Confessions of A Dot Mom Mogul

Since I’m feeling the need to expound loquaciously (yeah go look that one up) today, I’ve decided to share with you my true confessions.  Before you ask, I know the microphone is on (shame Jesse Jackson didn’t seem to know that) and some of this could be pretty scary.

Butts Are Us

I’m a smoker. Not a reformed smoker. Not a quitter. I smoke cigarettes. Fags, coffin nails, what ever you choose to call em. I smoke em. Now, I won’t tell you I haven’t tried to quit. In fact, back in 1996 I was a quitter. I had put them down, successfully, and was well on my way to being a healthy person. What happened with this new leaf I’d turned over ? Can’t tell you anything, but I got stupid again. I was working on my thesis, some academic blather, an exposition on the morality of the medical industry in our times. Well, looking out the window from the third floor of the library carrel where I was working, I spotted some undergrads standing around, chatting and lighting up a cig. I could taste it from three floors up, through brick and glass. The urge was incredible. Now, mind you, I had been a quitter for well over 3 years by this time. But, I immediately packed up my bag, raced down the stairwell, outside and begged for one of them to let me “bum” one. Healthy living gone to hell in a hatbox 101.

Now, I’ve tried to quit again since. Tried the patch, the gum, the pills. Nothing has helped. Smoking is my pacifier. Its my Valium. I continue to try. There are days when I can go all day without one. And then ehubby comes through the door and BAM. Like someone threw a bucket of water on me, I have, I mean HAVE to have a smoke.  I need to try harder. I don’t want to live forever, but I do want to live healthier while I’m here. There I said it.

Hey Now You’re A Rock Star, Get The Show On

I have a list in my sidebar called Hot Wire©. That’s the list of blogs that I read with great regularity. (Yes, I am regular, no Activia needed here) I have with some remorse read Dooce©, Pioneer Woman, Motherhood Uncensored, John Chow and several other “Rock star” blogs. When I do peruse these “wonders” of the blogosphere,  I generally read them as though I were a graduate of the “Evelyn Woods” Speed Reading School. There is nothing, I said NOTHING more annoying to me than a good blogger, gone bad. When introspection turns to narcissism. And verbosity turns to redundancy. How many times can you bitch about the weather in lower Mississippi and pregnancy? How many times do we need to know you’ve suffered postpartum depression and/or chronic depression and need Zoloft, Prozac and a therapist to deal with the effects. At least respond to one or two of the gazillion comments you receive from all your wannabes. Let the blogosphere know you are human and not some posting bot. I feel for ya, I really do. But geez, you must have a life….find something else to bitch, nosh or give us a protracted verbal vision of !

On The Other Hand

While there are many of the blogs in my list that I thoroughly revel in. There are a few, that I find myself drawn to. In no particular order, I suggest a stop by these, I think you’ll find that they are each Magically Delicious in their own way.

Drama Pond’s Drama Mamma is pondering the meaning of existence and blogging. (Such a good GRIT (girl raised in the south)), She’s one of the charter members of the Kudzu Queens. You can read more about them here on this blog.

Laurie at Foolery claims to be a dullard. She’s anything but! Check out her Blog•Hus shoes. She’s stylin!

Barking Mad is the blog home of Auds, clearly the most transparent, candid bloggers I’ve met. She’ll make you laugh til you cry, or cry til you laugh. I’ve almost peed my pants reading her blog several times. She’s an American married to a Brit and her humor is raucous. Just imagine a husband who thinks the four food groups are composed enitrely of chocolate !

Then of course there’s Mommie Pie who’s wit and humor is without compare. One part Sex and The City, one part Donna Reed, she adds charisma and grace to my otherwise uneventful days. She’s our hostess with the mostest for  Blogernot 2008. Drop by and find out what all the fuss is about!

Life Is Just A Bowl Of Cherries. Don’t Take It Serious; It’s Too Mysterious.

This is my obligitory post on that conference which shall remain nameless. You all know  which one I’m talking about. I’m not speaking at that conference either. I haven’t bought new shoes, new clothes or an airline ticket. Heck, I didn’t even buy a new laptop. Megan did. (That girl’s gone blond on me and I had such high hopes for this GRIT*)  I haven’t had my hair cut, colored or permed, my nails done or my toes french manicured. No Brazilian wax for me this month and certainly, no visits to the tanning bed. I haven’t received a swag bag, a goody bag or a trash bag. And heaven knows, I have no life, so a Second Life experience of the nameless conference is just not in the stars. We won’t even talk about my missing imagination and lack of patience with techy stuff.

I’m not a big shot writer for the nameless site, I’m not a rock star mommy blogger, I haven’t been on morning TV, Oprah, or the evening news. My book remains unfinished, unloved, and unread. (hence unpublished) My blog and my life remain undetected by Redbook, Cosmo and More Magazine.

I guess Dr. Phil would say I have deep psychological issues. I say,  like the song writer Lew Brown,

People are queer, they’re always crowing, scrambling and rushing about;

Why don’t they stop someday, address themselves this way?

Why are we here? Where are we going? It’s time that we found out.

We’re not here to stay; we’re on a short holiday.

Sense of humor intact. Bladder protection pads ready, I’m adding street cred to my resume. Meet me at Bloghernot 2008.

We’ve Got A Lot Of What It Takes To Get Along!

Now take a good look at my photodouble.

Now THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about!

Editors Note* GRIT=Girl Raised In The South. This article has been fueled by vast amounts of coffee and in every way reflects the views of its owner. No animals or bloggers were harmed in the writing of this article. Please enjoy in the spirit in which it has been written.  Peace Out.