When good mail clerks go bad
Jan. Guess what! That cook book I sent to you is somewhere in the small intestines of Augusta, Georgia.
It’s never a good sign when the USPS sends an envelope containing the empty envelope I sent a week before with a real, live book in it.
What’s left is reminiscent of a hungry mail clerk eating right through the envelope and taking the book you won with it.
While fiber is a good thing and gas prices have impacted even the USPS, I would prefer they didn’t eat the items I try to ship to my readers.
As a result, could you please email me? The USPS can’t take our email away and digest it like so many hopes and dreams in the forms of *sob* cook books!
I am so having one of those evenings.
I’m not doing what I ought to be doing, even though I have no clue what I’m supposed to be doing. It just goes with the territory.
So I float with my head in the dandelion fluff of thought and hope I’ll land somewhere meaningful and take root.
You’ll notice I haven’t updated my weight in awhile. This is for a reason: I’ve been off-plan for the last month and am now getting back to brass tacks. See? I’m absolutely honest with you, and make no bones about it. I know! Aren’t I special? I can’t be a fibber. I’m too lazy to keep track of lies, and too spacy to keep them straight. I prefer honesty. Don’t you?
I don’t have any regrets about being off-plan, per se; it’s what life does to you sometimes. I’m looking forward to feeling more on top of my game as I enter back into ketosis, with better mental clarity and —wait. Who laughed?
Someone laughed when I said ‘mental clarity’. Was that you?
You’re a tough crowd.
On lacking inspiration and maturity occasionally. Stop laughing.
So, writing for Examiner is going well, and I apptreciate your support! I have the best readers of any columnist online! It’s why I pay you–what? What do you mean I don’t pay you? I DO! Now I think the USPS ate the checks.
Let me know what you’d like to see more of. As I promised, I’m keeping both sites separate so as to not make this simply a mirror site. At the same time, the hardest thing for me is the constantly obsessing over what I think people might want to know next. I go to bed with Examiner in my head and wake up with a headache and a frantic desire to do my best. It’s hard for me not to give something my all. So what happens in the meantime? I neglect this blog and the place I have a great time visiting with you.
I mean, the column is the bomb. I love it and am blessed to be paid to write. And my bosses and friend-writers? I am truly lucky and fortunate! At the same time, I can’t make anyone mad. N0 nipple talk and it should be more serious. I’m like, how can I be serious unless I mention the occasional wardrobe malfunction? I might asplode from the seriousness. Then I’m reminded I’m a professional now, so I eat a piece of beef jerky and think some more about how to be clever and acceptable socially. (And try not to asplode)
I’m not feeling it this week, but I’m trying my best to channel my inner adult. The problem is, it’s making armpit noises in my general direction. I promise I’ll try harder. I suppose.
Cool News about my mad parenting skillz
Oh! did I tell yous guys that I’m now a writer for Parents Canada Magazine? Don’t look so scared!
It is a beautiful, well-written magazine (and I’m a sucker for white space, and this layout has it going on), and I am so honored to be a writer for them now. My article on getting kids ready for school will be coming out in the next month. If you’re in Canada, look for it! If you’re not, then cross the border to buy one. If the border guards try to give you a rectal cavity search, repeat after me, “You can’t do that to me. I’m an American!”
It works every time. Or so I’m told.
And then there’s other places…
I’ve also been picked up by another online media outlet to write current events pieces. You’d think I’d be better about this stuff, seeing as I read the Superficial and other heady, intellectual stuff. Like Perez Hilton. I love my editor and am so lucky to have another writing gig. I usually always have something to say. but… I’m just not feeling it. Aren’t I rotten? I love to write, but I like helping people and giving information without sounding like I’m anal or an authoritah. Giving my opinion in a sea of opinions for money seems lame. It’s not even my best writing! I hate it when I don’t think I’m putting my best out there. And when I do, it’s too funny. Me? Too funny?
Dang my funny-ness Stuff!
I’ll keep trying, but I needed a breather to evaluate who I am and what I really want to say. If I’m not proud of the content, what’s the point? And if it’s not helpful, what’s the motivation?
I mean, it’s a good thing I pay you guys to… what? I’m not paying you guys to read this? OMGoth!
On to the good stuff
I have a lot of recipes coming, a netrition gift card good for their store, and more cook book and book reviews and a few giveaways! That’s a heap of stuff.
Do you miss spaghetti? I have spaghetti for you.
Miss lasagna the way you used to have it? I have that for you too.
Miss ravioli? I have ravioli for you.
Miss me? I’ll be around more. Promise. Even if I’m not paying you to read this stuff.
You guys are the reason I even decided to write for Examiner in the first place; and I haven’t been fabulous about writing here lately. And, to be honest, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.
It’s easy to become overwhelmed by some things, especially when I start forgetting the point of it; or when the point is lost in page layouts and text colors, research and page links and not being with my homies. Or feeling helpful. Or wondering what I’m doing. What am I doing?
I’m a book-lover looking at a room lined with books and not seeing the possibilities and the promise in a comfortable, deep leather chair by the fire, inhaling the pages of thousands of potential adventures. I’m merely
skimming the indexes and sniffing through tomes for tidbits on an unyielding wooden chair in between moments of clarity and meandering cluelessly through a maze of chaos.
I miss you guys. So I’m going to make the effort to visit you more often before I attempt to work. Or sleep. Or shower. *sniff* Because you’re my pals, my family and my friends.
And because you can’t smell my armpits when I don’t shower, and you don’t ask my why I shave my legs with the pet groomer. Like my neighbors.
Dude, I meant to be more ee cummings and turned all James Joyce.
So! On to the better days ahead as we move towards fall and positive habits! I want to know how you are doing in your weight loss journeys. Drop me a line or a comment and brag on your sweet self. I want to celebrate with you, and you deserve that much for reading the novel I just wrote. Who let me out of the qwerty rehab center anyway?