I Got the Old Blogger Bit Me Right in the Butt Blues

Man, what a Blogger global goof-up will do for a girl's e-mail inbox! "Hey, what the heezy?" "Am I nuts or . . . ?" "I know I saw a post! Where can it be?" Um . . yep, so Blogger strikes gain, but it seems system-wide this time, lasting longer than 24 hours, and with limited fixes so far. Some posts on some blogs are still entirely missing, some posts that had 40 comments now show 4, and the message currently on the Helpdesk is this: "We’re nearly back to normal — you can publish again, and in the coming hours posts and comments that were temporarily removed should be restored." On a friend's blog, the labels that once were there are there again, in reverse order from the original post, with no comma separators. Yow. Now, I'd be the first to engage in some civil disobedience or rabble rousery, maybe toss out something snide like, "Blogger eats boogers." But the last time I did that, I believe I was singled out by Blogger for grief, purposely applied to me.

Once the e-mails were cleared and virtual giggles exchanged, the question occurred to me: "What is a woman going to do?" Well, if I walked to Ross I'd feel good physically, I'd refrain from buying too much stuff I'd have to carry home, I'd feel some sun on my bones . . OK. Ross it is. Anyway, I have a task there: I am to buy a size 42H lilac and lace bra. Oh, no, this garment is not meant to be worn by me. It is not my size. I want to own the bra simply because it is a tribute to modern ingenuity and engineering. I talked about it a bit in a post that has now disappeared and will do so again if the past post does not reappear. It was suggested in commentary that I could use that bra as two fruit bowls, though I think I'll do this: line one cup with plastic wrap, toss in some salsa, put chips in the other cup ~ voila! A snack for 20.

I did find a few treasures for myself while shopping. One reason Jones New York keeps me as a satisfied customer is that disclaimer thing they do so well. For, you see, I needed make no mistake about it. I was getting 2 microfiber modern briefs, not any of those pesky microfiber old-fashioned briefs. WTF?? But at $3 each for $10 drawers, I'll put up with the designer's quirks. And then, the find of the day ~ MSRP $48. My price ~ $1.49. It's a beautiful 100% cotton nightgown made with attention to details such as flatted seams, embroidered information rather than hang-tags, oh! this is a lovely nightgown. It is not a nightgown any man would be likely to beg for, "Oooh, baby, put on that cotton one with the little pink rosebuds that only babies and grandmas wear - you know, the one that covers you from chin to toes and billows when you walk!" No, this nightgown lends itself to the cold evenings when the cats tuck in around me and I settle in with a good book, thinking just how grand that $1.49 ersatz negligee will feel against my skin.

I've always enjoyed doing volunteer work. Both Ex and I had our favorite causes we worked for, and we did some service as a family of three. I believe Amber thought all children spent Thanksgiving morning delivering meals to homebound people. When she was very young, she carried the placemats made by elementary school children and a flower for each table. Later she graduated to handling meals, letting Mom carry the small stuff and make the small talk. I have had incredibly poor luck in Las Vegas pledging myself to worthy organizations. I do not wish to overstate anything, but I think the general problem is that most groups need help and don't know what to ask the volunteers to do. At one huge charity's administrative office, the manager told me, "Well, all I really have is about 24 inches of filing to be done." "Well, OK, point me to the filing. That's why I'm here." I volunteered to take a group of blind people bowling once a week, guiding them down the street and through an afternoon of knocking down pins. Yes, I did have to have a serious talk with myself about how committed I might be to taking a group of blind people in the streets and then hanging out while they rolled. After watching a few frames of blind bowling, I decided I was up for it - it's a wonderful accomplishment and some of the bowlers are extremely competent. I cleared a pretty stringent screening process and got a lovely letter saying I'd be contacted very shortly. But I never was. I made a phone call of my own. "Oh, that volunteer coordinator is no longer with us." Um . . yes, but "I'm still with you. I'm volunteering." Oh! She said she'd get me a call right back. None ever came. What? How many people can possibly be offering to take on that task once week? I've walked maybe a bazillion miles and raised a lot of money for AIDS and breast cancer research in the big national events, but I have not so far been able to find a consistent local volunteer opportunity that pleases me.

Last weekend I took a flyer, most unlike myself, and served at a fancy-dress event to raise funds for Nevada Opera Theatre scholarships. None of my cautious concerns came to fruition and I enjoyed myself, even though the evening wasn't perfect. I learned all kinds of things. I can still do a credible charming, LBD evening chatting folks up. Sparkling water in a flute can pass for champagne, so I don't stand out. I can't tolerate too many nights out until 2:30 a.m. I got a buffet dinner valued at $45, though I was required to consume it in 12 minutes before show time - faulty planning by the event organizer. [BTW, yes, it did occur to me I could find a decent sit-down meal for $45 at many locations in the city, but that's not the point here and now.] The evening was a good thing to do, all considered.

For more than a year, I've kept an icon on my desktop for Acts of Kindness (AOK), seemingly a group very well organized, but not rigid in what it expects of its volunteers. There are a multitude of one-time opportunities in every sort of endeavor from helping babies or seniors, the disabled, community clean-up days, the arts and more. It appears one can pop in for an AOK event as fits her interests and schedule, with no regrets or recrimination. My friend has long been interested in every aspect of the performing arts, though I have not been. It was because of her involvement that I was asked to participate in last weekend's event. But when I saw this Sunday's opportunity to serve, I ran it past her and we're in! Yep, we're going to usher, greet or take tickets at a live performance of The Wizard of Oz in a wonderful outdoor venue. We've got the requisite black slacks and white shirts. We are capable of doing the requested tasks and then sitting down to enjoy the show. Wind and temperatures nearly 20 degrees lower than today's are predicted. OK, I'll wear the industrial strength hair slop and tie a sweater around my waist. As I recall, from some prior life, I like learning new things. And right now, I'm sturdy enough to go out and do just that.

In my ears right now: I'm feeling very JL today. I don't have any meaningful words to add to that.