It's Interview Time - Welcome The Creative Junkie!

Welcome to my second official interview!  As you all know, I have a few favorite bloggers.  And Andrea, who is the beauty and the brains of The Creative Junkie, is a definite "must read" for me.  If you aren't familiar with her work, you must check her out.  But be forewarned, do not drink carbonated beverages while reading her blog.  It hurts when you spew it out of your nose (and this, I must say, is a nice lead in to my first question).  During the interview, my additional comments will be in (red). 

It must be said that Andrea has really helped get my blog started.  She gave me some really great advice when I was super new, and I will be eternally grateful to her.  So much, in fact, that I am thinking of sending her Joshua for his entire summer break every year.  I bet she is so excited at that prospect, and I am sure she'll love it. . .

Now on to the interview!

Welcome Andrea! (everyone should be clapping politely and imagining a talk show here.  Don't forget to be really impressed with the set.)

1. Of course, as you may know from reading the comments I leave for you on your blog, I often spew coffee out of my nose after reading one of your posts, because I am laughing and drinking at the same time. I must ask you: do you enjoy torturing people this way? And have you ever thought of adding some kind of warning about this to your blog header?

I wouldn’t say I enjoy it so much as I relish it with a gusto typically reserved for having double helpings of pasta carbonara with extra bacon slathered all over my body. I won’t be changing my header anytime soon, unless I get trapped under Photoshop and can’t get up. I got one of those Life Alert things, just in case.

2. You know I am going to see Anderson Cooper this weekend. Would you like me to deliver any type of personal messages to him for you?

Please tell him that I’ve framed the restraining orders because Hobby Lobby was having an awesome sale last week. And then tell him we have matching hair although only my hair stylist could prove it but he won’t because I would punch him in the throat first. My stylist, not my Anderson. Make sure you tell Anderson I won’t punch him. Oh, and then tell Anderson that he and I could call each other “Andy” without having to legally change our names and fill out all that stupid paperwork on our honeymoon. Or I could call him “Sam” and he could call me “Suzie” and we could be muskrats and brag that once upon a time in the seventies, a mute captain and his wife with freakishly large teeth recorded a song about us because they knew that we were destined to be together. And then kiss him on the nose for me. Are you writing all this down?

(Andrea, I did write all this down.  And I slipped this information into his pocket, along with your blog address.  Don't be surprised if you start getting flowers from a "secret admirer" very soon.  wink wink nudge nudge)

3. When you started your blog, did you think it would actually turn out as funny as it is? Or are you actually being serious when you write and people just *think* you’re trying to be funny?

I had no idea in what direction I was going when I started my blog three years ago. Originally I thought it was going to be a platform for my digital design work, hence the name The Creative Junkie. If I had known that I was going to end up writing about my orange pee and cold sores and my puppy’s poop and my husband’s genitalia, I’d have called it something different, like, maybe, FOR SHIT’S SAKE, WHAT THE HELL? All in caps because I’d be shouting it for any readers who were hard of seeing.

(I missed the orange pee post.  Now I'm going to have to go look that up.  Somehow, I bet it's fabulous.  I'm assuming if I search your blog site with orange pee, it'll pop right up.)

4. I wish I had a super cool name for my blog. Any suggestions?

See #3. I suck at names.

5. You know I am totally jealous of your designer handbag. Since I don’t actually make any money at blogging, (or in any other way), any suggestions on how to persuade my husband to buy me one? (I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this really.)

Is this a trick question?

6. I don’t know if you saw my blog post that was about how close I was to scoring my first big endorsement deal, but if you didn’t, let’s just say it fell through. The Bloggess suggested I should have asked to be paid in chupacabra feet. Do you feel she’s right? If not, do you have any suggestions on how I could have closed that deal?

I’m not a big fan of chupacabra feet. They’re just one more thing to dust. As for closing the deal, or closing any deal, see my answer to #5. Are you messing with me or what?

7. You have been a big help to me in getting a little more readership going on my blog. Do you regret that?

No. I am always happy to help a fellow blogger out in any way that I can. I was a newbie once myself and in many ways, still am. I’m honored that anyone would even ask me for advice. And who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll hit the big time and get arrested and hauled off to prison for violating some obscure FTC regulation on your blog, and then when you’re interviewed on E! News about how Lindsay Lohan and you are lobbying the prison system for chartreuse jumpsuits, you can wave at the camera and mention my name and explain how I helped you get to where you are and then I can yell WHO’S YOUR DADDY at my family because they never believe me when I brag about knowing semi-famous people.

(This made me pee just a little, it was so funny.  So I went to the bathroom and finished going.  And then out of curiosity, I looked in the toilet, but it was just plain yellow pee.  And now I'm just a little bitter.)


8. Do you regret ever even answering that first email I sent you?

See #7.

9. So I know you have lost a whole bunch of weight. I’m totally jealous. Since I am having trouble getting my 10 pounds off, do you think I should just wire my mouth shut? (Keep in mind, this will not keep my fingers from typing.)

Wiring my mouth shut did not keep me from mainlining Extra Creamy Cool Whip.

(And this one - I don't know that I'll ever be able to stop laughing!  Or look at Extra Creamy Cool Whip the same way ever again!)

10. Any advice on how to get more people to click the like button on my blog? Aside from writing better material?

Make it say CLICK HERE IF YOU DON’T GET JUSTIN BEIBER.

(YOU.  Are a genius. . .)

11. Gee, I have noticed that all these questions are really all about me. Does that kind of piss you off?

Well, I wasn’t going to say anything until you brought it up. But now that you mention it, yes.

(Oopsie.)

12. When did you realize you were a hit with your blog?

Wait, what? Why am I always the last to know anything?

13. Have you ever been approached about writing a book?

Hahahahahahahahahaha. No.

14. If the answer to that was yes, would you write a real life book, or a fiction book?

I’d write a cross between the two. It would be a fic-fac book about how cyber sex allowed me to sleep my way to the top of blog world and how The Pioneer Woman is now creating a nuisance of herself by constantly texting me for photography and cooking tips and for the last time, Ree, I have no idea if scallions or shallots would be better in your potatoes, OK? Get over yourself and keep your calf nuts to yourself. And I’d include the bit about Dooce being all up in my business about guest appearing on my HGTV series and I have to constantly remind her that hello? There’s only so much room on set and between her chin and my ego, where are the rest of us supposed to sit? And this all takes time away from my booty calls with Detective Eliot Stabler and my fittings with Tim Gunn and there are just not enough hours in the day, people. I NEED TIME TO BREATHE IN THE ECSTASY OF BEING ME. Now I just have to figure out what to write for the fiction part.

15. Would you send me a free copy of the book?

Only if you paid me.

(Awesome.  I knew you'd send it to me for free.  How much?)

16. How long have you been blogging for anyway?

If you ask me, I’d say three years. If you ask anyone else, they’d say OH MY GOD, ISN’T THERE AN ALPACA FARM SOMEWHERE WITH HER NAME ON IT?

(Are Alpaca's related to Chupacabra's?)

17. I am having a hard time coming up with more questions. Would you like to make one up yourself and answer it?

Question: Can I read? Answer: Judging by my answer to #14, which I was only supposed to provide if my answer to #13 was “yes” … no.

18. Besides your own, what is your most favorite blog to read?

This will sound like a cop out but really, there are too many to list. For every Dooce, Pioneer Woman and Bloggess, there are thousands of bloggers who are equally as talented but who haven’t been “discovered” yet. My Google Reader runneth over.

19. What is your favorite blog post you ever wrote? Please include the link so we can all read it.

My favorite is always the one that I haven’t written yet. I’m an eternal optimist. But if I had to pick one I’ve written, I’d probably pick the one about Traci, my best friend. It’s one of my older ones and it’s a classic example of how my brain and fingers suffer from incontinence. I had lunch with Traci the other day and while our lives have certainly changed, our thirty-five year friendship remains the same, except we don’t carve genitalia out of hot dogs anymore. And now I’ve managed to insert the word “genitalia” in this interview two three times now. Now you can SEO the shit out of this interview! You’re welcome. http://thecreativejunkie.com/2008/07/09/every-painfully-shy-girl-needs-a-traci-in-her-life/

20. I am thinking hard because I didn’t want to end it on question 19. Ummmmm. OK. Got it. The last question is: Are there any toys as a kid you didn’t get that you are still bitter about? I never got an Easy Bake Oven. (sighing wistfully)

I never had an Easy Bake Oven either! Which is probably why I never learned how to cook Greek food which begs the question, how many light bulbs does it take to cook baklava? I did, however, have a Crissy doll. Which reminds me … why would you give your daughter with thin, fine, wispy hair a doll that grows the thickest, shiniest, most luxurious hair in the history of ever? That is seven different kinds of WTF, Mom.

Thanks so much again to Andrea, The Creative Junkie.  Didn't I tell you she was awesome?  I know she is super busy, and the fact that she took the time out of her crazy days to answer a bunch of ridiculous questions that were, for the most part, not about her, was really awesome.  Now go look at her blog!

Happy day folks!

Learn How to Spell - I Wonder If His Wife Bled Out Before Help Got There

I promise I will post my interview with the Creative Junkie tomorrow. But this is just too funny not to share.  And I must admit.  I actually feel a bit sorry for the guy.  If the situation were reversed, I'm not sure I'd even have the guts to make the phone call in the first place. I also can't help but wonder if warthogs even still exist. . .

FINALLY - I Couldn't Find Anyone To Bail Me Out After I Pinched Anderson Cooper's Ass

Jeez people!  I've been in jail since Saturday night!  What did you think happened?  Did you think I ran away with him?

OK.  So I wasn't really in jail.  And I didn't really pinch Anderson Cooper's ass.  But what a story that could have been.

I must ask you all to forgive me in advance because I have a lot of crap to talk about and it's all over the place so you might need to take your ADD medicine to follow all this.  Or maybe give it to me.  That might be your better option actually.  Because then my next post might make more sense.  It's just a suggestion.  If I start getting prescription drugs in the mail, I'm going to assume it's ADD meds.  So please don't send me viagra or anything.

And here we go.

Anderson Cooper

As you may know, my husband got tickets to this really swanky deal called the Richmond Forum.  They have all kinds of guest speakers each season.  They serve a super yummy dinner at the Omni downtown (mostly it's super yummy because I didn't have to make it), and the guest speaker says a little somethin' somethin' to whet our appetites for more so that we all stick around after the free dinner to go and listen to them talk.  The actual talk is held at the Mosque (I refuse to call it anything else), and then it's back to the Omni for dessert and coffee.  Keep in mind that all of this is open bar.  Nice, right?

So on Saturday, I got all gussied up to go with my sweetie, and down we went to the Omni.  I, unfortunately, had to be on my best behavior, because Jamey was entertaining clients.  May I just say, do you know how incredibly hard it is not to snort when I laugh?  I had to use my polite laugh.  Boooooring.  I was a bit worried when we first got there, because when we made our way upstairs to the reception, I made a beeline to the wine table and got a glass of merlot. (I was totally disappointed they did not have a Cabernet, but, oops. . .I digress.)  So I turn around and the two other females in our party each had a glass of. . .ginger ale.  I thought I had made a major snafu and that this group didn't drink at all.  To my relief, one of the males in our party had a beer.  Whew.  I thought I was going to have to gulp several glasses in a covert-style operation.

Anyway, we went in and were getting to our table when, I SAW HIM.  And I must say, although still handsome, Anderson Cooper wasn't as big and buff as I'd imagined he'd be.  He was shorter than I thought.  Then I said to the other ladies that I thought he looked a little pale.  He needed some color.  I thought about going up to him and suggesting that, but some other schmuck had brought some painting down and was showing it to A.C.  So I thought I'd better not because I didn't want to seem as idiotic as the painting guy (who then after showing it to him looked totally disappointed as he put it back in his garbage bag and carried it around with him the rest of the night.  I wondered if he was trying to sell it.  Then I wondered if I should have brought some of my mom's paintings to offer to A.C.  Maybe he would have liked them better.)

We ate dinner, and then they had pre-dessert, dessert.  Cheesecake.  The most fabulous cheesecake I may have ever eaten.  And dammit, the two ladies with me wouldn't finish theirs.  I wanted to not only finish mine, I also wanted to lick the plate clean.  SO UNFAIR.  I think I might have cried a little bit when we left the table.  Anyway, then we went downstairs to catch the rides to the Mosque for the actual talk with A.C.  Now this is my one complaint about how they do this whole Forum thing.  They take us there in - busses.  Chartered busses.  I think it would be much classier to go in limousines.  I'm just sayin'.  Because let's be clear here - we are all dressed up.  We look nice.  We are WITHOUT CHILDREN.  I know it's hundreds of people.  But a bus?  Really?  So it would be super expensive.  SUCK IT UP RICHMOND FORUM.  But don't charge any more for tickets than you already do.  K?

Sigh.  So we get to the forum and A.C. talks, yada yada yada.  It was really good.  And we did have really super great seats.  I could have thrown my bra at him if I'd wanted to.  But no one else did, and I'm not that bold, plus I'd only had the one glass of wine.  I was also afraid if I threw something up on stage, he'd have flashbacks of his recent trip to Egypt, and then he'd flip out and run away, and then everyone would boo and throw stuff at me instead.  So I sat with my hands tucked under my legs to resist the urge.  And we listened.  He finished and we clapped and all that stuff.  Then we were carted back on those lousy busses.  But then when we returned, we got to meet A.C.!  There's a line and the ropes going around, and someone meets you right before you see Anderson.  Then you get up there and someone takes a picture of you together with him.  I swear, it's just like a grown up version of standing in line waiting to see Santa Claus. 

So Jamey and I are waiting and his clients have nixed to attend this part.  And so now that I am free to act like myself, I look over at Jamey and say, "I want to ask him something."  Jamey says, "What?"  And I say, "I want to ask him to put Yvette and me on his show as guest talk-show hostesses.  Cos we'd be great at that."  And Jamey shocks me when he says, "You should."  I say, "Excuse me?" because I figure that I didn't hear him right.  I briefly consider suing the Richmond Forum for making me go deaf when everyone was clapping for A.C.  But then he says it again, "You should."  Coooooooooool husband.

We get up to him, and I do, in fact, ask him if Yvette and I can be guest hostesses on his show.  And he laughs and says, "Yes, absolutely."  Jamey even tells him it would be a hit and that Yvette and I would be naturals at it.  I'm all like "Go Jamey!"  And I'm still all excited as we get autographs and pictures.  And then we are carted away after that so the next people can tell Anderson what they want for Christmas.  I mean, talk with him and get his autograph.  But then I realize that Anderson did not get my contact information.  I just assume that his researchers are tracking us down right about now.  I mean they are all into news and finding out about people and stuff, right?  But I thought they'd be better than this because it's Wednesday, and I haven't heard from his peeps yet.  Weird.

3:33pm: PS - I wanted to ask him the Bloggess's question about how he would be handling the upcoming zombie apocolypse. But seriously?  I hardly had time to ask about guest hostessing with Yvette.  We were herded like cattle.  But I totally would have asked had I had more than 30 seconds with him.  Questions about chatting with him and my BFF had to come first, my readers.  I am sure you understand.

Shopping

Again, as you all may or may not know, I frequent the city of Richmond and its surrounding counties with what I call BC outfits, otherwise known as Birth Control outfits.  It's one of the main reasons why we do not have any more children than the one we have.  Because frankly, my husband takes one look at me in my jeans that have seen better days, my sweater from the late 80's or early 90's, my mock turtleneck, and my Doc Martin brown shoes, and any sexual urges he may have had are obliterated in about a nano-second.

Or, if I am not in that uniform, I am wearing sweaty yoga pants, a grungy workout shirt with stained arm-pits, a sweat-shirt that a small elephant could fit into and have my sweaty/greasy hair pulled back in the smallest pony-tail ever with pieces falling out haphazardly everywhere. 

Not a pretty picture, right?

So he told me on Sunday to go shopping.  Nicely, but I'm sure inside he was probably saying, "Please go get some new clothes before I have to tear my eyes out of my own head."  So I went.  And I was all excited.  And I felt like I was being taped for What Not To Wear.  Because I couldn't decide on anything.  And I left the first day with. . .get ready. . .a handbag.  A super nice handbag.  A grownup leather handbag, just like I've always wanted.  But still.  A handbag.

I came home feeling gross and defeated.  So I tried to enlist the help of my girlfriends for the next day, but none of them could help me.  So I did the next best thing.  My friend Mackenzie is super fashionable.  So I emailed her pictures of everything I tried on.  Even down to shoes, because that's how little I know about fashion.  And she'd yay or nay to them.  It was like virtual shopping with her.  And it was fun.  Until she couldn't get back to me.  And I made a decision about an orange tweed v-neck sweater.  I bought it.  And right after I left the store and was on my way home, she texted me and said "Absolutely not."  I should have known, because I thought it was really cute.

So I need fashionable peeps, an entourage, really, to take me shopping.  I will now live by the mantra - "Stylish friends don't let completely unstylish friends shop alone."  I still have some stuff to buy.  But until someone can go with me, I am forced to continue wearing my grubby black yoga pants.  With my brown Doc Martins.  (I know.  See?  Fashion-challenged.)

Birthday

Today is my husband's birthday.  Joshua and I went out yesterday to buy him his birthday present.  That was a mistake.  Joshua proceeded to basically tell Jamey what we got him.  (Parenting tip - Never trust a four year old to understand the full concept of a secret.)  So Jamey played surprised this morning when he opened his gift which was some little guitar tuner thingie that cost really a ton considering the box was smaller than a matchbox car.

I am surprising him with attempting to make an ice cream cake for tonight though.  You might be saying, "Well, now you've done it.  He's going to know because he's going to read your blog today."  Nah.  No worries.  He's busy.  So I hope he likes it.  I may take a picture of it and post it tomorrow.

Creative Junkie Interview

And finally!  I have interviewed another of my most favorite bloggers, the Creative Junkie!  She's awesome, and I plan on publishing the interview either tomorrow or Friday.  Just need to get a few tweaks to my verbiage before and after the interview down.  And she's got to approve it.  But see?  You have something to look forward to.

I apologize again for taking so long to get this post out.  It's been crrrrrazy.  Plus, I haven't wanted to tie up the computer in case A.C. was trying to instant message me.  When is he going to get in touch with me?

Happy day folks!

Let's Go Wyatt! (Also - Cancer SUCKS!)

OK, so here's the deal.

I've been doing a lot more funny posts recently.  I have really been enjoying doing them.  And I will continue to do quite a few funny posts.  However, there are some days where you really have to stop and take a minute and be serious.  I am sure that a bunch of my friends are laughing and waiting for the punchline.  But I'm totally serious here.

A year ago today, my friends, Justin and Mackenzie, got some news that would rock their world.  Their youngest son, their baby, Wyatt, was diagnosed with leukemia.  I will never forget when I found out.  I was totally shocked.  Wyatt had just been to my house the Sunday before his diagnosis with his brother, Jackson, and his sister, Ava.  The scary part?  He was fine.  Totally fine.  He looked, acted, and seemed to feel perfectly normal. 

Then just a few days later, his whole world became one big jerky disease called cancer. 

I know.  It's totally scary right?  Particularly if you are a parent.  I remember hugging Joshua quite hard in the days after Wyatt's diagnosis.  And praying two prayers.  One for Wyatt to get better, and fast.  And one totally selfish prayer to please, please, please not let my little boy fall to the same fate.   I felt/feel totally guilty praying that prayer.  But I am sure if the situation were reversed, and Mackenzie found herself telling her children that Joshua had the big "C" word, she'd be saying that same little prayer for her babies too.

Wyatt has spent the past year being poked, prodded, filled with drugs that could probably melt metal if you left it on there long enough, and getting a portacath etc etc.  And through it all, every time I have seen him, and every picture of him I see on Facebook, he's smiling through the whole thing.  His little face has been swollen with all the steroids, and yet he's still smiling.  He has gotten stuck with needle after needle after needle, and he's still smiling.  I get a hangnail, and I'm complaining bitterly about how much it hurts and looking for sympathy for weeks because of it. 

The kid is amazing.

So I am pleased to say that he's made it through the first year.  God is definitely looking out for him.  He's still got a ways to go.  But I wanted to talk about him today because he deserves as much praise and applause and cheers as possible for getting through this first year.  Let's Go Wyatt!

Happy day everyone!

PS - If you would like to make a donation to help make a dent in Wyatt's medical costs, please go here:  Let's Go Wyatt!  You can also "like" his Facebook page and keep up there as well.  Prayers and good thoughts are also always accepted.

An Interview With - The Bloggess!

As promised, I have started interviewing people. And what better way to start this off but by interviewing one of my most favorite bloggers! Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you now, my interview with. . .

The Bloggess!

(I'm waiting for the applause and oohs and ahs to die down before I continue.)

(It would have been nice for you all to clap and ooh and ah, you know. . .)

So you all know that I love The Bloggess. And when I started thinking about doing my own form of a written talk show, since I don't have one of my own with my BFF, Yvette, I thought she would be perfect for my first official interview. I wrote her an email and below you will find all the questions I asked her, regardless of whether or not she answered them. If she didn't answer them, you will find my fantasy answer in red. Because let's face it, made up answers are more fun than blanks.

I really give her lots of thanks for doing this because she has a real job, with deadlines and everything. And plus she admits on her own blog that she hardly ever keeps up with her emails, so the fact that she read mine and took time out of her schedule to answer some of my questions was just awesome.

Now. Let's get on with the interview, shall we?

*******

Welcome Bloggess!

My questions for you are as follows (and remember, if it's in red, then I made up the answer and it is in no way credited to The Bloggess)

1. I know, that you know, that you are the coolest blogger ever. And lots of other people know it too. But that would you say to all those poor schmucks out there who don't know it yet?

I'd say that they are our last hope for humanity.

2. You gave me some very valuable advice regarding endorsement deals. As you may remember, I was this close to closing my first endorsement deal, but alas it fell through. I got to wondering. Since you get paid in chupacabra feet yourself, and since they are so rare, what do you think your estimated net worth is?

In chupacabra feet? I'd say at least 10. It's kind of fluid though.

3. And speaking of chupacabra feet, where do you keep all those suckers? Do they smell bad?

As a matter of fact, they do smell. Really badly. So I have a special freezer that I keep them in. And since they are so valuable and everything, I keep it booby trapped. That's not really true, but I like typing the word booby, because it's funny.

4. Do you have any advice for me regarding my dog? He keeps thinking he's a landscape architect and is constantly pruning bushes. Actually, that's not quite right. He rips out entire azaleas by the roots and leaves them at the front door for us to see. He also likes to play keep away, and that is very frustrating.

I'm probably not the best person to give you dog advice since my last dog-related post was about having to dig up my dead dog so the vultures would stop eating him. I'm pretty sure this makes me very unqualified to even look at dogs.

5. Come to think of it, it's very catlike behavior that my dog is exhibiting. Do you think there's something wrong with him?

I am pretty sure that if your dog is bringing up azaleas and lumber like they are dead animals that there is something wrong with him. I'd say shoot him, but he's not a horse, so I'm afraid you are just stuck with him.

6. Do you have any advice for a novice blogger, like myself, that will help me increase my readership?

Find like-minded sites and comment. Join a community. Write for yourself though because blog popularity is fleeting, flukey and almost completely based on chance.

7. I know you have rheumatoid arthritis, and that absolutely sucks. If you could confront your arthritis as a real person, please describe what you would do/say to said person.

I'm not sure what I'd say but there would probably be a lot of stabbing.

8. Have you ever been accused of stalking anybody?

Not legally.

9. I am going to get to meet Anderson Cooper on February 19. If I somehow get to score an interview with him for my blog, what kinds of questions should I ask him? If he won't agree to an interview, any advice on how to retaliate?

Ask him if he's given any thought to how he'll cover the coming zombie apocalypse.

10. One of the things I was thinking of asking Anderson Cooper was if he could show me where he got hit in the head when he was in Egypt. You know. To prove that it really happened. Is that in poor taste?

I would absolutely ask him to show you where he was hit in the head. If it's not obvious where he was hit, maybe you can offer to give him some kind of scar there so he can show people that one in the future if anyone else asks him about it. That would be a nice thing to do.

11. Can you just say some random thoughts here to make this interview longer? I want a decent sized post. It doesn't have to make sense, because all your followers who read this will love it anyway. Thanks.

(This was the one I was disappointed she didn't answer. I thought it might look something like this:)


slkejroaiwjusvjaklewruweioedoofusjlwejroaifjlskfjlwekraoif;iodf;fjweoifjsweirdosweiojsdflkjwroaiflkjraowiefjovfnekjraandthenihadtohithimagainwoieuoaifnvjfoia;owieuraowenjkljfoweuraithinkyouaretheoddesstpersonwhohaseverinterviewedmesdoifuiweojualksdjfa;woierjuaoitjuaeirjawetiuaoieruedeargodihopethisgibberishwillsatisfyherneedtomakeherinterviewlongerbecausethisisjustridiculousajweoirjuaeowiujdsfjaieurewoiejwranddoyouknowhowharditistotypeandnotautomaticallytrytoputspacesbetweenyourwordsawoeiruaoweiuaoidfjakfrjierifyoudon'tbelievemethenyoutryit;aisufwoeiruawoierujapoeuraewporculateri'mouttahere.

12. If you were going to be a contestant for Miss USA, what would be your "thing"? You know, your platform, I think they call it. You know, like world peace, etc.

My greatest wish for the world is for all mean-spirited assholes to stop being so douchey.

13. I have a son who is 4 1/2. I understand your daughter is 6. Would you be interested in an arranged marriage between the two?

(Oh wait. I forgot about this question. Maybe I'm most disappointed that she didn't answer this one. But I am thinking maybe she's considering this one. Either that or she's taking out a restraining order against me and my son as we speak.)

Ummmmm, I'm not sure what to say here. . .

14. I am only posting this question because I didn't want to end the interview on question number thirteen. So I guess I am a little superstitious. Are you? If so, how?

Yes. I'm totally superstitious. Mostly, I'm superstitious about people sending me interviews through email. I don't want to answer them at all, but I'm afraid if I don't, the boogie man will come and get me at nighttime. And then I'd have to hurt him.

Oh wait. one more. . .

15. On your blog page in the "about me" section, you people aren't sexy if they use the word "frustrated". Why is that?

"Frustrated" is fine. "Fustrated" is grounds for strangulation.

*******

And thus ends my very first email interview with The Bloggess. Many thanks to her for taking the time to answer some of my questions. If you would like to be interviewed, please email me at carolynsfamilyblog@hotmail.com. You'll be receiving the same hard-hitting, incredibly intelligent journalistic questions just like I sent The Bloggess. Only they'll be different. Cool, huh?

Happy day, folks!

I Have an Idea Brewing. This Usually Means Trouble.

Sooooo, I haven't been online, because frankly, I haven't had inspiration hit me recently.  I've been waiting and waiting to come up with an idea, but nothing.

Then a series of events caused several thoughts to enter my head and swirl around.  And that is always dangerous.

The first thing that happened is that my husband called me yesterday to tell me that he had scored a couple of tickets to the Richmond Forum.  So on February 19th, I am going to get to go see. . . (drum roll)

Anderson Cooper!

In the flesh!  How exciting is that?

So that was event number one.

Event number two happened last night.  For some unknown reason to me (Looking for inspiration to write maybe?  No.  That's not right.), I got to looking back at some of my old blog posts.  (Oh, I know what it was.  It was boredom.  Because if I had better stuff to do, do you honestly think I'd be going back and reading stuff that I wrote myself?  No.  It's weird.)  And I came across the post from the day my BFF, Yvette, was leaving to go back home after her visit here in October.  And that was a really fun time.  We also did a kind of "interview" where I interviewed her and we pretended we had a talk show together, because we know that one day we will be discovered and get all famous and stuff. 

So I was reading that post and recalling our pseudo-interview and how fun it was and stuff.  And that's event number two.

And then the third event occurred.  I was reading one of my most favorite blogs The Bloggess.  And several things happened all at once and the events swirled together.  She had done a post a couple of weeks ago about two people who had contacted her to interview other people.  Like movie stars who like her blog.  And that post was so funny.  Let's see if I can find it.  Ah yes.  Here it is.  Read this:  And This is Exactly Why I Don't Trust PR People.  I loved this post. 

And when the events finished all swirling together I had it!  I thought it would be fun to interview people, say once a week on my blog!  (Or once a month.  Or if anyone ever wants to be interviewed.) Now you must note.  When I say I am going to interview you, my questions are going to be serious journalistic questions.  Thought provoking.  Hard hitting.  It's going to be FABULOUS.  So if you want to dare to be interviewed, let me know.  I'll formulate some questions, send them to you.  You answer them, send them back.  Then I'll write the rest of the post and send it back to you for approval before I post it to my blog.  Easy peasy.

I actually have sent out a series of questions to someone already.  I don't know whether or not they'll agree to the interview, but I hope they do.  I'll keep you posted on that front. . .

I'll also say that I'm interested in interviewing anybody, but I'm particularly interested in movie stars (because let's face it.  That would be a lot of fun).  Or other bloggers.  Or just regular people.  So let me know.

Happy day everybody!

I'm Really Quite Bitter About the Whole "Do Not Call" List Thing Because it's Ruining All My Fun

Wowee.  Yesterday's post was super exciting.  And thanks for helping me get to my all time record high month!  Sigh.  I was so close to negotiating my first endorsement deal.  But as you know, it didn't work out.  I got one last email I thought I'd share.  They were super-understanding, and it allowed me to respond back to let them know the door was always open.  Want to see what it said?  Here it is:

*******

If anything I can tell u one thing... You are a very funny and witty
blogger and u would do really well in anything that u write about. Just
keep building your subscriber base and keep your list engaged in what ur
talking about and u'll be fine.

Have a great day,

*******

Really nice, right? So I totally understand.  And in fact, they ought to be pretty happy because really, they got free advertising from me.  Notice I didn't block their website?  So all of you can find it, and maybe you can become sales reps for them.  And then to thank me, maybe they'd reopen negotiations.  What?  You don't think I'll get an endorsement deal from them?  Ever?  (Note to self:  Go block website after writing this blog post.)

Anyway, so I promised you yesterday that I'd share some really funny stories about how my family used to handle telemarketing calls.  For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, let me take you back. . .

See there used to be a time when people would call you on the phone to try and sell you stuff.  All kinds of things.  You'll see some examples in a few minutes.  Now they just email you or text you.  But anyway, these people could be very persistent.  Most people, when they would receive a telemarketing call, would simply hang up.  There were some though, who would listen intently to the sales pitch, and totally buy out the company of whatever it was they were selling, because, gee, wouldn't those make great Christmas gifts and all?  Right?  Still following?  And then the whole Do Not Call thing got enacted.  And we lost all those wonderful telemarketing calls.  I'm still a little bitter.  Because my family, although most of the time we would simply hang up on the telemarketers, sometimes, if we were feeling a little frisky and in particularly good moods, we would have a little fun.  See the three examples I give below:

Telemarketing Call #1 - Gardening Books

First of all, I totally know what you are thinking.  How in the world can somebody sell books over the phone?  I mean, don't you want to open books up and look at them, read a little before you decide to buy it?  Isn't that what all normal people do?  Oh no, wait.  Now they just go to Barnes and Nobles and sit with their in-store Starbucks coffee in one of those little comfy chairs and read the book there so they don't have to buy it.  Wait.  You don't do that?  It's just me?  (awkward silence)  OK then. . .

So one day the phone rang at our house and my mom answered it.  And I could tell immediately it was a telemarketer just by the way my mom said, "Yes?"  It was all kind of high-pitched and she was practically trembling with false excitement!  The telemarketer then told her that they were selling some gardening books.  I am not sure if this is exactly right (So mom if it's not, please don't point it out, because I don't remember the exact story or verbiage, but it was something like this, you must agree.), but I think it might have been a series of books and you got one a month or something and the person on the phone selling this wonderful series was super excited about these books.

Of course then, my mom has to either match the excitement, or be even more excited.  She chose the second option.  "You're KIDDING!  I was just saying the other day how I have always wanted some gardening books!  And now you're calling!  Isn't that just the funniest coinkydink?"  (I know she didn't say 'coinkydink', but let's face it.  This is my blog, and I like embellishing the truth sometimes.  Don't. Judge. Me.) 

Now the person selling is about ready to come through the phone and kiss my mother, because I am absolutely sure they thought they were getting ready to make their first sale. Ever.  So the person is all like, "Well Mrs. Y, I am so glad that we are going to be able to provide you with these wonderful books!  If I could just get your information. . ."  at which point my mother interrupts, "OH absolutely.  I just have one little question."

The telemarketer is still really excited and says, "Oh yes m'am!  What would you like to know?"  So my mom pauses a moment and then says, "Now, don't forget, I'm really excited about these books.  I mean, I was just talking about wanting to take up gardening, so these will be really super useful.  But just one thing.  What language do they come in?"

The telemarketer pauses a moment.  "Um.  Well they are written in English."

Mom - (very dramatic here, of course)  "OH no.  That's too bad."

Telemarketer (thrown off now, and is starting to sound a little desperate)  "Is that a problem?"

Mom - "Well yes.  See I don't read English.  I can only read in Swahili (or whatever language she said)."

Telemarketer - "Really?"

Mom - "Yes.  I only speak in English, and I only read in Swahili.  My third cousin was from there."

Telemarketer (now obviously super desperate) - "Well, um.  There are really pretty pictures in here that you could look at."

Mom - "Well it's just so expensive to buy gardening books written in Swahili, that I couldn't afford both.  You know.  Translation's a real bitch."  (OK she didn't say the translation part, but it would have been really funny if she had.)

Telemarketer (totally devastated at losing the sale, and a little perplexed still about the third cousin comment) - "Uh.  OK.  Well I'm sorry we couldn't help you."

Mom - "Me too.  Ciao Bella!"  (hangs up)

Telemarketer #2 - Aluminum Siding

This one was also fielded by my mother.  Everyone thinks my dad is the funniest in our family.  But obviously, he actually has some pretty stiff competition.  This one went like this:

Telemarketer makes initial contact.  Introduces the fact that he is selling some really nice aluminum siding, and that it would protect our home for years to come yada, yada, yada, right?  So then my mom says, "Wow.  That sounds like a really great product.  We have a brick house.  Is it hard to put aluminum siding over brick?" (We, in fact, did not have a brick home.)

Telemarketer - "Um.  You want to put aluminum siding over your brick home?"

Mom - "After you said how well it could protect it, it sounds like a must do thing to me, you know?"

Telemarketer - "Well.  I mean, I guess we could.  I'd have to check on that."

Mom - "Why?  Is it a problem?" (fake concern oozing from her voice)

Telemarketer - "It's just that. . .well, with most people. . .I mean, with most homes that are brick, it usually is not necessary for them to cover that with aluminum siding."

Mom (feigning great surprise and disappointment) - "Oh?  OH.  That's so too bad.  Well how about doghouses?"

Telemarketer - "Uh.  No.  No, I am pretty sure we don't do doghouses."

Mom - "Oh.  How about trees then?"

Telemarketer (perplexed) - "Excuse me?"

Mom (thinking he might be deaf) - "WHAT ABOUT TREES? I HAVE SOME TREES THAT I'D LIKE TO PROTECT FROM THE ELEMENTS.  LIKE RAIN."

Telemarketer -

Mom - "Hello?  Hello?  Is there anybody there?"

Telemarketer - (dial tone)

Telemarketer #3 - I have no idea what they were selling.  It never got that far.

By this time, our whole family enjoyed messing with the telemarketers.  We figured it gave them a good laugh even if they didn't get a sale.  And I am pretty sure that we had been added to a list for all telemarketing firms.  It was probably a much shorter list.  I think we were on the "If You Don't Call Anybody Else, Make Sure You Call These People" list.

This call was one that my whole family was in on.  Except maybe my sister.  I don't remember if she was there or not.  But you'll get the point of why we didn't ever find out what they were selling very quickly.

Telemarketer - "Hello.  May I speak to Mr. Y?" (Oh and this is how we always knew it was a telemarketer - they absolutely butchered pronouncing our last name.)

Mom - "OH.  Yes.  Right away.  Let me get him."  (Does all these fake hand signals to let us know it's a sales call, and she gives us a cue.  We all start talking all at once.  Loudly.)

Dad - "Hello?"  (speaking a little louder over the voices)

Telemarketer - "Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Y?"

Dad - "Oh.  You must want my father.  Hang on a moment and I'll get him."  Pause "DAD!  DAD!  TELEPHONE!"

Now we all shuffle around and continue talking and making farm animal sounds and increase the volume a little.  Dad gets back on the phone.

Dad - "HELLO?"

Telemarketer (who is a bit flustered now) - "YES.  HI. IS THIS MR. Y?"

Dad - "NO.  I THINK YOU MUST WANT TO SPEAK TO MY FATHER.  HOLD ON.  AND SPEAK UP BECAUSE HE'S HARD OF HEARING."

Telemarketer - "UH.  OK."

More shuffling and longer wait because, obviously, if it's my dad's, dad's, dad, he's certainly going to take longer to get to the phone, right?  And we talk even louder.  More chicken and cow sounds too.

Dad - "HELLO?"

Telemarketer (Sounding weary now) - "HI.  IS THIS MR. Y?"

Dad - "IT IS BUT I THINK YOU MIGHT WANT MY BROTHER.  HOLD ON."

More shuffling, talking, and now I think we are throwing in zoo animal sounds too.  And that's a shame, because you know what's going to happen next:

Dad - "HELLO?"

Telemarketer - (Dial tone)

*******

I hate to think they missed our zoo animal sounds.  My mom does a mean elephant.

Happy Day!