Welcome to Blogopolis, Mizz B!!

Can't talk, baking...and decorating...and wrapping...and cleaning...and...snzzzzzkxkxkxkx...

Wha...?

Who...?

Ahem.

I am baking up a storm, and getting decorations up outside, and hauling the Yule boxes up from the closet under the stairs (if Harry Potter had come here to live, he would have had to content himself with an ordinary bedroom or the crawlspace under the house - the closet under the stairs is full of...umm...I don't know what, but a lot of stuff, including my few seasonal decorations that I often don't bother with) and cleaning house because I have band practice here next Wednesday and also...umm...well, I have another reason to get the place tidy, but I ain't sayin' what...yet.

Anyway.

So, because I am clearly far too busy to write a blog post of any substance (hah!), I'm taking this opportunity to introduce you to a good friend. She's my band manager and booking agent, mother to K (the sister of my heart), a cruise agent, and generally full of the Awesome. Her name's Beth (I'm only telling you because she's got it on her blog, so it'd be silly for me to keep it secret, now, wouldn't it??), and she has a brand spankin' new blog. Go give her a look-see and let her know what you think, m'kay?

Welcome to the Blue Nowhere and Blogopolis, Mizz B - glad to have the company!!

Get it? Got it. Good!

See the post title up there? Do you know what movie originated it? And which actor played the title role? I do...but I'm not telling...yet. That's not what this post is about.

This post is about speaking in code. I realize that you're smart folks and cotton on fairly quickly to blogspeak, that curious mix of euphemism, nickname, and outright made-up words that makes up much of the lingua franca of the Blue Nowhere. Something over at Foolery sparked the thought, though, that I use a lot of inside language on this blog and in Mundania...and I thought "Hey, I bet I can squeeze a blog post out of this!", so here we are.

An incomplete list of slangish words and phrases I've been known to utter/write:

The Blue Nowhere - the Internet, the electronic world, the fabulous global madness of a million-billion little sparks of genius fused with madness, mixed with pornography and wiki-wiki-wildness that I often call my surreal home.

Blogopolis - the blogging community, a city-state of writing, reading, creativity, ranting, and connection that pulses with vitality, has a spirit of its own, and is constantly changing. In my head, it's broken into neighborhoods with no firm boundaries that interconnect with other neighborhoods through readers and writers, creating the whole.

Mundania - the world that is not The Blue Nowhere, wherein I must pay electric bills, wash dishes, do laundry, battle dust critters of varying ferocity, and interact with beings of flesh and blood.

The Evil Genius/Bird/Little Dude/the boy/the kid - my son, whose mundane name I will not use here, because apparently posting pictures of him in various states of dress and telling you every last detail of his life is OK in my book, but making his name public isn't.

T - my ex-husband, father of the Evil Genius

Fugeling - pronounced "fyoogeling" with a hard g, this is a code word we use in my family for "Hey, little dude, pull up your pants!". It's coined after a friend of our who has neither hips not bum to help hold up his britches, so they're constantly slipping down to half mast. He's a nice guy, great sense of humor, clever with his hands, and he's smart enough to wear a very long shirt tucked in so we don't see anything traumatizing when he bends over...and I like saying "Bird, you're Fugeling" instead of "Dude, plumber butt."

Wrestle the Yeti/See Mrs. Murphy/Visit the Green Room - euphemisms for visit the loo. "Wrestle the yeti" came from my theory that women go to the bathroom in groups to protect each other from the Yeti. "See Mrs. Murphy"...honestly, I have no idea. "Green Room" isn't a TV reference...it's because the port-a-lets at the track were usually green.

Fang Bug Barked - barking fang bugs are much like barking spiders, only deadlier.

Mum/Mommylady/Momlady - my mother.

Someone - a random weirdo to whom I have become quite attached.

Casa de Crazy - my home in Mundania, at least until I win the lottery, pay off Mum's land, build a house there, and move. Then...that new place will be Casa de Crazy, because the madness will move with me.

Redneck Central - the area of the world in which I live...somewhere deep in the state of Confusion...er...Georgia.

If I missed something you've seen here or heard me use, or if you'd like to share some of your own lingual oddities, leave a comment to that effect...or feel free to tell me I'm nuttier than a Claxton Fruitcake (that's pretty dang nutty!!). It's all good.

I Will, Too

Rick over at Organized Doodles did the above cartoon...go check him out, folks - he's delightful, his work is whimsical, and he often freely shares his work with his fellow denizens of Blogopolis.

Bru-Braja

Go here. Follow the nice lady's instructions. Help a good person feel/get better.

Thank you.

A Web

I was a point of light, a mote in the great vast void, a speck floating, suspended in darkness. Alone, lonely, I spun from myself a thread - so slender, so slight, so very fragile, my thread. As I spun, I flung it outward, silver strand reaching ever farther into the deeper reaches of the nothing wherein I dwelt.

For so long did I wait, did I wonder, did I spin myself smaller and thinner, stretching beyond imagination. For so long was I alone. I sang to myself, humming as I worked, forgetting, eventually, why I spun, why I reached beyond myself, continuing because...because...because...

Then came the day...the night...the moment when my thread found another, spun from some new, distant mote like me, hanging in its darkness, humming to itself and wondering why...why...why...

The shock of our meeting was such that we fell silent, struggling to comprehend what we had touched, what it meant. Slowly, tentatively, we explored the newness, the other light, the other song. Hesitant, we began to hum again, to spin, and our notes were a harmony, a convergence of color and sound, and from one alone we were two together.

We were stronger, together.

We began to spin, to reach, in other directions. The other found more, and so did I, and every new thread meant new connection, new understanding, a growing song. Every touch, every joining, made us more than ourselves, brought us vision beyond our small scope, broadened us, until we could not be contained in our small darknesses but burst forth, spreading far and wide, a great net of light and being, gossamer fine, adamantine strong, blazing in our quiet way, where anyone may walk without fear, knowing they cannot fall unless they leap, and we are above, below, around, and we will catch them when they call for us.

We are a web spun of great blazing suns and tiny specks that have never met, never seen, but we have listened, we have sung, and we have touched and joined and changed and grown into a great prismatic cacophony, knowing we exist because we reflect each other, because we can hear that faint singing down the line, the ethereal combination of vision and song that is the other and ourselves.

I am a point of light, a mote in the great vast void, a speck floating, suspended in darkness, but I am only as alone as I wish to be, for I spun, stretched, reached beyond my small space, into the deeper reaches of the nothing wherein I dwelt...

...and found you.