You know that awkward moment when you go to the ER because one side of your face 
swells up and you think you have an abscessed tooth or the sinus infection from hell, and then they look at you and go, “No, it was a stroke.” And then you just stare at the doctor, for what feels like an eternity, waiting for the punchline. But then you remember that not everyone has the same dark, weird sense of humor that you do. So an ER doc probably isn’t just pulling your leg when he stays throwing around words like “stroke” and “admittance” and “observation.”
So, naturally, once I realized he wasn’t going to wink, tousle my hair and say, “I’m just joshin’ with ya. You’re fine! Now get out of here, you little skallywag!” I immediately asked, “Is it serious, doctor? Be straight with me, I can handle it.” Not really. That’s what I would have said if I were in a Lifetime movie of the week and needed to move the storyline along. What I did was laugh. Continue reading →
e years ago. Since then, she (yes, she … Buttercup identifies as female) has sat un-updated and, I’m assuming, unread. An abandoned blog, adrift in the Blogosphere, like a tumbleweed spinning across the desert, accompanied only by the sound of crickets and the occasional howl of a lone coyote.
Most people are familiar with the warning “be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.” To me, it seems mostly applicable to situations where you find yourself with the opportunity to have a wish or three granted, but had to use careful wordage and phrasing due to the tendency of bottle-dwelling genies to be quite literal. Or maybe spending eternity crammed inside a bottle has just turned them into assholes. 
If I had my druthers, I’d write in long hand. My thoughts seem to flow better, I have something tangible to show for my work and I don’t edit myself while I’m writing as much as I do when I’m typing.
In about a week, the blogosphere will be neck deep in Valentine’s Day related posts. From the loved to the lonely, the damaged to the dreamers, the haters, the lovers, the bitter, the giddy, the cynics and the believers — every opinion, reaction, experience and emotion will be represented and documented. You won’t be able to swing a last minute, leftover bouquet of wilted flowers without hitting a Valentine’s Day post. 
Well would you look at that?! I can’t believe it’s shameless self-promotion time again. The days sure do fly by when you’re trying to find a way to call attention to yourself and your non-blog projects without appearing to be even more narcissistic than you’ve already revealed yourself to be. Fortunately, it occurred to me that if I replace my egocentric blathering with genuine admiration and a glowing review of another person’s work, in which I just happened to play a small part, I can ride her coat tails straight to The Land of Hey Look At Me!
Pucker Up Buttercup 