud at how the brains at Ogilvy Mather, Chicago imagines the elves at the North Pole working to optimize the world’s largest mobile workforce. If you can’t watch the video because it’s blocked on your office computer (as it was on some of ours), go to YouTube and check it out. Last count, the long and the short versions had racked up 12,000-plus hits on YouTube.

3. Eric Whitacre’s Virtual Choir 2.0 (http://ericwhitacre.com/the-virtual-choir) As silly and lighthearted as the previous two stuffers are, Virtual Choir is seriously awe-inspiring. Chris Anderson, curator of TED, said it best: “For anyone who wants to believe in the humanizing power of a connected world, here is your anthem.” The choir’s genius isn’t in a new rendition of a classic Christmas carol, but instead in how the social web can be used to create something so much better than its composite parts. Listen and revel in how, thanks to the World Wide Web, these voices come together.

Part of the fun of the holidays is discovering what’s inside your sock. Drop me a line and tell me what you’ve found this year that’s practical, that’s become a go-to, that’s fun or simply makes you laugh.

And if your computer freezes up? Well, maybe give Larry at CDW a call.

What do you do when your brand stands for greed?

That’s the situation that Lipitor, the amazingly effective and popular anti-cholesterol drug, may just find itself in as its patent expires and it transforms into much less expensive alternative. Over the last 14 years, Lipitor has earned its parent company Pfizer $81 billion. I’ll say it again: $81 billion. Now that you’ve got your brain wrapped around that mind boggler, it’s easy to understand why Pfizer had hordes or lawyers fighting tooth and nail up to December 1 to delay the expiration of its patent. Every day the lawyers delayed the inevitable, Pfizer bagged a cool $10 million.

The only problem with Pfizer’s capitalistic triumph? Well, if you haven’t noticed there’s a little issue in our country with healthcare costs spiraling out of control and millions of people unable to afford even the most basic coverage. I’d like to think there’s got to be some happy medium that allows companies like Pfizer to recoup the millions of dollars they invest into R&D’ing drugs like Lipitor, but also keeps Big Pharma from gouging consumers to line their corporate coffers.

Part of the solution is for consumers to speak with their pocketbooks. Consider purchasing generic drugs from companies that bring effective generic drugs to market. Don’t simply buy the brand name because you’ve heard of it. Instead, talk to your doctor (because you should, not because all those prime-time ads say so) and have a true talk about whether a generic medication may work for you.

If, like me, you believe that brands are promises that exist between companies and products and consumers, buy the brands that stand for something better than greed.

I’m officially over Black Friday even before it’s begun.

I’m not sure exactly when it happened. It could have been when someone told me about the website http://bfads.net/ or it might have been when I realized that Amazon and Macy’s probably spent the annual GDP of a small nation bidding on the keywords “Black Friday Deals.” It also might have have been when I heard the very sad news that Kohl’s, a major retailer, decided to use the Rebecca Black “Friday” song in – wait for it – it’s latest Black Friday ads.

My blase-ness about what seems to have turned into a media-centric national sport is not that people are out there shopping. Actually, I’m all for anyone supporting the economy. It’s simply that it’s one day. The attention given to this one day has consumed Thanksgiving in the same way an anaconda swallows a rodent whole.

My advice to you this Thanksgiving? Hold off on Black Friday everything until Thanksgiving is over. Make this one day be one where we all give thanks for the graces and blessings in our lives.

My new Kindle Fire arrived in the mail last night. And I’m here to tell you that, for a lot of reasons, I’m a believer. I’ve been a Kindle owner from the beginning and have grown along with the product line. I’ve never been tempted by the Nook simply because, in my mind, there’s no comparison between B&N and Amazon. I mean, really, c’mon, the company isn’t named after the longest river in the world for nothing.

But I’m also the owner and avid user of an iPad and an iTouch. So what void, pray tell, could this new Kindle Fire fill that none of the other devices could? After a quick charge-up (more props for that) I found out. The Fire lets you consume content and interact in the social world in a manner that’s not just best of both worlds, but best of all worlds. The interface is smooth and user-friendly, like the iPad; it’s small and feels like a book, which is what I’ve always loved about the Kindle; and you can get to ANYTHING you’ve purchased on Amazon as easily as flipping a switch.

The only downside? It’s slightly heavier than I expected, especially compared to my husband’s iPad 2 and the navigation bar isn’t as easy to bring up when reading as I want it to be. I’ll admit that second one could be a newbie error. Time will tell.

Everyone, me included, appreciates the cool factor of new technology. But today — and I think for months to come — I’ll happily have the Kindle Fire and the heat it’s packing by my side.

At my work, I’m one of the people who occasionally responds to random e-mails submitted through our corporate website. Sometimes, I’m able to provide assistance, other times I’m not. Either way, I respond so they know we’re an organization made up of real people.

One of those people I responded to e-mailed me back this morning and thanked me for my efforts. While her kinds words were thoughtful, it was her reference to the fact that she had developed a new “wrinkle in her brain because she learned something” that, in fact, got me thinking.

I checked out her claim at http://www.brainfitnessforlife.com/health-wellness/7-myths-about-the-human-brain/ and found out that the idea of new wrinkles appearing in our brain lobes every time we learn something is a myth. Basically, the ridges and crevices, which are called gyri and sulci, respectively, come into play simply to ensure that our brains are compact enough to fit inside our skulls. Neat, huh?

Early fetal brains, I learned, do start out smooth but wrinkle up as they grow. The wrinkling is caused by neurons in the brain growing and migrating to different areas. But by the time we’re all a mere 40 weeks old, we’ve got all the wrinkles in our brain that we’ll have — barring illness or injury — until the day we die.

The moral of this random story? We can’t control the wrinkles that we have, but each of us can control what we learn.