So what do you think? I usually associate centennials with coins, small towns, and parades. I’d be completely down with a parade like the Sweet Potato Queens do it. They celebrate every March 17 with floats, wigs, and margaritas. I’m totally on board for something like that around here, but you know somebody’d be bitching that it was too cold.
So I deliberated over how to celebrate my hundredth post. Celebrating is a funny thing. As you probably know from reading my blog regularly, I am all about an excuse to celebrate, but people are weird about it. I always ask how people will be honoring their 50th birthdays, or their 6 anniversary, or the fact they got their last kid out of the house, or that they got knocked up with their first, or how they got a promotion at work, or made it through the year without seeing their heinous, drug-dealing mother-in-law. The crazy part is that I rarely get a good answer. Sometimes, I get a “we had a quiet family dinner” or “we went to Olive Garden” or “I laid around all day in my pajamas.” Okay, if that’s what you wanted, game on. But too often I hear the “we just got a new furnace so we didn’t really have the money to celebrate” or “the kids had a basketball game so we’ll do it another time” or “it really wasn’t that big of a deal.” The Hell! People wonder why everybody in our country is depressed. Well, that’s the reason! We work long hours. And we forget what’s really freaking important! If we don’t celebrate the victories, then when do we celebrate and have fun?
I know it’s hard to ask people to celebrate you and so often times, we don’t even mention our birthdays to others and certainly not our accomplishments, but well, I don’t think of it as celebrating me. In fact, it’s the topic of the new book I’m writing. I, personally, think of my precious effing moments and accomplishments as an excuse for everyone else to have fun with me. So…
It’s my 100th post. And it seemed like I should be philosophical or some shit, but seeing as how I say “or some shit” I probably shouldn’t attempt waxing philosophical. I pondered balloons and confetti, but the virtual kind isn’t nearly as fun. It’s like opening a birthday card with no money and no gift and not even a kick-ass note saying how fabulous you are. Then I saw that Obama got his own musical ringtone this week which would be totally feasible if I didn’t hate the sound of my voice, let alone if people used it to tell them they had a phone call! I thought about using my favorite 100 lines from old blog posts, but really, there weren’t even a hundred people that read some of them the first time through. I considered looking back with 100 things we never have to say again like “Un-uh. It’s your turn to get up and turn the channel for dad!” The thing is, I really don’t wanna think about that stuff. It’s like going to Living History Farms and realizing it was all just a little too familiar to life at the Bolton Carley farm. Plus, a hundred things? You’d be asleep by number 9.
What I realize is that I probably need to make myself a cult classic like watching Sixteen Candles or the old days when we went to JACS for Mexican night.
So what did I come up with? Well, in a week where Olive Garden declared bankruptcy, Brangelina announced they want to get married, and Pat Sajak admitted he used to get drunk and drive the Wheel, I wondered how I could begin to top any of that. The answer: I can’t, but I can take a page out of Lady Ga Ga’s book. Therefore, I may not have Little Monsters, but I have decided you, my loyal readers, need a nickname. So what better way to handle that than to ask you, my readers, what you wish to be call? Put it out there, boys and girls. Show me what you’ve got!