Fame

During a skype date with one of my favorite humans, I was informed I have a stalker.  A celebrity type stalker . . . not the creepy type.

I feel like Kevin Bacon.

A stalker . . . you know you're on your way to fame! fortune! world domination! when you have a stalker.  Even if that stalker is one of your favorite humans.

But, now I have this insane pressure to do something, anything, worth being stalked for.  Oh, fame, you're so fickle.

SMLF . . . CHARGE!!!

I made lunch for the Spider Monkey Lunch Forum today.  Because, I'm cool like that.  And, because I had an abundance of cherry tomatoes from my garden I needed to use before I take off for the vacay of a lifetime.

Summer time means lots and lots and lots of Chopped Greek Salad.  And, it couldn't be easier.  This giant bowl has quartered cherry tomatoes, two long (farmer's market) cucumbers that I peeled and chopped, a couple small (also farmer's market) purple onions I chopped, and two yellow bell peppers also chopped.  I also like to add a handful of chopped italian parsley if I have it available.  Often, I make a dressing of salt/pepper/finely chopped or grated garlic, fresh lemon juice and olive oil.  But, I'm being lazy today and bought greek dressing in a bottle. 

At lunch, I'll add in greek olives, feta, chick peas, and I bought some spinach in case anyone wants leafy greens with their salad.  I also have regular and roasted red pepper hummus and pita bread.

I'm pretty sure, I could invade the next county over, once my troops are well fed.

I can't resist a theme

Some time last year, the Spider Monkey Lunch Forum decided that we should institute "Tuesday Bring Your Own Damn Lunch" days. This was very popular, and the monkeys were pretty creative with what they toted for lunch. But, the holidays came, and schedules got busy, and they have kinda fallen by the wayside.

We are trying to revive the whole "Bring Your Own Damn Lunch" ritual. But, we're open to it being on various days of the week. See . . . Flexibility! From Spider Monkeys . . . who knew.

Anyway, today we decided that we needed to have BYODL, St. Patty's Day edition. But, we're calling it "St. Monkey's Day" and have a green theme to the day.

You know me . . . my issues with meals and themes and the chinese red army. I'm making lunch. A florentine pasta dish (with both spinach and green peas) and other green foods. I have green tea ginger ale. I have granny smith apples and caramel sauce. I even have green apple gummy things.

All in all, a green theme is so much easier than say a purple one.

With friends like me . . .

who needs public school?

I am all too aware that some day, probably sooner than I'd like to think, the responsibility of trundling me off to an orphanage for oldies is going to fall to the child of one of my friends. The fun thing is, I don't know which child will someday lose that bet.

So, I have a plan to insure a reasonable level of comfort (my diapers being changed at least once a day). I am the favorite Auntie of all my friend's kids. The trick . . . subversive gifts.

When I am looking for gifts for the children of my friends, not only do I assess if I think the toy/object will delight the child in question, but also I measure just how much will it annoy or unnerve the parent. This has led to the remote control tarantula, the electronic drum-sticks, and the bubble gum dispenser. Heh heh.

I am the bad influence. And, I'm okay with that.

What the Kids are Callin It

I gots fans. Well, one. A small one. But darn cute. And, she seems to have issues with hiding out in the bathroom, but I haven't asked why.

However, stardom has a price. Now that I've got such an innocent and uncynical fan, I might have to rethink how much profanity I use in the future.

The parade of superficial popularity continues

Remember the exploits The Chick and I had, exploiting the cute young waiter? You remember . . . the very very very friendly, very very very good looking waiter who was in training to be a horse dentist? Yeah . . . him. Anyway, in the course of our flirtation, I decided I needed to explore his backstory. I mean really . . . a horse dentist? So, in my investigation, I set up a facebook account so I could check out his page. (And, what do you know . . . the sweet young thing was pretty much telling us the truth.)

That was months and months ago. I promptly forgot my log in information for facebook. Until last week. Last week, I got an email that some person I don't know had added me as a friend. How they even found me is a mystery because I only recall putting in a name . . . no other identifying information.

In a fit of procrastination, I started exploring facebook. I found people I attended school with many years ago. Some, I have good memories of. Some, meh . . . not so much. And, of course there were the usual folks I'd communicate with anyway. I even found one of those behavioral science types from my past.

For about 24 hours, I basked in the illusion of popularity. I was adding friends and sending messages and pokin' folks left and right. Then, it all calmed down. And, I'm realizing that I'm still that rather unpopular, rather strange, particularly nerdy monkey I've always been. But, for one shining day . . . I felt popular.

Shopping

So, I decided against any sort of underpants purchase . . . because I was unsure as to which design or pattern might be most fashionable. And, frankly, I was planning on showing off those first undies to anyone who cared to see them. I guess it's a double bonus . . . I saved money and the rest of the world was spared being blinded by the sight of my bloomers.

But, I did stimulate the local economy. A friend and I went to a small, rural community and visited several local craftspeople and purchased their wares. I picked up quite a few lovely items, got several difficult christmas giftees taken care of . . . and put money in the hands of the people who actually made the goods.

I think we should start a movement to convert day after thanksgiving shoppers from mall runs and stomping poor wal-mart workers to death . . . and encourage them to seek out actual artisans and craftpeople . . . and purchase their wares. It would make the community stronger . . . and give you good karma.

And, I'm still recovering from the most excellent meal we shared with friends for thanksgiving. Honestly, the best collards ever. And the corn pudding was so good I was almost embarassed to take a 4th helping . . . almost.

Really Clever Revenge

I have a friend who works in my business but in another office. Let's call her "Magnolia" -- since, that's what she calls herself. Magnolia likes to think of herself as "evil" when in fact she gives all outward appearances of being the picture of serene, southern, femininity.

Magnolia has a big sales pitch today. One of those accounts that will double her office's income. One of those sales that is so big, merely meeting during business hours doesn't reflect the seriousness of the importance of the sale. No, she who is the picture of proper southern ladyship must, gasp, meet over drinks tonight.

Magnolia instant messenged me late last night full of nervousness over today's sales pitch. She was worried about what she was going to say . . . that she not embarrass herself by ordering some over the top girly drink . . . or that she get too tipsy on the one drink she will be required to order. And, she didn't know what she was going to wear to convey her professionalism but also her ability to get the job done. I think "atwitter" is the appropriate word to describe her state.

Following in the line of thinking that if you are nervous addressing an audience, you should picture them in their undies . . . I told her that I knew for a fact that one of the people she would be pitching to doesn't wear undies at all. Apparently, this knowledge was not helpful. Magnolia now fears that when she meets this particular person, she will be consumed with this tidbit of knowledge and either dissolve into giggles or spend the whole evening trying to catch a glimpse of underwear line (or not).

This morning, there is a hearse parked in front of my office. Then, when I went to the Post Office, I found a hearse parked next to my car. Now that's clever revenge . . . arrange for funeral parlor vehicles to hound me all day. If it weren't so disturbing, I'd be laughing. Of course, now ESK is going to have to open our mail . . . outside the office . . . at least 500 yards away.

Outing myself, maybe

Yes, booze was involved.

We went to a dinner party. We gathered around the television and watched basketball . . . cheering for one team over the other. Discussing the prospects for the final four. And, we were eating and drinking and making merry . . . when someone asked me if I were still writing.

They, of course, thought I'd be working on a novel. When I blushed and said that I write a blog, they were immediately interested. The only thing is . . . I don't really let to many people I know in real life know about my blog.

They tried to pry out of me the name or premise of my blog. I tried to oblige their questions without really letting on how they could find me. I hope. There was a lot of tequila being poured.

I tried to deflect attention away by mentioning that I was once pursued romantically by a monk. It didn't really work. sigh.

Paranoia

I sometimes comfort myself in thinking that I have the least popular blog in the blogosphere. When I check my little site meter, it warms my little monkey heart to see that someone, anyone, has read it. I especially like seeing the little dots for the regular readers . . . and I like to think it is only appropriate that I seem popular in Germany.

However, in recent weeks, a couple people I KNOW in real life have started reading. People who don't know all my dirty little secrets . . . not like the Chick knows them.

I'm trying not to let it change the way I blog. But, I admit, I'm waiting for the day when a comment shows up from someone who recognizes, or thinks they recognize, themselves in my scribblings.

Oh well. I've lived incognito before. I could do it again if need be. But, please know . . . if you appear in this blog . . . I don't mean anything mean spirited . . . unless "asshat" is next to your actual name.

Easily Addicted

As many of you may know - I embrace a few addictions. Steroids. Fruity. TMZ and YouTube. I don't indulge in internet porn - but I think I see everything on the net that isn't porn. (Perhaps if you humans combined Wild Kingdom and internet porn --- the chase, sex, and then kill and eat -- then maybe I'd be addicted to that too.)

I'm also completely addicted to the site meter. I get all happy when I see lots of hits. But, probably more important is the little world map function. I especially like it when you see that the internet address is something as expansive as "The Republic of Korea." Intellectually, I know it was just one human in that locale - but I like to think of the entire nation tuned in instead. Several months ago, one popped up several times that was "Wyoming" and of course, I assumed the entire state was tuning in. Maybe if I'd given them a shout out, they'd still be reading. sigh.

And, true to my human like ways, I am totally self centered in my site meter addiction - I pretty much never check other people's meters. Well, I use to check the Chick's until she got way more popular than me.

Wordless: Worship me! Look into my eyes, I can give you eternal life . . . worship me, now go find me some bananas

Shameless endorsement

I read several blogs. Some, I check on daily - others several times a week - and some just once a week. I generally avoid "mommy blogs" because I don't really want to read over and over again about how little Tiffany is the cutest thing on the planet. But, I do read a few mommy blogs -- especially ones that are more about the experiences of the mom -- and have a lot of references to sex, drugs, rock & roll and a peppering of profanity.

Couple that with my insatiable desire to be beloved as I slowly take over the planet. And, this next blog is a sure bet to become a daily read.

Those who actually read the comments -- or who have read this blog for a while know that I make reference to The Chick from time to time. And, The Chick makes plenty of comments.

Now, as proof of my influence and cult following - The Chick has started her own blog. And not your run of the mill mommy blog. The Chick has opinions - and fits of silliness. And, she's a good writer. She is currently shopping around a novel she wrote over the winter. Writing is part of what defines her as a person.

So, if you want to see her blog - which I recommend, hop on over to

http://chickfeed.blogspot.com/

quick question

If two of the billion people in China read this blog, does that make a cult following?