…oh, lord, I don’t know why I’m reacting to this in lolcat. But it’s true: I heard back from my PopMatters editor this evening, and he’s more than delighted to accept my Holiday piece. He was so delighted, in fact, that I’m blushing a little as I, er, carefully store the email away for rereading. On a regular basis.

Honestly, this is just the most fabulous feeling. I hope it never gets old. I mean, I hope I have a chance to find out one way or another, but just in case, I wouldn’t mind experiencing that heart leap over and over again. Except next time I may try not to have it happen at Tim Horton’s. I have no memory of what happened between checking my email and arriving home with [checks bag] a key lime donut.

Which is OK, I guess, I like key lime. But I like BEING PUBLISHED BETTER! WOOOOOOOOT!

…ah, yeah, needs work, I know. I suppose it’s the old touchdown thing – act like you get into the endzone on a regular basis, not like it’s a huge honking surprise. Thing is, though, it is. Especiallly in re: opinion pieces like this. If some small part of you isn’t honestly amazed when somebody confirms your random thoughts are good enough to be broadcast to the public wholesale, I’m thinking you’ve got serious issues.

Also needing work is the title – my editor (and yes, I intend to refer to him in the possessive at every possible opportunity, so get used to it now) isn’t familiar with the movie, so has asked me for suggestions. As can be gathered from the original header (which references an old REM lyric) me and snappy titles, they don’t come automatic. I told him I’d ponder…and meanwhile, I’m throwing it open to the readership. Any and all suggestions welcome.

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We got the apartment!

Oh, I’m so happy. We’d just about convinced ourselves that it wasn’t going to happen – no, no particular reason, just that we are the kind of people who routinely need proof that stuff like this is gonna happen to us. Said proof arrived yesterday, in the form of a call from the property manager, and boy are we not complaining.

Two-bedroom apartment! With…OK, this is going to be hard to explain as squee-worthy, given that it’s what the people on any given ep of House Hunters are looking for in a spare bedroom alone, but…doors! That close! Walk-in closet! Storage space up the wazoo, in fact! Space to entertain! Living room, to put the TV in, that is not either of our sleeping spaces! Means losing the unspeakably thrilling biweekly oh-am-I-getting-popcorn-in-your-bed-I’m-sorry-I-don’t-have-to-watch-this-no-wait debate, of course, but we’ll muddle through somehow.

And the whole newly renovated – they’re apparently upgrading the individual units as they rent them, which hey, new bathroom faucets! Did I mention the new bathroom faucets? Oh, lord, people are going to think we live in a cardboard box right now. Which we don’t, really, but… Ooh, something else I just remembered – our friends live there, two couples’ worth actually, and a couple more in the building right next door (including the mother-daughter team we went to Florida with). So. Cool. For starters, what with all the big strapping husbands hovering about, we are totally set come moving day (June 1st). The beer bill might be a tad high.

Ooh! Also, we have a landlady who likes to tell stories about the time she got drunk and her boyfriend had to take her home, and when she passed out on the floor decided to stay all night to look after her – but not touch her, no sir. She knows this, because she went to the doctor the next afternoon to confirm it, and he told her that she was totally un-taken-advantage-of, and didn’t that tell her something? So she married him – no, not the doctor, her boyfriend. Honestly, I am torn between hoping this woman never comes near us again and inviting her in for coffee on a regular basis.

*sighs happily* So much to think about, so much to do…new bedroom furniture to buy…what do you guys think of taupe and cream with rosy accents as a colour scheme?
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And over-rated/but that doesn’t bother me…

Public-service announcement: In reviewing the readership stats for the last couple days, I notice with increasing dismay that many people checking out my historical pieces are actually in Europe. Uh, yeah…sorry about that, guys. Any chance we can just write me off as a typical boneheaded goofball North American, chuckle indulgently and move on? Or at least, put down that guillotine?


So I’ve signed up as a Wikipedia editor, despite growing amusement at the ever-widening dichotomy between the scholarly attempt to gather, collate and notarize every significant subject possible and the reality of the human nature involved in the process. Internet human nature, at that; upon which a few minute’s meditation should really have discouraged the Wikicreators right there at the starting gate.

It didn’t, however, and I must admit there’s a certain seductive pleasure in (finally!) being able to share your trivia pile with the world and call it Adding to the Store of Knowledge. Also, there’s the moment when you go googling to confirm some minor trifle you’re planning on adding to the Bob & Ray pages and discover that…whoops!…

[raises teeny-tiny horn to lips]

*toot toot*

…there are actually a few other blogs out there that linked to my PopMatters article! One of which belongs to Mark Evanier! Words like ‘good’ and ‘great’ being thrown around!…Plus, a really nice onsite comment on the article itself!

[lowers horn]

…Anyhow, I was wondering – I know the readership contains at least a couple people who’ve run up against this sort of thing before – my first impulse was of course to cyber-race up to all these people and strew hugs and babbled ‘thank-you’s madly about; my second was to wonder if that was quite the done thing. Don’t want to look like a craven opportunist and all that, don’t you know. Or, perhaps worse, a goofy n00b. But then, perhaps not responding at all would be unpardonably rude…
Thus I appeal to the audience: Just how does one react in cases like this? Are thank-you posts expected, or appropriate? I notice one of the mentions is on an LJ, and on reading the posts generally would really like to be able to swear eternal Friends List-ship if it’s at all possible…

My PopMatters article is up!

…oh, you remember, that comedy team.

Seriously, I’m on the front page and everything…at least for this weekend (come to think of it, you might want to schedule reading it as something pleasant to do of a Sunday afternoon).

After that, the link is under ‘My Favourite Things’, here. Please note that yours truly is mentioned not only as the author, but over there in the side blurb as ‘exploring the partnership’. And you thought I was just being annoying! Well…yeah, as it turns out, annoying does get you places after all. I mean, this is me sharing a page with Snoop Dogg. Fame is in fact completely surreal…

Er…sorry, folks, you’ll have to put up with the babbling for awhile. There’s apparently no manual for how to react when the crowning dream of your life is realised – or at least begins to be realised (Shoemom: ‘Yes dear, I’m so proud; next time, find out if they’re paying you upfront, OK?’) so, uh, yeah, babbling.

Sometimes the world begins/To set you up on your feet again…

Public-service announcement: Kalan Porter.

OK, OK, I know…look, I did try a Google News search beforehand this time, but no dice. Save for a handful of references to this year’s CI auditions. I note they seem to have borrowed the ‘Looky the cumulative avalanche of talent we’ve uncovered!’ card from AI…unfortunately a year or so after everybody noticed that the AI talent being referenced were, almost without exception, the people who had fallen by the wayside (or been shoved there) during the process, not the carefully-nurtured products of same.

Which would still not be a huge problem, per se, except that CI’s version of ‘C’mon out, take a chance, and you too could be the next Daughtry!’ is, y’know, Billy Klippert. I won’t even get into the dichotomy between being Jennifer Hudson and being Jacob Hoggard. So who the hell do they have left to seriously audition for this thing? Greg Neufeld, hoping third time’s the charm? The mind reels.


Anyway, seriously, there is a point to my base attention-gathering tactics here. Really. Not, I will confess, unmixed with a certain particular satisfaction in terms of my…stormy…Idol-writing career. (See, kids, this is one of the practical advantages of staying awake in English class – you have at your command infinite polite euphemisms for “Nyahh-nyah-nyahhhh-NYAHHHHHH!”.)

It’s a rather peculiar sensation, isn’t it, having good news to tell? I mean, really good news. Not just ‘there was leftover birthday cake in the office today,’ or even ‘whoa, hunky dude from the Pilates class finally asked me out!’.
This is the kind that validates something so deep inside, it gives you little shuddery shocks of sweetness every time you realise it afresh. So that who you tell, and how, becomes important in and of itself. Do you run screaming through the streets, setting all that excitement off in one glorious but short-lived firework? Or do you hoard it carefully, spending it only among those close ones of whom you can be sure of maximum return on your investment?

…Or, reluctant to give it up in either case, do you heighten the sensation by blathering on for awhile about the entirely obvious? More