Saturday is the Party of the Year

Also, if you go to BlogAsheville right now, you can find the links to the surveys wherein you can vote and you might want to vote for me, or, on the other hand, you could totally vote for other people and not for me so I won't win any prizes because, after all, I do well with disappointment and misery and probably my blog will be the better for it. Hee. Like you would vote for anyone else. Like I would let you sit by me at lunch unless you vote for me and I have ways of finding out who you voted for, too, and if you don't vote for me I will so not be your friend anymore, just see if I don't.

That, in a nutshell, is why I actually kind of have problems with this yearly competition thing, but, oh well, it's happening and I'm nominated and just because it turns me into a psychotic raving ego monster is no reason not to do it. Except I don't think blogging is or should be a contest.

However, blogging, at least in this fair city, sure as HELL should be a party, and it's going to be, and you're all invited and if you email me, which you can easily do up in the right hand corner there, then I will send you directions, or you can go straight to the email address on the incredibly brilliantly fabulous work of art poster up there that I created and get directions thataway. However, you NEED to be there. I WANT you to be there. And I also want to find some totally adorable male type and leave that party posthaste (with him. Not because I get overcome and am unable to make conversation with cute guys and then I start feeling weird and freaky about it and before you know it I'm hiding under my bed with the dogs, often before the guy even knows I exist, no, that would never happen) but I'm alas not holding my breath. Still. Bring your single friends. Let's all help the hangover journals have a hangover that's, finally, worth every minute of it!