Would You Be Mine? Could You Be Mine? Won't You Be My Follower?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I opened my front door last night to let my dog out and one of these scurried past me. I'm not a screamer type of girl. I grew up with more than a few brothers and early on I learned not to be all girlie over snakes, bugs, spiders and all the creepy-crawlies of the planet. But, this hideous creature made me scream out for Jesus, Mary and Joseph. (Quite appropriate for Ash Wednesday.)

I live in the woods so I believe in respecting the creatures of the forest. They were here first. But, don't be coming to ring my doorbell, Mr. Scaly-Ass Ugly!

The first thought that flashed across my brain, after "Holy Shit!!!!", was, "Is this an omen of bad luck?" I mean, I know about black cats crossing your path, but what happens when an armadillo runs over your bare tootsies? It wedged a little worry into the back of my brain for the rest of the night, but a lovely, dream-filled sleep took it away.

Until this morning.

You see, I am a girl who believes in superstition. My children torture me mercilessly over my irrational beliefs. They're constantly putting hats on my beds, spilling salt and refusing to throw it over their shoulder, walking under ladders.

I can't explain it except to say that I believe in the order of the universe. I believe that everything in your path is predetermined, whether bad or good, and you must accept all of it with an open and willing heart.

But, let's not f*&#k with our destiny by stepping on a crack! I am not taking the fall for putting my momma in a wheelchair just because I was too lazy to step over the crack! I'm just sayin'.

So, I'd kind of forgotten about the armadillo, but when I woke up this morning, I went straight to my computer to check on all my new friends.

See, here's why I believe in the perfect timing of the universe. The other day I blogged about this guy, an agent that I plan on submitting to, in the very near future. I have followed his blog for a long time, just reading, never letting myself be known. I'm what you call in the blog world, his lurker. I'm there following his every word. He just doesn't know it.

The day after I blogged about him, he blogged about me.

Well, kind of.

He announced that it was de-lurking day and he invited all of us lurkers to come out of the closet. It was a bigger outing than Michael Musto could ever dream of, even on his best day. We all stepped forward into the light. I signed up to subscribe to his comments and within minutes my email box numbers were in the hundreds.

My new friends. Lurkers, no more, are we.

I loved their comments, hearing about their struggles, their worries, their efforts to get published. I am not alone on this journey and it filled my lonely writer heart with feel-good snaps.

After breezing through the many that had posted throughout the night. I went, as I do each morning, and checked my blog for any updates. I saw it immediately.

It made my heart leap and my blood run cold at the same time.

I have a new follower, number 13. Let me first say, I'm so thrilled to have my number thirteen. I love her even though I don't know her...yet. But, I've not been looking forward to this day that would eventually come.

Number 13.

I tried not to think about it. I tried not to let it undermine me. But, then we missed the garbage men this morning, my daughter called from school to tell me she'd lost her retainer, my engine light went on in my car, signaling she's not feeling well and I thought, "Uh-Oh."

I still tried to ignore it, but then I went to my much-adored dentist. I love my dentist. He has taken the utter panic out of the smell of antiseptic and the sound of drill hitting bone for me. I grew up in an age when dentistry was still practically a medieval form of torture and oh, how my childhood dentist loved his torture.

I was afraid for many years until I found my dentist. His office smells like French Vanilla and he has never, ever hurt me.

I take great care of my teeth. I use a Sonicare and I floss every day. Really. I'm not making that up like everyone else does when their dentist asks them. I keep floss in my car. I'm a floss addict.

But even with all that, my teeth just don't like me. Without giving up the gory details, I've had a lot of work done. So, today at my 6-month checkup, my dentist says, "This is going to be a great checkup. I just know it because you've done your time."

And then the x-rays came back.
A tooth has to come out. This means extractions, bone grafts, implants, a year's worth of work and a lot of blood and sedation.

He said, "I can't believe this. This just came out of nowhere."

And I said, "Believe it, an armadillo ran over my toes last night and I've got my thirteenth blogger this morning."

He didn't even bat an eye. He knows me.

So, here's where I need some help. I have so many of you who tell me you follow my blog as you point at my kids and laugh. My kids so love that. So, I was wondering if you could maybe come out, quit lurking, and sign up to be a follower. Please.

It's pretty easy. To the right, where it says "Follow" just click that window and another window will pop up. You need to give some basic info, like your name. It doesn't even have to be your name, if you want to keep me guessing. And you can add a picture if you like. It doesn't even have to be your picture. If you notice, one of my followers is Bono. I don't really think it's him, but if it is - Bono, Call Me! I'm pretty sure it's My Hubby pretending to be Bono. How sweet is that! You don't even have to add a picture. If you're having a bad hair day, just leave it blank. The only other thing required as a follower is you have to subscribe to Google. Google does nothing with this. They're just weeding out the mean, most hated folks on the planet, the spammers. That's it. It's pretty easy.

Oh, also the more followers you have, the more street cred you get, when you submit to agents and brag that you have a blog. In these morose publishing times, every little bit helps.

So, please be brave. If I can do it, you can do it, too. I won't do anything but just enjoy your picture and be forever grateful that you took me out of the terrible curse of 13. I won't call you for a Tupperware party or even ask you to be my friend on Facebook. But, you can friend request me. I love friends.

My mouth and the rest of my cursed world will be forever grateful.

Today's Listen Up Download: "Human" by The Killers. Because, I'm only human, flawed with the need to be loved and patronized in my irrationality. But mainly, because of this line, "Are we human? Or are we Dancers?" I love that line. I wish I'd written it.

Rock out today with some Killers and then please, Follow Me Into The Madness.

NEWSFLASH! Whoo-Hooo! The curse has been lifted! Thank you 14th follower! But, that doesn't mean I'm going to forget about the rest of you. I figure I've already begged publicly. All dignity's been stripped anyway, so I'm still asking to give me your love and follow, follow, follow.




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♥BONO AND ME-COMPLIMENTS OF MARY AND FACE IN THE HOLE♥

♥BONO AND ME-COMPLIMENTS OF MARY AND FACE IN THE HOLE♥
I'm right here Bono, if you're looking for a blonde, 40 something chick to pull up on stage for that dance. I am ALWAYS available for that sort of thing.

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