Stuff you wanted to know about me.

Welcome Friends & Strangers!

I have noticed that many of you keep coming back to visit. and that makes me very happy. I know how hard it is finding good reading material at work – particularly in the bathroom. After all, there are only so many times one can read “Hiney Hiders” on the metal lock before getting bored.

SO. THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING ME! I don’t think enough bloggers are really truly grateful for their audience. Not like me. I am HONORED to be your queen. Knowing you care so much – well, it’s almost like having my own little fan club. Sure, celebrities complain all the time about the intrusion into their personal lives, but for the rest of us it’s just FUN. And I haven’t had to do anything really terrific to earn you. Not like star in a motion picture, or invent something stupendous, or even expose myself. Kudos!

I have noticed recently that several of my online posse (The SASSY LADIES OF BLOGDOM, or the SLOBs) have posted lists detailing heretofore-unbeknownst-details of their personal lives. And I thought WOW. WHAT A FIND. Salacious details. FOR FREE. Not only am I extraordinarily nosy, but I also enjoy knowing other people’s deepest most darkest secrets. Today I would like to share w/ you some stories ALL ABOUT ME. Because, frankly, what else are you here for?

1. Just to break the ice. I do not smoke pot but I am addicted to incense. I light sticks of it all day long. The very best incense I’ve found is made by a small company in Ohio called WILD BERRY. My neighbor has suggested I am a closet pot addict b/c of this tendency. HAHAHAHAHAHHA. No. Everyone who knows me knows I am a wino who abhors smoking. No joke.

2. When I was 4, I saw an Indian pow-wow in my backyard. I was watching through our window. The Indians were wearing feathered headdresses and sitting in a circle. When the Chief looked up and saw me watching, he got up & started coming at me. He looked really angry (presumably b/c I was watching). I remember pulling the curtain back quickly and being worried.. But nothing ever happened. I am still not sure if the Indians were real. or ghosts.

3. My younger daughter just started peeling the sunburned skin off my back. She gets very intent on what she is doing, and insists that I cooperate. Strangely, I like the sensation. It sort of reminds me of my crazy little bird Kiwi. I recently saw a David Attenborough program, Life of Birds, which talks about ox-peckers doing the same thing. They aide their hosts by removing parasites and dead skin – but they also often draw blood by pecking little surface cuts. The ox-pecker will pick pick pick at parasites and then dash back to lick a little off the wound. Kiwi – my crazy ass bird, does this. but Georgia most definitely does not. Thank God.

4. I get very annoyed when I am stopped on the street by people canvassing for politicians, political parties or the environment. Even when I totally agree w/ their agenda. I want to yell at them NO I DON”T HAVE A MINUTE FOR THE ENVIRONMENT. WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME FOR MONEY. YOU KNOW THE $10 BUCKS I COULD GIVE YOU IS JUST PAYING FOR YOU TO STAND THERE. IT’S NOT HELPING ANYTHING. YOU’D BE BETTER OFF PANHANDLING. THEN AT LEAST I’D FEEL SORRY FOR YOU INSTEAD OF JUST FEELING HARASSED.

5. The house I grew up in had a large detached stone garage, with space downstairs for cars and a large loft above with electricity, where we’d store Christmas decorations. Beneath the garage there was a cellar. This cellar was used solely for storing excess firewood, and you could access it from a dark stairwell on the side of the building. This cellar had a name. The Snake Pit. I do not know whether there were any real snakes down there, but the name and reality of the place was more than enough to strike the fear of God into a child. I was never brave enough to go down to the Snake Pit myself, but when i got to high school, my dad used to make my boyfriend go down there to get logs. He’d yell LINC! GO GET SOME WOOD OUT OF THE SNAKE PIT!! And then when Linc left to get the wood, my dad would look at me. and SMILE.

6. My parents had a bus when I was a kid. A converted full-size school bus. It was painted black & white, and had wooden bunk beds in the back. But the damn thing never worked. We tried taking all the kids to the roller rink in it for one of my birthday parties, but we couldn’t get it started, Of course. Talk about a party pooper.

7. Today – August 22nd – marks 11 years since John & I had our very first date. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY BABY!