You know, normally I wouldn’t want to be called a dog. It was the preferred term for my fellow classmates to call me between the grades of 3 and 7. It sucked. But when Shea wrote at Big Blogger All-Star!, “Being mean to you is like kicking a puppy, because you have that insipid sweet in you that can be used in cake mixes. You’re the preppy cheerleader-prom queen grown up. Why aren’t you miserable like all the good geek moms said you would be? Ugh. If you actually posted regularly, I would have to install barf bags on the back of my office chair.” (I wasn’t posting regularly there at the time because of the great bug that has been holding me hostage this week.) Ciscley, the ultimate Blog Game Fan, posted the perfect response. Every time I see that picture I start cracking up. Thank you again, Ciscley. I love it. For once, I don’t mind being a dog.
For the record, I was NEVER a cheerleader, prom queen or anything else like that. Not that I didn’t want to be at one time or another. My cheerleader tryouts were sad. Very, very sad. And in a class of 593 students, the fight for prom queen was a hard one. I wasn’t even in the running. It’s ok though, I mean … you still love me, right?
3 replies on “A Public Thanks…”
I hadn’t planned on putting your face on it, but I couldn’t find the perfect snarly cute dog to post on the message boards. Heh. You’re definitely not one of those little yippy dogs that bites at the ankles though.
“I love you. I lufff you. I lurrrve you. I need more consonants in there…love isn’t a strong enough word.” –Annie Hall
Big Pink Cookie rocks my world wide web. I was a perennial member of the Greater Uncool in high school, which probably explains why I’m into blogging now instead of extreme snowboarding or something like that.
Whatever. I can always go for a pastel pastry from one of my favorite reads. Keep it up, we think you’re mighty fab.
I was never a cheerleader nor the prom queen. I too was never in the running for it and my graduating class was 99. I didn’t even try out for cheerleading because while I was better than anyone that tried out (and I’m not being prideful, I’m serious. Most girls couldn’t do a cartwheel.) I wouldn’t have made it because I didn’t fit the “type”