AWARD SEASON

So here I sit, feeling like a schmuckatude of the first magnitude. (Yes. Yet again.)

I started reading blogs about two years ago. I lurked in the shadows and was a general stalker for about eleven months before our beloved Stitch Bitch called me out on it, and I've been public ever since. (Thank you, by the way, Ms. Anna Your Very Self. This has been one hell of a ride!)

When I saw the first blog awards bestowed, I was pretty fascinated by the fact that you could find such cool doo-hickeys for blogging, and this sent me into a tizzy fit of trying to figure out how to make my very own doo-hickeys. Alas, I was not very successful.

The fact of the matter is that I get all red-faced and embarrassed and sweaty whenever I see that somebody has thought enough of me to honor me and this silly little blog with an award of any kind. To be honest with you, I am completely flabbergasted that anybody would even want to read all of my crapity crap crap...let alone take the time and effort to award me with anything at all. It's both humbling and scary at the same time. Humbling because I never would have imagined that I would get awards for just being me, and scary because I feel like I've stolen cookies from the cookie jar and you're praising me for getting the lid back on straight.

So what does one do when given an award? Say "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly", or "Oh gee whiz, I am just not worthy", or "Wow! You just ROCK to think of me in such a fashion!".

Well, I suppose that I will take the easy way out and say "All of the above, please".

Truth is, kids...I've waited to be at the cool kids' table my entire freakin life. I've always hung back and watched what everybody else does so that I could determine the best course of action for strapping on my WANNA-BEE's and getting down with the group, but I have never in all my life felt so completely safe to be me.

(Funny how I'm now hearing the song "I Gotta' Be Me! I Gotta' Be Me! rambling through my brain now. Damn. I hope it doesn't get stuck in there.)

(What's stuck in there now is "Up On The Roof", which I heard a few days ago when Aunt Chrissy and I were watching all of the episodes of Nurse Jackie on the Showtime Freebie. Not a bad song at all, really, but when it's been lodged in your tiny little brain for a week and a half, you don't have a lot of room for other things. Like pin numbers or important dates in history and such.)

So here I sit pondering it all and typing my mental blah blah blah and the stitchy world not only accepts it, but encourages it with comments and emails and shout outs and awards.

What the heck is wrong with this picture?

Instead of trying to figure out where and when y'all lost your damn minds, I'm just going to bask in the glow of it all and give you the most goofy (yet very heartfelt) grin and say a succint (yet conclusive) thank you.