Monday morning started just like any other. I was honing the fine art of procrastination - swilling coffee, possibly picking my nose, and flipping through my blog reader. Being back at work after the long holiday weekend put me rather far behind and, though I was itching to put off the reading and post something of my own, I knew I’d end up deleting half without a glance if I waited too long. I get overwhelmed and distracted quite easily, you see.
My boss, having missed me terribly, wouldn’t stop coming by my office door and making random remarks. “Did you watch the football game Saturday night”, she asked.
“I got home in time to see the second half. I went to see Harry Potter.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You missed the first half of the Carolina vs. Clemson game...to see Harry Potter?”
“Yep. STUPIFY”, I shouted, pointing my letter opener at her.
As usual she laughed a little too obnoxiously. Then, blowing a trumpet blast of a fart, turned around and ran back to her office, red faced and giggling – leaving me with the stench of my own joke. It was quite rancid.
That woman has taught me many things about becoming older and shared lots of valuable life lessons, but none more helpful than: “When you get as old as I am, you just can’t hold it in anymore. My pucker reflex is plum puckered out.” It is, apparently, the only acceptable excuse a Southern woman can use to justify public flatulence. That or “my husband did it”. And try as I might, I simply can't justify getting married in order to let one rip whenever I choose.
I had a can of Dust Free Multi-Purpose cleaner (its compressed air that you spay to clean your keyboard and the like, in case you weren’t aware) so I sent a few blasts into the air around my head to clear the fog a bit, then got back to my blog reading. But as soon as I started, my phone vibrated with a new email. It was a comment notification.
The comment said a few things, lovely things, but the part that caught my eye was “I found you via blogs of note”.
My very first thought was, “Psssh, no way.” My second thought was, “They probably meant ‘through one of the blogs of note’ since so many of my friends have won it. I’ll bet they came over from Philip, Baglady, or Mr. London Street.”
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from clicking the mouse (which, in this case, I am not using as a euphemism for masturbation) until I reached my dashboard and the Blogs of Note tab. And there it was...my URL. I was completely bowled over. My normally dull Monday suddenly resembled a Friday. A Friday when I get off work early, have money in the bank, have a babysitter, and a date for marathon sex.
So now it’s Wednesday and here we are. I’m still insanely excited.
Welcome to all of you new folks and thank you for all the wonderful comments. I’ll be responding to them soon and checking out your blogs in return. If you haven’t yet had the chance to flick through my archives or check out more than the first one or two posts, here’s what you can expect to find (and read more of in the future):
I swear a lot and I occasionally write about sex in a graphic manner – not Harlequin throbbing-manhood- and-heaving-bosoms sort of graphic. It’s a bit more real than that. Like the time some guy insisted I call him “The Shump Daddy” and produced more sweat than an entire football team or, when I realized that I’d have to make an appointment to spend time with my own vagina.
I write a lot about my family (the main characters being my mother, my mother’s fiancé Ray, my teenage sister Leigha, The Grandmother, and my five year old daughter Hannah). Those posts are occasionally sentimental, but more often than not, full of exasperation. I also have a very large extended family and they make plenty of appearances.
And, just over the past few months, I started writing about my foray into the world of online dating. It’s definitely been an interesting experience...sometimes disturbing, occasionally satisfying.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy what you’ve read so far and that you’ll stick around for more.
Next up on the agenda is “Thanksgiving – Part two”, and possibly a rant about a man that is obsessed with himself and taking the dirt road.
Yer So Bad
5 days ago