Velveteen Mind

Indignation and Defiance. A Bad Ass and a Donkey Butt.

During the week, I usually try to stick to non-meta blogging stuff and avoid too many memes and awards.  You know, just ride my high horse.  ;)  However, I've been having a little fun with my blog lately (as opposed to the pure torture it usually is?), posting my 100 Things milestone post and ranting about Bill Maher being a big flabby boob.  I've been using words like "dildo" and "masturbation" and not thinking a thing about it.  This is my home, right?  I can not shave my legs or clean under the fridge all I want.  Right?  I'll certainly clean up if I'm expecting company, but until then, let's just relax.

I forgot that I invited some company over. 

Said company poked their head in, saw the mess up in this joint, and left me a smug note on the door to let me know that they were here and did not approve of what they had seen.  In fact, they told me that the "quality" of my work was not up to par with the rest of their "resyndication network" and I could keep my "Satan detectors in the loony bin" talk to myself.  Thanks for playing.  Buh-bye now.

Oh haaaaeeeelllll no.  I know they di'nt!

Okay, they didn't actually say all that, but they did say something about "quality" and it wasn't that I was rocking it.  Granted, it was a form letter for their rejections, but still.  Apparently, I had submitted my blog to them for resyndication and forgot about it.  My name came up last week, they stopped by to check me out and see if Velveteen Mind was suitable for their network, and they found a bunch of off-color posts.  Oops.

I probably never stood a chance.  I failed to notice that they prefer posts that are "100-450 words in length."  Yeah, I might want to hang that one up.

Nevertheless.  I was denied.  Shut down.  Rejected.  Ouch.  But then...

Last time I checked, I don't write for the satisfaction of ass hats.  Nor for their approval.

All ass hats are now welcome to show yourselves out.  This is my house, mofos, and I won't be denied or rejected in my own house.  Okay, apparently I will, but I won't sweat it.  Okay, I will sweat it, but I won't internalize it.  Ya ass hat.

Now let's play some more.

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Remember a while back when I talked about being surprised at receiving the Nice Matters Award from Nell at meanwhile..., then again by Poot and Cubby, and finally by temporarily me?  I relayed the following conversation:

When I first saw it, this is what I told Nell:

Hey! Thank you! I am rarely called "nice." Too much attitude creates a force field around me that sort of makes that adjective just bump right off. I'm glad someone thinks I can be nice!

Nell's response, which I am totally holding her to:

I do think you're nice. But not in that goody two shoes way, more of a bad ass kind of nice. Maybe that's what the button should say...

Aaaawwww yeah.  She made the button.

Please tell me that doesn't rock?  I am Bad Ass Nice. 

Seriously, though, Nell is the Bad Ass Nice one.  Did you read her Saturday Squatters guest post?  The girl is a kick ass writer.  Love her.  So, Nell, I am officially bestowing my Bad Ass Nice button right back atcha!  You are one Bad Ass Nice blogger and I hope you display this button proudly.

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I also received another cool award a while back from Jenny at Absolutely Bananas.  She has mad Photoshopping Skillz, too, and pulled the following award out of her butt...  Her Donkey Butt, apparently.

An award "for blogs that rock your world.  Hard."   I loves me some Absolutely Bananas, so this was a real treat.

My world is currently being rocked by a blogger that I just recently found.  Total mom crush.  Total blog crush.  Total crush happening here at Velveteen Mind on moms are for everyone!

First of all, if I could look like Emery Jo for just one day, I think I would be happy.  Then her son's name is Ezra, which reminds me of our old neighbor in New Orleans who used to play in a band called Better than Ezra, so warm fuzzy feelings there.   Her husband looks like someone I would have dated, so yeah, more crushing.  Her blog looks like something I wish I had.  More crushing.  And her writing is not short but is sweet, in a sweeeeet! kind of way.   You know I love long blog posts.  Oh, and I can't forget that she has an eBay store featuring vintage clothing.  Ya'll, we are BFF already.   She just doesn't know it, yet.

She's also a singer-songwriter.  But I just found her, so I can't tell you if she sucks or not.  ;)  I'm betting not.

Emery Jo, you rock my world.  Hard.  Your blog kicks donkey butt.

Isn't it fun finding a new crush?  I found mine on cre8buzz, by the way, along with a couple of others, one of which I plan to write about this weekend, so stay tuned.  Cre8buzz is about to go live, too, so ya'll let me know if any of you want an invitation.  I'll be writing about it more next week, but I am absolutely loving it so far.

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Until then, that's a wrap on my party for today.  Continue raising hell in the comments.  Tell me about some of your new crushes.  Don't be shy...  do you have a crush on me?  Have you been lurking but afraid to come out?  Come on, tell me...  I'm a good kisser blogger, you'll be glad you did...

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*I reserve the right to pull these awards back out of my blog bling arsenal at any time I damn well please and pass them on to bloggers I want to recognize.  I still haven't given my nominations for my Thinking Blogger Award from a million years ago.  Ooh, and still have an awesome new Rocking Blogger button to pass around.  If there are some kind of crazy rules attached to these awards, you'll just have to deal.   Man, I better get crackin'.  And who has an "I (heart) Your Blog" award, because I so want one of those.

Bad-Ass Nice to be back!

What is that smell?  Good grief, the Queen left her fresh mait out the entire time I was gone?

I know Fenicle did not write "F*ck You" in nail polish on my bed!  Well, at least I'll have another good story to add to my own bed's history...  although it still can not rival that of Mrs. Mustard's. 

And what is this scattered all over my desk?  Playgroupie's rough drafts of thank you notes for some truly hideous baby clothing, meticulously edited by my favorite wordsmith, Dr. Bolte?

Maybe I can get Christine to use her freshly-dusted-off schmoozing skills to sweet talk Poot and Cubby's little Elliot into cleaning up this mess. 

We can make a party out of it!  JJ throws the best Truth or Dare parties, which would have been the best game to play while getting to know Sara rather than just drilling her over cups of coffee and cider.  Really, could you be friends with a non-coffee drinker?  It's a challenge, but she's so flattering, I keep her around.

Speaking of flattering, if you ever need a self-esteem boost, let me tell you, have over a slew of guest bloggers.  What generous compliments these girls were throwing around!  I should do this all the time (in fact, see the bottom of this post...).  I should also ask who I need to contact regarding payment on all of these $5 words I apparently use.  Is there like a minimum dollar amount I need to hit before they cut the check? 

If I were a real writer (as ya'll suggested a couple of times), I imagine I would meet my $5 word quota much faster, by the way.  I am, in fact, not a real writer.  Writing thousands of words and writing thousands of words read by thousands of people who pay you thousands of dollars are two very different things.

I'll take the compliments, though.  Any day.

Not only will I take them, I'd like to hand them out myself for a moment.  At the end of August, I was nominated for the Nice Matters Award by Nell at meanwhile..., then again by Poot and Cubby, and finally by temporarily me, one of the best new (to me) blogs I've found lately.  I loves me some blog awards, and I love them even more when they come in three's!

When I first saw it, this is what I told Nell:

Hey! Thank you! I am rarely called "nice." Too much attitude creates a force field around me that sort of makes that adjective just bump right off. I'm glad someone thinks I can be nice!

Nell's response, which I am totally holding her to:

I do think you're nice. But not in that goody two shoes way, more of a bad ass kind of nice. Maybe that's what the button should say...

I'm still waiting on the "Bad-Ass Nice" button (tap... tap... tap... ahem.), but fortunately Poot and Cubby and temporarily me both snagged a cool button for the interim, made by Something Baby Blue.  Here's where I hand it out to the nicest bloggers I know:  my Guest Bloggers!

“This award is for those bloggers who are cool people and awesome blog friends - those who bring tingly feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you’ve been awarded, please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award.”

How about 9?

Mrs. Mustard from Cheeze Whiz and Mustard wrote a hilarious account of the history of her girlhood bed (and by "girl," I mean, well, not "innocent young lady") and made me miss my own old twin and all of its own "funky" stories.

The Queen of Shake-Shake offered up An Illustrated Guide to Exercising Fresh Mait Authori-tay, which was exactly what her story of boob-grabbing fresh mait demands needed.

Christine from Watch me! No, watch me! wrote a post about reclaiming your optimistic self, the one willing to schmooze an old man for his sake and not necessarily yours, that just blew me away.  If I quoted every line I loved, I would be rehashing her whole post.  Here's just one:

And I'm stunned, wondering when exactly it was that I switched from that girl who found joy and fulfillment in a ragged old man's smile to the one who was annoyed by his bitterness.

Maybe it was the same time that my optimism gave way to being worn-down, when happy stopped being my baseline, when I stopped laughing at jokes if I already knew the punchline.

Fenicle deserves an award just for her patience.  When accepting her offer to guest post, I called her "Nicole."  Three times.  Good Lord.  I swear, I know the "it's French for Nicole" is a joke, I know the story behind it, and yet my decongestant-overdosed brain just farted out on me and spit out "Nicole" as her name when I emailed her.  Ugh.  Nevertheless, she wrote a hilarious post about her best shining moment when her own brain was firing on all cylinders and she was able to deliver the ultimate comeback on cue.

Sara from Suburban Oblivion wins the flattery award.  I think I'm going to print out her post and carry it around with me.  Even better, she pulled out the big guns and shared the story of the first time we met.  Insert dramatic romantic cheese music here.  I love the heart strings stuff, add a few compliments on how big my brain is (I'm laughing), and you had me at hello.

Jennifer from Playgroups are No Place for Children hid some of her dirty laundry here and revealed that she is not, in fact, a fan of camouflage for baby girls.  Um, no.  And for the record, I was hoping for some cussing!  I was aiming for an increase in my foul-mouth authority, based on your kind letters to Walgreens.  Damn.  Oh, and for the record, I do think she is an "amazing writer whom I emulate and envy."

If you weren't a fan of Dr. Bolte before, how could you not add is there a doctor in the house? to your Google Reader after her solid mini-dissertation on her continual pursuit of the mastery of words?  A girl after my own heart.  And she mentioned that she still writes letters.  Real letters.  On paper.  With a pen.  I'm in love.  Write me a letter, Carrie.  I promise I'll write back.

JJ from Gaining Balance then lightened the thinkyness factor and threw a Truth or Dare party!  She explored the party atmosphere that blogging creates, the bond and camaraderie unique to our community.  Oh yeah, she also handed out beer and weed.  What more could you want?  Note:  I am a total fuddy duddy and have never smoked weed, but had a strange attraction to people who did in high school...  no surprise that I let another one into my house.   (wink wink)  Okay, she might not really smoke it herself.  Man, this feels like a hole I'm digging.

Finally, Andi from Poot and Cubby wrapped up this little Squatters Fest with an offer to hire out her toddler for a variety of uses.  Having seen quite a few pictures of wee Elliot, I would be happy to take her up on her offer of a wacky party commenter.  Her post had me laughing out loud, a welcome return gift after my wonderful vacation.

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Huge thanks and compliments to all of my guest posters!  Ya'll rock!  Sure, my blog could have survived my absence, but that's no fun.  Whether it was getting to know new-to-you bloggers or seeing new sides of some of your old favorites, it was a lot of fun for me and hopefully for you all, as well.  In fact...

If you are interested in Squatting with the Thread-Bear sometime, drop me an email and we'll set up a time for you to mark your territory at Velveteen Mind.  You'll get the fun button (handiwork of Jules at Everyday Design) below as well as a featured link on my new permanent page:  Squatters.

Ya up for it?  Can you bring the funk, the stank, the funny, or the smahts?  Depending on the interest, I'll begin featuring a new Squatter every other Saturday.  To start it off right, I'd like to send a personal invitation to Nell at meanwhile... and Tempting Mama at temporarily me to be a couple of the first Saturday Squatters! 

Who else is ready to pop a squat with me?

Team WhyMommy: I'm All In, MoFo!

My husband, Maguire, has been poking around my cre8buzz profile, checking out my friends' pictures and their blogs.  He gets into an absolute clicking frenzy, I tell ya.  His favorites, so far:  moosh in indy and Oh, the Joys!  He thinks J at Oh, the Joys! is hot sex on a stick and has also decided that having a girl wouldn't be so bad after all, based on the hilarity that is the moosh. 

Sexy ass on the brain and babies on the heart strings is not a good combination, folks.  Not for me, anyway.  It's right around this time of the year that I tend to make babies, too.  Watch out.

And now for the segue that will make your head spin:  This all brought us to a discussion about breast cancer.

Wow, right?

While clicking on everyone's blogs, he asked me, "Hey, why aren't you on Team WhyMommy?"  Good question, my man.

For a long time, I saw the Team WhyMommy button popping up here and there and thought it was just one more lame social networking thing for stay-at-home moms or something.  Then one day, I finally clicked on it and realized that it is actually a support system of sorts for a fellow blogger that has inflammatory breast cancer.  Aah, breast cancer...

Every woman in my family has died of breast cancer.  I would say that the exceptions, of those that have died, are very few.  It is astonishing.  Deep in my heart, I think I do believe it will be how I die.  As it is close to me, I support breast cancer charities, peev people out by donating to charities at Christmas in their name (I know, roll your eyes if you must), and have a button on my Links & Blogrolls & Buttons - Oh My! page that, once clicked, will provide a donation toward free mammograms, at absolutely no cost to you other than a couple of clicks of your mouse.  Really.

Needless to say, I was just trying to find the right time to sign on to Team WhyMommy.  I figure tonight is as good a night as any.  I'm just in the mood.

Here's how it works:  You copy the Inflammatory Breast Cancer post at Toddler Planet, WhyMommy's home.  Add the Team WhyMommy button, and link back to both Toddler Planet and the Team WhyMommy RoundUp at Don't Take the Repeats.  And/ or just add the button and link to your sidebar and let your readers figure it out.  And then you spread the word. 

I'm all in.  Particularly because despite all of my experience with breast cancer, I didn't know about inflammatory breast cancer, either.  She just might have ultimately bought me some time.  Here's her story, if you haven't already read it:

We hear a lot about breast cancer these days. One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetimes, and there are millions living with it in the U.S. today alone. But did you know that there is more than one type of breast cancer?

I didn’t. I thought that breast cancer was all the same. I figured that if I did my monthly breast self-exams, and found no lump, I’d be fine.

Oops. It turns out that you don’t have to have a lump to have breast cancer. Six weeks ago, I went to my OB/GYN because my breast felt funny. It was red, hot, inflamed, and the skin looked…funny. But there was no lump, so I wasn’t worried. I should have been. After a round of antibiotics didn’t clear up the inflammation, my doctor sent me to a breast specialist and did a skin punch biopsy. That test showed that I have inflammatory breast cancer, a very aggressive cancer that can be deadly.

Inflammatory breast cancer is often misdiagnosed as mastitis because many doctors have never seen it before and consider it rare. “Rare” or not, there are over 100,000 women in the U.S. with this cancer right now; only half will survive five years. Please call your OB/GYN if you experience several of the following symptoms in your breast, or any unusual changes: redness, rapid increase in size of one breast, persistent itching of breast or nipple, thickening of breast tissue, stabbing pain, soreness, swelling under the arm, dimpling or ridging (for example, when you take your bra off, the bra marks stay – for a while), flattening or retracting of the nipple, or a texture that looks or feels like an orange (called peau d’orange). Ask if your GYN is familiar with inflammatory breast cancer, and tell her that you’re concerned and want to come in to rule it out.

There is more than one kind of breast cancer. Inflammatory breast cancer is the most aggressive form of breast cancer out there, and early detection is critical. It’s not usually detected by mammogram. It does not usually present with a lump. It may be overlooked with all of the changes that our breasts undergo during the years when we’re pregnant and/or nursing our little ones. It’s important not to miss this one.

Inflammatory breast cancer is detected by women and their doctors who notice a change in one of their breasts. If you notice a change, call your doctor today. Tell her about it. Tell her that you have a friend with this disease, and it’s trying to kill her. Now you know what I wish I had known before six weeks ago.

You don’t have to have a lump to have breast cancer.

P.S. Feel free to steal this post too.  I’d be happy for anyone in the blogosphere to take it and put it on their site, no questions asked.  Dress it up, dress it down, let it run around the place barefoot. I don’t care.  But I want the word to get out.  I don’t want another young mom — or old man — or anyone in between — to have to stare at this thing on their chest and wonder, is it mastitis?  Is it a rash?  Am I overreacting?  This cancer moves FAST, and early detection and treatment is critical for survival.

Thank you.

The Power of Schmooze Escapes Me

Google Reader is not my friend.  We used to be friends, particularly after it introduced me to its BFF Google Share, but I'm about to have to issue a friendship divorce.  Why?  Because it is screwing up my blog reading.  I swear, it is intimidating me away from reading your blogs.

Google Reader is a bully.

I used to visit all of your sites individually, taking great pleasure in your blog design, pictures, side bar bling, and linky love fests.  Then I decided that I wanted to use the Google Share feature to help make up for the fact that I don't leave enough comments on posts that I enjoy, so I started using Google Reader, my very first reader period.

Then I stopped visiting your actual sites.  And my commenting went down to next to nothing, which is really bad for somebody whose comment-leaving habits were abhorrent to begin with, let me tell you.

Then there's the whole intimidation factor of the "All Items" tally indicating the new posts waiting to be read.  I mean, ya'll post like three gabillion times a day, so it takes me forever to get the "100+" tally to go away at the top of my reader, indicating that I'll never make it through all of the new posts any time this year.  When I was just happily linking through my blogroll, I never knew what was waiting for me.  Granted, I also lost all track of time and three hours would go by without my realizing it, but whatever.  At least I was participating.

So now I miss all the good stuff.  I miss your new blog banners going up, I miss your new side bar bling, and I probably miss any fresh content, because I'm still trying to catch up on old stuff from last week.  And just forget about comments.   

Which brings me to a bit of good stuff that I didn't miss, but also didn't comment on when it came up:  The Blogging Community Involvement Award.  Or, as I keep thinking of it, the Power of Schmooze Award.  According to Jennie at An Experimental Mommy Life, I "NEED" this award.  Well, thank you, Jennie, but I have to admit that you have me a little confused. 

Do you mean that I need this award because I've got blogging community involvement skills (read:  leaves comments, in which case I would have to say that you must have me confused with someone else...?) or that I need this award because I suck so hard and am generally a blog jerk when it comes to staying involved?  This award would therefore be your form of positive reinforcement?  Eh?

Either way, I'll take it!  Thank you!  And you are right.

For the most part, I decided that my self-centered no-comment-leaving butt would accept this award because it would give me the opportunity to thank some of my more generous comment-leavers, not to mention thanking Jennie for her always thoughtful comments.  Something I should do more often, by say, either responding to my own comments or leaving comments on their blogs.  Imagine that.

Remember, though, I've been trying to prioritize lately.  Priorities, priorities.  I'll keep telling myself this so that I don't feel so guilty for not commenting more.

So now, about those awesomely involved bloggers out there, my role models:

Rockin' Lagniappe Linky Love

I just said that I am not a fan of labels, right?  Did ya'll hear me rant that over at Plain Jane Mom?  Well, uh, I changed my mind.  But just for today...

Oh, the Joys has wielded her Nominatrix whip once again and slapped me with a Rockin' Blogger award.  One label I will happily accept, thank you very much.

My favorite part is that the original name of this award is the Rockin' Girl Blogger, but Oh, the Joys decided that the "Girl" had to go.  I so love it.  Then she went messin' around with the badge, too.  Love it even more.  There's nothing better than screwing around with blog awards, right? 

Breakin' the law!  Breakin' the law!

Since I have been looking for a way to thank my generous commenters from Victor Vito, I'm about to start snapping my own whip around...

CharmingBitch is the reason I felt comfortable enough to even write "Victor Vito."  Her openness and honesty is startling, even jarring sometimes.  An incredibly welcome change of pace.

Sorta Crunchy blog mistress Megan (note the correct spelling, peeps) keeps me on track with my crunchy-mama aspirations.  Though, really, I'm only trying to be sorta-sorta crunchy.  Mostly soggy, but still.  I'm tryin'.

BOSSY at i am bossy is on the outs with memes, much like me, but if anyone is a Rockin' Blogger, it's her.  She is an absolute daily read, and if she hasn't updated, then she's a daily re-read.  Addictions are good when they are this funny, folks.  I'm sure you already read her, but this is my game today, so I'm whipping her, too.

Pass the Chocolate is one of my favorites.  I haven't been following a lot of blogs for long, but this is one of the first I got hooked on, no doubt due to its chocolaty goodness.  I'm always lovin' Shauna.

My ditto sister, Annie.  If ya'll aren't reading Blooming Marvelous, you should.  I think Annie and I share a brain.  We are usually right on each other's tails with blog content, which means that if you like me, you'll love her.   If I'm rockin', she's shreddin'.

Fenicle rocks.  Period.  Alternately hilarious and thought-provoking.  She wrote a post about abandoned shopping carts and I was hooked.  Ooh, and one about a woman returning a 50 cent toy she bought at her yard sale the day before.  I love it.

These next bloggers have already received their Rockin' Blogger or Rockin' Girl Blogger nods (those above may have, too, but I can't be everywhere all the time, jeez!), but I have to add my own linky lovin' to the mix anyway.  Because I can and I think they rock.  Not just because they threw some mad support behind my Katrina moaning, but because they got mad skillz.

Absolutely Bananas is just that.  Her Photoshoppin' skills are admirable and as soon as I can either steal a copy or scrounge up the dough to buy it myself, I'll be going to her for some "how do I make myself look like Angelina Jolie?" tips.

'Twas Brillig is a Rockin' Blogger in my book, if only for the fact that she was posting pictures of Christian Bale when I first found her.  I know I've mentioned that before, but it's worth mentioning again.  Christian Bale.  Yeah, Christian Bale.  (If you've disabled my SnapShots, you are really missing out.)  Back to Brillig, though, check out her new domain, give her grief for killing George,  and be sure to update your links, because she'll be checkin', ya'll.

And, finally, the Queen of Shake-Shake and Jennifer at Playgroups Are No Place For Children.   Yep, that's right, I'm nominating someone that already nominated me, as well as someone that was nominated with me.  Gotta a problem with that?  Huh?  Go ahead, say it to my face!  I am always thrilled to see my Google Reader light up with updates from these two blogs because just about everything they write strikes a chord with me.

That's it for today.  I have a handful of hot links left to share with you, but I'm going to share those later, along with a relevant follow-up post to "Victor Vito."  Yes, the drama never ends.  Neither does the gratitude.

Wrangle up some nominations of your own, ladies (I think it's supposed to be five, but whatever), and grab any of the buttons above, courtesy of Oh, the Joys!  Be sure to pop over to her site and check out the other options, as well.  Just can't leave well enough alone and I love it.

Lagniappe:  (lan-yap) from New Orleans creole; a small gift given with a purchase to a customer, by way of compliment or for good measure; bonus.