April 3, 2006

Code Phrase.

Sometimes I get a little freaked out when I find out who exactly reads my blog. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s a welcomed boost to my ego when I get comments and whatnot about my little ponderings and musings about life, but once in a while I’ll meet up with someone that recites verbatim something I’ve written and I have to stop and say “whoa”. Then I feel a little bit of pressure to come up with something even more witty or inspiring than previous entries and then it happens.

Brain freeze. Creative Seize. Help me, help me, please.
Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight.

I know that there’s a few people the read my blog on a daily basis. And I think that’s great. I don’t know who you are, but your little IP address pops up on my monthly report that gets e-mailed to me and I hope that you enjoy my little missives. But then someone (we’ll call her Maude) has to chime in, “say something nice about (so and so) in your blog, they love it so much.”

I just can’t do that.

It throws my chi and my creative flow in an awkward direction and then I don’t know what to write about. You see, if I’m going to do homework of sorts, I want it handed to me on purple ditto paper so that I can get high from the fumes. It’s not that I don’t like so and so or whatever, it’s just that my blog is a form of my creative expression and I can’t use it to do “shout outs”. I had enough of that back in my radio days.

“Justin says nighty-night to Amber and hopes you’ll go steady with him after lunch tomorrow.”

Yes folks, I had to say things like that on the radio on a nightly basis. It was vomit inducing. I hated that more than having to say “Thank you for shopping at Wonderful Hills” to every customer back when I was working as a cashier. Hills was a fine department store, but I can’t think of one person that could say “Wonderful Hills” with a straight face.

So if you enjoy my blog, I’m happy. If you have something to say, by all means say it. And if you want to acknowledge that you read my blog when you meet me or see me, just say “Thank you for shopping at Hills.”

Unbelievable.

After a while at work this morning, we started talking about what we had done over the weekend. It took a little while to get the conversation going as everyone was groggy due to the blasted Daylight Saving Time, but now there’s more daylight, right?

Anyways, when asked what we did over the weekend, I simply responded that Earl and I had gone to Virginia for the weekend.

“Virginia?”, they asked in unison. By the look on their faces, you would have thought I had just say, “Earl and I went to the moon and back, and since we had some extra time we made a stop at Uranus.”

I think I’ve become so whacked out that I forget that “normal” people don’t drive from Upstate New York to Northern Virginia for a ride in the country. They drive maybe 30 or 40 miles, see some cows, eat at a restaurant or go to a beach or something. And that’s just dandy! Earl and I believe our life mission is to experience as much of life as we can, so that’s what we’re doing.

Anyways, I told my co-workers about Luray Caverns and having dinner and all that. Then I listened with interest as they chimed in with their adventures over the weekend, which sounded equally as exciting but in their own way. That’s a good thing; everyone can’t be doing the same thing, it would just be too boring.

But they continued to look at me like I’m some sort of nut. That makes me proud, as I wear the title well.