Too School for Cool

So everyday I come into work 2 hours before anyone else in my office shows up and I often leave an hour after everyone else goes home. I am not trying to kiss ass or look better than anyone. The extra 3 hours a day are symptomatic of having ONE car that is a stick shift. I do not drive stick. Maybe some other time I'll talk about attempting to learn to drive stick, but even thinking about it always makes me wind up feeling defensive, slightly pathetic and mildly sweaty.

Even though we just bought a New (Used) Car, my husband and I still commute to work together everyday. It saves money, and gas, etc. My workplace is a fortunate 5 minute drive from my home, however my husband has a half hour to forty-five minute commute to his office. He drops me off at 7:30 a.m. so that he can get to work a still-respectable 5-15 minutes late.

As previously stated I check up on specific blogs/sites daily. I actually have a particular rhythm to my morning with 2 hours of solitude. Sometimes it's nice to have some time to warm up to my day, and sometimes I feel like I've been dumped into solitary confinement. Other times I become inexplicably paranoid, completely sure that a serial killer is about to walk around the bend of the dark-ish hallway ahead, posing as a businessman and no one will know where he put the pieces of my body when he's done with me. The morning after Greg and I watched "I am Legend" was the worst. I know it wasn't a particularly We're-Trying-Our-Very-Best-To-Scare-The-Shit-Out-Of-You movie, but 20 minutes into it you could find me with my knees up to my chest, fingers in ears, humming to myself and rocking with the urgency of a 5 year old who needs to go potty at the outset of a road trip. After entering the building that morning, I just kept looking for places where I would hide from the cancer-free killer zombies. If you're curious, I have settled for the storage closet on the fifth floor because it's high, has a metal door and a lock.

Anyway, I have, of late, been reading Heather Armstrong's blog (Dooce) for a little while now. I am the type of person who, upon finding something she likes, will expend exponential amounts of energy and attention on that one thing-- be it food, or music, or movie, etc. Let's just say I'm pretty sure Greg didn't learn all the words to Jason Mraz's "Geek in the Pink" voluntarily... it may have happened as a result of playing it 77 times in a row on a 7 hour drive to my parent's house. So I've been working my way back in the archives of Heather's Blog. I find her refreshing and funny. It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud from a TV show or a written piece - so it says alot that I've had to stifle (Wow, I really wanted to write "Snuffle") the occasional snort as a direct result of reading something about her boobs, etc.

When I like something (like a blog) enough, I am inspired to exit the comfy cocoon of passive consumer and Make It Known how much I like whatever it is I like. I just follow the philosophy that if it makes MY day when YOU tell me I'm pretty, then I'm not going to restrain the urge to tell OTHER people that THEY are pretty when the mood strikes me.

Thus, this morning, I wrote Heather at Dooce a short missive:

Hello Heather,

My name is Megan. I'm 23, married, working, located in Pittsburgh, and not yet a mother.

I'm a newcomer to your blog, and because I saw that you read all of your emails, I thought I might try to contribute to a brighter day, today, for you.

I love your writing, I love your 'tude. It's rare that I'll wish to snort a content's website like crack - but congratulations, I'm there with yours. I respect your battles with depression. Your baby girl is beautiful.

You have even made my life better. And here's why:

My husband and I like to read, out loud, to each other sometimes and whenever I find articles/blogs that I find to be hilarious, I share them with him. I was reading one of your entries to him last night as he cleaned up the umpteenth tiny puddle of cat vomit from one of our three adopted cats - and all of a sudden he flew through the dining room, landed in the middle of the living room in front of me and yelled "IT'S THE HAT!!!". To backtrack - We've recently been having a rash of delightful vomit gifts - Our cats don't usually have any issues at all, but ever since late April, we've been upchuck-surprise central. At around the same time the messes started, we had bought the cats some Cat Grass to 'help with digestion'. You would think we would have figured it out sooner, but about a month after we bought the grass we made the connection that they might be eating the grass and throwing it up. We were assisted to that speedy conclusion after repeatedly seeing grassy structures in the stuff almost every time. So we got rid of the Cat Grass. This did not rid us of our problem, so we have been studiously ignoring problem and just quietly cleaning up the messes as we find them. Then a few days ago, I read to my husband your entry regarding the straw hat you took to the beach that Coco tore apart and ate.

It took 48 hours for the information to seep in (We're just that quick), but when my husband burst into the living room he had figured out - ALL because of YOUR Straw Hat! - that our cats were eating his birthday Sombrero. (Yes, I made him wear a sombrero when we went out to eat on his birthday). Suffice to say that the offending sombrero has been removed from the premises, after an extensive follow-up investigation which revealed that a quarter of the decorative straws had been chewed off.

We never would have figured it out without you.

Eternally grateful (and impressed with the classy broad you seem to be),

-Megan

I didn't really have much of any hope of a response - I really just wanted to give the gift of a warm fuzzy feeling, because I'm that dope yo. Within moments, I had this in my inbox from Heather herself:

This is seriously one of the best emails anyone has ever sent me, and exactly why the Internet is so awesome. I'm so glad that my hat misery could help in your own dilemma. Thanks for sending this along, it was a great way to start my morning.

My first reaction? To call my husband and to squeal into the phone while he read both the emails I'd just forwarded to him. Why? Because it felt good to get an unnecessary and kindly response from a woman that can make me belly laugh over the internet. My second reaction? To read and re-read my message and her response.

At which point I deflated because there are at least 3 glaring grammar/etc. mistakes in my first email. Ridiculous. I bet she thinks I'm mentally challenged and wrote back out of pity. I didn't even catch the worst mistake until later in the afternoon:

I love your writing, I love your 'tude. It's rare that I'll wish to snort a content's website like crack - but congratulations, I'm there with yours.

First of all, I could have re-worded it. Second of all, Content's Website? What? Am I all of a sudden dyslexic? (Maybe I'm possessed because I really just wanted to write 'Ambidextrous' just then, because I couldn't think of the word 'Dyslexic'... and then when I could, I still felt compelled to put 'Ambidextrous'... and here I am telling you about it... Get Thee Away Foul Spirit!)

So I'm just going to dig a hole and hang out in there for a while. Warn me if someone cures cancer in the mean time.