My Dinner With Foolery: The Floor Show

FINALLY! Here are the questions for our distinguished panel of bloggers. While you finish up the last of the lime jello with tuna and the sodden Canadian bacon pizza that must have been sprayed when I opened that last fizzy bottle of tonic, our eleven blog authors will answer the questions I have painstakingly written on cue cards at 2:00 a.m. (those same questions which seemed a whole lot more coherent before the gin ran out).

Here now is a brief description of each writer and his/her blog, followed by a question from one of YOU. Feel free to ask any more questions in the comments that you'd like. Have fun!

Barking Mad!
Way up in the wilds of Maine, Miss Auds had this great idea to help all of us share our favorite blogs, get to know new bloggers, and find new undiscovered treasures out there in Bloggywood. The bloggy dinner party was her idea, and it is cropping up everywhere around the net in many different forms. Auds is warm and witty, an experienced writer, with a whole lot of life experience for such a young blogger. She packs a lot into a small space, and you never know what you'll find -- from very moving to funny to hair-caught-in-the-Dyson hilarity. Barking Mad! is aptly named.

Some questions for Auds. First, from Erin at Mamadance:
"Could you ask Auds if she could share the recipe for her mom's fried chicken? My husband and I have been trying to perfect our recipe but it's still a work in progress."

And, from my friend Gubby (who's known around Twitter as ijefff):
"Auds, what do you do when a lobster grabs your hair? Do you call 911 or call an exterminator? Did you know that lobsters are cousins to cockroaches? Same phylum or something. That is all. Oh, wait -- have you considered wearing a helmet around the house?"

And from Yours Truly, "I know you have at least one book in the works. Do you prefer to write fiction or nonfiction? Or are you comfortable with both?"

 
Alias Liz Jones
I've known Alias Liz under many different aliases for several years now. For her love of chickens, for her smart mouth, and for her Far Side interpretation of the world, it's hard to beat Alias Liz for jaw-dropping hilarious and surprisingly sweet and warm essays, on occasion. Plus, she likes chickens.

A question for Alias Liz from panelist Sarah at OK . . . Where Was I?:
"How 'real' are you on your blog? For instance, do your friends and/or family know you blog? Sorry, that's two. That's a carry-over from my teaching days when I had rooms full of stupefied looking students staring at me until I said something like 'for example....'"

Ask Grandma J
Who else but Grandma J could document the daily activities of water aerobics devotees? Her stories of her relative Rita (I think it's her mother) had me on the floor. Grandma J has a unique, funny voice, and her illustrations are so much fun. Well, Chesapeake Bay Woman has asked Grandma J something -- see how I did that? Did your heart skip a beat? I should write segues for "The Today Show." Or somebody should -- "I have a few questions for Grandma J. If you were hilarious earlier in life, which I suspect you were, what was your outlet for your humor, in the days before blogs? How did you make people laugh? Describe the most flavorful character in your compound. I don't mean describe someone you've tasted, although I am sure that would make for good reading. I mean who in your midst could be a character in a sitcom or a movie or a book and why? That's enough for now. I used to interview people for a living, and I can come up with questions all day long."

 
The Bean
Bejewell, or "Beej," as she's known around the internets, so often says what I'm thinking, without any much self-filtering and without pulling any punches. She loves salty language, so cover your toddler's ears while you wonder, "Why couldn't I say it like that?" I love her free-association posts; she lets you in on the sometimes-schizophrenic-often-neurotic-constantly-funny thought process of a creative person. And her little boy is SCARY cute.

So Meg from Soup Is Not a Finger Food interrupted her weekend away to ask Beej, "How is it that you manage to make it so charming and endearing when you declare yourself and your posts &$#!ING AWESOME? I am totally drinking your Kool-Aid because I do, in fact, find your blog to be &$#!ING AWESOME. I myself am afraid to drop the F-bomb on my own blog -- I've hinted at it but never served it straight-up. Why is that? I must not be &$#!ING AWESOME." This is just a guess, Beej, but I think she wants to know how you make the F-bomb work for you, while staying &$#!ING AWESOME.

 
I Think We're All Bozos On This Bus
Kathi is one of my newest blog finds, and she knocks me out almost every time I read there. I have to explain to Chas why I'm making those donkey noises when I read Kathi's stuff. BEST CHICKEN PICTURE AND STORIES, PERIOD. Her readers appear to be a close-knit bunch, almost as funny as she is, by their comments. It's such a treat, and quite surreal, to read her blog any given day. Go check out her chickens and her brother Bob and see if I'm right.

I have a question for Miss Kathi: "I haven't been reading your blog long enough to know what one does at a writers' workshop (like the one you just attended), other than ice skate, of course. Can you explain? Or maybe tell us what a REAL writer does? Because jeez louise, I think I need to know."

The Jason Show
Jason pulls no punches when telling his stories. Sometimes they make me cringe; sometimes they make me cry; more often than that they make me laugh in total disbelief. It's easy to ask, "Is he for REAL?" when Jason tells stories from his childhood, but his family read his blog, and they add details to his otherworldly stories. Ask him about his childhood basement. Go on, ask him. He's wonderful. You'll love him.

And Alias Liz Jones IS asking him . . . "Please ask Jason: 'What's the biggest reward and what's the biggest disappointment of being a teacher?' I know, it's lame, but that's my question. If I'm not supposed to ask one, then scratch that." Of course you're supposed to ask, Liz, and if you didn't ask I'd have to come down and haul you out of the Gas'n'Sip and MAKE you!

June Cleaver Nirvana
Holly has some blog staples you just have to read to understand: What's In Holly's Fruit Bowl? Peep of the Week, and What's Up With Holly's Coccyx? They're all part of the Monday potluck. Then there are Holly's graphic stories, which is not NEARLY as dirty as it sounds. Very funny and creative blog which you must try to squeeze into your blog reading . . . somewhere . . .

I have a question for JCN: "So Holly, I want to know, how long does it take you to do your imaginative and very funny graphic stories? Lots of people write on photos (myself included), but you start with a white canvas -- how did you get started with this technique? Also, my coccyx LOVES Bowen Therapy. Just sayin'."

Life In Mathews
Chesapeake Bay Woman and I are exactly six months apart in age. Bit o' trivia. Okay, so if you're not reading Life In Mathews to find out what goes on in the tiny Virginia hamlet of Mathews, why the hell aren't you? CBW, as her loyal readers call her, takes you every day on a virtual tour of a different part of this gorgeous village. She is infested with crabs, but don't let that color her opinion of her (because the infestation is a landscaping problem, not a personal problem). Her boat is tucked neatly away in its boat house, sinking. And her family is more colorful and lively than almost any other you could name.

So Grandma J wants to know, "1. What was your major in college? 2. What big city did you move to before coming back to Mathews? 3. Do you take after your mom or dad? 4. What was your hobby or pastime before you blogged?
The end,
Love,
Grandma J"

The Mom Bomb
I have a special kinship with The Mom Bomb: she grew up about 140 miles away, maybe, give or take a few miles, and she's heard of Orland and she STILL TALKS TO ME! Which, of course, makes me wonder about her sanity. But I don't wonder too long, because she is one of the more sane crazy people I have never met. Anyone who is married by a fake rabbi (who is later busted in a nationally-televised sting operation), who can have a very convincing conversation with General Patton (in which he essentially chews her out), and whose children have created a game show about her butt -- wait, where was I going with this?  Mom Bomb is a gifted writer and someone I'd love to have a four-martini lunch with.

So my question for you, Miss Bomb, is: "You have some serious (and funny) writing chops, and have an interest in being A Writer. How has blogging changed your perspective on writing, if it has? Does it take away from your writing-with-a-purpose efforts, or does it enhance them? Also, what will you be having for Thanksgiving dinner this year?"

Mommy Pie
I have never seen myself publicly topless wearing green body paint and a smile . . . until I met Mommy Pie. I had never heard the word "Doogs," which is an upgrade for "Peeps," I think . . . until I met Mommy Pie.  And while I have never actually MET Mommy Pie, I feel as if I know her. Accompanying her to her monthly office cocktail parties, tiptoeing behind her as she plasters Obama bumper stickers on her conservative boss's car, trying out unfamiliar expletives like "BALLS" for just about any reason . . . this is all new territory for a fuddy-duddy like me, and yet it feels so easy. Mommy Pie is a breath of fresh air, and the only person I know who is engaged to herself. So I'm  asking her . . .

"Mommy Pie, how tall are you, and could you be convinced to move to Phoenix? Because I'm fairly sure you should marry into my family. Also, will you share some of your blogging philosophy, such as how it has changed over time, or your hopes for your writing?"

OK . . . Where Was I?
Sarah, as far as I know, coined the word "hillbility" to describe that part of most of us that we do our damnedest to hide from cameras and passing motorists. Sarah celebrates her hillbility, as well as her two beautiful sons and their idyllic life together, on her blog. Her photos of barns in her midwestern surroundings are truly beautiful, even if I can't leave a Flickr comment because I don't have an account. And her serial story about her past love affair with Temistocles (Not His Real Name), as well as her decorating feature "Design After a Dimebag" (yes, that's exactly what you think it is), have rendered me snorting and honking and otherwise completely incapacitated for minutes at a time after reading them. Sarah is the college professor I always wanted, 25 years too late.

This question for Sarah comes from scrappysue of My Home Wellingtontown: "How was her honeymoon in Egypt with the lovely James Spader?" And if this question makes no sense to you, be sure to stop by OK . . . Where Was I? to see some lovely PhotoShop creations pictures of Sarah's victim boyfriend James Spader.

I have one more question for ALL of our dinner panelists tonight, as well as for anyone who would like to jump in and answer it, and that is this:

"If you could select any company, person, product or cause for which to become the PAID spokesperson, using your blog as the medium, which/who/what would you choose? And all of the yada yada yada follow-up stuff that goes with that question; you get it."

I have another dinner party in the works, once I get settled into our new house. I have a whole different set of criteria for that one; watch for it to come.

Thank you all for coming and graciously playing along with my latest evidence of rapid-onset dementia. I hope the comment section will be lively. Feel free to toss in your own questions, and holler when I need to make a beer run. Do we need more ice?

Comments

[Meg]

Beej, you are FUCKING AWESOME girl! I mean, it's kinda hard to get a word in edgewise, what with all the parentheticals and all, but the thing is, I totally follow you the whole FUCKING WAY.

There - that feels good! Maybe I'll try one on my own blog instead of in Laurie's comments.

Wow, we've been at this for a while... did I pass out on the futon? Oh gawd, that's so embarassing, I hate when I do that. I should know better than to mix gin and liver & onions. GAH.

Raise your hand if you think we should all throw in an Andrew Jackson and hire a cleaning crew to make it look like we were never here?

[mommypie]

Okay, gotta think on the second part of this ...

[mommypie]

Well, I'm not TOO giant. I'm 5'10" although I'm convinced I've begun to shrink. Plus, I have terrible posture, which takes some off the height.

Does this make me short enough for Mantle Man??

As for my blogging philosophy ... hmmm. I love to write, which doesn't necessarily mean I'm any GOOD at it. I just love it. And I try to write about things I'd tell my IRL friends about. Because you guys are my friends too. And for me, the relationships are a BIG part of the appeal.

Even though, so far, I'm an open book with my daughter, I also want the blog to serve as something she can look at some day when she's older and go, "Huh. That's my mom." Because as kids, (at least it was for me) it's hard to GET that your parents are actually REAL people.

I guess that's it. I just keep trying to get better at the whole blog thing, but when I have people like YOU serving as my storytelling measuring stick ... let's just say you're a hard act to follow Ms. Lagmore!

[Alias Liz Jones]

My head hurts and I feel whiny. Sorry about your shoe Swams. I burned it a little. There's a small burn there. I'll put some tape over it. Now pass the whiskey back please. Hair of the dog you know. I bet that you'll never invite me back because I burned your sofa too, but really it wasn't my fault. Someone threw a BBQ weiner at me and startled me.

Sarah, of course. I know, I know. None of us would ever think that you would associate with people that get high...I'm leaving you a cigarette extender. I had an extra in tortoise. Thanks for standing on the curb with me while I smoked. Thanks for helping me cover up the burn holes in Swami's carpet too.

Thanks Swami for the great party. What's fer breakfast? I don't have to be anywhere.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

OK. I need some aspirin. Many. My legs are sore. Did somebody try to teach me to break dance or did I just dream that?

Also, someone drew a moustache on me while I napped in the corner. Wait, no, I already had that, nevermind.

I had a great time. Thanks so much.

[Rick's Cafe]

You weren't kidding about the traffic issue - these roads aren't very wide.

I pulled the beer truck around back so your neighbors wouldn't be bothered or complain....too much.

(One of these days I'll figure out how to steal and post photos like everyone else does.)

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

Do y'all recycle? Because we have a lot of empties over here.

And those beets you don't want? Toss 'em to me. I'll put them between two slices of Scrapple and call it Scrabble. Or Scrappbeetle.

Do you have any disco music? Crank it up!

[foolery]

There were LOTS of cocktail wieners, CBW, and there still are -- over between the coffee maker and Snorpht's lutefisk.

DING DING DING DING DING! Hello? Hello! Everyone, excuse me please, may I have your attention for a moment? Liz? 'Scuse me, darlin'; that's not an ashtray -- that's my shoe. 'Kay. Oh, and Liz? Can I get a hit of that whiskey? I'm a little hoarse -- WHOA! *smooooooothe* *ack* *ack* AHEM.

Um, I have been checking in and giggling, and marveling at the creativity and individuality of my friends, all day long. But since it was a work day and I was actually fairly busy, I just got to sneak looks, for the most part.

A couple of people called and said they were stuck in traffic, which I of course TOTALLY believe because around dinner time the tractor count on the back roads goes WAY up. With luck Jason and Mommy Pie and Miss Auds will pull into the driveway any time now.

There's still a lot of food left, and no one has touched my spinach salad with unloved, hateful beets.

Thank you all for coming, and for making this FUN. I knew it was a good group for that.

But there are so many more of you out there -- bloggers that I have loved a long time, bloggers I have just tripped over recently, and bloggers who intimidate me a bit so that I would have a hard time uttering their names above a whisper. I think I have at least one more bloggy dinner party in me, but I will give it a little time so I don't bore people to tears. Moreso, I mean.

Dancing has apparently started out by the pool, which is far out. I hope any of you will feel comfortable enough to stand up on the coffee table and answer questions, because that's what we're here for. That, and the mystery meat in that crock pot over there.

Kisses, y'all! Thanks for coming, and let's keep the party going!

-- Foolery

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

Now that I've guzzled all that wine, I really need something to eat. I can eat Scrapple any old day, so I am diving headfirst into the cocktail weinies.

(Were there cocktail weinies, by the way? I can't recall.)

[texasholly @ June Cleaver Nirvana]

I am popping back into the party for just a sec. It appears that there are footprints on the table--dancing?

I have decided that I should be the spokesperson for personal concierge services for the home. I am hoping that if I promote their services, I might get a concierge for free? Cuz I could really use one. Today.

[Kathi D]

OK, I'm taking another turn now. I have been quiet about as long as I can. But when you shut up, you do get to hear some pretty cool stuff, huh?

Anyway. I would endorse King's brand hen scratch. Because the girls love it just like candy and they will do anything for it.

The girl chickens, I mean. It's nothing kinky.

[Big Hair Envy]

This party has been wonderful, but I am tipsy and getting a bit sleepy. Foolery, do you need a little help cleaning up? I can burn all of the Chinet in my trash barrel if you'd like. There will be less to bag up for those wonderful men who come and actually pick up YOUR trash!

Good night everyone. Don't forget to take a couple of Tums before crashing:)

[Ok, Where Was I?]

I think the cigarette extender is just marvelous! The very first thing I thought was CLASSY.

And I'm the non-smoker who ALWAYS goes out to smoke with the smokers. I don't socialize much, so that doesn't happen often, and as a result it always gives me kind of a high.

Not that I know the first thing about getting high, of course.

[Alias Liz Jones]

Well, here I am. I'm sitting over here in the corner beside the hotdogs. I'm picking at my fingernails and staring at the floor. It's just me, Alias Liz. I feel so socially retarded because everyone here is so clever. My mother used to tell me that I was smart. I'm beginning to think it was because she was my mother. I catch on late. But still.

I need to go out and have a cigarette.

I know... I know....it's that 'cigarette smoking blogger', you may be thinking. That's right. I'm going to light one up and stand on the corner looking like a poor addicted prostitute. I knew that I shouldn't have worn my bright purple leotards. The cigarette extender wasn't too classy either.

Well, thank you Sarah for the question. Really, I didn't think that anyone would ask me a question. Well, maybe they may ask me something such as 'why do you blog all of the bs, Liz, and when will you stop?"
That sort of worried me. You're too kind.

Yes, my blog is for real. Do I tell anyone? No. I'm fairly private. When you think about it, that's rather stupid to blog if you're all private. But then, why not blog, I thought. Let the world know what kind of ignorance is out loose on the web. It seemed natural.

Thanks Sarah, for asking.

Well, thank you so very much Swami for inviting me and for your kind words. I have to think about your question. That's a difficult one. Is it ok if I just throw this cigarette in the gutter and swill some whiskey. I have some in a fruit jar.

This was fun. I loved reading everyone's comments and questions. Have you got a paper towel? I just dropped a frog leg on your floor.
Love xo
Liz

[Grandma J]

If I could be a spokesperson for an organization, it would be for LLS...Leukemia Lyphoma Society. I already raise funds and do The Light the Night Walks, but if I wasn't so lazy, I'd do more. My cry to the masses would be "donate blood, it's the gift of life that money can't buy"
Of course raising money for research is imperative.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

As if your eyes aren't already crossed from all of my hot air, I did neglect to answer the last question about company sponsorship.

If someone would just please invent Cialis for the Brain Cells, which would jump start brain cell function to the point of being able to remember anything and navigate successfully through a day, I'd do their commercials for free as long as they gave me a lifetime supply.

[Ok, Where Was I?]

I don't know why I was thinking mental illness as my area for spokespersonship. I mean, I do. Of course I do. But I've got it. I should be the spokesperson for "as seen on tv" stuff. I love it. I don't buy any of it b/c I know it doesn't work, but as long as I don't actually come in contact with any of it, I can be really pumped about it. That liquid leather stuff looks amazing. How does that work? I should have some major ad space on my blog for that kind of stuff. That bullet blender thing too.

[bejewell]

Oh, and I didn't answer the spokesperson question. This is because I have absolutely NO IDEA. I'll have to think about that and get back with you.

I can't wait to see what I come up with! I mean, I can't wait to see what everyone else comes up with!

[bejewell]

Meg, Meg, Meg, Meg, MEG. Such a sweet, innocent question. The truth is, I write pretty much EXACTLY how I talk. And how I think.

My blog writing is very much a stream-of-consciousness thing, at least, mostly. In fact, I usually have to go back and take out a few F-bombs because in real life I have got the WORST pottymouth EVER.

We started a swear jar for the Bean once and within 24 hours I owed it 47 DOLLARS. That is 47 times within a 24 hour period that I swore. And that was after a heated debate in which I argued that "little" curse words like "ass" and "tits" shouldn't count, an argument that I won and which probably-definitely saved me a shitload of money.

("Shitload" DOES count though, which was another debate, which I obviously lost. Although I still contend that if it's combined with a regular word, the regular word dilutes the vulgarity by half and therefore I should only have to pay 50 cents for it instead of a full dollar.)

(Also, I believe a dollar is too steep a price for the swear monkey. It is unreasonable to expect me to pony up a full dollar for every curse word. At this rate, the Bean will have his college tuition bought and paid for by the age of two.)

(Did I mention that the swear jar is shaped like a monkey? I should clarify that in case you were wondering what the hell a swear monkey is. That could sound very weird if you aren't in the "know" and you might think I'm even weirder than I actually am, which is saying something.)

Anyway, my point is, I write pretty much exactly what I'm thinking, warts and all, F-bombs and all, and then I'll go back and read before I hit the "publish" button and sometimes I'll think, "Oh my God I am HILARIOUS" and then on other occasions I'll think "Jesus, what is WRONG with me?" and other times I'll go, "Wow, there is no WAY I can let this ever see the light of day, someone's gonna read this and come after my hide." And sometimes I'll change stuff and sometimes I won't.

Obviously I've forgotten what the question was. But thanks for asking!

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

Sorry to have left the party, but that stinking job got in the way.

To answer my New-Found Relative Grandma J's questions (because your answers to those questions could have been written by me), here goes:

1. My major in college was Latin American Studies. I panicked when I had to declare a major becuase I honestly had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up. (I still don't.) My intention at the time was to go into the Peace Corps. That didn't happen. Then I wanted to be a teacher. That didn't happen. So instead I put that degree to work as a secretary (yay!) and eventually worked my way up to dizzying heights in the ever-so-boring field of Human Resources. And now, I have a government job, so I am just dizzy from the fumes of brain cells and logic grinding to a stifling halt. The End.

2. The Big City I lived in before Mathews was the suburbs of Washington, DC, aka Northern Va. (It really should be a separate state.) After college I spent six long months at home twirling my hair and wondering how I could use a Latin American Studies degree in a small town that doesn't even know what a spring roll is (other than a romp in the hay). I was all signed up to go to William and Mary to get my teacher's certificate, but a stint of substitute teaching cured me of that. A friend got me a piddly job in a major corporation in No.Va. and I said I'd try it out, gain some experience and move back here to Mathews. Well, yaddayaddayadda I stayed there 13 years. I lived in McLean, Falls Church and Annandale. I hated the neurotic pace of life, the emphasis on Spend Spend Spend, the traffic, the congestion and the fact that if I wanted to empty my trash in my underwear, about 400 people would see me. Now, I can do that and only my family sees me. Not that I do it intentionally, you know. Just saying.

3. Do I take after my Mumma or Daddy? The answer to that question is YES. (Both.) But I don't have enough real estate here to answer that fully ... I'll e-mail ya. The short answer is I have Mumma's sense of balance and ability to make light of it, and Daddy's work ethic and ability to poke fun at everything. Like you, we have learned due to adversities that you can either let it get you down or turn it into something funny, even if we're the only ones who think it's funny.

4. My hobby prior to blogging. Wait a sec - there was life before blogging?? I don't recollect that. I suppose I could say traveling, although due to working and parenting I didn't do as much of that as I'd like and would spend hours leafing through travel brochures - I would like to be a Sakajuwea (spelled wrong but too lazy to look it up) on a Lewis and Clark expedition into the unknown..except I think all the unknowns have been made known. Also, I used to like to treasure hunt in thrift shops. That was probably my one big obsesesion before blogging.

Sorry ,Gracious Hostess, for taking up all this real estate. You can charge me a propety tax or just take this pass to comment as much or as long as you want whenever you're over at my house.

Now I'm going to sample some of this excellent cuisine. That 7 layer dip looks marvelous.

BTW ordinarily I am an introvert who sits in the corner at these parties and guzzles wine, so I don't know what came over me with all this hot air and yacking. Off to guzzle wine now.

(Kisses to Foolery.)

[Kathi D]

By the way, your friends are just lovely, and I am so enjoying the company.

And yes, I almost always do talk too much. It's not my fault. It's the ADD.

I will be quiet now. Your turn to talk. (ziiiiipppp!)

[Kathi D]

By the way. Even though I came a little late? I'm sorry, but I won't be able to stay and help clean up.

I, uh, er, um. I, uh. I have to tuck my grandma in. Yes, that's it.

Meanwhile, pour me a drink and let's talk.

[Kathi D]

I haven't been here long, but I think the scrapple is repeating on me.

erp

[Kathi D]

OH, I will give the dinner party a Hot Scoop instead of saving it for my own blog. I am All About People, that's why.

Remember a while back a viral e-mail went around accusing ABC White House Correspondent Martha Raddatz of editing a piece she did in Iraq to make it seem like active duty soldiers were supporting the Democratic candidates more than McCain? I must have gotten that thing a dozen times. Anyway, it was refuted, which of course nobody ever sees.

Well. I got the word straight from Martha Raddatz HERSELF that it was a big fat lie. Also, she said that at first she was polite about refuting the claim, but later on, she took to calling people up and saying, "Hello, this is Martha Raddatz. Why did you forward that lying e-mail about me???"

[Kathi D]

Yes, thank you. I will elaborate on the duties of a Real Writer. As I see it, the main thing is to make sure people are buying your book. You have to go to lots of Writers' Conferences and talk about your book in hopes that many people will buy it. And hopefully tell other people to buy it. You may or may not get paid well to go to all these things, but really, they are pretty much like Luxury Summer Camp where all the food is free and actually good, and you get to hang out with other writers for a while instead of being locked in your garret alone. If you are the Writer's Spouse, you get to do all this without even working. That is why my Rick wants to be a Writer's Spouse.

Oh, I forgot one part.

First, you have to Write a Book. Then you have to get someone to publish it.

The rest is pretty much what I said.

Now, as to what *I* do at the Writers' Conference? I pretty much stalk my favorite writers and ask geeky embarrassing questions in an effort to get their attention and immediately discover how very clever and witty I am, thereby causing them to introduce me to their agent, who will represent my book.

If I ever write a book.

Oh, and I try to get my picture taken with them, too. I still have a few pictures saved up with some of the writers I stalked and bagged. Er, had conversations with, I mean.

[Ok, Where Was I?]

The tuna, I believe, has passed. And now that it's afternoon, I've officially started drinking. It's all been lovely.

I have been so due up for a Jimmy and Me post, so it was so kind of you to ask about us, Scrappysue. We went to Egypt b/c I've always had secret fantasies of being an archeologist. Getting a tan, finding some old tomb, getting chased by mummies who come back to life. It all appeals to my multi-phobic thrill seeker side.

So when I wanted to play mummy and digger, Jimmy was all for it and immediately booked us a rad vacation to the tombs. Where I had my tomb raided.

As for who'd play me in the movie--unless, of course it was another Sarah. Once I met a friend's mother's boyfriend, and when he walked toward me with his hand extended, I put mine out. Naturally. He walked right past to my friend's husband behind me. So if it's not me never mind.

If it is, holy cow is that a hard one. She'd couldn't only be terribly cute b/c you'd have to want to punch her in the face sometimes b/c she keeps on making horrible mistakes with men. The same mistakes. And even though she knows it, she keeps doing it. So it would have to be someone you could like (b/c who wants to make everyone hate them? it is make believe after all) but also see yourself punching. Even if you're not a violent person. So I have to think.

I also have to think about the spokesperson. I'd probably seem very experienced for something related to mental illness. Again, I'll be back.
Sarah

[Grandma J]

Hey Foolery, I love your new place, and the wonderful diverse menu and guests. Thank you for hosting this event.

To answer Chesapeake Bay Woman's question..S!

First I have to say, leave it to you to ask multiple questions, requiring me to rub my two brain cells together at rapid lightning speed.

Let me see....hilarious? me? I think it's all in the words. But before blogging I don't think I was funny, but as I got older and experienced different setbacks and losses, I realized that you can survive anything anyone threw at you, unless they literally threw something!

I loved people to dare me to do something. I don't mean streak down main street, but something outside the box. Like would I be brazen enough to invite a high level executive to lunch and a movie on company time? If you dared me to, I would. So, I'm not funny, but I'm not afraid to treat everyone as if they were everyday Joes, or get down in the sandbox with the preschoolers on Grandparents Day and make a fool out of myself in the eyes of the adults....but not so much with the kids. Isn't that a hoot? Of course as a child, most of my actions called for diciplinary actions.

Here at the compound? Interesting people? Not really. Maybe the one gal who told me her kids have her locked up every so often...but only when she forgets to take her meds....because she is crazy...(in her own words).
I think I mentioned her once when she told me Theodore Kaczynski was her pen pal. So there you have it, I'm probably the one they all think is crazy.

Once again, thank you Foolery for this opportunity to expose even more of my short circuited brain cells. Maybe the next time we can make it breakfast. I have a mean omlete recipe that has lime jello in it.

[MamaMo]

Great party.
"I was just telling Melissa that one of the first things we learned back at... Stanford Law... was the modern proliferation of food poisoning claims against wealthy private homeowners. In fact, if one were so inclined, one could make quite a lucrative law practice with little else. How is everyone feeling tonight?" Ace Ventura

[Ok, Where Was I?]

How do I begin to tell you how incredibly awesome you are for putting this together. This is a totally bitchin dinner party with the best guests ever!

But I have to run to the bathroom first. I think it may be all the tuna-jello and Lucky Charms.

I will be back!

[All Adither]

Is that spam up there?

[Meg]

All the food is fantastic and I appreciate that you ponied up for the good Chinette instead of those flimsy Dixie paper plates, and the sturdy plastic cutlery instead of stealing the cheap stuff from, like, KFC. Although a spork would come in handy right about now.

Looking forward to the answers to all these compelling questions. I love this idea and haven't the foggiest idea how you have the time and energy to moderate it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back for more scrapple.

[The Mom Bomb]

Howdy, everybody! Sorry, the crab-dip was a bust. But I drove through Auburn on the way here, stopped by my parents', and they passed on my mom's famous Impossible Cheeseburger Pie. Try not to gag.

And now to answer your very insightful, Baba-Wawa-esque question: I started blogging because a writing instructor told me I should be writing every day. Unfortunately, I have very little discipline, so I thought having an audience -- however small -- might help me to get my tail in gear. And it has (at least metaphorically speaking)!

As for improving the QUALITY of my writing . . . need you ask? I refer you to my subtle and nuanced treatment of abdominal flab, or my heartfelt and wrenching account of cleaning up dog diarrhea. I believe the NY Times called my description of deer poo "a revelation."

[texasholly @ June Cleaver Nirvana]

Crap! My minivan's navigation system always seems to be lacking accurate information about important addresses. I had to press the "Yes" button after it explained that I was going "uncharted territory" did I want to proceed?

This is so fun. I am so glad to be here. Can I help you out in the kitchen while the other guests arrive?

I brought the salad, but left off the anchovies. I just couldn't do it. Just couldn't ruin a perfectly lovely salad with all that hideousness...

I started "Holly's animated life" when I went to Ikea without my camera. (I know! I know! What legitimate mommyblogger goes to Ikea WITHOUT her camera) I had a lot of super important things to show my blog public (population 7) about that trip. It was that fascinating. For instance, the wheels on the carts went in every direction but forward. For instance, you walk through Ikea and pick up HUGE items, yet the check out lane is about 6 inches wide. For instance, you can get a complete breakfast including meatballs (?) for $2.99! Really, all that had to be told and so I pulled out my magic markers...

Oh, and then I took pictures of the drawings because I didn't know how to use my scanner.

It has worked out well because my ONE experience with photoshop previously had me screaming and tugging at my hair, "I could DRAW this faster!". So this is my destiny. Stick figures and crayola markers...and...drum roll..I learned how to use my scanner.

The animated post takes me about 4 hours which is why I fall in exhaustion and don't post again for a week...which you may witness later today if I can get my most recent tale of woe finished.

I have a question for Sarah...who would play you in the movie of your life?

I am pondering the endorsement question. It is an important since it sets blog tone. I don't want to have the baggage linked to Tampax or Viagra so I will be back later...

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

Well hello! Your place is just lovely. Your directions were perfect. I only got lost once and that was because I turned the wrong way out of the convenience store...I needed some cat food.

Here's a bottle of wine and the scrapple. You'll want to serve that up right away as it gets soggy if left to sit.

Please pardon me, I have to dash off for a few minutes and will return later this evening with my answers. (That stinking paying job just gets in the way of everything. Now it is even impacting my social life. The nerve.)

Thanks so much for inviting me, and I can't wait to get back and eat some processed meat and Lucky Charms. Go ahead and start on the wine without me. I'll catch up.

-Love, cbw