How are you doing out there in Bloggsville? Are you getting as slow a start to 2008 as I? No? Great. So how about sending me some of your energy since I have absolutely NONE. Jeez. I could actually take a nap and I never have done that sort of thing. I’ve never been able to figure out how people do that. When I’ve taken a nap — oh, about once or three times in my life, I’m not refreshed. I suck. My butt’s dragging around and I’m cranky. So what else is new, right? Whatever.

So with this incredible lackluster beginning, I’m going to take care of one of your favorite things…a meme. The best thing about this meme is the person who tagged me: Lis of La Mia Cucina. Lis has the knack of being able to brighten my day with the most ridiculous crap. I LOVE it! Jokes, videos, trials and tribulations — you name it. She’s completely hilarious. But she’s also quite the human. The day we arrived in VA, a box of holiday goodness arrived bearing her return address. Home baked cookies (six different kinds?) Christmas decorations and a warm and lovely grey scarf were nestled under the tissue just waiting to be enjoyed. Thanks, Lis!

But you’re going to be pissed at me, Lis, ‘cause I’m not tagging anyone. And just so you know you’re not alone, I’ve got awards stacked up from summer to hand out. Think I’m a bit behind? Um…yah. So now that the rest of you are relieved, you can keep reading if you are interested in finding out even more useless information about whom else?

Me.

 (more…)

 So do you think it’s a problem that yesterday, I FINALLY wrote after so many days, and then when I logged in today to write again WOOT, I’d discovered the post I wrote yesterday…um…not there.  Or here.  I guess I’d inadvertantly marked it “private.”  So sorry ‘bout that.  Now, here it is.  And only a day late.  Sheesh.

Okay. I’ve sulked long enough. I’ve dragged myself out from under the bush I crawled under to get over myself. Actually, I’m just transitioning between Fall and Winter. Getting ready. I’m not sure what for, but it seems to be something I do. Sounds scientific, doesn’t it?

And since I have serious ground to cover, I’ll start by warning you that I’m loaded with tagging. Pay backs are hell, aren’t they?

About two decades ago, Sam of Temporarily Me (who is slogging through NaBloPoMo like a trooper and is almost there!) smacked me upside the head with something about Crazy 8’s. If you don’t know Sam, you should. She’s completely hilarious and says what my brain is thinking with respect to calling things like she sees them. Plus, she designs her own site and I swear changes the design like someone changes underwear. It’s the best comparison I could come up with, OKAY? Her designs are excellent and when I actually get around to acting serious about design, after I grow up, I want to be just like her. The woman has talent. Be nice to her when you visit. She’s preggers and is a tad cranky right now. Teasing, Sam! Teasing. Don’t hit me, ‘kay?

This oughta take about three years to finish. And I have a sale to run to right in the middle of it just to make sure it takes all day. (Erm…just got back from the sale. The line was down the block, so no.) Moving right along with this Tag-a-Scrum-Dilly-Icious post.

Here are my Crazy 8’s:

8 things I’m passionate about:

1. Solitude. You know. Places with no people in them. Lots of complete silence. I know. People in hell want ice water. Feh.
2. Days with no plans. Lots of them. Like forever.
3. Cooking, food, eating, grocery shopping, looking at cooking magazines, cooking blogs, restaurants, reality food shows, does that cover it?
4. Writing, words, letters, typography, books
5. How much I completely detest jerks in general and people who drive like their face. (Have you ever really wondered what that means?) And….ahem.
6. My Mac and if you touch it you’re toast. Don’t — 
7. Being passionate about being passionately passionate about passion
8. My guys (this is here for those of you who have already clucked about my not putting it in the numero uno spot and gimmeabreakalready).

8 things I say often:

1. Sonofab*tch
2. Shee*t
3. Jeez Louize
4. It’s hi-LAR-ious.
5. “Go poopoo over there.” (said to Doggo who will drop her load the SECOND she gets out the door because she thinks she’ll get left outdoors even if she never does and it drives me crazy.) Honestly, I only say it twice a day. But it adds up, yanno?
6. Did you have a good day how much homework do you have?
7. I need that (insert item here).
8. I want this (insert item here).

8 books I’ve read recently:

• You don’t actually think I’ve forgotten about these books or this list, do you?

8 things I want to do before I die:

1. Own my own little shop. A cute one that sells lovely things that everyone can’t live without or find anywhere else. With a little fence and flower boxes. And a bell.
2. Figure out how the clothes in my closet that don’t fit multiply in the night even though I keep giving them to the Good Will.
3. Make a real Beef Wellington. You know. The whole enchilada. I’ve made the individual ones a couple of times. But without the cool music in the background.
4. Renovate an old house part by part.
5. Write something that people will actually purchase. A book would be good.
6. Spend an extended time traveling — mostly in Europe.
7. Enjoy exercising. Okay, so maybe pretend like I’ll enjoy it. Sort of.
8. Develop a REAL sense of patience instead of just acting like I already have it oozing out of my pores.

8 songs I can listen to over and over again, and probably have:

1. Beatles: Help
2. Carly Simon: You’re So Vain
3. Heart: Alone
4. Roy Orbison: I Drove All Night
5. Red Hot Chili Peppers: Snow (Hey Oh)
6. Simon and Garfunkel: The Sound of Silence
7. Harry Nilsson: Without You
8. John Lennon: Imagine

8 things that attract me to my friends:

1. Irreverence
2. Common interests (food, wine, snarking, travel, books, gardening, wine…)
3. Food
4. Wine
5. Snarking (this is NOT the same as number one, so put a cork in it, babe.)
6. More wine
7. Laughter. With snorting involved. It’s a gift.
8. Waxing of possibilities and never doing anything about them.

8 things I learned in the last year:

1. You really can just walk away from a career. Period. Okay, so maybe not with bows on or anything. But you can run as fast as you can and keep watch over your shoulder that it’s not chasing you or hiding under your bed at night. Or in the closet.
2. It takes quite a bit of time to blow the dust off of everything you once loved and gave up for a job. About a year. And then some. And even then, some of it is so lost, reminding you that it could be true what they say about opportunity only knocking once. Pessimistic, but lamentably true.
3. There will never be enough hours in a day to blog and then actually do all of the other things I’d like to do. Okay, I know some of you manage, but I’m not. Make that choose not to.
4. You never will do all the things you say you will do if only you didn’t have to go to work. Because you develop new interests. And then you wish you could do all the things you said you’d always do if only…
5. There are some aspects of not having all my female equipment that are actually enjoyable. Okay. One. Maybe two. But I wouldn’t want it back. I was done with it anyway.
6. Your 15-year-old won’t develop a neurosis from his mother relentless food photoshoots.
7. For some of us, there’s no such thing as a Little Black Dress.
8. There really are things to talk about in the evening that aren’t related to work. They’re not scintillating or anything. But still. It’s nice.

Now, who’s up next:

1. Chick (who’s going out of town, so I can spring this on her unsuspecting self)
2. Meleah (who’s probably already been smacked with this one and 10 others)
3. Cooper (who less than loves these things but actually did one not too long ago, so…)
4. Robert (who will most certainly put a redneck spin on this)
5. Olga (who can do this in her sleep, but really because I want to see if she can connect all of it to the “girls.”
   
6. mel (whom I’ve harrassed with this stuff since the beginning and she’s smart enough to ignore me)
   
7. beth (a used to be Paradise resident whom I hope will forgive me because I haven’t known her all that long)
8. if you’re not on this list and are brain dead, by all means, sign yourself up. This one’s not too horribly painful. And besides, you won’t be able to tell if you’re brain dead.

Okay, so now, here’s round two (and I know there are some others, but this will have to suffice for today, because…well…I’ll think of a reason. Surely there is one.

Robert of Observations from the Back 40 honored me with an award:

A Roar for Powerful Words many days ago before I had my shopping meltdown and I’m just now getting around to saying THANKS for the recognition. I appreciate it!

Oh look everyone.  Another Saturday.  I continue to be amazed that the days on the calendar just whip by with such complete disregard for the fact that I’m on the back side of a half century and it’d be nice if things could slow down a bit.  Not permanently, of course.  But long enough to allow for the extended time I require to think about things that really don’t matter in the grander scheme of the universe and the survival of the species.  I don’t know which particular species, but still.

But there are some things that matter so much, I can’t imagine what I’d do without them.  The loss so many have experienced this past week in San Diego in the wildfires has prompted me to wonder about choosing if I had to.  But my choices aren’t necessitated by a fire.  They’re the result of simply taking stock, and acknowledging what keeps me anchored.  Understood is that family and friends are not something to be considered here.  Period.

Solitude.  I can be around many, many people.  But I prefer not to.  I love the busy roar of a large city, but not as much as a winding road and low grass covered hills.  And music?  It can bring me to tears, cause me to dance, or force me to sing along whether there are words or not.  But even music can’t compete with my need for solitude.  The quiet I enjoy for part of every day when the only sound I can hear is the rustle of trees outside my window, or the creak of wood somewhere in the house matters.  Plain, simple quiet.

My stove.  I could say cooking, but not being one of those Top Chef type people, I wouldn’t want to have to cook on a hot plate, or a sterno flame.  No.  I’d need my stove.  The one with the nine cheery red knobs.  I’ve heard people say they love their cars — the purr of the engine, the handling, the acceleration.  That’s how I feel about my stove.  Ah…the sound it makes when those convection fans switch on.  Vroom…vroom….It isn’t in my kitchen because its design is sleek, although it is.  Or because its technology is a wonder.  But it is pretty amazing. It’s in my kitchen because I use it.  Seriously use it and have fun the entire time.  It connects me to food and family and friends.  Creativity and learning.  Tradition and new cuisine.  It provides the peace of mind that diligently proceeding through a set of steps can provide, and at the end of them all, have my taste buds sing.  Could I have all of this without my particular stove?  Certainly.  But it just wouldn’t be the same.  It weighs a bit more than my Mac at about 1,000 lbs. so it isn’t exactly something I can ever take with me if I go.  But I’d find a way to get another.  Trust me.

My Mac.  It has one little plug that connects it to my house.  One.  But it connects me to so much more than I can possibly be connected to otherwise.  Ironically, I’m writing this on the MoH’s laptop, and it’s fine, but it’s not my Mac.  I could make due with a different computer if I didn’t have a Mac.  I can buy just about anything I want, read (which would be another thing I wouldn’t do without because it’s like breathing), travel, learn, listen, create…But it wouldn’t be the same.  Iwouldn’t have my lovely screen, or sleek white lines, or easily swiveleing-thingy-ness.  I wouldn’t be able to waste copious amounts of time with iPhoto, or click open my Finder services for the Oxford dictionary (the Webster widget doesn’t come close…).  And photobooth, and iChat (which I’ve just learned to use).  Pathetic, isn’t it?  Don’t even argue with me about this.  I’m a goner.  And iTunes?  Well.

Rod wants to know what’s on my playlist.  I don’t have an iPod (solitude, remember?) but I do happen to have three whole playlists on in my iTunes library which are organized very specifically.  And when I check the list of songs I’ve played most, the following come up.  They’re supposed to say much about who and what I am, or what I’ve been thinking.  But I’ve developed an odd habit at this point in my life.  I don’t listen to the words of songs.  I listen for the melody.  I listen to whether it’s written in a major or minor key, whether it’s sung by an uncomplicated voice and a single instrument, or an energetic voice and a band.  And it’s all connected to mood.  I listen when I have to write.  When I have to sit at the computer and am easily distracted.  I play it loudly, singing along — whether there are words or not.  So I’m not sure what these particular songs say about me.  I’ll have to think about it.  But I’ll have to figure out what the words are first.

She Is     The Fray     (40)

Snow     Red Hot Chili Peppers (37)

Betty     Kate Walsh  (26)

Savin’ Me     Nickelback (25)

If it Makes You Happy  Sheryl Crow  (25)

In Need  Sheryl Crow  (24)

What About Now  Daughtry  (23)

When the Lights go Down  Faith Hill  (23)

Photograph  Nickelback  (23)

Over You  Daughtry  (22)

Squeeze Me  Diana Krall  (22)

You’re Still Here  Faith Hill  (22)

Slow Like Honey  Fiona Apple  (22)

Tonight  Kate Walsh  (22)

Nearness of You  Norah Jones  (22)

This post was sponsored by Robert of Miscellaneous Ramblings who inquired about “Three Things I Wouldn’t Let Go,” and Rod of Inside Rod’s Head who insisted that “Our Players Don’t Lie.”  The links provide the directions which are blissfully uncomplicated.  Yes!  There is a meme god in the sky.

What do you think chick, vanessa, paisley, meleah, mel, jenny, phil, rj, scott, and micki (whom I know has a “meme-free” zone, but am asking the question anyway)?  It’s an interesting exercise combining the two…I’ll have to do some analysis on it after I figure out the words of the songs I’ve listed.

Have a splendiferous weekend.

I finally gave in. I turned on the AC. The MoH and the RT are out and about, so I’m blissfully content and for the first time in days, sans sweat running down my spine, drenching my shorts and giving the appearance I’ve sprouted a leak. I’m in heaven. Truly. I had almost forgotten what dry air feels like, so moist and sticky that it’s been here lately.

To celebrate the completely vacuous mood I’m in, I’m going to indulge in a bit of nothingness. I could rant about the recent ruling by a judge here in California that will severely limit water to SoCal to save smelt. Or about how much hair our family pets are shedding on everything no matter how much I vacuum. Or whine about gearing up to tackle the RT’s bedroom, but I could work up a sweat and that would destroy the peaceful, dimly lit calm I’m basking in.

Instead, I’ll comply with an obligation to a fellow blogger. An obligation to release some facts about who else? Me. Intriguing? Not necessarily. But pleasant for me to be able to remember, smile about, then write. Nothing to work up a sweat up about. So thanks to Caught in the Stream for the downtime today…much appreciated. Oh, it’s called the Fab 4, but that’s a matter for you to decide upon.

4 Jobs I’ve Held: Babysitter — I worked an entire summer watching my three cousins from 8-5 while my aunt worked. I earned $200 and thought I was rich. I was 15 years old…Grocery store frozen food clerk — I worked 4am-1 and ordered, stocked, and inventoried the freezer cases. I’d wake at 3am, pull my two small boys out of bed at 3:30, drive to my mother’s and put them in a double bed in her spare room, then get to work by 4:00. I can tell you that when you get in a warm car after working in a freezer, the fat on your rear end and thighs really itches as it thaws out. Could be handy information…Substitute teacher for five school districts — I did this for about two terrifying months until I was hired by one district and then given a contract. I truly detested not knowing when I went to bed at night where I’d be working, which grade level I’d be teaching, and worse, whether the teacher had left lesson plans or not. I intensely disliked the anticipation of that phone ringing at 5am as well. I had my best day subbing in a place I thought would be the worst, and the worst day in a place that should have been great. Yes, as much as I learned to love them most in later years, middle school kids are not very nice to substitute teachers. Ever. In fact, they’re every bit as ugly as you think they are. Well, except for that time those 3rd graders kept pulling the fire alarm. School Principal — Interesting, but not a fun job. And much more difficult than I believe people know. In my next life, I will not choose this job again. And I won’t explain why because I’d begin to sweat — defeating the purpose of taking the bait on this meme…

4 Films I Could Watch Over and Over (and already have): The Return of the King (my favorite in the Lord of the Rings trilogy…), The Grapes of Wrath (I love the story, the sets, the history, and Henry Fonda — goodness, but he was quite the intense hunk), Pride and Prejudice (the new one — not the old one, but I’d watch that one, too…).  Why?  Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy…and Notting Hill. I love the scrawny blonde male actor in this movie as well as several of the others I haven’t seen in other movies. Each time I watch it, I laugh.  This list could easily be 100 movies long. I love movies and some day will try and figure out just how many I’ve seen over the years instead of cleaning my house.

4 Television Shows I Watch: Right now, ZERO. Well, that isn’t quite true. I do believe there are a few more episodes of Top Chef left, aren’t there? And I watch DVRd What Not to Wear, but I’ve seen all of them, so am out of those as well. I eyeball MSNBC financial something or other in the morning while reading the paper after the MoH turns it on, but I wouldn’t turn it on myself. And I loved, loved, loved So You Think You Can Dance this summer and last, wishing I might have learned to dance, knowing that it would’ve been a very difficult path to take in life. But, oh to be able to move my body that way. Amazing. Over all, I’m less than enthused about television. I hear there are good shows out there, but never seem to get around to watching them. The commercials drive me nuts.

4 Places I’ve Lived: Key West, Florida, when I was in the first grade. I remember the heat, the clear water, my teacher, Mrs. Lindsay who beat me with a ping pong paddle, and giant oleander bushes. And those crabs in the ocean, too. Charleston, South Carolina, when I was in the second grade. I remember an easy walk to school, an enormous train yard, a dense forest beyond that, and a hurricane whose name I can’t remember. I also remember the white fence across the street from our house that had written on it: “F**k a rubber Duck,” and I wondered what that meant. Funny how your brain hangs on to stupid things like that…Rota, Spain, where I lived for four years and love to explore on Google Earth now to see how much it’s changed. Those were the very best years of my childhood — no contest. If I could go back in time to relive any part of my life, it would be this with absolutely no regret. San Diego, California, in about eleven different homes and communities over the years. It’s a pleasant place to live for many reasons — most of which I complain about frequently. It’s all in good fun, but variety would be lovely weather-wise. Add it all up and it’s a lifetime full of sun, sun, and more sun. It’s no wonder I’m a bit tired of it all.

4 Favorite Foods: So this is like the movie list. I could name 100. To be very simple…Pizza — I love, love, love it. Making it, ordering it, eating it. The only thing I don’t like about it is thinking about how anyone could put pineapple on it. YUCK. But proscuitto, parmesan, arugula and green apple is to die for. Steak — Perfectly seared and seasoned. Delicious. What else needs to be said? Cinnabon — No, not cinnamon rolls. Cinnabon. They’re just different, somehow. Especially that gooey part right in the middle when they’re fresh out of the oven. Goodness, they’re amazing. Salad — in every combination possible. Just get me a trough and I’ll jump in, grazing my way through it. But not slathered with bottled dressing. BLECH. Just light vinaigrettes — mostly made with citrus and olive oil. Delicious.

4 Websites I Visit Every Day: Hell, I don’t even visit my own every day now. But with the greatest frequency, not counting my own, La Mia Cucina, Wandering the Ether, Freak Parade, Thought Sparks, and Wonderland or Not. Oops! That was five. But there’s at least ten more I’ll check in on when I’m on line. Routinely.

4 Places I would Love to be Right Now: Floating on my back in the ocean while looking up at the clouds instead of swimming hard to the marker, turning around and huffing and puffing back to shore. It’s one of those “stopping to smell the flowers” aspects of life to take note of. On my way to France, then Italy, then England for a month-long decadent vacation. In the middle of a winter rain storm and sitting with a cup of tea, watching the palm trees lash around, listening to the rain drum against the skylights, and feel the wind blow up against me as I leave the house to get the mail. But I’ll settle for Reading a good book downstairs which is next on my agenda because I’ve finally finished another on my list.

4 Favorite Colors: cobalt, indigo, aquamarine, and turquoise. You know. Blue. The sad thing is, I don’t have much of it in my house, or in my closet. I wonder what that’s all about? I must be attracted to it because I’m full of piss and vinegar, fire and brimstone and need a bit of cooling off.

4 Names that I Love but Would/Could not use for My Children: Okay, so now this is lapsing into one of those junior high memes. Who thinks of this stuff? Huh? So how about Chloe, Zoe, Phoebe. I have three boys, so it would have been rude to have named any of them Chloe, Zoe, or Phoebe. Right? But what about Fabio? Oh, wait, that’s cheating. Or Atticus? Octavius? Okay. Popeye? Bwah-hahahahahahaha!

So, done. And no, I don’t know whom to tag. It seems like everyone’s done this one and I’ve been safe up until now. So if you’re completely brain dead and don’t have anything to write about, tag yourself and give it a go. It’s not too bad.

Maybe I should come up with my own meme…one that has a nice bite to it…

*Consider this post a public service announcement of sorts today. And if you just can’t force yourself to read the whole thing, then at least look for the bold print to speed you along and quit whining about how long my posts are. Is there a freaking rule about it?

I promised I’d do a food blog entry before I wrote here today. That hasn’t happened. I have absolutely no control. I’m wired to this thing and to this spot. I languish daily over all the possibilities:

The RT’s analysis of his PSAT prep class and 1,000 vocabulary cards

My CSS Web Design for Dummies book

The “checking off” of the 5th of my black cat’s nine lives

My deplorable ability to paint my own toenails

The impending fall season (not television…) and all that goes with it

My status as a Phoodplan dropout

Orb weavers

Breaking home run records

Food

or narcissism, hedonism, and nihilism…

I’m good to go on any of these right now. I always have something to write about. Always. I know that you are thinking that you may not be interested in reading about some of these topics, and I completely understand that. The point is that part of my interest in this obsession business of blogging is the opportunity it provides me to write. Just that.

Of course, a side benefit to keeping a blog, or in my case, two blogs, is that I can obsessively read others’ blogs. To learn from them in ways I may not by reading a book I’ve purchased, or by sitting in a room listening to someone talk about similar topics. As with all learning, however, I also learn what not to do. And so over the past four months since I’ve been maniacally driven to started blogging, my analysis of this very strange world has kept me holed up in my office and plastered to my computer enthralled.

It’s fascinating how many connections can be made between this world and the physical world we are supposed to breathe in daily. I won’t blather on about that now, because what I’m getting at is something not very Earth shattering:

We all “blog” for our very own reasons. DUH. And if you don’t want to read what follows immediately, then click down to my point at the end of this post. Just look for the lips.

• Some simply want traffic driven to their sites. They’ve heard they can earn quite a bit of money doing that. (More on that another time. I supposed I should have added “How not to be a sucker on the Internet” to my list of topics above. That story is a doozie.) Unfortunately, blogs like those are not something I’m interested in reading. Do they annoy you as much as they annoy me? I will click (because I do know that’s all they want at times) to take a peek, but a variety of characteristics of those blogs are less than interesting to me such as the quality of writing, complete lack of personality, quality of information (because that is what they say they are providing — information, right?), design, lack of any kind of discussion, commentary, or anything that makes the site human. It seems those who have created this particular kind of site frantically join communities, attach you as a “friend” and move on, never to be seen or heard from again. What’s the point? It reminds me of this: Let’s say you want to open a business. You feel that the best way to earn an income is by doing this. But you don’t want to put any real effort into it, and you really don’t know how to run the business, and you can’t really discuss in any real depth what you are selling, why you are selling it, who will be interested in buying it, or anything. You’ve opened the “store” and expect it to make money on auto pilot. Have I made my point? There are bloggers who have sites set up to sell product who are human, who write and sell, and respond to comments. Like they would if they had a brick and mortar place of business. I enjoy checking in on them to see what’s new.
• Other individuals enjoy keeping a type of journal. When I read those blogs, I am very much immersed in the person’s life and learn about what matters to them. What makes them angry. What cheers them. And very often, what is holding them down in life, or challenges them. I enjoy reading these blogs. I am able to compare what challenges me with what they are working to overcome, and I fall short routinely. These remarkable people, I think, are in part strengthened by their ability and willingness to write and share their lives with others. It wouldn’t be the same if I was actually holding their personal journal (because that’s not right), or listening to them speak in a room with others (although some of them would be fascinating to listen to). It’s different because they respond to comments. Simple.
• Lots of people from several areas of Bloggsville like humor. It ranges from people who NEVER write anything, but post a photo, or a video, or a quotation, or a link to another blog. No comment. I’m very guilty of being the chauffeur on a drive-by of those sites. But there are others who just have a way with words. Whether their words are about themselves, their beliefs, their opinions, their kids, their husbands, their bosses, or life in general, their writing can be hilarious. And I truly enjoy reading. Frequently. I love them because they stand proudly on their own soapbox and let it rip. And I miss them when they don’t write, or when I haven’t read their blog in a couple of days.
• Then there are the techies. And not just any techie, but the ones who ONLY do the techie thing. These sites are not always interesting because some are similar to the first example — they lack any kind of personality, seem to only be out to make a buck (sorry, but so are the hookers down town…), and reek of doing as little as possible to post with “content” borrowed from someone else. Of course, then there are some great tech sites with outstanding information that even people like me can understand and put to use. The person has taken the time to think about who may read and use the information and make it concrete. They have personality. They occasionally talk about something other than technology (because they aren’t androids). And they can actually write! I especially enjoy the tech sites that actually have comments on the posts (others have ZERO comments in the posts) and real humans respond to them. What a concept. Many are beyond intelligent and I have to sit and wonder how they know all that they know about the Internet, computers, and web design. I used to be able to change the tire on my 10-speed…
• And the writer’s groups. I hover around those routinely and enjoy reading hopeful writers, poets, fiction writers, and many very talented people who have built careers with their writing talent. Their sites remind me of what I might be like if I chose to have an Education blog — something my stomach isn’t yet strong enough to handle — where I could passionately debate, and eloquently inform the masses on important aspects of changes in the No Child Left Behind legislation, effective uses of Title I allocations, analyses of public school restroom cleanliness before and after The Williams Settlement, comparisons of state adopted textbooks and teacher created curricula, or validity and reliability of assessments used to measure student growth from one year to the next. Scathingly brilliant, don’t you think? Okay, so not. You wouldn’t read my blog if I wrote about those things, would you? I’d have to create another blog.
• And then there are the bloggers who have a tendency to remind me of cliques in school. They know who they are. That’s the whole point. What I have noticed is if I am not deemed “one of them,” I won’ t get a response. No, I don’t always expect a response or even acknowledgement. But they NEVER respond to comments I’ve left on their sites, and they don’t seem to visit mine. My feelings *whaaaa-whawahwah….*aren’t hurt because I get it. Truly. Perhaps part of the fun is belonging to a group, and then being very public about belonging to that group, so that others can see that you belong to that group. Huh? Just in case you’re actually still reading this, I’m not whining. I’m providing an objective view of Bloggsville. Oh, and it’s entertaining to read along with others who are seriously pissed off about those supposed cliques. Be a fly on the wall and watch it all.
• Food blogs. Jeez, if you haven’t seen the great ones, you are TOTALLY missing out. They’re amazing and there’s some serious mud slinging thrown in for good measure occasionally. I only have a big toe wedged into that world and I’ll tell you, it’s work. Of course I love to cook, love reading recipes like they were entries in a forbidden diary, love planning parties, and eating, of course. The writing is so different for me, and I’ve struggled to find a “me” at all. I’m getting there, but sheesh, it’s hard work. Think about it. Shopping and cooking all turns into blog material. Everything gets photographed. The lighting sucks, or I don’t know how to use a particular setting on my camera. I don’t take time to use great props (huh?) and how cold does that food get while I’m clicking away? Can you imagine the shrink bills to fix the RT when he hits 30 and realizes all his struggles are because his mom took photos of his food? It’s actually fascinating and I enjoy it quite a bit, but I’ve noticed that the hard core bloggers (whatever that means) sort of just keep a wide path around the food blog group. Funny thing is though, for all the maniacs that just want people to visit their blog…MY TECHNORATI RANKING WAS SO MUCH HIGHER on my food blog very early on with much fewer posts than this one has. It has a built in audience and foodies spend a lot of time on each others’ sites reading and commenting and developing community. Interesting, don’t you think? So much for the link train. I’d rather cook and write recipes. It’s constructive.
• Sports blogs, gardening blogs, entertainment blogs, celeb gossip blogs, political blogs…I could keep going, but I won’t. I truly make an effort to look at them all.

So here’s my point. (Pull your drawers out of your crack and chill out) MEMES, AWARDS, and LINKS.

1. Memes exist in part to help people who can’t think of something to write something to write. Right? In some cases (much like prompts for writers) memes can help people exercise their writing skills — if they choose to see it from that perspective. But 8,000 memes? Come on. I’m at the point where anything goes the next time I get tagged so get ready.
2. Memes in content focused blogs can be interesting because content people only write content, and when you read their blogs on a regular basis, some people want to know more about the blogger. (I’m trying to be understanding here.) Of course, a flyin’ finger could be considered a response.
3. Links. Link Trains. Rankings. Yanno…..I’m really struggling with this one because I work VERY HARD to visit and comment on other’s blogs. Yes it takes a lot of time, but it is worth it. Isn’t that the real point? The whole ranking thing is…uh…I dunno. Lame? How will having the ranking change things? Really. I need to pull mine off my sidebar, but I don’t feel like digging into my files right now. Trust me. It will be gone.
4. Awards. It’s swell that people came up with this idea. It think it’s great. I even think it’s great that if someone wants to build a mantel to show off their awards, good for them. If they want to ignore the whole thing, good for them. A person’s blog is HER/HIS BLOG. If someone else doesn’t like how another blogger does what he does, then READ SOMEONE ELSE’S BLOG. There are only about a billion of them to choose from. Go crazy.

The minute we all decided to make our blogs public — and we do get that option — we were fair game. But I’m certainly not going to walk up to my neighbors and tell them that I don’t like the plant that’s blooming in the pot on their porch. Just because I drive by their houses each and every day, I don’t have to interact with them (they don’t appear to want anyone to smile and wave hello. Ever. I know this.) and I certainly would expect them to give me shit if I acted like an arrogant ass (arrogant entitlement abounds in Paradise). I do know how to keep my mouth shut when what is coming out of it just heats up the air (like now.)

 

So…let’s all agree that we’re all swaggering, narcissistic swashbucklers, who through our small slices of Bloggsville, are working post by egotistic post to achieve hedonistic nirvana. I hereby award everyone who enjoys my verbal crapulence, and everyone whose blog I enjoy, this dubious distinction. Wear it proudly.

Yes, you can use it. No, you don’t have to give me credit. Sorry. I don’t know how to do the html thing. Well, I could probably figure it out…but not right now. I’ve already spent an entire morning here and still haven’t done my food blog post. *sigh*

Come on. I double dare you to use it. Bwah-hahahahahahahaaha

Today is the day. You will finally understand what you have suspected all along: that I am, in fact, not a person, but a trained seal. Offer me a meme, and I bark on cue. For free! I have Mark to thank for this one. Mark over at Mark Base - Helsingblog. He who runs an interesting series of posts on pub toilets. Yes. I know. But he does have quite the way with words and has an interesting spin on the “8 Random Facts” meme. He’s put out a challenge to choose those who are perched in our “Friends” categories, but who we may not frequent or comment on much…How does that happen?  Too many blogs, too little time?  Fickleness?  Attention Deficit Disorder?

Rules:

• Post the rules before you cough up more exciting gossip about yourself give your facts
• List eight (8), not 7 or 9 or 19 like I have done before
  
• At the end of your post, sucker punch unsuspecting and innocent bystanders unfortunate enough to be in your “friends” category choose (tag) eight people and list their names (linking to them) which takes freaking forever.
• Leave them a comment on their blog letting them know they’ve been hornswaggled and then bamboozled tagged.

Yes! More excruciatingly droll information about me that you may not have known because it isn’t buried in my archives. And yes, I’m tagging today, so look for your name at the bottom of my drivel, then count yourself as one of my anointed “friends.” I hereby solemnly swear that I will stop by your blog more than I do, which sadly, isn’t very much. And for that I am wholeheartedly sorry. I know it’s worthy of my time, but in my addled state, I meander around the web and get lost, never to return, but happy that I’ve collected a few new bright, shiny things along the way.

Now let’s proceed, randomly:

1. It’s official: UCSD and Harvard have announced that “Obesity is ‘Socially Contagious.’” I’m a heifer because of my friends. It’s all their fault. Well, not all of them. Just the other heifers. Listen carefully and you will hear us lowing in the meadow while we chew the grass. We do have skinny friends who have resisted our evil influence, however. Uh…one. I’m thinking of challenging the study’s findings, questioning the impact a particular profession can have on an individual — especially when colleagues are also friends. But hey! Good news: the study has proven that fatness and thinness are both contagious. That means if I make a concerted effort to rub elbows with those less than gifted in the adipose department, I’ll drop some lubs.
2. I do not have a gazebo. I know this comes as a shocker, but it’s true. Nor a pergola, a belvedere, or summerhouse. I used to have a sort of shed, though, on the property of our old house. My oldest son built it when he was fifteen to have a space away from The Rest of the Family. It didn’t work, because we’d all go out there to bother him. He used to sleep in it occasionally, even though he neglected to build it large enough to stretch out in. Dreams of it rolling down the bank it was perched on stopped him from spending the night there. When I last drove by our old house, I saw the shed still standing, nicely painted, and glad that the new owners were taking care of it.
3. I routinely have to suppress the urge to label all my closets. There’s just something about the notion of having little stickers beneath sweaters and shoes I no longer have to wear or want to wear that say, “Black Pumps,” or “Black Sandals” or “Black Loafers.” The urge lasts about 2 seconds, and then I snap out of it. I have purchased a label maker, and now realize that others have this same disturbing tendency.
4. Less than two hours after posting an ad on craigslist yesterday for a free BBQ, the old black grease behemoth was gone. Bah-dah-bing. I even helped the guy hoist it into his truck. After nearly five years of living in this pseudo hoity Gated Reach Out and Touch your Neighbor McHood where we are not allowed to put our trash cans out before a certain time on trash day — let alone park things on the curb — I have discovered the free section of craigslist. So now you know that I not only recycle, but I’m a bit slow on the uptake.
5. I don’t really get jokes. Or comics. Or the “funnies.” If laughter is the way we’re supposed to measure whether jokes and comics are humorous, then there’s something wrong with me. On the rare occasion that I laugh at a joke, I promise that I will commit it to memory, and tell it to a group of people who will howl with laughter. But I can’t. Not only can I not tell it, I don’t even remember the whole joke. The only joke I will even attempt to tell is one that the MoH rescues me from every time he hears me try to tell it. The one about the man who goes into a bar with a monkey that ends up eating a cue ball…
6. I love to watch people. They’re interesting in all their individual glory. The entitled folk get me going once in a while, but for the most part, I don’t get too worked up over the others. Okay. So, occasionally when they’re completely obnoxious. Arrogant. Single-minded. Loud-mouthed. Entitled. Jerks. Entitlement doesn’t necessarily equate with being “moneyed.” Therefore, a woman in Target (men don’t do this) who leaves her cart in the middle of the aisle while she is 10 feet away blathering loudly on her cell about her latest Brazilian wax job while trying to decide which celebrity gossip magazine to purchase can be equally as annoying as the person in the Jag who is sitting in the middle of the street waiting for someone to vacate his parking place. Someone who isn’t yet at his car door. Isn’t even walking in the direction of his car. Both types fascinate me with their complete and utter self-absorption.
7. I’d like to not notice that people use it’s when its is correct. Or their instead of they’re. And affect when effect is the accurate word. And use then instead of than. No lesson is coming, but allow me to introduce the best little book ever published — The Elements of Style. Yes, we all have fun torturing the English language with our blogs. For me, it’s a large part of my enjoyment. But knowing which word to use, or more importantly, how to spell it is not the same thing. I know. I’m a bitch.
8. I love words. I especially love it when others over use them, such as in this book review of Breaking the Rules. The reviewer pulls out all the stops AND his thesaurus to try an impress with phrases such as “malleable and amorphous body of generalizations,” “copious research and data compilation comprise compelling evidence that lends credence…” Or slings around words such as iconoclasm, dictum, morass, execrable, and quagmire. But I have never heard or read the word foredoom. Why would anyone choose to use it and expect to be taken seriously?

Now for my “friends.” Aren’t you sorry you clicked that button at Blog Catalog or My Blog Log? Blame it on Mark, though. It’s his fault. But I did enjoy visiting your blogs today, reading your writing, smiling at your memories, and admiring what you’ve done with your blogs. I’ll try and be a better “friend.”

WRITING TRUE

Word Strumpet

“Sleeping Kitten - Dancing Dog!”

Finding Flabuless

Life 2.0

I Eat Snowman Poop

Goodness Graciousness

the rogue professor’s blog

I haven’t put a message on your blogs yet. Sorry. You can Un-Friend me if you’d like. That will serve me right.

I’m taking the seriously easy way out today by redirecting you to my other blog where I got seriously whacked by two food bloggers with a meme.  Sounds dangerous, huh?  They’re completely lovely people, so I feel honored to have been run over by the meme train once again.  I know.  But you know me.  If anyone can do a meme, it’s me.  Blah, blah, blah.  I try to make it interesting.  So if you’re really bored and you can’t live without me (it’s Friday for gawdsake) then go there.

And in the mean time, thanks very much to those of you who sent kudos my mom’s way.  She’s should be in Las Vegas about now.  I hope the hotel is hiding their lamp shades.

Par-tay on, Mom!  Woot!