There I was on Friday at work, just an hour or so to go before I could blow out and join my friend Geri, who was celebrating her last day on the job before going back to school and changing careers. I'd been working fast and furious all day and thought I would take a break and surf over to some of my favorite blogs.
And even though Tino Popo is in the dog house because she's having an affair with MySpace (see, I'm not even going to link your page, you ho'!), leaving the rest of us sensitive lovahs with a cold space in the sheets where her ingenious blog entries used to be.... and even though she seems to be commenting more on Shaken Mama's blog than my own (I wish I'd never introduced you! I cried to S.M.) ... I gave in to my addiction and visited her.
A new entry! I settled into my office chair with glee. Popo was appreciating blogs! Since I whorishly stole most of my blog roll from Popo in the first place, I greedily began reading down, ready to rip her off again.
First came Love and Hatred. Check. Already got that, a very fine creation. (Here I gave myself a virtual pat on the back. I'm thinking like Popo now!)
But then, but then, (I'm still tearing up about it) my eyes read lower and saw ... JUST A GIRL IN SAN FRANCISCO! (Sorry for shouting, but at least I didn't ask you to help me clean up my exploded head.)
I am still 10 feet off the ground, like the balloons that you know terrify the crap out of me, or like the magic carpet I dreamed about last night that I couldn't get to go high enough or fast enough, no matter how I pointed my toes. Here's what the Popo said about ME:
I started reading this blog over the summer. Every time I visit, I love it more and more. This blog is why I love blogs. It's so well written and so entertaining, and so honest and so intriguing, and there's nothing about it I don't absolutely adore. And even though its author is in San Francisco, and despite the fact that I've never met Ms. Stella Haven, I feel like if we were ever to meet, we would be fast friends, and we would end up drinking too much wine, and she would say, "Oh, I shouldn't have another glass," and I would say "Oh, go on, have one, what's the big deal, life is short," and she would oblige, and the next thing you know we'd be throwing up over the edge of a curb somewhere in the Castro, but after we woke up the next morning and nursed our hangovers, we'd be glad we went for that seventh bottle of Cabernet (Oh, and Erica would come, too, because I'd need the whole package and I read their blogs in tandem, if that's possible) . I just know it.
Thank you, Popo! True Sensitive Love 4-Ever!
Erica's comment, before my head exploded was, "She's wrong. You would never say no to another glass of wine."
I heard nothing more, because my head then exploded, all over the newsroom, and I think maybe I'm fired because a little bit got in the publisher's eye.
Popo, warn a girl next time!