I have an average of 12 readers for each post. I can name some of them: Sissy, Lulu, Virginia, and Suzie Q. However, I'm not sure about the others. An anonymous contingent of eight might not sound like a lot to you but it tickles me no end. I'm sure it's not Mom and Dad as we are having round 2,347 of "Just type in the address if you want to read the damn blog" and I can assure you I know no one in Romania. (Yeah, I check the stats.) If you feel like posting a comment and letting me know you who are, I'm thrilled. In fact--since Valentine's Day is coming up, why not be sweet and drop me a line? I make the following promises: unlike any contestant ever on American Idol, I will not refer to you as "my fans." Unlike my usual behavior after three Dirty Mothers at Quiz Night, I will not comment upon your wit and then ask if your Dad is seeing anyone. Finally, just as I remain semi-anonymous so I don't get sued/still get invited to places like Elvis One's Superbowl Party, I promise not to blow your cover.
You can refer to me as Zanne, let's just say it's short for Alexandra, a name which suits many but somehow is as pretentious on me as the other moniker my mother saddled me with. Ok? Ok. And yeah, I could spell it "Xanne" but it leads to too many comments about Xanadu and Xanax and was I a Buffy fan perchance? (Yes on that one.) Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus. The asshat nation I live in is setting off fireworks right outside my big picture window and something flew by which looked suspiciously like a severed thumb. There's a little screaming and a LOT of laughter. It's only eight-thirty in the morning. Pray for me.
