Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting...

...the official First Post of Rider's boyfriend (see the comments on the entry below). I was calling him the Fire Marshall* (which kind of makes me think of In Living Color, but we'll leave that one alone), but he has given himself his own handle. Apparently, he's "Hill-Billy." Don't let him fool you, folks. The boy is edu-ma-cated, with lots of letters after his name. He likes to poke fun at his home state, but he's about as dumb as...well, I can't think of a witty comparison, so I'll be refreshingly blunt. He's a very smart man, and also a bona fide Hero. Plus, he's genuinely enamored of my sister, so he can stay.

And since he's officially on my blog, he ought to know that I have three faithful readers to-date (and one of them is his date! Har har!). He already knows Rider (I assume). My other faithful readers are my friends, Cindy and Colleen. Colleen is an artist and writer whom I've known since the seventh grade, when we were both in love with Duran Duran. Cindy is my friend from Plattsburgh, a freelance writer, mom, and occasional porn star -- I mean "erotic fiction author."

So, welcome to my blog, Hillbilly. I hope you like it here. And all kidding aside, I was so glad to finally meet you. I'm glad you and Rider found each other, and stuck together. I'll admit that I was worried -- no guy will ever be good enough for my little sister. But any guy who buys me Coronas comes awfully close (hey, it worked in college, too -- just ask my husband!).

*I do know how to spell "marshal," but I'm making a little inside joke. Just thought I should tell you all, so you wouldn't worry that I will be teaching Future Generations...

Inquisitive bloggers want to know...

As you can see in the previous entry, I am getting spammed. It's not to the point yet where I will have to turn off the anonymous comment feature, but it's definitely grating on me. Why? Well, I wouldn't mind being spammed if these were literate spammers. My spammers are leaving intelligent tidbits like: "I read your blog and I found it inquisitive."

What does that mean, exactly?

Maybe my blog is asking them a lot of questions. Maybe just as they're trying to fall asleep, they are hounded by my blog. "Why is the sky blue?" "Why do penguins have wings?" "Can I have a drink of water?" Maybe my inquisitive blog is demanding the answers to major conundrums like stem cell research and cloning. Maybe it's so curious that the spammers want to choke it (hence the multiple comments). As I scroll back through my entries, I discover that many have found my blog inquisitive. So many, in fact, that I'm embarrassed. If only my blog could learn to behave in public! Now I'll have to spank it for its 'satiable curtiousity and send it off to the banks of the great, green, greasy Limpopo River (all set about with fever trees).

This may seem cruel, but it's for its own good. After all, it's only a matter of time before "inquisitive" becomes "impertinent," and I will not have a sassy blog mouthing off to me all the time. Blogs need boundaries. You can't let them have an inch, or they'll walk all over you. First it's the spammers visiting, then the weirdos (like the commenters on my "painted toenails" entry). And then, before you know it, your inquisitive blog is chain-smoking and drinking Smirnoff coolers while waiting for the baby to be born.

I. Won't. Have. It.

From now on, NO ONE better find my blog inquisitive. You can find it intriguing, stimulating, dreadful, daring, boring, intelligent, stupid, witty, or wise -- but "inquisitive" is off-limits. Think of the children, people. By God, think of the children.

Riders and Sharks

Rider is HOME!!!!!!!!!!!

She arrived ridiculously early in the morning. We, the crazy flag-waving family, were there to hug her to pieces. She was smart to wear her kevlar vest. I hope the dents we left in her will smooth out.

In other news, we met her boyfriend and I saw a shark. I wish I could include the video of me actually seeing the shark, because it is so damn funny (in addition to being fodder for the nightmares of years to come). You will have to just imagine it, gentle reader. We were standing on the beach, looking off into the beautiful horizon. Then my sister's boyfriend (we're going to start calling him "Fire Marshal," I think) jumped up and said something along the lines of "Holy crap, I just saw a shark." Now, he knows of my irrational fears (sharks and styrophobia), so I thought he was just messing with me. The video began the moment this southern fellow was saying, "Ah swear to you. May ah never walk another day..." And my face was all like, "Yeah, right," as I'm looking out to sea, and then my eyes went wide, my face went white, and I started screaming and running back to New York.

Gray ugly body and craggy fin, folks. In fact, it looked a whole lot like this:

*see note below


















Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly. But imagine, gentle reader, that you are on a sightseeing tour with your family, and a creature that inhabits your nightmares suddenly springs from the depths. Wouldn't you wig? Of course, I not only wigged, I clawed my way over the top of my family to get the hell out of there. Simple truth about Trants: I would rescue you from a burning building. I would crawl on all fours through shards of broken glass for you. But if we meet up with a shark, you are on your own.

My dad is convinced that it was a dolphin, but FireMarsh had a better look at it than I did, and he says shark. Plus, dolphins don't have bloody teeth. My sense of poetic justice demands that it be so. So 2006 starts out with the gift of Rider, and a warning from the deep blue sea.

And I am SO listening.

* In the interest of accuracy in reporting (even though I've never laid claim to such nonsense), I should tell you that the shark probably looked more like this:

Hello '06!!!!!!

Only five days into the new year, and it's already looking better and better. Guess what, internet fans? Rider is riding her way HOME! I can't go into detail, because I don't want Homeland Security a-knocking on my door (scary times we live in, what?). But I'm betting you that by this time next week, my little Rider will be back on U.S. soil.

And I will breathe such a sigh of relief that large volumes of carbon dioxide will be exhaled from my lungs. So sorry about the ozone layer. Can't be helped.

So, for those two of you hanging on my every word, I apologize in advance for the information black-out. I will be posting good news soon.