You can see the individual tweets that went with the images here. Having a job meant I tweeted more than I do now taking care of a toddler. Go figure.

Dunno. I tend to shy away from writing posts that will antagonize people intentionally. So even though I took issue with someone’s shortsightedness on Twitter, then wrote an entire blog post with my dissenting view, by the time I finished messing around with displaying the tweet first by defective WordPress plugin then by screenshot, I didn’t care anymore one way or another. My attention span is too short to lure some dude into my space to defend himself to me over a tweet.

So. Here we are. No controversy, no baiting, no nothing.

Hilariously, Matt Leinart’s mustache has been the #1 attraction on my blog since Sunday, tripling my normal traffic for the weekend and Monday. I’m #4 on Google for the search. It’s extremely important to know why in the world he’s wearing that thing, so I’m glad to be a valued resource.

Sparking your own controversial movement in comments…

Oh, wait! I forgot! I did take exactly one photo:

It’s my sister’s red velvet cheesecake, this evil baked good that deceived people into thinking they were eating a slice of cake when, as you can see, they were actually eating three. At one time.

I snapped the photo with my phone to send Q as an SMS and his reply was something like:

If you don’t bring me a slice home for my visit this weekend, I will cut you.

I have a hard relationship with leftovers: I do not like them. Especially after I’ve been eating all day then staring down a sinkful of dirty dishes. But: I love my mother’s cornbread turkey dressing and managed to leave without any. I woke up this morning without cornbread dressing for breakfast the day after Thanksgiving for the first time in 40 years.

Eh, I made myself feel better with a Whopper with cheese. I’ll suffer the nauseous consequences later, but it was yum.

Clicking round and round on Twitter, I followed a retweet to a post at Princess Nebraska. I hate that I’m pasting such a large swath of her post, but I can’t get you to get me without reading in complete context what she wrote:

A few months ago I was talking to my psychiatrist about my new anti depressant, and how well it was working, because I think it’s actually working quite well.  I have moments of genuine joy.  I feel happy many times a day.  I yell less.  Some things still make me anxious, but only ahead of time, not for hours afterwards, not to the detriment of my whole life.  I’m having fun, over here. I really really am.

But it is not PERFECT.  I am not a whole new person. I am not floating on air and walking on sunshine.  I still frustrated and I still yell and I still feel overwhelmed a thousand times a day. I still get raging PMS.  I am not calm and level and self centered, I am far from perfect.

And as I was telling all this to my doctor, she leaned over and she said “This may be as good as it gets.  You have a really stressful job.”

And damn it, if that isn’t true as all get out.  I have a REALLY STRESSFUL JOB.

For sure, I am doing the hardest job I have ever done.  Taking care of these two children is a really really hard job, and if anyone else I knew was doing a job THIS HARD, I would expect them to be stressed.  I would expect them to be tired. I would expect them to be anxious. I would expect that it would affect their life in a big big way.  I don’t know why I am so hard on my self when these very same things happen to me.

I read this. That this may be as good as it gets, and I get that now. And I haven’t felt this much relief in a long time. I keep expecting to get better even though I’m already better. I’m better than I was before and there is nothing that says I’ll ever feel better, do better, be better than I am now. This is probably it in all my anxiety, nervousness, scattered perfectionism, laziness, bewilderment at human nature, all of it, this is it. And I accept that now.

Two more Internet-related tasks to go, then I gotta take the baby outside like I promised him. Even though he’s been outside with Jordan for an hour. Does he not understand “Mommy’s watching Michael Jackson’s This Is It”?

Day 25 of blogging in comments, y’all…

I could actually go for a nice burger, but I’ve tremendously outspent my budget this week.

I don’t deserve a $10 burger. It’s easy to talk myself out of it since the burger place I’ve been meaning to try is all the way in midtown Houston, and I just drove through Midtown’s cousin downtown Houston on the way back from meeting Q to drop off the baby. I’m not willing to make a return trip through Houston for a $10 burger. That’s probably more accurate.

The owner of Hubcap Grill, the midtown burger place, is on Twitter. I follow him and a few other local food people. Until a few months ago, I don’t think he understood how Twitter worked when he thought he was having private conversations with his foodie friends. Ranting about customers, complaining about customers. Since I follow some of the same people, I was part of those conversations whether he knew I even existed or not.

So I tweeted one of Hubcab’s friends, a local food critic, something like: Hey, is the food at Hubcap Grill worth putting up with the owner’s attitude?

The critic answered: if you love good burgers, I wouldn’t let his crankiness stop you from trying them. It’s good stuff.

Miraculously, coincidentally, the grill owner’s customer complaints to the critic stopped. Now he tweets his menu specials, when there might be a bit of a wait, when he’s out of veggie burgers. Perhaps he’s learned the art of the private, direct message. He’s certainly learned what not to say in a public timeline.

Next time Q is in town for more than a baby exchange, we’ll take the kids to Hubcap. I’ve been wanting to try Gigi’s Asian Bistro as well, but one Midtown adventure with the family sounds like enough for one weekend.

Meanwhile, I think there is a loaf of white bread in the pantry with my name on it. Oooooh, and some Ramen. I’m all set.

Dreams of good food in comments…

Three days ago, in danger of burning out on NaBloPoMo before it even began, I figured I should outline what is likely to happen here over the next 30 days.

And, even better, what’s not gonna happen.

1. There will be lists. I like lists. There is nothing wrong with lists. Thoughtful, fun and useful lists beat crappy narratives every day of the month.
2. There will be no blogging about blogging. One of the worst side effects of NaBloPoMo is the quick descent by many bloggers into publishing post after post complaining about not having anything to write about. That won’t happen here.
3. I will forget what I was talking about.
4. And misplace my keys.
5. If the state of Texas ever decides to properly process my 8-week-old unemployment benefits claim, I will enjoy a vodka highball while writing.
6. I will attempt to write a few posts without using the letter C in deference to the baby’s breaking the C key off my laptop then stuffing it between the mattress and the headboard.
7. Since blogging about blogging will be off-limits, I will blog about how behind I am on laundry.
8. Depending on how delightfully prosey is my lovelinks post for the week, I will occasionally send you to read me over at lovelinks. Yes, that still counts in the 30 days as a post.
9. You know what should count as a post? Tweeting. I’m funnier on Twitter and never miss a day.

Your own #10 in comments…

Thanks to everybody who linked up for the final open submissions week for lovelinks!

This is it—the moment we’ve all been—wait, that moment is probably not this moment, but it’s a moment that still deserves attention:

Everybody gets three votes. Click on the yellow star beneath the thumbnails of your three favorite posts, and after you’ve voted three times, the vote total for each post will be visible.

Feel free to launch a social media campaign if you feel you’ve given us your best stuff. The final prize—an ad slot in the sidebar of The Bloggess—can mean increased exposure for your blog, and this is your chance to enjoy the extra page views and traffic without having to pay the hundred bucks for it. Lovelinks and by lovelinks I mean free fringes and by free fringes I mean Erica M and by Erica M I mean my household budget will take care of that expense for you. Why?

Because I know how it is to write your best stuff in relative obscurity without the means or ability to travel to conferences and coffee klatsches to meet other writers and bloggers with the intent to expand your community, your circle of friends and influence. And giving some of you the chance to meet and greet without great expense or travel is what lovelinks is all about.

This week as usual, there will be an outright winner, and that blogger will move to next week lovelinks. And the top ten percent of vote-getters after that will also move to next week. Then, there will be a final spot selected by me as the Editor’s Choice.

Because of a technical glitch, instead of the usual midnight, voting is open until 6:30 am tomorrow, U.S. eastern daylight time [-4 GMT].  I’ll write the winners’ post after all votes are in or after I wake up, whichever happens second. Follow freefringes on Twitter so you’ll get the announcing tweet immediately. Or you can keep checking this space over and over asking “Is she up, yet? Gaw, what a lazy beyotch. I’m waaaaaaaaaiting!”

You may just wanna go ahead and let Twitter tell you.

Good luck, everybody.

Lovelinks #25 is open for voting…

Firstly, I think I hold the copyright on the word listicle, and shall be sending Stasha a cease and desist letter soon enough.

Until then, please join her in her really cool weekly link-up Monday Listicles. She’s been doing it for a while as far as I can tell from my Twitter feed, and I finally clicked through from my Facebook feed. Isn’t social media a hootenanny?

I’m working my writing assignment in the morning, then heading to work the NFL  Houston Texans Monday Night Football game this afternoon. I will not be around, but what else is new?

The kids and I spent the weekend with Q at 100 different places without venturing more than three miles from my house at any given spot. That cracked me up. That’s the benefit of living near a mall, major freeway and restaurant corridor. We zipped up and down the same street for two days. Ehren, my little man, and Q, my big man, are back in north Texas, ready for school and work. Jordan and Jon Alex, still here with me, have exactly one week before their first day of school. This weekend was a nice break for everybody before getting back into the rigidity of their routines.

Lovelinks #19 opens tomorrow…