Monday, December 26, 2005

(non) post

So I don't post. So what. Shoot me. It's a (non) blog.

It's not like I don't have anything interesting or amusing to say. I am quite entertaining normally. And I am not a totally unskilled writer. It's just something about blogging that suddenly has me tongue-tied at the keyboard.

I judge my (non) blog by the blogs I read. I am just not ready to put myself out there. How can these people not be stalked? Mostly I am afraid that I will say something about someone I know and that they will read my blog and not appreciate what was said. I am famous for saying the wrong thing, which is whatever is on my mind. Some people just can't take it. I know I couldn't because I have a very thin skin. If you love one thing about me, tell me. I don't want to know the rest.

Yet my blogger (non) friends lay their lives out there. It would be easy to find them if I wanted to. They are safe from me because I never go anywhere. Except for the blogger who is coming back here (the middle of nowhere) in a few weeks.

DON'T WORRY. I'm not planning anything. Just hoping that I and my spouse (who is also a fan of this blogger) will get to meet him for a drink. I know already how I will feel: stupid. If I read the blogs of the self-absorbed shallow idiots, then I could feel superior, or at least intelligent. But I read this guy's blog. This blogger is so intelligent and funny and charming, it's no wonder that he left the middle of nowhere. This is no place for him.

Lately I've been wondering if it's a place for me.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Proof This Blog Goes Unread

I got an email the other day telling me my blog was "cool" and inviting me to visit another site. I deleted the email without checking out the other site. Any spam who thinks this blog is cool is obviously not reading it.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Katrina, Katrina

I've expanded my blog circle and have been obsessed with New Orleans blogs since August 30th. I read things without the network spin. Every day I cry.

On August 30th I tried to access the Red Cross site to no avail (slow dial-up, heavy web traffic). I ended up logging on to a local t.v. station site to find the phone number for the phone bank they'd set up. I donated money to the Red Cross over the phone.

Today I got a letter from them thanking me for my donation. I wanted to scream, "Don't waste money on paper and postage!" Granted, it's not much, but multiplied by the number of letters mailed out, the amount spent on paper and postage must be astronomical. I want every cent to go to the victims! Every cent!

My favorite New Orleans blog is the Interdictor. But I spend time at Metroblogging NOLA , too. Metroblogging led me to look up an NPR story about the animals left behind. More tears. Another donation.

How can you not feel for a dog, cat, or iguana left to fend for itself in the hell that was once New Orleans? And how can you not feel for the people? How can you not feel?

I'm giving my dog, two house cats, innumerable barn cats and even that damn rabbit (which is not mine) extra love. And to the lost pets of the hurricane, I'm giving money.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Cornfield Safari

A cornfield safari is not for the faint-of-heart. Or the easily addled, the asthmatic, the claustrophobic or one prone to allergies. It is a dark and dangerous place.

Children get lost in cornfields and it is no wonder. After a few minutes among the rows you begin to wonder, "Which way am I going? Why did I come in here? How do I get out?" Before you know it there is a neighborhood brigade performing a search and rescue.

This time of year the corn is 8 foot tall. The stalks are tightly spaced. The leaves are long, slicing tenacles. The pollen forms a cloud when thrashing through the rows. The biting bugs easily hone in on human prey. And depending on the time of day, morning being the worst, the cornfield is a wet jungle.

I set out on a cornfield safari yesterday to retrieve a few of the estimated 50 range balls that are lost there. Finding 4 I declared mission accomplished and headed back out to the yard, grass, free moving air.

I lied about quitting golf. I suck at golf but suck more at keeping resolutions.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Farewell to Golf

Golf is a stupid game. Last night's attempts were as futile as ever. On the rare occasion when I actually advanced the ball I received a round of special-olympics applause. (oh look, the moron made the ball move!)

This morning I took my clubs out of the car, took out my 5 wood and hit the last of the range balls into the corn field before putting my clubs away forever.

The balls flew. Never has a club worked so well for me.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

So It Begins

I've been addicted to reading blogs lately. They have been morning soap operas for me. I have to check to see what so-and-so did. I know none of the people whose blogs I read. These people all know each other, though, and write about each other constantly.

I think I check to see if their friends agree on the stories. They do. They are great friends, all extremely intelligent, all immensely talented and of course, incredibly successful.

They are everything I'm not.