Foolery

The Girlfriends Guide to Getting Up Early

So what were YOU doing this morning at 5:35?

 


I was dragging my carcass out of bed, through subzero California temperatures, off to the shower a full hour early. After making a cup of coffee and dumping some cereal into a bowl I schlepped off to the inhumane frigid air of my office and woke up my computer.

"Time for the webinar!" I told my Mac, just before 6:00. It made a snotty noise. Too early.

Deb at Lagniappe Marketing, the blog Bird on a Wire, and Heaven only knows what other organizations, has created a webinar called The Girlfriends Guide to the Business of Blogging, and it started yesterday. This audio seminar covers a lot of information and opinions about blogging, from business to personal. I have now listened to three sessions and been very impressed.

Hard to beat this morning's speaker, Marcy of The Glamorous Life Association, however. Marcy is one of my blogging buddies, but even with reading everything she posts and following her every move to the point of stalking, there was so much valuable material for bloggers in her presentation. Plus, who else can be clever and witty at 6:00 IN THE MORNING?! Certainly not moi.

I said I was gonna make a badge but after further thought I decided to frame it. I don't get up at that hour for anybody, Marcy, so this was BIG for me. HUGE.

 


In case you missed Marcy's webinar session, I Tweeted it live (hashtags: #GirlfriendsGuide and #GGTTBB), and my Twitter address is @foolery. Please try to listen to it if Deb releases the recording for purchase. Bloggers will NOT regret it. And contact Deb at GGTTBB to see what is still available; there are still a lot of exciting topics and speakers to come. And most of it happens after the sun rises here on the west coast -- bonus.

Thanks Deb and Marcy!

From the Draw Pile

The girls have been leaving mysterious drawings on my computer desktop over this year, which, because they are properly saved, I have ignored and saved "for later." Well, last night after getting home at 11:00, it was apparently "later," so I opened the drawings. This is one that Smedley drew the other day, entitled "Baby's Bath." It cracked me up.


"Baby's Bath" by Smedley, age 8 1/2, 8/18/09

I have posted a recent computer drawing from each of them at their blog, Baloney Girls, in case you'd like to see them.

Mathews Pipedream

Yes, I know, it's one more post about BlogFest. Deal with it. You might even like it! Play the video and read the new lyrics, below. Sing along raucously.




She was a level-headed blogger on the road to alcohol
And I was just a blogger, far from home and awfully tall
Well we loaded her Suburban
With lotsa beer and Diet Coke
Yeah, she gave me some cheese and a stack of CDs
And these are the words she spoke

Chorus:
Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper
Put away the laptop and the phone
Sit out in the garden, eat a lot of crab cakes
Blog all about it once you're home



(Created and posted by Meg of Soup Is Not a Finger Food)

Well, we drove around the county with our cameras going wild
Eating chips and drinking vino like it's goin' outta style
Well, we hung around the hot tub and we laughed 'til we turned blue
Yeah we sang our song all night long, tellin' us what to do

Chorus:
Blow up your T.V., throw away your paper
Build us a bonfire, photograph a storm
Do a lotta lounging, eat a lotta junk food
Try to get a signal for your phone



(Created and posted by Meg of Soup Is Not a Finger Food)

Well, I was tired and happy and about to leave that place
When just as we were leavin', well she looked me in the face
I said, "I'll be back here next year"
She said, "Do we have to wait 'til July?"
And to this very day we've been blogging away
And here is the reason why

Chorus:
We blew up the T.V., threw away the paper
Went to Virginia, down on the coast
Showed up a Come-Here, tryin' to be a From-Here
To the Blogfest bloggers, raise a toast

Original song "Spanish Pipedream" by John Prine; my apologies for tarnishing his brilliance.

Thanks to my Blogfest road trip buddy, Thelma, or was it Louise? Meg from Soup Is Not a Finger Food! And thanks for all the fun, my Blogfest buddies. Here's to all y'all!

Foolery's History of the World According to Bloggers

In the beginning, there was light.

Then came fire and pestilence and stuff, I forget the order . . . and then there was a garden. And God looked down and saw the garden and said, "Man, I'm gonna hafta MOW all that -- that's it! MAN."

And Man was created. Followed closely by Woman. And soon there was a Mower.

(Photo stolen from these guys)

And other things, like Boats and Spatulas. And then somebody invented Margaritas, which were naturally followed closely by Computers.

And God looked down and saw that it was Good.

But it could be better. Right? I mean, of course.

So God created The Internet. Sorry, Al Gore; you're a lot of things but you ain't God. And

BAM!!

before God could even say "LET THERE BE BLOGGERS" the People had organized and become Bloggers and then doing stuff just to blog about it and taking photos of it and what-all.

And God was a bit confused, but He saw that it was Good.

So He in His infinite wisdom put the bug in one Blogger's ear and said "LET THERE BE A KICK-ASS PARTY. IF YOU PLAN IT, THEY WILL COME."

And you know what? She did, and They did, and It was, and We were.

The End.

Until I clean the bathroom, after which I'll have LOTS to share with you about Chesapeake Bay Blogfest '09 in Mathews VA.

Hmmmm . . .

Going to Virginia in a matter of days. CHESAPEAKE BAY BLOGFEST 2009! I'm so excited. The to-do list is suddenly huge.

Pack my carry-on bag.

Lose fifteen . . . hundred pounds.

Get my hair cut.

Get a tan.

Put the cat out.

Become interesting.

Learn French.

Learn English.

Stop saying "vuh-CAY-shun" like Marge Simpson, or so I'm told by He Who Sleeps ALONE.

Practice my chit-chat, smalltalk and prattle.

Learn how to fake being a From Here, so I won't be pegged as the Come Here I am.

Work out the details with Miss Meg, who will be my travel buddy.

Get some sleep.

Stumbling In

Today we will learn about Stumbling. No, no -- put your hands down, please . . . not THAT kind of stumbling, which you learned well enough in college when the bars pushed you out onto the sidewalks. I'm looking at YOU, Anonymous.

No, the kind of Stumbling I will explain today is the GOOD kind. The kind that won't make your in-laws talk or bring your china cabinet down around your ears in the middle of a party. The GOOD kind of Stumbling happens on StumbleUpon.com.

A visual aid.

 

This is a blog. MomCrush at the Orange County Register, to be exact. We are going to Stumble this post, BECAUSE IT MADE US LAUGH A LOT, that's why. It did.

What is Stumble? It's like a thumbs up for things that you like, for whatever your reason.  How do you Stumble a post?  Well, you could Stumble a post if they have a button a the close of each post, as Suz does.

Or, you could install a StumbleUpon bar at the top of your screen, as I have done, which makes it oh-so-easy to Stumble something that strikes your fancy.  Like this:

Let me show you what getting Stumbled can do for your traffic on your web site. This is a shot of my stats this month. Now, don't get too excited. Each day is 100-200 hits, except for the spike. And guess what caused the spike. Give up? STUMBLE! Yup, I was Stumbled, by KitMama at Kitmama's Pensieve.

 

And you can see the difference that made. One day I got almost 1740 hits! Wow, talk about feeling like a rock star! Of course, it's up to you to make those new folks stick around, which I didn't do, *sigh.* But I'm sure you're better than I am at all that.

So go to Stumbleupon.com when the mood arises, and spread the love around. There are a lot of great blog posts out there -- let someone know about your favorite ones today. Someone may Stumble you tomorrow.

Thanks again, Kitmama!

Texasholly and Beavers and Donkey Noises Oh My!

I had no internet connection last night until I was too tired and apathetic to write anything, so I played mahjong instead. This is fascinating stuff, isn't it? And of the 10 unfinished posts in my drafts folder, none were good finished enough to waste spend any time on.

But someone was busy yesterday, someone named Texasholly. Usually she can be found at June Cleaver Nirvana, which you really ought to check out but not until I'm finished with this interminable sentence, okay? Thank you, I'm finished.



(Photo stolen from Texasholly herself. Illustration by Holly at June Cleaver Nirvana, which is where I stole it. From. Whatever.)

For those of you still here, go read one of the best of Texasholly's series Holly's Animated Life that I've ever seen. It's posted at a blog that's new to me, Smart Girl Nation. Unfortunately, I couldn't leave a comment there because I don't have a WordPress account (that'd be the ONLY account I don't have, since I am an avowed New Media Douchebag).





You will be making donkey noises like there's no tomorrow, or, if you're reading Holly's post on the sly, as I may have been but am not telling, you will be doing that painful silent laughter thing that results in wet eyes and sore (but not buffed) abs.

Have a pleasant and productive day. But first, go treat yourself to a donkey noise.

An Original Fairy Tale, I Swear

Once upon a time there was a happy little kingdom called Blog-ojovich  Bloggywood  Blog O'Sphere  St. Bloggus Onlinus. For the most part the peasants were all happy and productive (with bouts of rants and navel-gazing and the occasional absurd song stylings, but I did say mostly). And while there was no king, there were rather a few queens, but they mostly did their own thing and bothered no one. There was no blog police force; all problems were handled by the St. Bloggus peasants themselves. And it was good.

One day one of the peasants got a tip that another peasant was stealing her work and calling it her own! This was a serious problem in St. Bloggus, as you might imagine. For the peasants were not paid for their work (not bloody much, anyway), but did it for love, art and pride of ownership. Stealing another peasant's work was so uncool.



(Photo stolen from this guy)

So some of the more resourceful peasants dug around until they found out which peasant was copying work (from more than one peasant, I might add), and they found her : Miss Musing. Lots and lots of peasants got into the act and began searching the InterNuts for the name Miss Musing, and Lo, they found it on the page of the goofiest member of the kingdom, the court jester Foolery.



(Photo stolen from this guy)

Foolery had never been a threat before. In fact, few paid much attention to her lunatic ramblings. Yet suddenly, here she was, apparently harboring Internuts criminals, right in their midst! A missive from Good Miss Megan was sent forth to the idiot Foolery . . . . . .





And the whole thing was one big misunderstanding and wasn't the Musing we know and love AT ALL and yada yada yada . . . and I wouldn't have bothered any of you with any of this at all were it not for the fact that my own choice of words (adding Miss to Musing, for no good reason) could have potentially caused my friend Musing of Blogtations and In Three Words to be unfairly branded a plagiarist, which she is NOT. I referred to Musing recently -- TWICE -- as Miss Musing (the screen name of The Plagiarist), and that's where the trouble started. I have been making the rounds today, when I could (it's been a busy weeks already) trying to clear Musing's good name, and it seems no one is confused, for which I am glad. Plagiarism is a crap game and there is no place for it on the Internuts . . .



. . . or in St. Bloggus Onlinus, where good will and productivity again rule the day. And the peasants are again producing, and also making merry and tipping the wine, and margaritas, and boilermakers, and cough syrup, and --

AND WE ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER. THE END.

NOW GO TO SLEEP. RIGHT NOW.

AND DON'T GET UP AGAIN OR YOU'RE GROUNDED.

I MEAN IT.

Membership Has Its Privilege

You know that thing you said you'd never do? I mean, like, EVER?

Well . . . I did it.

MY thing I said I'd never do.  Yeah, I did it today.

I did it for money. Hopefully.

It wasn't that bad.

Don't get me wrong -- I did it once. Although, now I'm a member of THAT club.

Sigh. I'm a member of THAT club, which I never wanted to join.

Whatever.

Can't erase the past.

I did it because I need money.

And, maybe some good will come out of this, you know?

Maybe doing it will bring me some money.

Holy cows, I hope so.

Because I sold out.

Wait -- I don't mean to make it sound like I think the other people who . . . did it . . . that they are sell-outs, because I don't. Think that. I don't think that. That they sold out. I don't.

So.

Moving forward.

Now that I'm the new member of . . . that club.

BlogHer.

*shiver*

I said it. It's going to be fine.

I'm gonna go lie down.

BlogHer.

Yeah.



Just kidding. I'm turning over a new leaf, trying something new, and trying to do this Bloggyworld thing right. Here we go. Watch me fly.

Like I Can Limit Myself to Three Words

Do you know about In Three Words?

It's a new blog started by my blog buddy Musing,* who runs the blog Blogtations (which is a hotbed of great blog quotes, by the way, in case you've never been over there).  The point of In Three Words is to reduce an idea or experience down to it's barest essence -- three words. Not easy. Go read the About page for instructions and make it a stop, three times a week.

I swear no one paid me for this (as if they would).

*I have edited her name to her PROPER screen name, MUSING. I will explain the change in a post later today 4/21/09.

We All Know I Suck. But HOW MUCH Do I Suck?

Sometimes I find the weirdest stuff when I'm looking for pictures to pilfer from the Internuts.

Sometimes, like yesterday, I find this:



(Photo stolen from this site)

Now I know that my cat Campos is (probably) a Maine Coon, PLUS I now understand the weird little sound he makes.

And today, when I was looking for pictures of Tony Orlando & Dawn, I found this:

It was HIGH-larious, and especially compelling since Maureen Johnson, the woman behind the ten easy steps, is a REAL WRITER. Of books and everything. Not just pretend songs, like, oh, someone I know -- someone who spends her valuable time looking for pictures of Tony Orlando & Dawn. Someone who sucks.

But there -- see how I just did that? That is Maureen's Easy Step #7 --

7. BROOD A LOT ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU SUCK.

I'm learning already!

But that's not why I told you all of that (although truly, GO READ Maureen Johnson's post. From two years ago. It's that good). I told you all of that so I could tell you THIS:

Maureen Johnson is my new secret blog crush, maybe. I think, anyway. Heck, it's been only about nine hours -- whaddaya want from me, blood?! Maureen has started a new Ning site, which is a start-your-own social networking site, kind of like Facebook, only hipper. And more hip. More hippish.  GAHHH, the pressure!

Good little New Media Douchebag that I am, I joined in a flash. Then sat there. Now what? I asked the empty room.

NOW . . . I will be blogging every day in April. Maureen has started a challenge, cleverly called BEDA, to Blog Every Day in April. I sort of prefer BEDIA, myself, but no one asked me.

So this is it. My April 1st blog post.  Like it? Buy it!

Please consider Blogging Every Day in April. And if you do, come join Maureen Johnson and her merry band of bloglodytes, of which I am perhaps the newest and least substantial member. Worship me!



(Photo stolen from this guy)

Stopping By Perez Hilton on a Snarky Evening

Whose blog this is I think I know.
I thought it was iVillage though;
No one will see me stopping here
To watch the list of comments grow.

My little Mac must think it queer
To stop and read at this site, here
Elijah Wood and Rikki Lake?
I think I need to crack a beer.

I give my sleepy head a shake
I'm sure this stop is a mistake.
I need to dust, I need to sleep
But . . . Brit did WHAT?! . . . I'm such a flake.

The posts are racy, hardly deep.
And I have promises to keep,
And piles of crap I need to sweep,
And piles of crap I need to sweep.




With thanks to perezhilton.com. Original poem stolen from The Poetry Foundation

Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, �© 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.

Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (1983)

Wine, Cough Syrup and Refresh, Refresh

Please don't tell me my title doesn't make sense because it makes PERFECT sense for No Punctuation Wednesday when I've been living and breathing the whole Mommypie Blog Proposal 2.0 thing and I swear my heart stopped 16 times and I hadn't had a DROP of wine or anything until well after Mommypie said yes and by that time I needed cough syrup too but did that stop me from drinking wine?

It did NOT.

I said No Punctuation Wednesday. It's Tuesday night so get off my back.

Anyhoo, in case you didn't follow the Mommypie saga as closely as I did (yeah, refresh refresh was REAL and it was my life for an hour of Tuesday that I don't regret for a minute) let me fill you in:

The Boy asked Mommypie to marry him through another blogger, our very own blog friend Marcy from The Glamorous Life Association, and she organized this living breathing MASS of bloggers to write posts about marriage, proposals and the like and at last count there were at least 60 who did so and MAN were there some good posts and you really ought to head over to Marcy's to check it out, yup.

Whoa -- cough syrup rush justa second

Okay I'm back and aren't you lucky? So we weren't allowed on pain of death by rubber truncheon (Marcy is HARD CORE) to put up the Super Secret Proposal Page Link until 6:00 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time and so I followed directions -- hear THAT Dad? It's TRUE -- and put up the link at 6:05 and then sat and pressed refresh, refresh until my fingers bled and 911 was called and STILL Mommypie Did. Not. Come. and therefore Did. Not. Accept (or reject) The Boy's -- isn't he cute? Hubba hubba -- proposal. For over AN HOUR.

Until she did and here it is, just for you because I like you and you missed it (maybe) and the cough syrup is TOTALLY in control now and WHOA two Macs nope I was wrong, only one and here it is:

And you'll likely want to click on that because tiny writing and yecccchhhh and My eyes My eyes so click away

So maybe tomorrow my mysterious asthma-sort-of stuff will have gone and no more magic cough syrup and Advil and I can rest up my liver for the reeeeeeeeally important jobs and I will find the posts I was looking for without success which were about Chas's proposal to me December 11th 1997 and WHAT I SAID and spoiler alert: it was yes and oh yeah the one about our first unofficial date at Oktoberfest (kould we BE any kooler?) and maybe a dating story or two -- NOT THAT YOU ASKED AND ANYWAY WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK

So okay I'm fine and most likely ready for bed and stuff. Nighty night Internuts

Nighty night Mommypie and The Boy.

Slim Jim! Camp Cactus Edition

Magic was in the air this week.  Leprechauns were afoot, for sure, because the girls set a trap for them, which the Leprechauns promptly sprang.

See the tent in the lower corner? The ladder made of Q-Tips so the Leprechauns could climb into Mama's dip bowl to get the gold? I'll bet those little guys were pretty ticked off to discover that the "gold" was actually beer bottle caps, and not a drop of beer to be had. So they left dirt in the box, the rascals.

But nothing can compare to the fairy activity over at Camp Cactus. Jane, the resident artist at Camp Cactus Studio, has been busy designing clothing for the fairies of the Pacific Northwest. I borrowed one of the photos to show you (I don't think she'll mind too much) -- this one is my favorite:



So I'm declaring a Slim Jim day -- let's all troupe over to Miss Jane's studio and Slim Jim her!



All you have to do is show up, check out the fairy couture, and then go to her follow-up post and leave a comment. Somewhere in your comment work in the words SLIM JIM! I'll leave it up to you how to accomplish that.

And should any of the fairy folk around you neighborhood need new spring wardrobes, well, Jane is the designer to talk to.

Have fun and enjoy the art at Camp Cactus Studio!

Seen Gwyneth Paltrow's Website Yet?

Well, it's NOT Poop.com . . . but it should be.  (click to enlarge)


But it could be Goop.com.  I dunno.  Just a guess.

Grand Theft Blog

(Photo stolen from meatpilljunkie on Flickr)

Auds at Barking Mad! sent out an e-mail the other day, asking bloggers for their input for a serious post she's been researching and writing for several months. The topic isn't new, but the fact that Auds is doing actual research -- phone calls and interviews with government agencies and professionals with educated opinions -- raises her query far beyond other discussions I have seen. We of the blogging community have a collective bad habit of wondering aloud, hand-wringing and navel-gazing, but not actually delving into an issue with field research. I include myself in that assessment, as I have the attention span of a gnat.

The topic: Is blogging about children exploitative and/or unsafe, and where should lines be drawn? The question Auds posed to bloggers -- please go add your opinions to the growing list, as she is weighing the opinions of bloggers with her research -- is how do we walk the line between art and exploitation of our children? Quoting Auds:

I want to know what your limits are; the things you will and will not write or post about. What are your own concerns about images posted of our children and whether you think it constitutes a risk, and whether you think, down the line, our children may read our words about raising them - those shared experiences we can all relate to and commiserate with, and will it cause them any undue stress, pain, or as some allege, years spent in a therapists office trying to come to terms with mommy writing about potty-training difficulties?

Addressing the safety issues first, I decided to approach blogging safely in an unsafe world the same way I approach potential car thieves: I take precautions but don't obsess.  When I park in a full parking lot, some of the cars around me are flashy and expensive, some are clunkers. Some of both groups are locked, some are left with the windows rolled down. Quite a few have alarms, but probably more don't. I pull up, roll up my windows, throw anything of value into the trunk, lock the car, and walk away. I know full well that any crafty thief can get into my car if he wants to, but the car next to me isn't locked and there's a shopping bag on the seat -- I'm banking on THAT one getting hit before mine does.

Should I have an alarm? You might say yes, until you see my car. Then you'd just laugh.

I approached my blog identity the same way. I wanted to write about where I live, so I didn't obscure the local town names. I already had a presence on the web under my real name (including, but not limited to, the listing of a fortuitous and real bra size, once upon a pregnancy), so that had to stay. So the way I "lock the door" is by using nicknames only for my children, and not posting identifiable photos. It helps that I use my maiden name, which is my legal name, but it's not my children's or husband's name. This is my approach to any and all social media -- comments on other peoples' blogs, Twitter, even Facebook. Yes, Smedley and Sparky are even referred to as Smedley and Sparky on Facebook. My high school friends probably think I'm trying to be like the CelebriFreaks who name their children after fruit and bad dreams.

Could someone get around my half-assed security system? Sure. Do I lose sleep over it? No. There's a blog "Lexus" parked next to me that would be far more appealing to someone up to no good. If they want ME that bad, they'll get me.  Otherwise, they'll go looking somewhere easier.

I am very protective of other people that I write about, as well -- I rarely use anyone's real name if they could be identified.

As far as issues of personal privacy for our family members, I would rather pass up a good story than risk hurting my child. But you and I may differ in our opinions of what might hurt my child, and there's the rub. If I could tell the story to a crowd of people and have my daughter walk up mid-story, and neither of us would feel the shame of betrayal, I'm on solid ground. If it would take more than one sentence to explain why I am telling all of these people about what she said at the grocery store, then I'd better leave it alone. HOWEVER, if the story is good enough and I want to record it for my old folks home years, I write the story and e-mail it to myself, I really do. TA-DA! Problem solved.

Auds, I hope this helps you find some truth, but more likely, it will probably lead to more questions. That's okay, too; we are usually at our best when we are questioning our own behavior. And thanks, Auds, for the work you have put into this topic; I'm eager to read what you have learned.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

(Cartoon stolen from this site)

It was a dark and stormy night.

That's it; dark and stormy, no drama. Other than the awards show on television, that is. Fake tension, fake tatas, fake bake.  Hell, I'll bet even the gold statuette is fake!

GAHH how she wanted one.

KABOOM, the thunder.  Thunder -- in February? Not likely . . . no, it was just the hammering of her fist against the warm television. Oh.  In retrospect, not a good idea, since it was made of glass and plastic and . . . out of warranty and all.

Crap.  Plus, she missed the Best Picture of a New Artist award.  And then the electricity blinked out.

It was a dark and stormy night.

*     *     *     *     *

I do NOT write fiction, and it's obvious why.  But, since I don't watch awards shows, this is the closest I get.  But if you have a hankering to write fiction? PLEASE go visit San Diego Momma on Tuesdays for her wonderful PrompTuesday series.  She gives you a topic, or -- in this case -- an opening sentence.  You write it in ten minutes or so, keeping it short and sweet.  Or, in my case, short.

Also?  She's a heckuva lot of fun.  And anyone who let's me write the tripe I write?

AWESOME.

Why I Blog

 

(Photo stolen from www.global-b2b-network.com/b2b/13/14/721/page...)

I just figured out why I blog.

It's not about the writing (though that is a very close runner-up).  I can write on envelopes if I have to, or in a journal which no one would ever read, as personal as I wish.  No, it's not about the writing.

It's not to make new friends, although WOW have I had a good time doing that!  So many people out there that I never would have otherwise met, many who could conceivably be life-long friends.

But I didn't start blogging to make friends.

Some people actually make money blogging.  Do I?  Not one red cent.  Not even a spif or swag bag.  I gave it a half-hearted attempt, but that's not why I started blogging, either.

And it's certainly not to have a cleaner house.

I just realized that I started blogging in order to actually finish a sentence.

I'll let that sink in.

To be able to complete a thought, flesh out an idea, run on at the mouth, without children breaking in, without commercial interruption, without having to see glassed-over eyes and hear "uh-huh" or "you don't say?"  The phone NEVER rings during a blog rant.  My blog never tries to talk me out of my ridiculous, unfounded opinion, never says "you're wrong."  My blog may not think all my jokes are funny, all my photos are interesting, or all my ideas are brilliant, but it sits there silently and lets me make a complete ass of myself if I feel like it.  And oh, how often I feel like it.

I don't blog to be understood, or even to be heard; I blog to flush the cache in my head.

Completely.

And I'll just bet that some of you out there feel the same way.

Well, I have flushed.  You may commence with the uh-huhs and you don't say?s now.

Slim Jim! Chesapeake Bay Version

I am hard at work on a new blog post that is taking a lot of time because of research, and the fact that I threw my back out dead-lifting two sleeping children from the floor in the middle of the night.  And anyway, it seems rather gauche to follow a post about my cat's abscess with an opera review, although it also seems exactly like something I'd do . . . but I'm trying to turn over a new leaf here, so bear with me.  Opera post later today, probably.  Maybe.  Instead . . .

It's been a while since we all Slim Jim'd a blog.  I'll bet most of you have no idea what I meant by that, so here's a link to the very first Slim Jim post I did for an explanation.  And for the directions:

Let's go Slim Jim a blog.

I'll pick a blog, and we'll all show up there and leave a comment.  If you can work the words "Slim Jim" into your comment, extra points. The poor blogger will never know what hit him/her.  If all goes well, some of us will even stick around a while, and we may be invited to dinner.

Whaddaya say?

Today, folks, we're Slim Jimming Chesapeake Bay Woman's blog, Life in Mathews.

Her post today is about her Aunt Maggie, and it was largely written by her equally talented mother . . .

BUT DON'T LET HER FOOL YOU.

She coyly didn't mention it, but today is Chesapeake Bay Woman's birthday.  She is 12, I think.*  Please go Slim Jim her blog, and don't forget to tell her happy birthday.  Then nose around a bit, because that 12-year-old* can WRITE.  You'll thank me later.

Happy Slim Jimming!  And happy birthday, CBW.

*This is a lie. She's actually 23.

Another Blog? Another Blog!

(Original photo stolen from Justinc at http://commons.wikimedia.org)

I've been thinking about this for about a week now, and I've only let the cat out of the bag THREE TIMES.  That is HUGE for me.  You don't even know.

The image above is the working logo for my latest diversion:  a new website called -- da da-da daaaaaa! -- Bartender Face.  How did you guess?  So please, ask me a few questions.

What kind of name is Bartender Face ?!

It's named after a condition I have -- very serious.  Please feel free to read about it here.

What will you write about at Bartender Face?

Uh-uh -- I won't be doing any writing.

YOU will.

And YOU, and YOU, and YOU.

I hope.  You will submit your articles to me, and, with few exceptions (WHICH I'm still working out) I will post them.  Simple.

Why is this any different from another site for guest posts?

Ah, I'm glad you asked.  It's different because you will post anonymously, no exceptions.

Anonymously?  Why?

And THAT is the reason for the name Bartender Face.  This will be a site for posting all the stuff you could never put on your own sites.  The embarrassing stuff.  The juicy stuff.  The stuff that could get you fired, the stuff that could break up friendships.  Don't think I have any lurid fascination with this stuff, because actually?  I don't.  Secretly I hope that no one ever posts anything there.  Because that would mean that no one has any pent-up writerly rage that can't be expressed through the usual channels.  But I know that that's not true.

I read Marcy's take on the whole issue just last week at her fabulous blog Marcy Writes The Glamorous Life and it got the rusty wheels in my brain turning.  Thanks, Miss Marcy; maybe this will be a safe place to post all of our angst, complaints and if onlys.  People have always told me very, very personal things, so maybe I can put my special "gift" to good use.

Watch for more news of Bartender Face as it unfolds.  And please offer any suggestions you think will help.  The bar is always open.