Blog Archives

I’m Number One!

Sometimes, the toilet paper can be over and under at the same time. I'm just sayin'." photo credit: joanna8555 via photopin cc

So, J-Wo tagged me in one of those answer-these-ridiculous-questions posts, and I am slightly miffed.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love the attention.  And I love, love, that he gave me a pass on following the rules for this particular game of Tag.  And I love, love, love even more that my name was #1 on his list of Tag-alongs.  But there is one thing missing from this whole scene.  An award to add to my Award Shelf!  What’s the deal?  Now we’re giving each other assignments that have no accompanying awards?!!!  I doth protest!

However, I love J-Wo (so much that I’ve linked to him twice in this post!).  And I think he’s responsible for any Stumble Upon spike in hits I have ever received.  And, he made me #1.  So, just this once, I am going to participate with no reward.  This shall be my Random Act of Kindness for the Year.  But, of course, I am putting my own spin on things.

There are 10 questions.  I’m only answering 5.  And, because I don’t want you just skimming through my post and yawning, this is going to be a little interactive.  I’m not going to tell you which answers go with which questions.  You get to pick.  (See how I made that sound like a privilege?  That’s the teacher in me.  Works with my 7 year olds.  The 11 year olds – not so much.  You can pick the age group with which you most identify.  See, I did it again. )

Thanks to the Pittle Leeple

Previously, on whatimeant2say, I began my Awards Acceptance Speech, but was abruptly stopped by an orchestrated disturbance claiming I had gone over my time limit.  I was able to hijack another star’s allotted spot (Oprah has enough awards anyway) in order to finish up.

 “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted – well, I don’t know what I was saying.  But here is what I will say.

I will say that I am here to stay.”

Uh, did I mention that I downed a few “refreshments” in the interim before I was able to reappear at the podium?

“Yes, I am here to thank all of the pittle leeple.  My blog is a suck fest due to you.  No, that’s not whatimeant2say.  It’s a fu- nope, that’s not it, either.  Never mind.  Moving on.  I have to thank you, first, for my Biggest Liar award.

The Best Liar Award is Now Rightfully Mine!

Because I fooled you all!  No one figured out that the true statements were 1, 3, and 6. That’s probably because I made a little error with #1.  I was in “Scrooge – the Musical” in high school, not “Scrooged.”  Sorry about that “d” I added.  It’s been 25 years since I was in high school, so I think that minor mistake should be forgiven.  I know – I don’t look that old.  I am very well-perturbed.

Anyhoo, those of you who thought #2 was true must not know me at all.  I am just completely insulted that you thought I would ever do that even one time.  I don’t remember what “that” was, but I can assure you I am too much of a lady to do it.

Now, I should move on because I don’t want any silly little man in a tuxedo using his stick to shut me up again.

I have one more award that I am thankful for.  Rumpy Boad to Rubba has awarded me – no, wait a second, it’s Bubba Rumpy Boad.  Hang on…

Oh yes.  Bumpy Road to Bubba.  Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers.  Can you say that 10 times fast?  Bubber Raby Buggy Humpers.  Bubba Baby Bubby Thumpers.  Huh?  Oh, yeah.  So they gave me a HUG.  Award, I mean.  Not a hug.  Don’t you worry, Cap’n Firepants.  You’re the only one I hug.  I know you don’t think I do it often enough.  But – crap.  There’s that friggin’ music again!  Fine.  Just give me my trophy and I will be gone.  Fine.  Yes, I know there’s no trophy.  Fine.  I am leaving.  Fine.  Yes, I know I’m still on stage.  I just thought I could squeeze over here an eensy little bit so I could, uh, help out Brad Pitt if he needs any help with his lines on the next present station.  Fine.  Fine, I said!!!!  I’m leaving!”

The worst part?  Vera Wang made me give back the dress.  That’s okay.  It’s hard to put a dress on an Award Shelf, anyway.



I Hope You’ll Visit Me in Prison

Last weekend, Dimples won first place in one of her synchronized swimming competitions.  As she grinned from ear to ear while accepting her blue ribbon, I couldn’t help feeling proud – and jealous.  It’s hard to be an adult sometimes, when the opportunities to win awards are few and far between.  As I’ve reminded everyone several times,  I am addicted to accolades.

This is why I blog.  The blogging community has all sorts of honors to bestow, and it seems like there are new ones being invented all of the time.  My goal is to collect every single one of them on my Awards Shelf.

To that end, I have a couple of new awards to announce; the “Crack Up” and the “One Lovely Blog” have been recently conferred upon me.

The “Crack Up” was generously passed on by an opinionated mommy named KP.

The Hobbler tapped me for the “One Lovely Blog Award.”

Thank you, Ladies, for helping me to feel validated and less envious of my nine year old daughter.

As veteran bloggers know, these notches on our bedposts do not come without a price.  Every single one of these fabulous prizes have rules.  No one has told me what happens if you break the rules, but we might find out in the next couple of days because I am feeling a bit rebellious and a lot lazy.

I have already thanked my benefactors, so that requirement has been fulfilled.  But, I can’t remember what the other expectations are – and I am feeling slightly passive aggressive – so I am just going to make them up.  If you want to know what the actual rules are, please click on the links for the wonderful blogs listed above.  Even if you don’t want to know the actual rules, I highly recommend you visit them anyway.

Since I know that I like to be recognized, I feel it’s only fair to recognize some other people.  But I know it’s overwhelming to the readers to suddenly be accosted with a bunch of links.  Therefore, I am going to limit my own awarding to one person for each award (this is where the Blog Police might come and take me away as I am blatantly defying the award criteria):

If you really want to “Crack Up”, I think you will not be disappointed by visiting “I’ve Become My Parents.”

And the “One Lovely Blog” I would like to recognize is “The Middlest Sister.”

There are tons of other blogs I love to read, and highly recommend, on my Blog Roll.  If I was not feeling so lethargic, I would invent an award for each and every one of them.  As it is, you should find it a true testament to their value that I even found the energy to create a blog roll for the sole purpose of honoring them.

I think I am supposed to tell you some things about myself, but I highly doubt you want to know anything at this point, since you are either cussing me out for not honoring you, or you don’t give a flip about these awards anyway.  I will tell you that I have a secret trick for getting out of handcuffs, so if you are planning to arrest me for breaking the blogging laws, you might want to reconsider your method of capture.

And, on that note, my acceptance speech is complete.

Open in Case of Emergency

Not to belabor the point, but I almost died the other day.

Just like Ross on Friends when he is “saved” by Joey from a gunshot that turns out to have been a car backfiring, I feel the need to reflect.

And I have realized that, if I had died, or been seriously injured, I would have been up, well, you know, that creek that everyone goes up when they are in trouble that is apparently the color of mud.

I have neglected to make some Arrangements.  And that could be disastrous.

If something happens to me, who will post my blog?!!!!

I made a commitment (I think it was just a mental one, but don’t quote me on that) that I would publish a post each day.  My fan base is growing exponentially (1 is an exponent, right?) and I can’t stand the thought of disappointing my readers.

Being a teacher, I realized that I need to prepare what is essential to every teacher’s toolbox – the Substitute Folder.

Just because I survived my unplanned trip across three lanes of highway – avoiding concrete barriers, dozens of other cars, and miraculously not flipping over – does not mean I will have the same good fortune next time.

So, someone else might have to pinch hit.  And I need to give this person the tools to do that.  Of course, I can’t give him/her the tools I would use myself – because I don’t want anyone else to realize that this Substitute is better than me.  So, I will give my surrogate what is known in the business as “Busy Work.”

Here is my plan:

First, I must designate a Substitute.  I have decided that my friend Emily will fit the bill nicely.  She is an experienced blogger AND she is not the type who will flaunt her fabulous writing skills in an attempt to hijack my magnificently successful blog.

Next, I must create a bunch of suggested topics that Emily can use as jumping off points for her short, slightly amusing, fill-ins while I am recovering from whatever tragedy has befallen me.  You know, mildly entertaining, informative posts about things like climate change and the benefits of exercise.

Third, I must fill Cap’n Firepants in on this plan so that he can begin its execution upon my injury/death/kidnapping by aliens, etc…  He will have to inform Emily and reveal to her my secret, superduper blogging passwords.

Fifth, I should probably ask Emily if she is willing to do this.

I guess that might need to be first.  Hey Em, uh, are you okay with this?

And last, if, indeed, the worst happens…

Well, if you guys like Emily better than me I’ll just have to figure out a way to hijack HER blog.

Wonderbutt has volunteered to step in if Emily declines.

Just Call Me Nostradumpyass

OK.  Don’t panic.  Do.  Not.  Panic.

Stop!  Why are you panicking?  Did I not just tell you DON’T PANIC?!!!!

Yeah.  I know. It didn’t work with me either.

I don’t know what you’re not panicking about.  But here is my most recent disaster.

I tried to put on my jeans yesterday, and they did not fit.


I kind of suspected that day was coming, but it was still a pretty tough blow when it happened.

So, I panicked.

But nobody knew it.  I inner-panicked.  That is my clever way of secretly panicking without anyone knowing.  It requires great will-power.  Almost as much will-power as not eating so much that one goes up a pants size.

No tantrums or tears.  No boxing up my entire closet to truck on over to Goodwill.

Just a very quiet panic while I looked for some more forgiving jeans that say they are the same size, but obviously can’t be because they fit fine.

Finding the forgiving jeans helped to reduce the major panic to a slightly less heart-attack inducing one.  Slightly.

I know why this happened.  When I first started this blog, I posted an article about my desire to be a writer.  The post was entitled, “I Might Get Fat.”

And I did.

Granted, I have not become a published awriter.  And I have not quit my job.  Two of the contributing factors to my then future fear of getting fat.  But, don’t you think the fact that I predicted something happening and it has now happened is more than just a mere coincidence?

Maybe, it is the fault of my Irritating Bogus Diagnosis that has absolutely no medical explanation but continues to make my life miserable, changing my once fairly consistent diet into some wild roller coaster ride of experimental foods as I continue my quest for something that won’t nauseate or constipate me.

Or, maybe it’s because whenever I feel like panicking, I internalize it, and I am now bloating up with all of those undigested panics.

Perhaps, it is a sympathy weight gain to show my love for my dear bulldog, Wonderbutt, who tips the scales at 65 pounds, about 250 pounds more than he is supposed to weigh, apparently.

Do these jeans make me look fat?

Who cares?  When a tsunami flattens your house and you are clinging to an indestructible, eco-friendly, buoyant dog toy for dear life, do you waste your time wondering why this happened?

I must come up with a Plan.

On the bright side, I don’t have to worry about quitting my job to be a writer making me fat since I already am.  Fat, I mean.  Not a writer.  Well, I am a writer.  Just not paid for it.

I shall ponder that while I eat my Hostess Ding Dong.  Hey, at least I’m not filing for bankruptcy.  Because that was totally unforeseeable during these health trendy times…



In this unprecedented, one time only offer, I am giving you the opportunity of a lifetime!  Although I pointed out yesterday that you must subscribe to my Premium On Demand Package in order to question or criticize me, I am going to make an exception this once.  I need your help in determining which post I should enter in a Humor Essay contest.  I’ve culled through my 173 posts so far, and come up with the sadly short list below of possibilities.  If any of them seem  humorous, could you please vote for it?  Also, I have given you the option to fill in your own comment.  You could use this to make your own post suggestion, or you could use it to question or criticize me.  I will take your comments under careful consideration.

Why, you may ask, would you want to fill in my silly form instead of just entering a comment below?  Well, because if you fill in the form, you will be rewarded with the name of the contest I am entering.  I think this is highly selfless of me, since you will probably want to then enter the contest yourself.  Or, you could just call it a bribe.

Here are direct links to the chosen few in case you would like to review them:

And With Also You

Let’s Go Fly a Kite

Just Don’t Bury MY Head in the Sand

Jingle Hell

Who Do You Think Pulls the Sleigh?

Advice on Interior Design

I Hope It’s Not Too Late

This Offer is Just For You!

I am thrilled to announce that WhatIMeant2Say is now available ON DEMAND!

That’s right, folks! You can now view any of my blog posts any time you want by going to my website and clicking on the link for the post you would like to read.

I KNOW! ISN’T THIS AMAZING? My blog is SO on the cutting edge TIGHT!

And, get this. With no price increase, you can also pause in your reading at any time, and come back later to the exact place you left off! No more racing through the post so you can answer the phone or go to the bathroom. Just read it at your leisure on your own schedule.

You don’t know how fortunate you are to have all of these perks in your subscription package. I don’t provide this On Demand Service to just anyone, you know.

For example, my daughter, Dimples, cannot have her favorite dinner, PB&J with a pickle on the side, On Demand.

And, our dogs, Wonderbutt and Mrs. P.I.B. don’t get biscuits or play time On Demand. Usually.

And my husband, Cap’n Firepants, doesn’t get –

Well, never you mind what he doesn’t get On Demand. We have the Basic Cable Package, so he does just fine.

The point is, you are valued guests on the WhatIMeant2Say blog, and we try to provide you with the best service available. We like to reward loyalty.

So, hang in there. Before you know it, I’ll be announcing that this blog is now available in HD!!!!!!

Or even better, 3D!!!

Here is a sneak preview of our upcoming 3D service! The first person to comment with the correct 3D word will win a virtual Wonderbutt trophy! And, no you don't need special glasses!

Is There a Blogging Workman’s Comp?

I am trying to type this with a sixty-five pound bulldog in my lap.  A snoring bulldog.  Who does not make a very good iPad stand.  If it weren’t for my perpetually vigilant autocorrect, these sentences would be gibberish.  In fact, I was going to turn the autocorrect off so you could see what kind of handicap I’m working under, but I can’t find it, and I’m having trouble focusing because of the gas cloud that just wafted up to my nose.

I’m pretty sure if this continues, I am going to either have to stop blogging, get surgery for carpal tunnel syndrome, or succumb to the fumes altogether one night.

Aforementioned bulldog has recently developed an intense sense of entitlement, and I am apparently the chosen Entitler.

After my day is supposedly done, demands of students and family all met, I blog.  It usually happens around 9:00 at night when I finally set my butt into the desk chair hoping to get an extended period of time absent of questions or pleas for attention.

Lately, that time hasn’t been too extended.

Wonderbutt, with the keen perception of pretty much everyone else in my life, knows that I am trying to fit in some alone time.  Naturally, he believes if I am not busy with anyone else, it must be time for me to spend time with him.  So, he waits by the gate to the Forbidden Section of the house, hoping I will cross over any moment.

Sometimes he waits like this.

Sometimes, like this.

This is what I imagine he is thinking:

Any moment.   Any moment…

O.K. I’ve waited long enough (a whole five minutes).  Time to notify the Lady of the House I am expecting her presence.  Now.  

And so, Wonderbutt makes a few, well-spaced plaintive comments about how long I am making him wait.  Afraid he will wake up Dimples or aggravate Cap’n Firepants, landing me back on square one in the Family Needs Met department, I make a mental note of my blog topic, grab my iPad, and hop over the gate.  Sometimes I fall over the gate.  I’m not very nimble any more.  Well, ever.

Wonderbutt cheerfully follows me to the living room, sits expectantly by the couch, and watches me sit.  When my leg placement finally meets his approval, he hops up, curls himself into a semicircle, plops his paw on my knee and his head on my leg, and goes to sleep.

I am well aware that I am coddling him, creating a monster, etc…

But I like it.  I can’t figure out why.  If one more human being needed me today, I would probably scream.  But I find Wonderbutt’s need comforting for some reason I can’t explain.

I am trying to relearn how to type with one finger.   I haven’t done that since I was in elementary school.  Typical of Wonderbutt to make me regress.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you have been finding my most recent posts to be somewhat lacking in quality, I would like to blame Wonderbutt for forcing me to work in less than ideal working conditions.

And if you haven’t noticed any difference, well just carry on and pretend you never saw this.

I’m Just Not That Into Me

Yesterday I posted about the plethora of awards that have appeared on my metaphorical doorstep in the last week, and promised to reveal a final one today.  It is the “7×7” Award, which was granted to me by the fine lady at Hobbling Around.  So far, she is the only one who has bestowed this great honor upon me, so I must be doing something wrong – a fact that became all too clear as I settled down to do some of the research the “7×7” Award entails.

You see, the “7×7” Award has the caveat that you give links to 7 of your own posts.  And, as I was reading some of my older posts, I realized I ain’t as funny as I think I am.  Which is quite disappointing.  I crack myself up while I’m typing every day.  But I was wincing more than cracking as I read over some of my work.  Quite frankly, I don’t know how you People put up with me – especially on the days when I don’t post Wonderbutt pictures.

Most Popular AND Most Surprisingly Successful – Pretty much any post that gets more than 2 comments surprises me with its success.  By some fluke, this one has gotten over 1,000 views so far.

Most Underrated – I am putting this one primarily because the number of Wonderbutt fans has grown astronomically, and this early post includes a video of him channelling Stevie Wonder.

Most Controversial – None of my posts have lit a fire under anyone’s bottom, as far as I know, but this is one of the ones I was afraid to publish because of the number of Facebook acolytes out there.

Most Beautiful – The writing isn’t beautiful, but the sentiment is somewhat attractive (a tribute to my sister, Crash).

Most Helpful – This is sage advice for anyone trying to lose weight.

Most Prideworthy – I am proud of this one because it’s when I finally confirmed that I am a horrible mother.  I’m not proud of being horrible – just that I am aware of it.

And here are the 7 blogs that I highly recommend:

Mightier Than the Pen

I’m on the Bandwagon

Something New Please

Blue Speckled Pup

Reasonably Ludicrous

An Exercise in Narcissism

Life with Olive

I think all of you are wonderful – particularly now that I’ve been re-reading my own blather.

Slam Dunk for the Globetrotters!

I would like to thank our well-traveled cousins, the Globetrotters, for the worst best Thanksgiving ever.  That might sound oxymoronic, but to those of you who are blogging addicts, it will make perfect sense.  Our hosts pretty much offered THE superlative Thanksgiving experience.  Great for our family.  Very mundane blogging material.

You know you are addicted to blogging when you start yearning for holidays past with the dysfunctional families of ex-boyfriends who, after they downed their jello molds and Bud Lights, came to blows with anyone who asked you to pass the ketchup for the deviled eggs.  Yep, good times.

The Globetrotters live in Houston, so Wonderbutt and Mrs. P.I.B. missed out on the grand feast – partly the reason that our days were less eventful than usual.  Although the Globetrotters have two adorable canines of their own, their dynamic doggie duo have much better manners than our irascible beasts.

Mrs. Globetrotter cooked everything, saving us all from the food poisoning that would have resulted from my culinary contributions and from a kitchen stacked high with pots and covered with flour that would have resulted from a meal prepared by Cap’n Firepants.

The food was delicious, and the exact perfect amount.  There weren’t ten thousand cakes and pies and salads of every sort filling up every available surface and hollering at you that you will suffer the eternal vengeance of any relative whose food you did not sample and declare the best darn dish of cream cheese plus whatever.

So, I want to thank you, Globetrotters, for giving us our picture-perfect Thanksgiving.  I wouldn’t wish any disasters on you because you’ve been through enough, but we may have to host next time so we can have a teeny tiny kitchen fire or Wonderbutt can snatch the turkey off the table and try to drag it out the dog door to his pen to add some extra seasoning.

The Globetrotters' Dynamic Duo Attempt to Replace the Entertainment Provided by the Sexy Lady on the T.V.

Enough with Togetherness. It's Time to Divide and Conquer the Human Couch Potatoes.

Geez, People, Let Me Get Some Sleep!

That Boxer is a Total Lightweight! Jack Russells Never Stop. Never! Never, Ever...

%d bloggers like this: