If you should hear that I’ve been arrested for killing my husband, don’t believe it for an instant.
It’s not that there aren’t moments when, in spite of being a most devoted spouse, that I’d like to to bump him off. There are.
Baseball season comes to mind, for example. Although if John dies of boredom from the constant droning of baseball announcers, I don’t think it constitutes murder.
And music differences might send me over the edge. Some day, I might just need to listen to Linda Ronstadt without someone asking me to change the music.
So why shouldn’t you believe I’d murder him?
John does our taxes every year. He has been doing them since we got married. Before that, I filed a 1040EZ form. I plan to die first just so I never have to do them.
Google Image
John spent the weekend tearing out his hair, scratching his head and swearing. Me? I went out to lunch and read blogs.
Do you ever feel you are being bitten in the butt by your own advice? Well, that’s how I’m feeling right now. And it is, well, it’s a bit odd. Because as I’m sure you’ve noticed, my advice is usually something you can depend on. Live by. Hang your hat on.
You see, a while back, my blogging buddy TwinDaddy of StuphBlog wrote a post about how uncomfortable he is getting compliments.
Naturally, being the good friend/know-it-all that I am, I gave him a piece of advice:
“[G]et used to it, TwinDaddy,” I said in the comments. “We folks who hang out here think you’re swell. Now say thanks and smile.”
And isn’t that the proper way to respond to a compliment? No hemming and hawing, no self-deprecating remarks, no false modesty. Just a simple thank you and a smile.
But tonight I find myself in a bit of a dilemma. A quandary. A pickle. And well, I’m not sure if my own advice isn’t coming back to bite me. Because I’ve gotten a compliment and I don’t really know how to respond.
I feel like hemming and hawing.
I feel like making a self-depreciating remark.
I feel like being unusually/unnaturally modest.
You see, the last week was a fantastic one here at FiftyFourAndAHalf. Out of the STAT-is-sphere, if you know what I mean. And it follows closely on my tour of the ‘sphere, with Peg and Darla and Michelle. March has been a blast.
And it is ending just as well as it began! But it is a bit confusing. Because this past week, I’ve gotten more followers than I got in the entire rest of my nearly two years of blogging.
Cool, you say. Congratulations! I want to puncture her ego (oh, wait, you wouldn’t say that to me, would you — you’re my friend!) But the thing is, I don’t know how to accept this ummm, compliment. Why not? Why not just smile and say thank you?
Because in the last week, I haven’t written a word. Nope. Not one.
So I’m trying to figure out if the secret to getting more followers is to, ummm, not write anything.
To my new bloggin’ buddies – welcome. I’m in the process of checking out your blogs. Thanks for stopping by here and letting me razz you a bit. Thank you for following me. I’m smiling.
At last I have an answer as to why a majority of white men in the United States vote for GOP candidates and swallow all those lame-ass positions touted on Fox news. Their brains short circuit.
Do you know Michelle of The Green Study? I discovered her during the holidays when we were both hanging out at C4C, Company For Christmas — the open blog for folks who were alone on the holidays. Neither of us were alone, actually. In fact, I don’t think that I “chatted” with anybody who was alone. But I made some friends, including Michelle. We followed each other, and I entered her Christmas Story contest.
And I won 2nd Prize!
Recently, I entered another one of Michelle’s contests, this time for “The Worst Job I Ever Had.” And I did it again. I won second prize. But next time, I’m going to take this bit of advice:
Check out the first prize winner, The Wisdom of Life. That job was way worse than mine.
And check out mine over at The Green Study: The Gray Zone.
One if the best things about blogs/bloggers/blogging is the camaraderie. Because the more we all write blogs, the more we all read blogs and the more we all comment on each other’s blogs, the more fun we have. And of course, the more likely we are to meet fellow bloggers face to face in the unemployment line.
No, no, no. That’s not what I mean.
What I mean is that, we bloggers like to spread the wealth. Share the fun. Tell each other about other fun places to visit and enjoy. Other folks’ blogs. The more the merrier. (Hell, who wants to work at work anyway.)
Today I am honored to be pulled along in the wake of one of the funniest of all of my bloggin’ buddies, Peg O’Leg at her blog Peg-O-Leg’s Ramblings. Yup, today I’m posted over at Peg’s in her pretty darn new Wednesday feature called
“THIS One Should Have Been Freshly Pressed”!
Most of you know Peg as a gifted humor writer who can stand her ground among other brilliant Irish writers like James Joyce, Bram Stoker and Medbh McGuckian. Unlike Joyce, Peg is NEVER boring. Unlike Stoker, Peg never terrifies us. And unlike Medbh McGuckian, we all know who Peg IS. Plus we can spell her name, which is nice.
Now Peg created her “Should Have Been FP’d” feature after realizing that all of us bloggers, from time to time, hit the PUBLISH button thinking-hoping-wishing that the brilliant piece we’ve just posted will hit the Big Time. Reach the masses. Be Freshly Pressed. And then it misses. It doesn’t. It isn’t FP’d. Our hearts are broken when only two people end up reading that brilliant post, our STATS tank, and we need to drown our whines, in wine, ice cream and chocolate. Or, in Peg’s case, in anything Reese’s.
This has happened to you. It has happened to me. But Peg, with her big heart and blog feature eased my pain. So head on over to Peg’s to sample one of my favorite humor pieces and take in a big bunch of Peg’s. Please? I bribed her into including me in the feature by promising her brilliant stats. Don’t let me down!
The Ultimate Honor
Here’s the link in case you missed the other three links: http://pegoleg.com/. Not that I’m anxious, mind you. I just don’t have enough chocolate on hand to cope if you don’t head on over to Peg’s.
FiftyFourandAHalf 