Good, Better, Best - Never Let it Rest - Till Your Good is Better and Your Better is Best

And the award for the longest post title goes to:

I am notoriously bad with awards. I apologize. I am always thrilled and honored to receive one, but I am ridiculously bad at passing them along. I never want to single anyone out.

Also? Often the attached memes are difficult for me. Things you don't know about me? Hah! I am such a naked blogger my computer sometimes blushes. Then it offers me a robe. Because not all naked is good.

Recently I have been honored to have been awarded with the following accolades. I know for sure I am missing one or two and I feel bad about that - I think I received a couple when I was on vacation and I was just off my schedule then. If you gave me something and I did not respond, shoot me an email and I'll rectify.

So, without further ado, here are the awards:

JennyMac at Let's Have a Cocktail? She thinks I give good blog. Yes, well, erm, uh... blog! Oh BLOG! Thank you, then! She gives good blog, too.


This one is to be passed on to four folks who I think give good blog. They need to then pass it on to four folks who they think give good blog, and so on, and so on... Eenie, meenie, minie moe; I pick:

1. Kel at Housewife Savant
2. Ginger at De-Composition
3. Mary at Shaking the Tree (welcome her back!)
4. Sandy at It's a Jungle Out There

Melissa B. at The Scholastic Scribe? She thinks I'm a Superior Scribbler. High praise, from the original Superior Scribbler herself!


The rules for this one are:

• Each Superior Scribbler I name today must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
• Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
• Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains The Award.
• Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor.
• Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog

I'm passing this along to the following Superior Scribblers:

1. Alex at Please Try Again
2. Mama-face at Blog Ignoramus
3. MiMi at Living in France
4. The Redhead Riter at, um, The Redhead Riter
5. Sparkle Farkle at Sparkle's Soup of the Day

Vivienne at The V-Spot? She inspired the title for this post, actually. She agrees with JennyMac that I give good blog. (What a loquacious little ho I am, no?) and she also thinks I'm worthy of the Best Blog award. Holy buckets, my head is getting big. (Comments about head and giving good blog should be kept to yourself. It's the polite thing to do, and I'm all about manners.) As far as good and best go, Viv, takes one to know one!


The You Give Good Blog award I've already passed along.

The Best Blog Award, I would like to pass on to:

Jenny Penny at Welcome to My Momplex

Last but not least, Freegal1000 (you may know her as Ella Numera Dos), at Moo? She thinks I'm Honest Scrap material. She's just getting started in this bloggy game and she is a superior photographer, so you should definitely pay her a visit.



Here are da rules:

1. “The Honest Scrap” award must be shared.
2. The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves that no one else knows.
3. The recipient has to pass along the award to 10 more bloggers.
4. Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
5. Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.

I'm going to pass this along to the following deserving folks:

1. TeenAngst at My Sharpest Lives ('cause she's my daughter)
2. Shelby at Keeping Up With Z ('cause she's my niece)
3. Liv at Dark Chest of Wonders ('cause she's my other daughter)
4. Tom at Adventitious Cerebration ('cause he's my husband. Thus ends the nepotism portion of this awards blog.)
5. Mz. Behavin' at positively neurotic me
6. Anita at A Wife, A Woman, A Mom
7. Carma at Carma Sez
8. Scrappy Sue at My Home Wellingtontown
9. Unknown Mami at, um, Unknown Mami
10. Gibby at Lost in Suburban Bliss


In response to the requirements of the Honest Scrap Award, and without further ado, here are:

Six Things You May Not Know About Me: The Athletic Edition

(That's right. Six, not ten. I tried to make 'em count, though, for what that's worth...)

1. Doing 'the athletic edition' was inspired by Mama-face's post about her son's climbing adventures. It reminded me of something my very best and oldest (and by oldest, I mean they've been my friends the longest, of course, not that they're old) friends don't know about me. Mama-face knows, 'cause I told her in her comments. When I was a young 'un, I wanted to be a mountain climber. I loved the mountains and I loved hiking. Seemed like a logical next step. I obsessed about it for more than a couple years. I read voraciously on the subject. Now no-one say "it's never too late". It is. It's too late. And that's ok. But it was once a dream.

2. In elementary school I had a well-intentioned gym teacher who let me bounce a big red ball when I had trouble dribbling a basketball. His goal, I realized once I was a teacher myself, was to allow me to experience success. The actual result was that I felt humiliated and singled out. If they'd offered remedial gym, I would've been a candidate. Man, I hated gym.

3. I hated gym so much that in college, when presented with the prospect of 2 semesters of ROTC or 3-4 semesters of gym to fulfill a requirement, this junior peacemonger, this future pacifist, signed up for ROTC. It was 1980 and I couldn't have cared less about the ROTC, I was fulfilling a credit requirement and skipping gym. I didn't wear the requisite T-shirt under my uniform, which, by the way, I unbuttoned low and popped the collar on. Suck it, gym class.

4. I was on the girls' track team in its inaugural year at my high school. I had no business there. No. Business. At all. I was a disgrace to our team and I knew it. For what it's worth, I DID work hard. I practiced. I tried. I was never gonna get a decent time on that 220. Just wasn't gonna happen.

5. I love to walk, but hate the treadmill. I don't even try to run anymore. An attempt would almost assuredly result in (worse than they already are) shot knees (and black eyes). I used to dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail. It may actually NOT be too late for that. But I'd need to sleep in a real bed at least every third night and any night it was raining. And also if there were bears.

6. Once? In that elementary school that didn't have remedial gym but should have just for me? I ran the wrong way for a touchdown in flag football. Yep. I was THAT kid.

Oh, and here's a little additional perspective for free: My dad was a jock in high school and college (four letterman, held the pole vault record until they introduced spring loaded poles) and a coach later when he became a teacher. Let's just say I was never the golden child in our family.

Ah, my head feels much less inflated, now. Nothing like a humiliating revelation or two to keep all the award hubbub in perspective.

Did Someone Say Fabu?

Warning - cussing, cussing, and more cussing in this post. And then I cuss. A lot. If that offends you, shoo! Come back tomorrow when I'll be more my sweet temperate self. If that doesn't offend you, read on!

Ok, I've tried to be modest, but it's true. I'm fucking fabulous. At least my blog is. How do I know? Same way I know everything I know. Someone told me. In this case, two someones, specifically MzBehavin at Positively Neurotic Me and Mimi at Living in France. They are both pretty fucking fabulous, too, if you ask me.


Man, that was a lot of gratuitous fucking cussing for one of my posts! I usually try to keep the cussing minimal, for maximum impact. (On the blog, at least. I can hear the people I know in real life snickering, because in real life maximum impact is apparently something I go for a lot. A whole fucking lot.)

Anyhoodle, if I haven't already offended your virgin ears - or - er - eyes too much, the requirements of this fu - oh, forget it - it's not even fun anymore. The requirements of this award are that I share 5 current obsessions and pass it along to five other blogs with a similar level of fabulosity. I'll share my obsessions - I've got nothing to hide - but I never like singling out anyone to pass an award on to. If you're still here after all the cussing, you're fucking fabulous. If you've left me comment love, you're fucking fabulous. If you've clicked my 'follow' button, you're fucking fabulous. Take it - it's yours. Now on to the obsessions:

1. I am obsessed with the upcoming Alice in Wonderland movie. I have devoured every little morsel that has been leaked with gusto. If you've read my profile, you know that a Tim Burton/Johnny Depp/ Helena Bonham Carter project has never ever failed me. This one looks astounding. I have a very important date in March. An important date in 3-fucking D! March is so faaaaaaar!!!!!

2. I am obsessed with aging. I think about it all the time. That is sometimes as negative as it sounds and sometimes it's downright positive, but it is never far from my mind. My fucking mind, to those of you who are fabulous.

3. I am obsessed with bags. No, not beautiful, expensive purses. I can walk by Kate Spade without a glance. Coach? You have no more power over me. Ok, I did spare a quick peak at the Henri Bendel bags in a display window recently, but it was just a quick peak. I didn't, you know, touch them or smell them or anything. I'm talking about bags. Reusable shopping bags. I've spoken about this before. I don't know why I love the darn things so much, but I do. I buy them all the time. And now that festival season is upon us, a lot of folks are giving them away for free. For FREE, ya'll!!! I have big ones and small ones and some that fold up in my purse. I have some for grocery shopping and some for clothing/other shopping. I have big insulated bags for cold/frozen food. Just call me the fucking bag lady.

4. I am obsessed with yarn! Anyone who knows me knows that I'm gonna embarrass them if they go into a yarn store with me. I don't treat yarn with the restraint I offer to fine purses. I touch EVERYthing. I smell quite a lot. I smell quite a lot of YARN, is what I'm saying. I PERSONALLY smell like a subtle blend of jasmine and sandalwood with gentle rose undertones. I don't even know what the fuck that means. It just sounded like it might be a nice way to smell. Ahem. But yarn - oh, I can't get enough of it. I would write an ode to it, if I were the sort of person who could write odes. Since I can't I'll just touch it and smell it and knit, knit, knit.

5. Lastly, I am obsessed with seventies and eighties nostalgia tours. Friday begins the week of a thousand bands. It's really just seven, but seven bands in seven days - well, technically eight days - is nothing to scoff at. But it doesn't sound as cool as the week of a thousand bands. We're kicking it off next Friday with the Prodigals. Saturday, Alice Cooper! Suck it, Mom! (That was for you, E. I hope you're reading. That's my nod to Suck it Sunday!). Wednesday, Joan Jett and the B-52's and Friday, Pat Benetar, Blondie and The Donnas. That is a whole lot of late seventies early eighties goodness. I am so fucking psyched! Watch this space.

This concludes my fucking fabulous post. I hope you have a fabulous fucking day. Tomorrow I return to my regular blog voice. Hopefully. No wonder people overuse the 'f' word so much. It is way easier than actually searching for a less base word to express one's true meaning...

Tagged! Booya!

Pam of Pam's Perspective tagged me. (And if you're not reading Pam already, scoot on over there and check her out. Go ahead. I'll wait.)

I have been asked to reveal thirteen things about myself that you wouldn't already know and then tag three other bloggers to do the same. As I am what they call a 'naked blogger' - I tend to lay it all out there - this might be tough. Those of you who know me in the real world - particularly those of you who have known me a long time probably know most of these things. Some of them may have popped up in the blog, I'm not completely sure. But in the spirit of the game, I've tried to pick things that are obscure or that I don't talk about a lot. Or that I do talk about a lot, just not in this forum. So I guess today I go from naked blogging to nekkid blogging. More naked than naked.

1. My middle name is Lu. That's right, try it on - roll it around on your tongue. Tammy Lu. To misappropriate West Side Story lyrics, say it loud and it's music playing. Say it soft and it's almost like praying. Ahem. It draws up a certain image, no? Tell the truth - whether you have an accent or not, you said my name with an accent. And it wasn't continental.

The story goes that my mother wanted to name me Anna Marie. My father took one look at me and said, "She's Tammy Lu." Wow. Thanks, Dad. When my sister came along two years later, Mom wanted to name her Michelle Renee. Dad said, "She's Wendy Sue." Yep. Tammy Lu and Wendy Sue.

There are people in my life who still call me Tammylu or Tamlu or Tamalu. It's as close to a nickname as I've ever come. It is said with such affection that I have learned to love it. But that took a loooooooong time.

2. I have a small tattoo of a treble clef on the outside of my right ankle. While the ink was still fresh, I fell in love with a bass player who has spent the last decade and a half trying to talk me into a bass clef either below it or on the other ankle. I might surprise him and do it some day. (side note - so now you know that 'Bass is life' who shows up in my comments from time to time is my handsome hubby - does that count as another revelation?)

3. If you want to make me weep - instantly - play the first couple notes of the theme music for 'Brian's Song'. I know that's a pretty big club - the got-way-too-emotional-while-watching-a-daggarned-made-for-TV-movie-about-an-athlete club. But I'm in it. Big time.

4. If when you read "weep - instantly" your mind filled in the blanks with,

"It's in D-minor, which I always find is the saddest of all keys, really. I don't know why, but it makes people weep instantly to hear it."

then maybe we need to hang out. Spinal Tap is my favorite movie ever and if you can quote it fluently and at random, I will probably like you even if I don't like anything else about you. My love for that movie goes to eleven.

My love for Christopher Guest goes to eleven. Maybe eleven and a half.

And I am seeing them unwigged and unplugged next month. Woot woot!

5. While we're talking music (sort of), my favorite song evah is 'Wild World' by Cat Stevens. It is so sweet and simple and it melts me.

6. That revelation being made, the next one might not seem like such a revelation at all. Ya see, I'm a rocker chick. I like pure uncut rock and I like it a lot. I like it loud and fast. Music, that is. Sheesh. You guys have dirty minds. You should be ashamed. Anyway. Yep, a hard rocker. That's me. Sold my soul for rock and roll. A hard rocker who swoons over - Barry Manilow. I have seen him a couple times. Maybe three. I don't know. (I totally know! It's three! And the third time I was in the backstage area when his limo pulled in and he got out and waved at me - maybe at the crowd in general, but I think it was probably just at me - and I yelled, "I LOVE YOU BARRY" and he blew me a kiss, so I think maybe we're engaged.) Truly, though? I have been to a lot of concerts in my day. Most of them, like I said, not exactly in this genre. I have never seen anyone who loves their audience the way he does. It is contagious and fun. I went the first time to appease a friend, but the second two times were all me. I'd go again, too! Don't you judge me...

7. I have a BS in Elementary Education and an M.Ed. in Special Education with a concentration in Early Childhood. I was well on my way to a Ph.D. in Early Childhood with a concentration in
Special Education when I got pregnant with Lea. I developed pre-eclampsia during the pregnancy and was put on complete bed rest for several months. School was obviously put on hold. I took another semester off when she was a newborn. I tried to go back the following semester. It didn't work out. I just couldn't find the sense in sitting in an ivory tower talking about hypothetical children with hypothetical issues when I had a very real baby at home who might be missing me right now. Heaven knows I was missing her. I have a friend who calls that 'uterus tugs'. I couldn't concentrate - none of it made sense anymore. School became so irrelevant for me. I quit - assuming I could always return to it when the girls were no longer babies. The urge to do so has never hit.

8. Rightly or wrongly, I assign a lot of value and importance to dreams. Most of my recurrent dreams are pretty typical and easy to figure out, but when I have a dream I can't figure out, I head straight for the dream dictionary.

9. I have lived in 9 homes in 5 states. I realize that that's a lot to some and hardly any to others.

10. One of those states was Texas. I lived there for all of 11 months in 1984-1985. I still say ya'll pretty regularly and when I get a little liquor in me, "fixin' to" has been known to pass my lips. Eleven months! Over twenty years ago! And the influence is still there. That is one strong-ass accent. Don't mess with Texas.

11. I cry every time the curtain opens on a show. Whether it's a Broadway show or a rock concert or a high school production; a ballet or the opera; you name it - that moment - that split second before the show starts - when all the anticipation is over - I get a big ole lump in my throat and am usually glad that that moment coincides with the lights going down. Because I am a big fat theater wuss. I've even had that reaction to long awaited movies and two or three times to TRAILERS for long awaited movies. Go ahead. Call me a cry-baby. It will only make me think of Johnny Depp.

12. My husband fixes my coffee for me every weekend and vacation morning - basically whenever I'm awake when he gets up. He brings it to me wherever I am. It is such a small gesture, but so very sweet.

13. I do not feel as old as I am and when my body reminds me, I get really pissed.

Well, there you go. Thirteen things. Brevity is not a stronghold, apparently. But that's something you probably already knew.

Now to tag three folks who haven't been recently tagged with this or something similar...

Tom at Adventitious Cerebration
Cassie at Eug
Mama-face at Blog Ignoramus

No obligation, guys, but if you choose to participate, I'll sure be reading!