It was But Luckily, Heather who gave me the second bloggy award! Heather, thanks for contacting this GIANT DORK. She did leave me a comment … I just missed it. (eeek!) I’ll try to blame this on my internet connection, which makes DIAL UP look like the autobahn, and which means I’m hardly able to upload a post, much less spend any time online.
Right now my FTP says we’re blazing along at 1.8 KB per second. In case you’re wondering, this means that the Google home page (with only one image) takes around 6 hours to open.
But this post isn’t about my sucky connection! It’s about the following blogs, which I love as much as the ones I already mentioned before.
Unfortunately, my internet connection sucks so bad right now that I can’t even browse through my favorites to find the blogs. I’ll update this post after I fire my internet people my connection improves, tomorrow either way. Maybe Cowboy and I will have to go get some coffee tomorrow at the place with free wireless.
~Growl~
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Okay! It is Wednesday now, and Cowboy & I am sitting in a coffeeshop that has FREE INTERNET, and while he secretly plays the mini-Nintendo that he is grounded from (sshhh! don’t tell!) I can blog quickly. Here we go with the awards! All these people will likely be surprised because I hardly ever comment on them… between sucky internet & being busy, I mostly lurk on these bloggers. Now they know.
In no particular order (the order I added them to my Favorite Blogs folder):
Though I love or don’t love blogs based solely on their content, Cakerwakers and Stay at Home Something both make the design-loving part of my brain smile every time I open their blogs. Their blogs are just lovely to look at.
…About aging. First of all how fast it happens. One day you’re getting weird looks from teenagers who already think you’re old, but whom you still think are peers. The next day you’re walking around the mall thinking half these morons need lobotomies.
Then there’s the hair. For heaven’s sake. I mean, I knew about chin hairs. I have a memory of watching my Grama early on a Saturday, holding her 200x magnifying mirror and squinting into the morning sun, trying to catch that one damned hair. I remember thinking, “she has hairs on her chinny-chin-chin, just like the three little pigs!” But she was OLD by then. OLD!
She was not frapping 29 years old and having to search her ENTIRE BODY with tweezers every other day. Because you never know when one of those damned things is going to pop out of your elbow, or your belly button, or your frapping boob. One friend WHO SHALL REMAIN COMPLETELY NAMELESS WITHOUT EVEN SO MUCH AS A LETTER TO DESCRIBE HER found a 3-inch-long hair growing out of her butt.
She said all she could think was, “Thank the Lord I’m single and no man saw that.” As if a man would notice, honey. I found one of those growing out of a freckle on the back of my bicep, which is otherwise hairless. Just one long, weird, black hair in the middle of a pasty white chubby arm.
At this point my short & curlies stretch from my belly button to my knees, and at some point I’m just going to give up on the razors, tweezers, cream, and mini grooming razors and go join the circus. I’ll be the upside-down bearded lady.
Some other time I’ll rant a little about all the weird lumps and bumps and divots that have attached themselves to my body. I go out where I should go in and in where I should go out. My whole body is in complete rebellion against me now. I shudder to think what I’ll look like under my clothes by the time I’m 39. I’m picturing plucked supermarket chickens with Carol Burnett tennis-ball boobs.
(If that last comment makes no sense to you, watch the clip below - you can skip to 1:45 - I picked this one because Charo is in it, too).
All the time on blogs I see those little awards and plaques and things and feel like the girl who gets picked last in PE again.
But this week I GOT TWO! Woah! My little heart is going pitty-pat-pat-pat over this. Thank you! and I’m passing these along, too.
Thank you to Sara at News from NOLA for the Internet BFF award. Now I know there is one person in the world besides my hubband who doesn’t think I’m completely crazy. Woo-hoo! Go check out her blog and look for a little boy wearing a whole roll of toilet paper, which has made me giggle several times already.
A Mom Two Boys(when you stop to read one post and don’t click away for an hour, you know you’ve found a great blog)
June Cleaver Nirvana(look for her teddy bear post, which is what made me fall in love with her blog)
Robin’s Woods(those chipmunks are starting to feel like family)
Jenny Bloggess(I don’t always get it, but it’s always funny - language warning)
The second internet award waaaasssss (drumroll, please).
I. don’t. know.
I do not know, and this driving me crazy. I went back where I *thought* it was to get the image & confirm the link… and now I can’t find it. I went through my whole history, every Entrecard dropper for the past 10 days… and nothing. Maybe she took it down?
Sara told me about hers, and it popped up on my Wordpress dashboard. For the other one I don’t have either. IF YOU NOMINATE SOMEONE LET THEM KNOW! They might have had two glasses of wine when they found it and their memory was fuzzy. I only found it by accident - what if I hadn’t checked last week at all? I never would have known…
UPDATE: Hubband sent a nice note to the teacher, and she wrote back saying she “understood completely.” On the MIL’s advice, and since we may be moving soon, we simply wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper and decided not to cause too much trouble for Dolly at school. Dolly had heard us discussing it and she said, “Maybe my teacher agrees with Daddy, and she just has to do her job.” Has she overheard this or does she have a better grasp on life than I thought?
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Dolly came home from school with an official-looking envelope, ominous words on front reading: “Must be completed and returned by this date.” Always one to be helpful, I pull out the enclosed survey and start to fill it out.
The very first thing causes a little blood vessel in my brain to pop. They want to know my daughter’s race, my race, my age, etc. Maybe I’m a bit overreactive, but we are people who always check “not disclosed” on the race box. It’s nobody’s damn business. In fact, I think these sort of questions that keep separating all of us out into neat little boxes are part of the problem.
But I continue. Next they ask many questions about our family. Having taken one Intro to Psych class in college, I recognize a psych trick: they are asking the same questions in different ways, to see if I’m consistent in how I answer. I’m getting really nervous now.
Wendy
hubband who doesn’t think I’m completely crazy. Woo-hoo! Go check out her blog and look for a little boy wearing a whole roll of toilet paper, which has made me giggle several times already.
