I end my worst week of blogging with a warning: ignore me. When I’m sane, it’s OK for me to ask you to send me a photo of your bed. When I’m crazed and needy and sort of horny after weeks of tension over Sophia’s surgery, DO NOT send me a photo of your bed, no matter how much I beg you for it.
Here are a couple of things I did today that should put me on some sort of “Do Not Blog With Him” list:
I started out the day emailing Jason, who lives in Nova Scotia, and telling him that I’m wearing a t-shirt that reads “Nova Scotia,” which my mother bought me years ago when she visited… Nova Scotia. Like he gives a crap. (Bonkers!)
I emailed two “anonymous” bloggers to ask them to send me photos of themselves since I was curious to see what they looked like. (Nuts!)
I emailed Heather Anne and told her that I want to know more about her, so I’m going to read her old archives. (Stalker!)
I wrote a bizarre and convoluted email to Pam, telling her why I thought BlogHer excluding men was like putting a nativity scene on public property during Christmas, and making Jews feeling left out. (Insanity!)
I showed up at Thursday’s Stitch and Bitch meeting at the Farmer’s Market, hoping to run into Ellen Bloom, but she wasn’t there. The other knitters looked at me like I was some sort of serial killer. (Arrest him!)
Run, don’t walk from this blog. Run!
(but come back next week, when hopefully things will be back to normal)
Neil’s Penis: “I very much doubt that!”