Powerless Over Hash Browns: A Limerick

Please forgive the short post, but I've had to go out of town suddenly to help with a family medical emergency. I hope to be home and back in the saddle very soon.

(As you can see from this morning's inspiration, if I keep stress-eating at the current rate, I will need a bigger mustache by the time you see me next.)

In the meantime, though, I wanted to send a humble thank you to BlogHer for selecting my recent post, "Wham. Bam. Mammogram," as BlogHer of the Week. I am truly honored.

A Potpourri, If You Will, Of Experiences

And How Was Your Weekend?

Don't get me wrong - mine wasn't bad. No, I wouldn't call it that. It was more like...well, let me put it this way:

When I was little, we had an annual carnival at my elementary school and one of the game prizes was called The Grab Bag. It was a pillow case, basically, and you could slink an arm down in there and pick your prize without seeing it. There was something about the mystery of not knowing what I'd pull out of that bag that made this prize my favorite.

(Do I still love being surprised by mysterious items in pillow cases? Not so much.)

Anyway, I'm still recovering from what I'd call a Grab Bag weekend, with each day presenting a fresh opportunity for me to plunge a twitching limb into the pillowcase of life and haul out a fresh, steaming experience to cherish forever...or at least until I can squeegee it off the windshield of my mind.

Friday: I Accidentally Eat A Flower

Friday night we're out to dinner for the first time with new family friends - lovely, civilized people on whom we hope to make a decent impression. Everything is going just fine until I take a bite of pasta and, when I start chewing, realize there's something floating around in my mouth that's not a member of the pasta family of foods.

Very suave-like, I glance down at my plate and see that, while there were formerly three little ornamental garnish flowers nestled against my ravioli, the head count now has dropped to two.

Play it cool, I tell myself. I can do this. I smile and nod along with the conversation as my molars clamp down on the intrepid daisy and it releases a stream of bitter flower venom in retaliation.

"Sounds like you've got a great vacation planned," I gasp at our friends and silently wonder if I can nonchalantly slip under the table on all fours, arch my back a couple dozen times and hork the blossom up without jeopardizing future dinner invitations.

Because, see, the thing about those little garnish flowers is this: on the plate they look all innocent and dainty like this...


But in your mouth, they are more like, um, this:


Saturday: I Am Traumatized By The Mail

I love getting the mail. It's just so...exciting. After all, "You may already be a winner!" Right?

Not this weekend.

Here's what I find when I skip down the steps with my little silver mailbox key:


What? Has my independence been confiscated? Am I going to have to somehow buy it back now, one compulsory orthopedic footwear purchase at a time?

I'm still reeling from this discovery when this falls out onto the driveway with a slap:


What the Buddy Ebsen is going on here? Wait a second, I know what this is! It's one of those catalogs that appears to be full of harmless sweaters, but actually contains jars of eye ointments with names like "Bag-Lift" and sexual aids marketed not by porn stars but by doctors.

What dark forces have conspired to rub my nose in my mortality ebbing youth in the sanctity of my own driveway? Which company sold me out? I swear, you buy one festive cheese log through the mail and suddenly the demographic gurus assume you're incontinent. Which is exactly what I almost become when this falls out of the catalog:


Sunday: A Trip And Fall Down Memory Lane

I pull out an old photo album to find a particular shot and end up flipping through all the pages with Morticia (not my daughter's real name).

Which is when she finds this photo (a Friday night in So Cal, circa early 80s) and dissolves into snorts of laughter:


(Granted, the uniform looks a lot more bad ass when I'm brandishing my clarinet. I love that blouse, though. Ironically, that's what I'm wearing when I eat the hateful flower at dinner Friday night. Funny how life works, huh?)

They say comedy = tragedy + time. Perhaps I should have given this photo a couple more years...?


Thank you to Tessa at An Aerial Armadillo for listing me as the person who makes her laugh until she's weak. What an amazing compliment from an amazing person! Thank you.

Thank you to Francies Fancies for the huge shout-out and link! Wow!

Thank you to Fragrant Liar for the Zombie Chicken Award! Get the cluck outta here!

And a huge thank you to everyone who's gone to the trouble to vote for our BlogHer Conference panel entitled "Dying is Easy, Comedy is Hard!" I'll let you know as soon as we find out whether we've made it on to the agenda. (Voting closes May 1.) We appreciate your support!

Our Man On The Inside

Well, That Explains Why The Hamper's Always Full

Do you ever wish you could get inside the head of the opposite sex (there are still only two, right?) and see first-hand how they think?

They say everyone has a masculine side and a feminine side. Well, after doing some in-depth research for almost four minutes on Google, I've discovered that science has made great strides in locating these personality aspects within the psyche.

In fact, the technology now exists to isolate our masculine and feminine personas and actually pull them out as separate entities. Naturally, I'm very excited about this, and I'm even more excited to introduce to you my masculine side:

Chet.

Anna: Welcome, Chet.

Chet: Yo.

Anna: I'm so happy to finally meet you. I have so many questions about men!

Chet: Oh, here we go.

Anna: Is something the matter?

Chet: This is what you always do, isn't it? Talk and share, talk and share. If you don't mind my saying so, it's a tad stifling.

Anna: Wait, what?

Chet: Maybe I just want to exist, all right? Maybe I don't want to be "sharing" every moment of the day.

Anna: Did you just air quote me?

Chet: And here comes the feigned outrage. Man, you are so predictable. [shakes head]

Anna: Did Jon Bon Jovi put you up to this?

Chet: Oh, please. Don't drag that poor guy into this. You think it's easy for him? He's not really losing his hearing, you know. He's just sick of you trying out material on him all the time. That's why he pretends all he can hear is the neighbor's dachshund.

Anna: And you can just sense this, can you?

Chet: [examines his nails] A man knows.

Anna: Chet, you're supposed to be on my side. You're an aspect of me, remember?

Chet: You know, your possessive tendencies are more than a little unattractive. Don't even get Jon Bon Jovi started on that. [snorts]

Anna: Are you kidding me? I'm not taking this crap from someone wearing George Michael's old earrings.

Chet: Stop smothering! [gasps, clutches chest] I need some "me" time!

Anna: Is that a mullet?

Chet: I think you're forgetting that I've seen you try on swimsuits in fluorescent-lit dressing rooms.

Anna: [gasps, whispers] We do not speak of that. [sniffles]

Chet: Oh, great. [throws up hands] Here come the waterworks!



Please vote to put me and four very talented humor-blogging colleagues on the agenda for BlogHer 2009! Our panel is titled DYING IS EASY, COMEDY IS HARD and you can go to our voting page by clicking here:


Then, after you've registered with the BlogHer site, just click on the link at the top of the page that reads "I would attend this session." It looks like this:

There's no obligation - you're just voting to put us on the schedule.

Polls close May 1 and every vote makes a huge difference! Thanks SO MUCH for your support! (And thanks to everyone who's already voted!)

Thank you to Tessa at An Aerial Armadillo for the Renee Award. I am truly honored.


Two new blog friends just added to my blogroll: Tim at The Blue Frog Says... and Sarah at Notes from the Toilet Bowl. Thank you for the generous shout-outs!

Thank you to Wendy at On The Front Porch for the Zombie Chicken Award! (That slapping sound is my waddle flopping in appreciation...)

And, lastly, thank you to everyone who passed my mammogram post (below) along to friends or linked to it or shared it on Facebook. I can't tell you how much that means to me.