Lemons into lemonade

So the first part of this post is a giant thank you to all my readers and those who voted for me in the 2008 Bloggies. On Monday I was at the awards ceremony in Austin, there to announce the winner in three different categories not knowing that I would walk away with four of my own: Best American Weblog, Best Designed Weblog (which I dedicated to Grace at Design*Sponge because she is my hugest design inspiration), Weblog of the Year, and Lifetime Achievement Award. I think that last one should make me eligible for a free Rascal Scooter or at least an official document that I can show to my server at Sizzler’s that proves I qualify for the senior citizen’s discount. Or maybe everyone was trying to send me a hint, and this was your nice way of saying woman, your boobs are now touching your kneecaps, if we give you this award would you please put a bra on?

I’m totally blown away and dumbstruck, and when I got on stage to accept the awards I couldn’t think of a coherent word to say. But now that I’ve had a few days to think about it I should have thanked my seventh grade English teacher, Mrs. Krause, who was the first person to encourage me to write and once told me, “You are really good at rhyming words.” Which translates to: you are an awkward, insecure 12-year-old girl with no boobs, so let’s find something to cheer you up. Can you dance? Sing? What about the trumpet, can you play the trumpet? I know! You’re better than anyone else at finding something that rhymes with coconut!

And I was. I WAS.

I can’t thank you, my readers, enough, and I know it’s not cool to be touched and grateful for something called a BLOGGIE. That’s like being proud of the open wound on my back that has started to attract flies and oozes so heavily through the bandage every night that I wake up stuck to the sheets. But dammit, I am so flattered.

See also this Wired story about the event where the author got to say “DOOCE BAGS” in a headline. If he were here right now I’d high five him and then let him tell me his favorite fart joke.

I also found out that same day that The Guardian put together a list of the world’s 50 most powerful blogs and I came in at number five. Holy Effing Shit. Do the people who write The Guardian drop mushrooms on a regular basis? I know, I know, with great power comes great responsibility, so I’m making the promise to you now that I am going to do everything I possibly can to make sure that bacon is served in more public schools.

Also, I hope this means that Orrin Hatch will start answering my text messages.

So the last part of this post is to tell you this little story about how my life came full circle about an hour after I won those awards, how Jon and I were walking down one of the long halls at the Austin Convention Center when three guys passed to the left of us. One of them did a double take and called out my name, and I had the hugest two-second freak out of my life. He looked so familiar, like someone I might have dated when I lived in Los Angeles, and OH MY GOD, HAD I DATED HIM IN LOS ANGELES? Had I ever seen his penis? What if I had seen his penis and could not give him the courtesy of remembering his name?

Hey kids! Don’t go living your early twenties so that a situation like this one happens in your early thirties. On the other hand, you’ll have a total blast.

The whole room started to spin for a second as I scrambled to remember how I knew him, and I was grasping for some story that I’d tell Jon about how oops! Yet another person I had dated in LA that I forgot about! Ha ha! How many times has this happened since we’ve been married? Oh that’s right, you lost count at 15.

So I made the gesture to shake his hand when I realized that I recognized the other two men with him, and then BOOM, it hit me in the face like the lid of a titanium coffin. All three men were vice-presidents at the company that fired me in 2002. And the one standing in the middle was the one I used to make fun of for talking so loud that you could hear him over a low-flying F-16. AND HE QUOTED THAT TO ME.

I had to reach out and grab Jon’s arm so that I wouldn’t fall over, but they smiled kindly, congratulated me on my success, and said they were amazed that after all these years I was still taking the most mundane stories and making them sound like an Olympic event. Because they still read my website. And remember that one time I was walked to my car with all my office supplies in a box? And told never to return? Wasn’t THAT the best thing that ever happened to me.