Hair Cuts

I got my hair done yesterday.
Velvet was supposed to get his cut while my color was cooking, but we got in a shouting match just as it was time to get ready to walk out the door. It would have been impossible to be in the same room together and remain civil, so I left him at home. I have to be civil when I'm completely annoyed all week long. I'm not doing it on the weekend too.

The dispute itself simply goes with the territory of having a kid who is on the verge of being a grown up but has a ways to go yet. Velvet is doing quite well, all things considered. But it doesn't inspire confidence when I open the refrigerator and find an empty pitcher of lemonade waiting to be magically refilled by the Lemonade Fairy who evidently comes in the night - along with the chocolate chip cookie fairy. Most likely, 80% of all mothers have had a similar experience, my own mother included. Unfortunately, conversations between me and Velvet get heated quickly because we are both prone to holler, "Oh Yeah? Well, Fuck you!"

A new DVD player was at the root of the problem. Ours has given up the ghost. Actually, the ghost was fully gone a couple of months ago. We need a new one for sure, but I wasn't ready to spend the money for a number of logical reasons. For a moment, I felt guilty for depriving my child of a new DVD player because I was spending the money on my hair. That guilt was easy to shake because I turn 50 next week and don't want to be faded and shabby. Fabulous hair trumped a new DVD player - just like groceries and electric bills have been trumping a new DVD player for a couple of months.

Velvet is now wondering when he'll get a hair cut. I wonder if he'll figure out that he needs to email Max the Genius his own damn self and make an appointment. We can only hope. Maybe he'll find the lemonade mix in the cupboard while he's at it.

If Max the Genius worked in a salon instead of his rent controlled third floor walk up in Hells Kitchen, being cordial to Velvet would have been a simple matter because we wouldn't have been near each other. At Max's Velvet would have been watching cartoons a few feet away in the living area while my head was being covered in aluminum foil in the kitchen. Max has a great set up, and he charges substantially less than a salon - at least for dedicated long time clients like me. Max the Genius has started a Beauty Coaching business that has it's own web site: MaxRyanBeauty.com


I like to relax and talk to Max - who is a totally positive individual - when he's doing my hair. As I said already, Velvet had to be ditched because I spend enough time during the week being cordial when I'm thoroughly annoyed. I'd say more about that except the blog spying continues. Being Under Surveillance by Sarah Palin's blog response squad last October was as absurd as the nonworking links they posted in my comment section. I'd link to the post except I deleted it because I mentioned something work related, and upon discovering the blog spy was connected to work, I deleted everything that was remotely work related - even the good stuff. The Palin squad was kind of funny, and my mother was the only one worried about the FBI monitoring my political opinions. The blog spies, on the other hand, are a drag because I censor myself out of fear. Being afraid sucks.

I remind myself that This Too Shall Pass. When you're fifty, so much has come and gone that you can have faith in change for the better. That's why I'm almost serious about turning to friends and neighbors in blogland to form a Search Committee for The Summer Boyfriend. I'm not lacking for admirers at the moment, but while everyone has his good points, Romance isn't happening. Since I haven't done so well looking on my own - perhaps because I'm still seeing red flags everywhere - it occurs to me that someone else should manage this project. Perhaps someone in blogland knows a suitably good natured fellow with a sense of humor. Those Match.com guys didn't have much of a sense of humor, and to be truthful, I wasn't open to Romance this winter even though my hair did look great back then too.

From a Former Nun

I love this old joke - one of the first I ever received via email. The woman who sent it used to be a nun and is now a prominent member of the Sirens, a Lesbian Motorcycle Club that leads the New York City Gay Pride Parade.




The Seven Dwarfs go to the Vatican, and because they are The Seven Dwarfs they get ushered into see the Pope. Dopey leads the pack.

"Dopey my son," says the Pope, "what can I do for you?"

Dopey asks, "Excuse me, Your Excellency, but are there any dwarf nuns in Rome?"

The Pope wrinkles his brow at the odd question, thinks for a moment and answers, "No Dopey, there are no dwarf nuns in Rome."

In the background a few of the dwarfs begin giggling. Dopey turns around and gives them a glare, silencing them. Dopey turns back to face the Pope. "Your Worship, are there any dwarf nuns in all of Europe?"

The Pope, puzzled again, thinks for a moment and then answers, "No Dopey, there are no dwarf nuns in all of Europe." This time all the other dwarfs burst into laughter. Once again, Dopey turns around and silences them all with an angry glare.

Dopey turns back to the Pope and says, "Mr. Pope, are ANY dwarf nuns in the whole world?"

The Pope answers, "I'm sorry, my son, there are no dwarf nuns anywhere in the world."

The other dwarfs collapse into a heap, rolling, and laughing, pounding on the floor, tears rolling down their cheeks as they begin chanting:

"Dopey screwed a penguin!"
"Dopey screwed a penguin!"

This morning, just like most others lately, I'm working hard to keep my spirits up. Naturally, I have created a sound track with my iTunes for days when I'm in a bad mood and need encouragement.



I'm betting lots of folks have had to fight to be free. Now that my fiftieth birthday is directly ahead, I'm hoping that I'm about to burst through some threshold. If you believe people who are in their sixties, being over fifty is kind of liberating.

Pssst! Pass it on: Torture Does Not Save Lives

Found this clip through Leftist Grandpa who got it from Themom at Attentive Aphorist. JD's got it up at This Tumbleweed Life, too.


produced by Brave New Foundation: www.bravenewfoundation.org

A Little Tree and the Coming Day

The sun is coming up on the East Side. High, wispy clouds - cirrus, I learned in 1982 in the Meteorology class I took at the University of Texas at Austin to satisfy the Math and Science requirements for Liberal Arts majors. Those cirrus clouds are tinged pink, and there's a cool breeze. Maybe it's not the sun that tinges clouds. Maybe they're tickled pink by the breeze - but that doesn't explain other colors. Either way, it's nice out on the terrace in the dawn quiet of New York City despite the construction site a stone's throw away. I know it's only a stone's throw since I've thrown candle stubs and sundry items into the construction site when the mood struck.

This morning, I've been cutting away the dead branches on the ailing Japanese Maple. This little tree was a gift for Buzz Kill's and my fifteenth wedding anniversary. Last gift we received during that marriage. It's done well for the five years it's been out on the terrace in a deep, square planter, but this year it's looking poorly. Branches need to be trimmed back, I hope, since that's what I just did. Buzz Kill and I haven't been getting along well lately at all because I'm finally processing the sadness and rage which led up to and followed our divorce. I worked hard to avoid those feelings until I could feel them without being crushed by their weight. All the while, that tree has been a metaphor for our relationship.

I was surprised to see it thriving for a couple of years while he still lived here - both of us isolated in our respective despair. I had already filed for divorce since it was the only way to get him to fill out the financial papers for the separation agreement. Hell, if the man would have simply shared our financial information with me, we'd still be married - which goes to show that people can love each other but still find themselves in a completely fucked up situation. So even though I had filed for divorce and Buzz Kill was sleeping on the couch, the tree was doing fine. Last year it looked great, but this year it's half dead. Now that I've taken a saw to the deadwood, we will see if, with a little nurturing, it'll come back better than before. Not that Buzz Kill and I will ever reconcile because frankly, I'm not so sure I ever want to be up to my ass in a relationship again, and if I did, it wouldn't be with Buzz Kill even though he has his good points. But the condition of the tree does indicate that love endures just like in Southern Cross (Crosby, Stills, Nash):

I have been around the world
looking for that woman/girl
who knows love will endure
and you know it will
you know it will



I've always believed that Love endures. Buzz Kill and I loved each other. That's why getting divorced remains such a struggle. It's probably why he was over here installing a new ceiling fan in my room yesterday while I was grocery shopping. That and he likes to make his presence felt around the apartment in ways he thinks are helping even though I wish he'd keep his mitts off my stuff. So as I was tending the tree, I wondered where Buzz Kill and I will find ourselves in another twenty years.

Some people come at life from a place of Love. Buzz Kill and I are both like that. Our love got lost under fear and anger, but it has never become loathing because, in the end, we see each other from a place of Love. We're both so enraged that a lot more time will need to pass before we can relax around each other, but the love is still there - like the tree.

The love between me and The Man from San Antone endures. He seems to have fallen off the face of the earth lately. I called him when I was in Texas, but he was in Atlanta for some golf tournament. He always liked sports. I'm afraid that he had to get a by-pass and go into detox because he's not usually so silent - even if he were avoiding me because he suspects I'm angling to take whatever money his first wife left behind. An enduring love does not mean it's a good idea for two people to become a couple. The Man from San Antone and I are more like siblings than anything else. Great fun, unmatched emotional support and loyalty, but not marriage material.

The love between me and Bradley (stonerdate 01.13.09 The Significance of Five Fiancees and a True Love) not only endures but has expanded to include his wife. We've become so emotionally intimate that we're practically a triad these days which, I suspect, means I'm on the short list for taking care of their daughter in case of joint demise - more trusted than the aunts and uncles, for sure. I'm very far away up here in the big city, but the love stretches enough so that I can feel it wrapping around me. That's part of what makes being up here so hard. I'm lucky to have that kind of love from my family, too. Most likely, my family is the source of original love - the one that makes it possible for me to come at life from a place of love. The joi de vivre, the strength and resiliency, the buoyant spirit - that comes from my family of origin.

In the end, it was that spirit that broke through years of feeling unlovable as a result of the early childhood trauma. It's one of life's little ironies that my encounter with The Narcissist led to finding my voice which led to self-acceptance which led to Grace. The love I felt for him remains even though I'm convinced he's a toxic character. In my effort to understand that emotionally impervious individual, I caught a glimpse of the human, vulnerable part of him. Now I know I could see that part of him because I'm not afraid to love, and that's a good thing even when it leads to a world of hurt. I also know that I can take a bloody nose and come out stronger.

I don't necessarily believe in God, but I like the idea of Grace and think Paul Tillich explains it best in his sermon, "You are Accepted." Enduring Love, Grace and Acceptance are all connected, and that little tree on my porch still stands as a metaphor this lovely Sunday morning reminding me of this line in Southern Cross:

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time,
you'll understand now why you came this way
Because the truth you might be running from is so small
but it's as big as the promise
the promise of the coming day

A Bit of Humor in Real Life

A dear friend sent me this entertaining commercial for a furniture store in North Carolina.

The Red House commercial began life as a simple, local production. Through the magic of the internet, it has become a global sensation (related article). It's a blessing to have friends who appreciate and share your sense of humor especially when they cheer you up from foreign soil. She's been in Ireland with Emerging Artists Theatre because a couple of EAT plays were in The Dublin International Gay Theatre Festival. I'm proud and excited for them and a little bit green with envy. It's only appropriate to be green. It's Ireland, after all.

"What fresh Hell is this?"

That's how Dorothy Parker reportedly answered her phone and exactly how I feel these days when I look at my statcounter. Someone has been scrutinizing the archives for references to my job.

It's not unusual for someone to read a lot of the archival material when s/he first finds a blog, especially if it's the middle of the night. Someone like that is showing up a lot in the statistics now, but that reader initially came to the blog via my profile which indicates that the individual noticed a comment I made on another blog, clicked on my link and landed over here. While I occasionally wonder what someone would find interesting enough to visit more than once a day, I'm not suspicious.

Repeatedly searching through the archives is another story. When somebody spends a couple of hours reading ancient posts for a few days in a row, then searches for the names of characters from work I mentioned in a post just after Obama got elected, then somebody else shows up the same evening the names were discovered -- well, let's just say it looks a lot like someone in Florida had an assignment to see if I was talking about work, found the names and gave them to someone in New York who then proceeded to also search the archives.

Fortunately, anything I said here was already common knowledge in real life over at work. Once I deleted the posts, the New Yorker quit searching, but apparently the person in Florida continues to monitor my activities. It's disconcerting.

Anytime someone has searched the archives before, it's been for their own personal reasons. Over Christmas vacation, someone was obsessing over the archives from a Blackberry. Drove me nuts because I couldn't imagine that anyone would read that much unless s/he knew me personally. It could have been someone who got a Blackberry for Hanukkah or Christmas and was stuck at Grandma's with nothing to do but read blogs all night on a Blackberry - which had to be an uncomfortable way to read anything at all. Did they have no books or TV? For a while I thought it was The Narcissist looking to read something about himself. Part of the reason I was so intent on seeing him in January was because I had to find out if he had gotten a Blackberry. He had not, and I was left with a mystery. Eventually, the Blackberry searched "ShatAKing" and the mystery was solved. Any way you look at it, I was tacky about ShatAKing, and even though I maintain that he deserved everything he got, you can't blame the man for checking out the source of exposure.

This new mystery is more difficult because the searchers are well aware of my true identity and, while I suppose it's possible that they are friendly and are more interested in what I had to say about certain individuals than using anything against me, there's no way to know who is Friend or Foe in this instance. I can't really do anything about it either - besides deleting the posts - but that's done and I'm still being frequently monitored. Maybe that's a good thing because I won't get worked up and spill my guts about my job on the internet which might have happened.

Nevertheless, it's still a drag to check my stats and see six page loads from the Verizon user in Florida since I went to bed last night. And I look at my colleagues differently because I'm wondering where the searchers got wind of Menopausal Stoners and how all this is going to bite me in the ass -- even though everything is done under a pseudonym and I never used any real names or referenced the school in any way shape or form. I am careful that way not so much because I worry about anyone's reputation or legal retribution but because I don't want a real live stalker hanging walking around the West Side looking for Menopausal Stoner World Headquarters.

Only a couple of folks knew I even had a blog - but we all know loose lips sink ships.
I wish I were The Unsinkable Molly Brown.

Cupcake and The Prom

The situation between Velvet and Cupcake, the almost girlfriend, has been very disappointing for a mother who was looking forward to prom night photos of her manchild in a tux. Actually, Velvet was so eagerly anticipating how smooth he'd look in a tux that I wished it for him - but it is not to be.

Cupcake is, sadly, a flake. She doesn't return his phone calls in a timely manner, says she wants to "chill" and then disappears, etc. We have all had friends like that. Friends who say, "Absolutely. Let's get together this afternoon!" When you're waiting around for that person, with other things you could be doing, s/he doesn't call as promised and when you call, s/he doesn't pick up the phone. The next day there is some lame excuse. Cupcake is like that. Plus she hangs out with The Douchebag patrol - the disrespectful ones who left a drunk girl in the bathroom.

I have complete confidence that Velvet would have overlooked all that if it meant there was sex on his horizon but Cupcake is in trouble with her exclusive girls' school. From what I've heard, her behavior was such that her school said she could not return to class until she started therapy. Panic attacks were involved. She could keep up with her assignments and graduate as scheduled, but she couldn't come to school or school events.

Which brings us to The Prom.

Cupcake had started therapy and was welcome to return to school when, for unknown reasons, her mother told her not to go to therapy. Her family is not from New York - not even from this country - which could have something to do with Cupcake's mother's attitude. There are very few confirmed New Yorkers who won't go to therapy as long as there aren't any financial impediments. Anyway - no therapy; no prom. No prom; no tux.

They could have gone to Velvet's prom, but Velvet is of the opinion that it's a lame, expensive event. It's at Tavern on the Green (totally uncool), no DJ just some asshole from school (amazingly uncool), and $150 per person before you start getting dressed. Think of everything else he could be spending $300 on -- I know he is. Plus Velvet's school is very small. Less than 50 in the graduating class and most of them have known each other since the lower elementary grades which mean they are tired of looking at each other.

Velvet likes some of his classmates well enough to spend a week in Yosemite with them at a substantially greater cost than $300, but he didn't contribute a dime to that excursion, and in Yosemite he was the Grand Pooba on account of his superior wilderness skills.

As Velvet's first romantic drama begins to fade, he's flopping himself down on my bed when he comes in at 1:30am or when he gets up for school at 6:00 in the morning wanting to talk. Naturally, I recognize that this is highly unusual behavior for a teen aged boy and am gratified that he wants to ponder the meaning of life with his mother. I just wish he'd do it at a more convenient time - but it just goes to show you how unrealistically optimistic new parents are when they think they'll finally get some sleep as soon as the infant starts sleeping through the night.

My favorite part is that he did the flop for three days running, began to tell me about stuff and got to the heart of the matter and said, "Well, it's none of your business." And indeed it wasn't, but tell that to a Gemini and watch what happens. Fortunately, I was respectful during the process and he eventually told me what was on his mind. And of course it had to do with sex.

Because I will maintain my usual respect for Velvet's privacy, I will simply say that Those Private School Girls can be problematic. Velvet can be problematic, too, but in the end, he's a young man wise beyond his years and he's going to be perfectly fine when he goes away to college.

Today is senior skip day and I just called the school to say he's at home for the day. It wasn't quite as charming as the scene in Running With Scissors when Deidre calls the school to say Augusten won't be in because he's over conditioned his hair, but it was close. One of our most cozy family moments was when Velvet and I watched Running With Scissors together to make sure I wasn't as crazy as Annette Benning, although I felt somewhat "busted" because I have also given household items a moon bath to clear out the cooties. Just a few things on the terrace under a full moon, but Velvet gave me a look that clearly said, "See, I told you that you're crazy."

Snafu in the Space Time Continuum

I have an issue with the new Star Trek.
It's a fine movie with action so intense it stunned my eyeballs - especially since Velvet and I saw it in IMAX at 10:00 in the morning. The guy who plays Velvet's favorite character in Heroes makes an outstanding Young Spock, and seeing Leonard Nemoy as the Spock of Future Past is particularly satisfying.

Velvet can't wait to see the movie again and thinks my objections are silly - but I don't understand how they could have destroyed the planet Vulcan and killed Spock's mother and still have a movie - Number 4, where Spock saves the whales - which starts out on Vulcan and includes Spock's mother. Frankly, I don't understand how this new movie can exist without wiping all of the original series out of existence.

Velvet says that's because even though the movie itself takes place prior to the series - actually it takes place between Star Trek Enterprise with Captain Archer and T-Pal and the original series that I watched with my dad when I was a little kid - the events that started the plot's trajectory occurred after the original series but before Next Generation. I don't know when Captain Janeway was lost in the Delta Quadrant and didn't pay much attention to Deep Space Nine since it reminded me of The Love Boat. Evidently the planet Vulcan is ultimately unnecessary to the show because Spock himself exists outside of the space time continuum. Spock shows up all over the damn place in nearly all of the versions of Star Trek which remains possible because he and his dad are among the last surviving Vulcans at the end of this new movie.

Velvet says that since the renegade Romulan came from the future, all of the original series and the subsequent movies had already happened. Spock's mom could visit any number of Enterprises and have meaningful conversations with Spock on Vulcan before he goes off to save the whales. Spock will still return to Vulcan and be forced to fight Captain Kirk if he wanted to get laid in "Amok Time."

Since Future Spock lived his full life before the trouble that led to the renegade Romulan turning Vulcan into a black hole - it all happened just like we saw it happen over and over and over again whether we smoked weed or not. That Reality is Secure. Those events did occur; they just won't occur now.

How is that possible?

There's still a Starship Enterprise with Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Chekov, Sulu and Scotty - even Captain Christopher Pike in a wheel chair. It's just that now they're on a different trajectory because reality has changed. New Reality might even be so good that Captain Pike won't have to return to Buttheads on Talos IV since this set up is a big improvement over having his head sticking out of a rolling black box, only able to answer yes/no questions by flashing his little light.

Note the crease at the bottom of the big, round, bald heads. That's why we called 'em Buttheads

Lucky for everyone that Nero the Renegade Romulan maroons Future Spock on the very same ice planet where young Spock jettisons young James T. Kirk. That Scotty happens to be stationed on the same ice planet as a result of loosing Captain Archer's beagle in a transporter accident is simply a happy coincidence. I don't get it because Nero simply stashes Future Spock somewhere to live out his days isolated with the pain of knowing his home world had been destroyed. Nero doesn't give a flying fuck about any of the crew of the Enterprise from the original series. He could have ditched Spock on any deserted planet. Maybe this ice world was the only one handy for both Nero and Young Spock.

Without Spock of Future Past, Kirk would have been some monster bug's lunch. Consequently he'd never arrive at Scotty's outpost. Even worse, without Future Spock there to give Scotty an equation that Scotty invents in the future to transport folks onto ships traveling at warp speed, it would have been technologically impossilbe for young Scotty and Kirk to join their comrades on the Enterprise thereby uniting the original crew to save the Earth and Captain Pike then boldly go where no man has gone before.

It's not exactly alternate or parallel reality. I don't understand the difference between Parallel Reality and Alternate Reality but one of them explains the existence of the Bizarro Enterprise which is how the landing party met Evil Spock when the transporter malfunctioned during an ion storm - but that might have been a Parallel Universe, not to be confused with parallel development which explains how the guys have to fight in Roman gladiator games in "Bread and Circuses," and perhaps those gangsters in "A Piece of the Action," although that whole episode had to do with cultural contamination and The Prime Directive.

Maybe Universes and Planets are different from Realities - none of which has anything to do with being trapped in a repeating loop of time. That's also happened on Star Trek before and they had to send themselves clues to keep from blowing themselves into back into another cycle of the time loop. Maybe in real life the writers got that idea from the ever popular production number in Rocky Horror when everybody sings, "Let's do the Time Warp again!"


This new trajectory may have been necessary so that, in real life, countless movies can be made with buffed up, hot new versions of our favorite characters who are free to roam the galaxy where events are similar to the old reality but not quite. If that is the case, then I think Sulu should definitely be openly gay, life George Takei in real life. The fabulous Mr. Sulu would kick major ass with his gleaming sword - similar to Robert DeNiro in Stardust which is, naturally, a fairy tale and doesn't involve outer space at all. At the moment, the only flaming queen I remember in outer space is Dr. Smith who is a wonderful character but not exactly heroic. As much as I enjoyed the holographic doctor, who seems pretty gay, an Emergecny Medical Hologram doesn't count as a real, openly gay character.



The hot, buff factor would explain why there is a role in this new movie for Future Spock, who looks great as a geezer, but not Captain Kirk who anyone can see from the Priceline commercials is a pudgy goofball. However, the absence of Future James T. Kirk may have more to do with his being trapped in The Nexus during this movie killing time until he has to assist Jean-Luc Picard in Generations. That's a much more plausible explanation than William Shatner being such a roaring ass that nobody wanted to work with him and, I suppose, means there is order to the space time continuum after all.

In Which Velvet Looses his Glasses

When Buzz Kill goes to India, he always insists on buying Velvet new glasses. He thinks this idea is good because the glasses are much less expensive in India. The first time he got Velvet glasses, they looked okay, but something was wrong with them. I can't remember what. Lenscrafters doesn't repair glasses you buy on the cheap in India for free like they do the glasses you buy for your kid at their own stores. Velvet liked the frames, though, and enjoyed wearing them until they sank into the lake up at the Hippy Dippy Quaker Camp.

This very lake, as a matter of fact

I got Velvet new glasses at Lenscrafters with my AAA discount. He's wearing them now because the fancy designer glasses Buzz Kill brought back from India a couple of months ago have been destroyed. Ooops.

I'm happy they're gone because they were some butt ugly glasses. They might have looked good on Vin Deisel if they were sunglasses, but on Velvet they looked like souped up wood shop goggles. The worst part was that they didn't fit right. The top part of the frame, which might be called the bridge, hit Velvet's eye brow line and since it was made of thick, black plastic, they gave him the unfortunate look of a unibrow.

Daniel Radcliffe with a unibrow. Radcliffe is a reasonable facsimile of Velvet because years ago, people often commented that Velvet looked like Harry Potter.

In short, these glasses were awful in every way and proved my original point to Buzz Kill that glasses are an item that a person really needs to try on before purchasing which is another reason why getting glasses for Velvet in India is a stupid idea.

But, as I learned over years of marriage to the man, you can't tell Buzz Kill anything. There's the right way, the wrong way and the Buzz Kill way.

The uni-brow frames met an untimely fate Monday morning. While minding his own business, waiting on the platform for the subway, poor Velvet sneezed. Since it's spring allergy season here in New York City, Velvet sneezed a sneeze so mighty that the ill fitting glasses flew from his head and on to the subway tracks. He briefly considered asking a transit worker to arrange retrieval of the spectacles, but dismissed that idea instantly because the train was approaching the station. He and everyone who had seen his glasses go flying watched the glasses disappear forever under the 6 Train.

Frankly, I think it was a good place for those dang glasses. I'm not surprised that Buzz Kill chastised Velvet for not asking someone in the booth to see about getting them back. It's possible the train itself entirely missed the glasses. Even if they hadn't been crushed to bits, I would never have allowed Velvet to put the damn things on his head again because I can't think of many places in this country that are as nasty as the subway tracks in New York City especially when it's been raining for days like it has been here. But, as I've said, you can't tell Buzz Kill anything.

A Ray of Sunshine: The Bella Award

This afternoon I got a surprise from Time for Ritz.
Finding it was especially wonderful since I'm nearly certain that today is the first time Ritz ever left a comment, and because of following the link over to her blog, I stumbled across a whole nother group of bloggers.


One of the instructions that goes along with The Bella Award is linking to fifteen blogs. A bit intimidating since fifteen is such a big number

By way of meeting this requirement, I have listed my other awards all in one place and passed this award on to the bloggers who gave them to me. They may not exactly meet the criteria since I didn't discover them recently, but I was proud to receive these awards. Since I have to go to work again in the morning and going to work these days is a lot like being trapped in a cage full of chimpanzees throwing shit all over the place, I'd like to focus on something that made me proud instead of giving me a headache.

This one, from Kittywrinkle at Kitty's Bloggy Bits is the first award I ever got. I was such a tenderfoot in blogland at the time that I didn't even know she had given it to me which was a bit embarrassing. I learned I had received this award from Kitty when I announced that Utah Savage had given me my first award - The Love Ya Award.

So even though totally missing the award from Kitty a couple of months prior was embarrassing, I had the great pleasure of finding out I had two awards. Then next thing you know, I had another one, also from Utah Savage, The Sisterhood Award which is actually three awards in one.


A few weeks later, I was googling Menopausal Stoners which I do periodically to see if there are random mentions of the blog. Once I found a post copied in its entirety on some yahoo group about glass houses which was odd but cool since the person who posted it provided a link. A couple of things I've said about dating have wound up on a site of Russian Erotica which is odd since I was talking about Old Farts, but you never know about some people, and if they give me credit, what do I care? This particular Google search led me to India where Rajesh writes Love Never Fails from Chennai. He'd give me this Blogger's Choice Award.

I wondered if he'd found my blog because of a young woman with very deep feelings who also lives in India: Crowscious whose blog is called Crowsciousness. It's a cool kind of weird to find out that young people half way across the world are reading this blog enough to click the "follower" button, much less give it an award.

Most recently, Liberality gave me this award with the instructions that I toot my own horn. Note, I'm still tooting said horn because it's providing me with a delightful procrastination activity from writing the newsletter for my classroom and some End of the Year Reports about the kids. Also, this award was for being brilliant and it's nice to know somebody thinks I have something to contribute.

Like I said, these blogs (and Gail's Know Your Its) may not exactly meet the criteria in the rules for the Bella, but I've learned something about the world of blogging from all of them -- not the least of which is that by following the links on their blogs or in the comments of their blogs, I sometimes land in some very cool places, such as:

CPD at (parenthetical)
Fergie at Planet Sue
The Mom at Attentive Aphorist
Kulkuri at Yooper in Crackerland
Val at Matters of Integrity
Sharecropper at 23 Acres of Black Dirt
Suzi at Suzi Riot Rants from the Left
Jadedj at Banquet of Consequences Too
JDHays at This Tumbleweed Life

The Bella Rules:

1) Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person
who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.
2) Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you've newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.