the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Blogging and the Internet (Page 38 of 57)

Accepting Gifts

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My father was a generous man, but he didn’t enjoy accepting gifts.  He was the eldest of three brothers and always felt like the “responsible” one.  Because of this, I stopped giving gifts to him after I graduated elementary school.  Now I am thinking it had nothing to do with him being responsible, but rather with his inability to accept from others without feeling uncomfortable.  I must say that I’ve been partially afflicted with the same malady, so a special thank you to Sophia and all of you for giving me this wonderful shock treatment.

I’ve gotten great joy from the cards and gifts that you sent to me for my Sophia-created birthday extravaganza.   This must be what a minor celebrity feels like.  I hear that there’s still more booty waiting for me at Danny’s house that I haven’t even seen yet, so if I don’t thank you just yet, it’s not that I’m rude, but that I haven’t seen what you sent yet.

So far, the cards and gifts that I have seen have been more than wonderful — they will help me become a better blogger.    This is because what I received are things every blogger needs.   In fact, they perfectly fit in to the categories of “The Twelve Necessities of Power Blogging,” an idea I set forth in my upcoming book, “The Blogger’s Secret:  How to Blog and Make Zero Dollars.”

1)  Every blogger needs links, both for ego-gratification and to prove to your spouse that what you are doing is “important.” 

And what is the real-world equivalent of seeing a new link on Technorati?   Receiving a birthday card! So, thank you, Two Roads, Alexandra, Question Girl, Becky, Noel, Lefty, Nelumbo,  Leezer, Rhea, Eileen, Jocelyn, Irina, Michele, Bella, Don’t Call Me Sir, Zoely, Claire (with bookmark!), Postmodern Sass,  and Colorful Prose.

2)  Every blogger needs material to steal from.  

Where would blogging be without cutting and pasting from other writers? 

Thank you for all the excellent reading material I can steal post ideas from!   I can’t wait to read the books (thank you, Communicatrix for “Red Pez”, Everyday Goddess for “Snowflakes,”  Karl for the funniest book he’s ever read, Old Lady of the Hills for “Free to Choose,” Lynnster for “Blog Marketing,” and Nancy French for “Red State.”), the comic books (thank you, Richard), the magazine SUBSCRIPTIONS!  (thank you, Mr. Fabulous for Mental Floss, NSC for The National Review [were you and Sophia in cahoots?], Buzzgirl for Popular Science, Leesa for The New Yorker, Jurgen Nation for the Writer), and even newspaper SUBSCRIPTIONS! (thank you, Hilly for the Los Angeles Times).

3)  Every blogger needs something cool to write on. 

I write by hand, so I appreciate the very useful and beautiful notebooks (thank you Deezee, PocketCT, and Blundering American).   And what could be better to write with than a pencil from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam (thank you, Ash).   The pencil will always remind me NOT to cut off my ear when I am frustrated with typing in those codes on Blogger sites.

4)  Every blogger needs exercise. 

Sitting all day in front of the computer is bad for you health.   Thank you for the Kundalini Yoga DVD (Kapgar) and the pedometer (Albert).  I’m hoping that yoga will help me do some of those crazy sexual positions you always read about where the man is holding the woman upside down with his toe.

5)  Every blogger needs nourishment, particularly the essential nutrients in candy and beer.

Hello, amazing chocolate from the best shops in Belgium.   Good-bye Hershey’s from Kmart!  (thank you, V-Grrrl and Javacurls).  I love me some delicious homemade candy (thanks Fresh New Hell).  Chewing gum is always good to clear the mind (thanks Spinning Girl).  And a big woo-hoo for the beautifully packaged bottles of Chicago’s best beer! (thank you, EEK)

6)  Every blogger needs to be stylish.

No matter how good a writer you are, no one will accept you as a “real” blogger unless you have the right “look.”  Top bloggers are now hiring fashion consultants to create an image for themselves, like “The Chic Knitting Blogger.”  Luckily, I have YOU to help me create a unique blogger fashion statement.   I like to present myself as a pseudo-intellectual, one who dabbles in bohemian poetry.  That’s why I’m so excited to get my own wool scarf, lovingly hand-knit by famed LA ukulele player/bitchin’ knitter, Ellen Bloom (thank you, Ellen).   Not only will the scarf be trendy as hell at poetry readings, but it has already kept me warm here in rainy Portland.  

Since my blog is popular with hipsters and hardcore rappers, it is important that I maintain my “street cred.”   On the street, we like to wear t-shirts celebrating cool cities, but NEVER the city that you actually live it.  That would be as lame as admitting that you listened to Vanilla Ice.   Now, I can sit at Starbucks with my laptop winning approving nods from the chick as they check out my t-shirts from Detroit Rock City (thank you, Alissa and Evan), Latin-infused Miami (thanks, Orieyenta), and Milwaukee (thank you, Psychotoddler).

Fashion today is all about “branding,” and I have — what else — started my own line of “Kramer” baseball caps.  (thank you, Pearl for the cool cap– and your poem, of course)

When I’m not out on the town, I’m home blogging in my old purple bathrobe.  Since there was a bit of dispute with Sophia over this bathrobe, I’m glad to say that I now have a BRAND NEW purple bathrobe!  How generous.  (thank you, Deanna).  And the matching handmade washcloth goes perfectly with the bathrobe.  (thank you, Katie).

Even my Penis got some attention from you, thanks to this shirt that I will proudly wear the next time I have a big interview (see above photo). (thank you, Mo)

7)  Every blogger needs creative inspiration.

There are those days when you just draw a blank and need to look at some artwork to give you a jolt.  Now I have my Muses - sexy, creative women in touch with their inner Athena.  I feel honored to hang your artwork on my bedroom wall (thanks Margaret and Stepping Over Junk).   I have a beautiful homemade quilt to now hang next to my computer (thank you, Caron).  I will cherish the photos of budding professionals and hang them in the living room.  (thank you, Finn).  And thank you, Nance, for that very personal literary journal from your school.

8)  Every blogger needs music to listen to while he blogs.

My musical taste is pretty pedestrian, ruined by my years of listening to Casey Kasem’s America’s top 40.   Now I have a homemade “blogging CD” containing the hippest music from Europe.  A Lou Reed song in French — now I’ve heard it all!  (thank you, Lauren)

9)  Every blogger needs to love technology and gadgets.

You never know when Spielberg is going to call wanting to turn your blog into a 300 million dollar film starring Leonardo DeCaprio as YOU.  That means your cell phone always has to be ready for action.  Now it can be with my new emergency phone charger!  (thank you, A Take on the World)

10)  Every blogger needs to have a sense of humor.

Blitz Kreig’s “gag gift” was hilarious.  He sent me a tool set!   It was a joke, right?   Before I use it, you will have to fly out here and tell me what a “tool” is.

11)  Every blogger needs distractions.

Blogging is strenuous work.  Even a professional like me needs to take some time away from the rat race of the blogosphere and unwind.  I love taking a long walk from my office chair to my living room couch to watch movies on DVD.  I’m looking forward to watching “The Illusionist.”  (thank you, blog date Tamar).    Sometimes, a movie isn’t enough and a blogger wants some human interaction.  That’s why I really appreciate getting that one bar of soap shaped like a breast with a nipple.  (thanks, Doris)  This is one of the first times in my life that I am hoping that someone sends me an exact duplicate of a birthday gift.  

12)  Every blogger needs good luck.

One link from Dooce and your career is set.  One photo of you naked with Paris Hilton will get you on Gawker.  From then on, you will be a blogging hero and 1% of the population will know your name.   I believe in luck.  That’s why I was so excited to get lottery tickets from other states and countries (thank you Daisy and Better Safe than Sorry).

Now, I know many of you have taken a liking to Sophia, perhaps even loving her more than me.  I don’t want to sound jealous or anything, but I want you to read the following as proof that I am the one who is truly on your side —

(after opening an envelope with a lottery ticket)

Neil:  “Look at this.  A lottery ticket from Canada!”

Sophia:  “How funny.”

Neil:  “Imagine if I actually won millions of dollars.  I could share it with everyone who sent me a card or gift.”

Sophia:  “Like **&% you will!”

See?…  Who loves you, baby?  It’s ME, not HER.

THANK YOU to everyone who participated in the Carnival of Neilochka, including blogging pals Jules , Roberta, Ascender, and Introspectre.

THANK YOU Ms. Sizzle and Dave for your greetings at Tequilacon.

And Special Love to Danny, Colleen, and of course — Sophia.

(all links will be added later, you link whores.  I have no patience right now.  I’m supposed to be on vacation!)

One Month Later:  Happy now?

Tequilacon

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Jessica, Sophia, Neil

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Neil and Hilly

Yes, Tequilacon is over.   I got to meet a whole lot of amazing bloggers.

Yes, Sophia was there.

Yes, everyone liked her more than me. 

There was alcohol.  There was stick-on tatoos.  Sophia received a tattoo of a tiger on her cleavage.  Bloggers forgot my name.

The event took place in a converted school that is now a trendy hotel/bar.  It is not surprising that I reverted back to my elementary school days — I was intimidated by the girls and enjoyed hanging out with the boys.   It was an honor to meet such cool guys as Dave, Karl, Dustin, Mad William, Vahid, and others.  I was even shocked that my long-time evil nemesis, Brandon of the the defunct One Child Left Behind, is actually a sweet, interesting guy.

The girls were another problem.   In one room were gathered some of the most gorgeous, glamorous, and intelligent women of the blogosphere — Jenny, Jessica, Postmodern Sass, Hilly, Ms. Sizzle, Jill, Kimberly, Adena, Stacy, Communicatrix, Sibyl, Chantel, and others.  Without one glass of tequila, I was getting drunk on the sensuous scent of female bloggers’ pheremones.  Luckily, this being a former school, there was a shower in the men’s room!  Three or four times during the evening, I had to slip away from the group and take a quick cold shower to enable me to continue chatting with others without me drooling like a crazed lecher.

I know it sounds a little ridiculous to some of you to drive all the way to Portland to meet a few bloggers, but it was totally worth it.    I can’t wait to meet the rest of YOU.

My one concern about meeting a blogger is that it makes it difficult to go back to reading his blog, which is a pale imitation of the real three-dimensional person.  It almost makes reading his blog irrelevant.   So, while it was great meeting all of you last night, I think it is only appropriate to now delete you from my blogroll.  Thanks…

There’s More?

Thank you everyone who wrote something for my birthday.  I certainly didn’t expect THIS.  Your kindness is even better than getting any naked photos.  Special thanks to Colleen for setting up “my” carnival.  I’m blushing from all the attention. 

Sophia sends a message as well:  “When I started this Plan, one of you wrote me that I “could use some good PR…”  🙂
It’s been great getting to know you a little through this.  Thanks for being such good co-conspirators.” 

We’re in Eureka, CA and heading for Oregon today.  It is raining, but luckily we have our rain gear!

The Luckiest Blogger in the World

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Can someone have his best birthday ever — four days before his actual birthday? 

Knowing that Sophia and I we were heading off on our road trip to Portland, Danny invited us over for some pre-birthday birthday cake (which he baked himself!  Coconut!) 

First surprise:  Communicatrix and her boyfriend, Brenton, showed up to wish me an early happy birthday.  

Second surprise:  Sophia revealed that she has been secretly working behind the scenes to make my birthday extra special.   She has been emailing YOU for several weeks, telling you of my upcoming birthday, and asking you to mail me a card or a gift to Danny’s address. 

Third surprise:  A whole bunch of gifts and cards were piled high in Danny’s living room, the gifts and cards as varied as there are bloggers:

Chocolates from Belgium.   Art work.  Photographs.  T-shirts from various cities across the country.  Baseball caps.  Soap shaped like a woman’s breast.  A tool kit.  Books.  Movies.  CDs.  Fancy notebooks.  Buttons.  Chewing gum.  Handmade candy.  A beautiful purple bathrobe!   A hand-knitted scarf.  Magazine subscriptions.  Special beer from Chicago.  An emergency phone charger.  Poems.    And tons of birthday cards.  

And more is coming.

I was in shock for the rest of the night.  I had no idea of any of this.  I feel like George Bailey from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” 

I am still speechless.  I can’t think of anything clever to say, other than, “Wow, I’m truly touched.”  

I’m also drunk, so I’ll need to write more about this tomorrow.

Thanks, everyone.  Thanks, Danny.   

And Sophia, you really ARE the best!

P.S. — Does this mean I have to start reading your blogs again?

The Carnival of the Mundane XXX — (the XXX edition)

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Andrew started to unbuttton Jane’s top.  

“I want you,” she said.

“And I want to…”

[the following paragraph has been deleted by the editors of “The Carnival of the Mundane.”]

Jane took another puff of her cigarette, the sweat still on her body.  She caressed Andrew’s strong and manly chest.

“That was amazing,” she said.   “It’s like we are soulmates.  I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I think I’m in love with you.”

“Why would I mind.  I’m in love with you!”

Jane laughs and kisses him.

“You make me so happy.   You know, I’ve never been in love before.   Have you?”

“Well, many years ago, there was this high school teacher in Ohio named Nance, but she became obsessed with how Jesus is portrayed in movies, so it didn’t work out.”

“That must have been hard on you… your first love.”

“It was.  But I quickly rebounded with this woman from Minneapolis.  I used to call Not Faint Hearted because she was kinky as hell!”

“What happened with her?”

“It’s pretty sad actually.  We had a big fight when we went shopping for a toilet.”

“I didn’t know all this about you…”

“I didn’t think it was important…”

“I think it is good that you’ve been in love before.  It shows that you’re a loving person.”

“I like being in love.  And I like being with you…”

Andrew kisses Jane’s stomach, then starts moving his downward, finally kissing…

[the following paragraph has been deleted by the editors of “The Carnival of the Mundane.”]

Jane rolls off of Andrew and lights another cigarette..

“So, there were other women, too?” she asks.

“Yes.   I remember how much I loved Postmodern Sass, but she had this problem deciding if someone was a boy or a girl!   It was very odd… and it made me uneasy to be around her.”

“Sounds odd.”

“I also was in love with this exotic poet named Madeleine, but she went bonkers whenever her computer hard drive crashed.   And then there was Fitena, but she loved reading more than partying.  Oh yeah, there was also Marisa.  She was a real hottie, but when she found water leaking in her closet, she blamed me!  Women!”

“Is that when you started doing online dating and met me?”

“Oh, no.  Not yet.   After Marisa, I fell in love with Maliavale.  She had the cutest mole on her butt.  But when the mole was removed, things just weren’t the same.  I tried starting a relationship with this woman I used to call “Better Safe than Sorry,” but her constant stressing and inability to follow directions bugged me.  I was head over heels over Finn, but she was never home.  She was always out grocery shopping at 8PM.”

“My god!  How many women have you been in love with?”

“Well, certainly no one as sexy as you…”

“Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.  And you know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?”

“I’d like you to…”

[the following paragraph has been deleted by the editors of “The Carnival of the Mundane.”]

“… you mean there were more?!”” she asked.

“There was Stephanie.  She was really cute, but I was kind of embarrassed to be hanging around a woman who didn’t know how many sides were in a trapezoid.   Ellen was fun, but spent way too much time re-organizing her clothes in her closet.   Ascender was wild in the bedroom, but she was a little too New Agey for my taste… always gazing at the sky.”

“My god.  I don’t know you at all.”

“That’s exactly what Fringes said when I moved in with her.  But I really resented having to pay extra rent for her dog, so I left.  I enjoyed living with Elizabeth, because she was very mellow and appreciated the quiet sounds of an ordinary day.  Too bad she caught me in bed with Tamarika.  Now that was one freaky chick!  She used to dream about pale green razors.

“It’s like one woman after another.”

“Not always.  There was the time I tried a threesome with “Life with Mother” and Roadchick, but that was a major headache.  I never understood why “Life with Mother” had to get her TV Guide every week.    And if I had to hear Roadchick’s “frozen pees” story one more time…

“Where did you meet all these women?”

“Oh, it wasn’t just women.  There were men, too.”

“Men?”

“It was a time of experimentation.  There was Karl, this exotic dancer from Florida, but he had a bit of a nasty streak — always wishing a boulder would fall on the car in front of him.  I was definitely in love with him.  And there was Lefty.  What a hunk!  If only, his office desk wasn’t such a mess.”

“Do you just fall in love with any person you meet?”

“Of course not.  And it doesn’t just have to be a person, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so distraught over Karl and Lefty, that I then decided to leave the big city and move to a animal farm in Kansas.  While I was there I started a relationship with a….

[the following paragraph has been deleted by the editors of “The Carnival of the Mundane.”]

“… that’s sick!” she cried.

“You want to have sex again?” Andrew asked.

“Sure,” Jane answered, and climbed on top of him.

The end.  

Happy Mundane Day!

London Calling

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My pandering about the sex appeal of British babes such as Kate Winslet, Rachel Weisz, and Helen Mirren finally paid off — a mention in the Times of London about my 1987 Oscars coverage.  That’s bloody wonderful!

So, screw you, New York Times!  I’m not waiting around for you anymore, you stuffy old fart.  And you know what — growing up in Queens, my family read the Daily News anyway.  Ha Ha!

And LA Times — don’t make me laugh.

London Rocks!  (good Indian food, too)

 

Remember:  Send Carnival of the Mundane links to neilochka at yahoo dot com.

Mundane, Mundane

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Two Roads sent me a photo of her brand new couch. Why? I’m not really sure. I once asked other bloggers for photos of their beds, but never of their couches.

But do I mind that she send me a photo of her beautiful new couch?

Not at all. I’m flattered.

I mean I’d rather have a photo of her jumping on a trampoline while naked, but a photo of her new couch is my second choice. I find the photo interesting exactly because it is so mundane. It’s a couch. To me, the mundane is the stuff of life. In the mundane are the seeds of drama and romance. Who knows what this couch will bring Two Roads in the future? Maybe she will be on it next week kissing with some new boyfriend. Or making love with an old flame. Or watching TV as the President makes some important announcement. Maybe she’ll be blogging while SITTING on this couch. Maybe she is reading this RIGHT NOW as she sits on her new couch. Whatever she does, this new couch is now an integral part of her life. What secrets this couch can soon tell!

I don’t pooh-pooh the mundane, because the mundane is fascinating. The trip to the supermarket. Being stuck in traffic. Playing Monopoly with your child. Rushing out to buy that condom before the big date.

If you love the mundane as much as I do, I invite you to participate in “The Carnival of the Mundane XXX” (that is XXX meaning thirty). For more info, go here. The gala event will be held right here on Citizen of the Month, this Friday, March 2nd. All you have to do is send me a link to one of your posts. Try to think of the theme… the carnival of the mundane. I read your blogs. I know many of you are very boring people. This is perfect for you!

I’m leaving for Portland on Saturday, so Sophia will KILL ME if I spend all day Friday working on this, so PLEASE send me your links by Thursday at noon, March 1st. You want to keep me alive, right? Sophia driving off to Portland without me would NOT be mundane.

Remember — BE MUNDANE, M-U-N-D-A-N-E

My email is neilochka at yahoo dot com.

I Never Promised Anything

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Tonight, I’m going to be interviewed by Wombat of Kiss & Blog on his BlogRadio channel at 8PM EST. If you want to laugh at my accent, it should be on the archives afterwards. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this until after I’ve done it, just in case I’m really boring or I say “like…” and “um…” a lot. But what the hell. We’re all fake friends.

Considering that Wombat usually interviews bloggers about relationships and sex, he has definitely picked the WRONG person this time if he wants a lively interview. The last blogger he spoke with spent much of her time talking about her pierced clitoris. How am I going to compete?

This morning, I turned to Sophia for help:

“Sophia, I need to make something up in order to make myself more kinky for this interview. Can I lie and say you have your nipples pierced?

“How does that make YOU more kinky? If anything you should say that you have your nipples pierced.”

“Jeez, that sends shivers down my back. Yuch. Maybe I can say I have a c**k ring?”

“Ha. Like anyone is going to believe that. Do you even KNOW what a c**k ring is?”

“I’ve read about it in Penthouse years ago. You sort of put it on your penis.”

Sophia started typing on her laptop.

“Here’s a photo of one on Wikipedia.”

“Holy crap. No way. Jesus, there is NO way I would ever use that. You can get a stroke or give your penis gangrene.”

“Look at this one,” she said, laughing.

“Ha Ha. You’re right! That one is the same style as your wedding ring!”

“So, WHAT are you going to talk about? You’re not going to talk about ME, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t talk about you?”

“No.”

“Hmm… that doesn’t leave me much to talk about.”

“Sorry.”

“Without me talking about you — rather than interviewing ME, he should probably be interviewing my hand.”

“Well, you have a talking penis. Why not a talking hand?”

“I have an idea,” I said. “I could tell the story about the first time I saw a p***y.”

“Oh, yeah? You never even told me this story!”

“I was about bar mitzvah age. And there was this girl, Lisa, who liked me. But despite me becoming a “man” that year in the Jewish tradition, I was still more interested in my stamp collection than girls. One afternoon, I was in Lisa’s home and she asked me if I wanted to see her pee.

“OK,” I said.

I went with her into the bathroom and watched her as she took down her pants and sat on the toilet. And then she peed sitting down. It was amazing. I never saw anything like that before. After she was done, she leaned back.

“Would you like to look at IT?” she asked.

“OK,” I said.

I got on my knees, adjusted my glasses, and looked at her p***y. It was pretty interesting. It looked like a giant paper cut.

“Now it is YOUR turn.” she said to me.

“What do you mean?”

“I showed you mine. Now you show me yours.”

I thought this was rather rude of her, despite the fact that I was on my knees staring at her p***y.

“I never said I would show you mine.”

“You promised!”

“I never promised anything!”

She started to cry. Not only was this my first look at a p***y, it was my first real encounter with the irrationality of women. Why was she getting so emotional?

“Get out!” she yelled.

“Hey, calm down. If you want, I’ll show it to you.”

“Too late. Get out!”

Sophia laughed.

“That’s the whole story?” Sophia asked.

“It was the first, but not last time, that I disappointed a woman.”

Sophia laughed for five minutes. I thought she was laughing just a little TOO LONG.

Letter Writing Campaign

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I try not to get political on this blog, but I plead with you to help me with this important issue. 

Sophia and I will be driving to Portland in the beginning of March and we may take a week or two to complete the trip.  Today, I was saying that we need to find hotels with internet access so that I will be able to blog every day.

“No way!” she said.  “We’re on vacation.  I’m not going to sit there every night watching you blog and write five hundred emails  We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I need to blog a little.  People will get worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“If they don’t hear from me, they might think we fell into the Pacific Ocean or a redwood fell on top of us.” 

“If that happened, they’d read about it in the newspaper.  You’re NOT blogging EVERY DAY.”

“Listen, woman, I’m the one wearing the pants, so don’t go telling ME what I can or cannot do.  I will decide how much I blog!” I loudly thought to myself.

You can see the seriousness of my situation.  My only real hope is YOU.  I made a deal with Sophia.  She will agree to let me blog every day if, and ONLY if, I can collect 1,500,000 signatures by March 1st saying that it is essential that I blog every day.  If I accomplish this, Sophia will not stand in my way.  Otherwise, she will give me a lot of shit.

Please help.   Send all signatures to:

“Let Neil Blog While On Vacation Campaign”
Redondo Beach City Hall
Redondo Beach, CA

Better Late Than Never

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Five months ago, Sophia was in New York working and I was lonely.  To ease my pain, many of you sent me photos of your beds.  Deannie, the writer of “Home is Where the Heart Is” told me that she wanted to send me a photo, but she didn’t have her own bed.  She promised to send me a photo once she got her condo and bought a bed.

Yesterday, I received a photo of Deannie’s bed.  Nothing impresses me more than someone who keeps a promise.

From what I gather, this is actually the wrong bed that was delivered to her home, but she decided to keep in “instead of going through all the hassle of the exchange process.”

I, for one, like the bed.  It is very antique-looking, like something you might see in an old house in Vermont.  I especially like the elaborate headboard. 

Now, as the rabbis of yore used to do, I would like to recite the tradtional blessing for a new bed:

“Deannie, may this bed bring you much joy.  May you have many a restful night as you sleep soundly in this cozy and warm bed.  May you have pleasant dreams and wake up refreshed from your nights sleeping in this wonderful new bed.  And may you have many memorable nights @%#@** against the elaborate headboard.”

Update:  Next time I am alone, I won’t be needing your bed photos, thanks to my new sheet and pillow case combo.   (thanks, Dagny!)

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P.S. — I’m also doing my first “guest-blogging” stint at No Pasa Nada.   So, for one day you can call me Heather!

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