It's Not Enough That You Love Blow and I Love Puff

I really wanted to just sit down and write last night. This is nothing new, of course, but the evening slipped away. I was much more interested in goofing off, chatting with friends and family and working out. Okay, that last one is a lie. MathMan had to drag me kicking and screaming to the gym, but after I got there, I was fine. Fine. I was fine.

Last night, I was unfocused. I was the puppy chasing bubbles. The kitten going after the elusive moth. The ping pong ball turned loose. On the internets. First, I had to check out all my usual places. Then I opened the story I've been working on in Word and stared at it for two and a half minutes. Then I checked Facebook.

I swear, Facebook is like the Dairy Queen parking lot when I was a kid. You circle enough times and you just know you're going to see the people you want to see.

At one point, I was led astray, in a good way, by That Cracker Queen Lauretta Hannon who wanted me to tell her whom I prefer - Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn or George Jones and Tammy Wynette. Which meant, of course, that I had to go looking at youtube duets so that I could give a measured response. Because I'm all about calm, cool, controlled, well-thought out answers. You'll have to friend Lauretta to see my answer. Sillies.

Then my good friend David Sirota, yes that David Sirota, wanted me to tell him who I thought was a perfect example of a true narcissist - someone who is actually famous for being a narcissist. Oh, famous. Sure, make it hard. Well, heck fire, David. You mean besides me? I suppose I could give you the names of a couple of old boyfriends, but why should I draw any attention to those narcissists? I'm no enabler! Let them get their own damn press.

Wait - I have to tell you this story about Facebook. It can be used for good and not just evil. Allow me to demonstrate:

I went searching for the woman in the picture above. Her name is or was Bonnie Flowers. I worked with her at AARP. She is one of the wittiest, funniest people I've ever had the pleasure to know. I regret that I did not stay in touch with her. So I tried Facebook. I found a Bonnie Flowers, looked at her picture and was OMG! There she is!!!!! I sent a friend request, she accepted and then I was all wow! it's Bonnie!!!! Except it wasn't that Bonnie Flowers. The resemblance is striking.

But here's the thing. And I use the phrase bless her heart in the sincere way, not the other, passive-aggressive mean way. Bless her heart, Bonnie Flowers sent me a Facebook message that essentially said "Who are you and how do I know you?" I was struck by her honest approach. Struck in a good way. Perhaps I should have used the term impressed. Anyway, I'd already figured out by her profile that I didn't have the correct Bonnie Flowers, but I was too embarrassed to say anything.

A few days go by and after reading some of Bonnie's status updates, I think "I really like this woman." She's full of heart. She loves animals. In fact, she'd fit in well with some of my dog-loving blogger friends. I'm looking at you, Suzi Riot. My new friend is interesting and funny and sweet and kind. I like her. Now I know two Bonnie Flowers. I just need to find the one from Chicago now.

Okay - here's a story about the other Bonnie Flowers. She and I were "hired" to do some morale building at AARP during a time of stress and change. We decided to do a video chronicle of the build out of new offices. It was a time of physical and mental upheaval.

One day, I was running the video and Bonnie was interviewing people. She was definitely the on camera talent. She's interviewing the woman who was our Big Boss. She asks this woman, who once ran the Department for Senior Citizens Concerns or some other BIG thing for the State of Illinois. Now she was our boss. Bonnie asks, "So, Jan, is it true that you intend to make the motto for the new Midwest Regional Office I want to rock and roll all night and party every day?" and then, thrust the microphone into the Big Boss's face.

I nearly peed my pants, but I was pretty big pregnant with Nate, so that was my excuse.

After years of working in offices, I now know that every office needs a Bonnie.

See how cool this social networking is? If you're willing to let people in just a little, you can find that there's a whole lot of good out there. Good and smart and funny and interesting. We're inundated with bad news. It's nice to know that there's a whole lot more of the good stuff than we're led to believe.

So now I've got a new friend. And we're on a quest to find the woman who shares her name. I love when life presents you with stuff like this.

Sermon over.

Sometimes, it's good to take a step back, a breather, a moment to visit with friends who tell you that Sherman marched right through your house. I mean, his army didn't march through the house - it wasn't here - but they went tromping and burning right through where this house stands.

Turns out, there is all kinds of Civil War (or the War of Northern Aggression, dependin') history right here in our little slice of Georgia. I've been very slow to learn about it. Maybe because I was a transplant and didn't want to seem like I was gloating? Or maybe because I've been much too busy living inside my own head. Either way, it's nice to have a minute to find out something new. Thanks to Kim for taking us over to Tilly's farm to see the old iron bridge and grist mill tonight.

Well, folks, this post is like walking in on a conversation, isn't it? I apologize. This is what happens when the mind races and the track goes all cattywampus.

I mean, just now, I'm hanging out at Rev Coffee, waiting to go to a luncheon meeting. I've got itunes open and my headbuds in, but have I clicked play? Duh. Toooooo decisive. The cinammon bun coffee is good, though.

You know what's fun? Watching men watch women.

Tune in next week for my version of What in the Heck Is That? Could be meat, could be cake*.....

Until next Wednesday,

Lisa

*Man, I miss George Carlin. Can you imagine the fun he'd have with the Teabaggers?