It's Award Time People! (Just play along - it'll be over soon.)

Recently FIERCE surprised me with this lovely Awesome Blogger Award.

I got an award! Can you believe that? I barely lifted a finger and I was awarded for it! (Actually I barely lifted two fingers - as I am a gifted hunt and pecker... what's up with you people who use, like, ten? pffft. waste of energy. me and my two fingers can get an entire post up in less than a week.) Yes, I was presented this wonderful little award for doing - not much.

Don't you love those awards which require little or no work of the recipient? Me, too. No Q & A. No thoughtful reflection. No neck/chopping block action. Well, come to find out...

This award is not one of those.

Nope. Winners of the Awesome Blogger Award have to get up in front of the class and explain a few things. They have to tell their secrets and then name seven other bloggers whom they feel are Awesome Blogger Award worthy, too. (like I'm suddenly an expert?... the hell?...)

Well, I'm going to play along here because FIERCE has obviously placed a great amount of weighty responsibility on my blog shoulders and I don't wanna look like I'm buckling under the load. But know that I am seriously fidgeting behind this podium and that soon you will probably be fidgeting behind it, too. Now with no further ado -

Thank you so much, Fierce! (for making me get off my ass. Mark tried and couldn't do it with a crane.)

Here are seven things about me that my wonderful readers may be dying or not dying to know:

1. My man is a National Geographic Explorer. IKR? I am a National Enquirer Explorer. He's tan and weathered and I'm fluffed and feathered. We really make no sense, but we totally rock the casbah!

2. My imagination is Vi-VID! and I always remember my dreams in great detail. Not only do I not watch scary movies because I am a chicken, I even hide in the kitchen from their previews on tv. All I need is the general idea of a psycho plot and what my head'll come up with would give Rob Z or Quentin T nightmares. It is ssso scary, living with my brain.

3. I brag. Oh wait. You knew that. But I only do it on my computer. Face to face I am a reasonably self-loathing person (disguised as a social butterfly, just like the next guy.)

4. I get girl crushes on lesbians that look like hot guys. I know - go figure.

5. I really miss my mom and my dad and my dog. They all got old and died. I never broke down about it (which really worries/frightens/makes flinch those closest to me) but I wish they were all still here.

6. I struggle to not hate hate-mongers. (Fox News raises my blood pressure and makes me want to see dead people! - but only a specific few. OK, not really dead. Just afflicted with some serious tummy aches. I guess some of you may already know that about me. Sorry for the violent outburst.)

7. My favorite CD in the history of Earth is Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. Old stuff I know, but hey - that's me. That's how I roll. So imagine my surprise when I became stupendously addicted to... you're not gonna believe this...
SHe. Daisy. Yep, but only their rendition of Jingle Bells. Yeah, Jingle Bells. Trust me, this one's got me stumped, too. For some reason, that song can just take over my entire body and make me happy to my toes. Another mystery to me. (The song should so totally be used in anger management therapy.)

Still there? Thank God ... we all survived it. I apologize if #6 creeped you out or made you think I was goin' all rogue on ya.

OK, so now I will pass this AWESOME BLOGGER AWARD to the following newly discovered (by me - which is not to say that they are new - just new to me... mmmkay?) bloggers.

Awardees, here are the rules you must follow (a small price to pay for such an award!)

1. Thank the presenter of your award.

2. Copy the award.

3. Post it in your blog.

4. Tell us 7 things that your readers don’t know about you.

5. Link 7 new bloggers.

6. Notify winners of the award with a comment on their blog.

7. Keep being an awesome blogger!

AND THE WINNERS ARE... (when I call your name, please stand, take a bow and give us a little parade wave) ***drumroll please***:

1. Always a Drunk, Never a Bride...
2. Only One Way Down
3. Everyone is Entitled to My Opinion
4. Beauty School Dropout
5. Asleep Under My Desk
6. Low-Water Mark
7. A Bad Case of the Dates

Congrats guys! You're great! Now review the rules again, pass this award and write on...

To My Not-So-Married-at-the-Moment Friend, With Love

OK, so I get a semi-frantic call the other night from one of my closest friends (like since-the-FIRST-era-of-halter-tops-bell-bottoms-and-lava-lamps close.) She is a currently unmarried friend and her semi-frantic call was regarding ... let's see if you can guess ... a man. I know. It's inconceivable. (Side note before we go any further, let me say that I love men. So though this post may read like an anti-guy rant sporadically - it's not, mmmkay?)

Now it's important for you to know that this friend is like my sistah. I'm totally in her corner - that's just how I roll - but reality is calling. So to say that she has trouble with relationships is like saying the Titanic had trouble with cold water.

Anyhow, she and this guy (we'll call him Atty) have dated on and off for around a year and with regard to their relationship, she's suddenly starting to feel a bit of pressure to either do something or get off the proverbial pot. (I think the pressure is coming from that nagging little 'you're not getting any younger' voice in her head.) But at this point, we are not sure that Atty even wants a committed relationship with her. So her concerns - which I would optimistically refer to as RED FLAGS THE SIZE OF TEXAS - may be irrelevant anyway.

I tell her that whenever I'm feeling pressure to take action, I take that old tried and true approach - the Pro & Con List - and I suggest she start by trying that. Everything gets quiet for a few seconds while she's thinking. Then she begins to rattle off a few of the reasons that she believes any type of exclusivity with Atty could actually be harmful to her health (as in she could stab him, be convicted, go to prison - unhealthy).

Here are a few of her concerns:
1) Atty is super stingy with his cash and rarely pays for her food/drinks/discount movie tickets (he even pulls that lamest of caveman lines, "Oh no. I musta forgotten my wallet. So-rrrry.")
2) Atty places his kids above her on his list of priorities (hey - his children have their own mortgages now)
3) Atty places his three dogs above her on his list of priorities ("can you take your own car - I'm bringing Hewie, Dewie and Lewie in mine"...)
4) Atty never cares if they wake up together, and has even indicated that it's ssso much 'easier' if they don't. (he probably leaves his socks on)
5) Atty makes little effort to initiate getting together or dates (what do you even call that? lazy? brilliant?)
6) Atty runs and hides in the closet when talk turns to their relationship or any associated feelings (he fidgets, whines and eventually doubles over in pain if the word 'love' looms - clearly not a chartered part of his vocab)
7) Atty never sends her anything (no sweet emails, no funny cards, has never sent even one flower (really? this guy is from which century? which planet?)

Ahem. Ahhhh-HHHHEM. Are you kidding me! I'd fall over and look like a flounder if I subjected myself to so much lop-sided action.

Ok, it would seem stunningly obvious that this guy is just not that into her. But did I mention that when they are together, he parades her around his friends, business associates and family, and is the king of the PDA? Yeah, so there's that. And then there are the numerous times she has tried to finally classify this farce as a failed launch attempt and move on. When that happens, Atty has a fit and emphatically begs her not to do it. He never makes her any promises of change, he just sits up and begs like a poodle. And she sits down and buckles. Like a noodle.

I know. This whole thing is nuts. Hell yeah, I wanna slap her but she's bigger than me. (Plus she'd probably scream like a girl.)

Let us repeat: GIANT RED FLAGS. TEXAS. Times seven. Scratching my head. I ask her, "So is there an up-side to your relationship with this guy?"

She responds, "Yes there is. I really like him." (OK. This is good. That little 'like factor' will come in handy when the Depends show up.) She adds, "He's tall and fit - like me, he's good-looking and we dance well together. He's successful, he has a cabin on a lake, and we laugh a lot." (OK, I totally get that one, too. Lots of laughter in any relationship can extend it's shelf life and trump almost anything - especially if you're stuck in a cabin on a lake. But note that I said 'almost'.)

You see, there seems to be an underlying 'but there's something MAJOR missing' in her tone. So next I ask what she feels she is bringing to the loveseat or why he should want to commit to her. She then launches into (dare I say... yeah - it totally was...) a frightening little diatribe about what a great catch she is. She says he doesn't know how good he's got it with her. I asked for some examples.

She lists:
1) I am an off-the-hook, amazing cook (this I know to be fact - truer words were never spoken)
2) he would never have to clean his house again (... k... but wait... isn't that why God made Merry Maids?)
3) I have terrific friends which he enjoys (nice. but will not increase his life expectancy)
4) I will perform any sex act he wants (waitwaitwait. stop the car. really? any sex act? my, that's quite the little bonus item. you swear?)
5) well, I will perform almost any sex act as long as I'm in the mood. (truth comes out)
6) the sex is fantastic, so I really wish he wanted to do it more often. (hmmm. me thinks there's a pesky little contradiction in there somewhere)

At the end of her spew I offer a few words of 'me-wisdom' (which, truth be told, has resulted in more than one trip to the ER - this one may be for me) and I am SO hoping that afterward, the proverbial rays of light will shine down on her from the heavens and the angels will joyfully sing, "ah - AHHHHH!"

While she's regrouping, I see an opportunity to say, "Pick your poison, Cupcake. Either accept the crap and enjoy the good stuff, or split that atom, fling open the door to your lab and yell, "NEXT!"

I remind her of our buddy, Jeff, and his fav t-shirt which reads All of the perfect and available men are GAY... Yay!

I took a breath, allowing her to get a word in edgewise. Nothing. Good. "As I was saying, do you really think that a man is looking for a relationship that will clean house or cook? Seems to me that any man that you would want, would want an interesting, reasonably independent woman who can have fun, is low maintenance, and will never, ev-ER corner him to talk about 'feelings'."

I added, "Do you really want to keep searching/dating (something that she is not all that great at - so I'm hopeful that this long overdue convo will carry on peacefully and end well) or do you feel that the pros with Mr. Atty - he's an attorney in case you hadn't guessed - outweigh the cons? If not, then have him draw up a restraining order and present it to him."

Then there's dead silence. Uh-oh.

"So whadaya think?"

"....."

"Are you still there?"

"....."

"Hello?"

"....."

"Hello?"

"....."

"You. did. not."

Damnnnnit! She did. She went and hung up on my advice.

(I'll let you know what happens when she calls me back - in a year or two.)