much much burp slurp! me no hurt you little girl.

I had never thunk myself as a girl in search of attention. I would have checked off the “wall-flower” box without much thought, but all of a sudden I want this read. Yes. This right here. My pollyblog. Read by people. Real live people! So I emailed my friend who has patented Advertising Access and told her to go ahead and advertise this little puppy and she said ok. It was that simple. Done. Fini. 10-4, good buddy.

In preparation for The Advertising, I’ve gone through and reread almost of all I’ve wrote. Changed a few things. Hid others away for rainy days or posterity or maybe never to be seen again. There are lengthy posts that I have no recollection of writing. There are crazy rants and goo drentched paragraphs of angst and woe is me. I’m not proud of it all. Some things kinda make me cringe but are still living on the information super highway for all to see. I guess they serve to make this real.. or realer. Like watching a dissection. My insides laid out for anyone who wants a peek.

What I have to restrain myself from writing every time I pen the word PEEK: a-boo!

Last time I played peek-a-boo: Thursday.

I went to a fondue party. I had never fondued before! It started out innocently enough. An asparagus spear here, a chunk of bread there and before you know it I seriously think I consumed a POUND OF CHEESE. No good! It really sneaks up on you. I think I’ll invent a pedometer type device (a fonduometer!) to attach to the pokey fondue forks that will tally the number of times it’s dipped into the cheese. Sure to make your jaw drop at the end of the evening! I wonder what else you could stick to the poker and dip into stuff. Donut holes into coffee. Cock doggies into warmed ketchup. Lima beans into peanut butter. Fun size Snickers into bubbling tarter sauce. The possibilities are endless!

I can’t really hold a grudge. So while I should be hopping mad at M again, I’m just sorta whatever about it all. Apparently, I can’t deny a teary eyed boy a hug! I’m a sucker for trying to get to the smooooove. To the no stress. To the calm. To the smile. It’s my whole heart thing messing with me again. You know, the fact that I have one. Ha! Insert rim shot here, please.

Watched Freaks and Geeks last night. What a great show! They somehow figured out how to do the whole “feel-good” thing without throwing in a buncha sappy. There were dance scenes that made my stomach all googly with vivid memories of my own high school dances and first kisses and parties gone out of control when my parents were asleep upstairs. I think I woulda been more of a freak than a geek. Teen aged Wisconsin punk rock girl. Messy hair, punk t-shirts, tattered old cardigans, hand stamps from shows. I had band stickers all over my notebooks and published a fanzine called Scream with my friends. The only fanzine put out by girls in the whole city! GIRL POWER! I almost cried when I got to meet Ian McKay. I cut class and lied to my parents. Listened to poppy punk rock beats at top volume in my headphones. Never missed a show. Was kinda afraid of the Misfits. I remember taking the long way around to the door so I could avoid Glen Danzig, completely convinced that he’d eat me if I got too close. That seems like a whole lifetime ago.

I’ll end this with the wee little thought that’s been running through my head the entire time I’ve been typing away about fondue and big hearts and punk rock: I met a boy.