I said NEW LINKS. I get a new link about once a week, and it is terribly exciting. Someone else is reading my blog! And this person writes cool stuff and things and thinks me worthy of linkage! I, Kris Likey, am becoming a bigger part of my neck of the tiny woods of the blogosphere!
And what to my wondering eyes should appear?
My numbers had gone down. Someone had – gulp – de-linked me.
I’m not proud of it, but a rush of 7th-grade, Claire-Danes-like angst came over me. The same feeling you got when someone spread a rumor around junior high that you were a lesbian at the age when that wouldn’t have been boner inducing. The feeling you got when you didn’t make the band for the ’89 undisclosed-northern-New Jersey production of Damn Yankees. Effers.
I’ll admit; I’ve done it. I know it’s routinely done. But I’m a fragile being right now, sans beau or sufficient intoxication. Clearly this isn’t the right time to turn my comments off to see if I can subsist without the feedback. Ugh. Stupid social experiments.
In other news, I have more evidence that my appropriate-meter is clearly in need of tune up. Today I began watching a Lifetime movie – starring, no, not Susan Lucci, NO! not Valerie Bertinelli, but the indomitable and fabulous Delta Burke – and like a short woman/tall man romance I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Maternal Instincts was a real 1996 watcher about a woman who undergoes an emergency hysterectomy and then kills, maims, or teases the hair of those who perpetrated the unwanted surgery. Delta seeks vengeance by replacing her doctor’s progesterone shots with EVOO, running a woman over with shopping carts in the grocery store parking lot (file that one under I effing kid you not), and switching pregnancy results from positive, you GO GIRL to negative, get a fertile mate a la Mel Gibson already via the office Atari. My friends and I left for lunch mid-movie, and I Tivo’d the remaining hour and a half. AND I WATCHED THE REST OF IT TONIGHT. I couldn’t help myself.
Forget sponsoring me for the upcoming Blogher conference. Can somebody sponsor both my therapy and Chardonnay?
File this under: You don’t need more bone vitamins or female cleansers, no matter what Lifetime Television should suggest; Gerald McRaney; Kris, this behavior is to be expected with the onset of your lady cycle; Jennifer Aniston promises it’s cool to be single; Colonel Mustard; and Prozac, Yellow Tail, and something else with a low incidence of sexual side effects and loneliness.