Congratulations to last week's first Tiara Pick - Skeletnwmn! Apparently, that is me awarding her the coveted crown. I look darling. She looks okay, too.

 Frank Indiana was my second Tiara Pick. Not like runner-up second; just like I picked two. I think he was really upset by my choice. I mean, look at the poor man, trying to come to terms with winning a prize second only to a Nobel Prize for Literature. He is rightfully overwhelmed.

 This was the first picture Frank put up. Bunny doesn't seem the least bit fazed.

 You know how we bitch and complain? Well, I certainly do ("You expect dinner again? I fed you last week! You can get another wear out of 'em, I'll do laundry next week!"). I'm not going to complain for a moment. I would like you to wander over to Duaneart's post, and read it. Even if you've already read it. He has pulled off an OS trifecta of wonder. A fabulous story, simply yet compellingly told, mixed with a brilliant formatting that makes my eyes so happy, and the art! This lad has serious chops. I know we knew that, but if his story doesn't poke at your very own heart a little, you're not an artist. And I know you are. You're here.

Bernadine Spitznogel is killing me. No, not like 'call the cops' killing me, but dip around in her blog and read, well, anything. Funny, funny lady, and makes me look like a Cordon Bleu chef. And June Cleaver. 

 I am not much of a wedding fan. And I can't even watch those stupid shows on TV showing the little tarts screeching at everyone to make their day speshul. Just run 'em all over with a back hoe (they could borrow one from Ty Pennington - I do watch that show, because I like to cry once a week as I'm being manipulated by an extended Sears ad). But a piece I would have actually thought I'd have found in the New Yorker is right in here, from Con Chapman. And it should be there.The New Yorker. Instead it's in a Friday Wrap Up from a minivan driving mother of two from the Toronto suburbs. I think Con might just go off and cry now...

Hells Bells This lovely lady doesn't post often, but when she does, it's definitely worth the read. For reasons some person who performs social experiments might find very interesting, there is a distinct concentration  of people in here coping with a circus tent full of mental illnesses. Either personally, or by degrees, the great elephant in most rooms gets dealt with here on OS with more dignity, love and acceptance than anywhere else I've seen. Please read this piece about her brother. 

Owl_Says Who spins a really wonderful bedtime story here. It's lyrical and sweet, but I love the images she finds in the gathering of kids to listen to Grandpa. If you want to stop being a grown up just for a few minutes, take a break with this piece.

I had a debate with myself this week ("Self? You know if you have another cup of coffee this late, you'll keep us up all night..." What - you don't hear the voices?) on where to put  Zyksander Jaimot. Well, his work.  He writes these amazing pieces of poetry that make me give a damn about football and baseball, and trust me: I don't give a crap about either. But then he pulls out this wonderful short story from his growing up years, and I realize for all his twisted comments (you need a secret decoder ring), the guy is brilliant.

Harry's Ghost -  here's a classic walk- away- and -give- it-a- think -later tale. I won't get all Joseph Conrad on you (though Harry might), but what lies at the heart of a man will always be his undoing.

C.K. Dexter Haven has the coolest post this week. A pack of family letters, written by parents and siblings to an older sister who bolted from home at 18 is a fascinating peek into the inner workings of a family. It reminded me of the first time I discovered what was going on in a Norman Rockwell painting. On the surface, they were obviously famous for their scrubbed clean Americana. But I remember years ago learning the construct of his art: every single line and angle drew your eye around in a very calculated way. You actually were never aware of what you were truly seeing. C.K.'s letters have that same quality. You're reading one thing, but the framework is something far different. Yes, I've been told I babble.

I've listened to a lot of parents talk. I've listened to a lot of parents judge. And every one of them should have to read this piece from jimmymac1025 , where every single one of us recognizes the gutwrenching fear of setting our kids free in the world, and living with the choices they make.

Speaking of choices people make, LunchLady 2 about broke my heart this week. Every lived with an addict? Every raised kids with one? I think this post cries because this dear lady has finally seen a light at the end of the tunnel and has realized it is the sun and not a train. I hope she knows we'll be here for her.

Polly Endicott has landed at OS with a bunch of searingly honest posts about being a mother. Put down the Gerber ads; mothering can rip your guts out, and very few women are going to be as honest about the dark side as Polly is. And it can be dark. But in our rush to perfect the state of motherhood, all we've done is isolate ourselves. Hold her hand and read the posts; then go forward with the knowledge that our kids need all of us.

Now, I know you're getting sick of me directing you to multi-parters (but, I was so right about Frank Indiana, now wasn't I?) but I came across this very cool 3 parter from Janelle Tapscott, called Mississippi Ghost Story. As it happened I just finished re-reading Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil so I was already in a southern ghost story kind of mood. Of course it also put me in the mood to drink at any time of day for no good reason. But that's not what Janelle's eerie family history story is about.

New Talent Alert: Rogue Spinster has arrived with some amazing posts. Wanna see a totally enthralling writer tackle a topic we usually run away from? I was initially drawn in because she said she was undergoing Dialectical Behaviour Therapy. I will admit, at first glance, I thought it said Diabolical Behaviour Therapy, and the last time I'd heard the word 'diabolical' was when I was watching Batman back in the 1970s. I wanted to find out what was so diabolical about this woman. She's not diabolical. She's just an amazing writer with an amazing story.

Hearing From The Poets

Oh, scupper is just floating with this word portrait. Go meet Fred.

Baby Girl, from hourglass figure,  is pretty heartwrenching in its simplicity. I sent it to a friend going through this. I don't send much from here. Mostly because you're all crazy whackaloons and it would take too long to explain anything.

 wakingupslowly creates a lot of really lovely work, but this one hung out with me for longer than usual. 

Thoth has written a poem called Heaven is You. That means it's me. I am heaven. Sigh. I'll even overlook a guy who is drinking so heavily he calls it hitting the thoth.

mikelkpoet writes a lot of poetry. And it's good. I hear this Steven Wrightish voice in my head when I read his his work that I call everyday dishes. You haul out the china once a year, but it's the everyday dishes you use as the backdrop to your life. His subjects are my everyday dishes. That made sense to nobody but me. Sorry. My blog, my spin.

Lemme tell you something about Art James, (the artist formerly known as Arthur James): at first glance you might think his poems were composed by taking one of those boxes of fridge magnets and throwing it in the air, and copying down the order the words come out in. But do yourself a favour and read his post I linked - nobody in here reads our work more closely than Art, and now he tells me what stars are for. One of the most generous OSers.

 There should be dozens of other poets in here. Please help me out and toss them into the comments for me. I am a bad rounder-upper this week, and I apologize for those I have left out. If we have a Poetry Editor kind of person, perhaps they could help.

 The Belly Button Bulletin

I just thought I'd mention something I've seen in passing in here, and experienced myself. Sometimes, in comments, first names are used that don't match account names. This can make you pause, and think, "only the innies know each other's names. This must make me an outie".

 Well, that's how I used to think of it. It's really not intended to create innies and outies. Some people just end up pming each other more often, and attach a first name to someone. It took me forever to figure out who the hell ' Barry' was (bbd), and 'Deven' (Freaky Troll Whateverthehellitisthisweek AND Tequila & Donuts), well, I wasn't sure why Deven needed so many damned names anyway. JK Brady is Janie, but some in here also call her General because, I believe, there was an invasion of the U.S. into Canada one night and JK won it for the Canucks. (I may have the facts scrambled; I wasn't invited to the invasion).

Cartouche was Patricia (well, she still is, wherever she is), and it took me ages to stop thinking I was pressing my face to the glass of a candy store with a locked door. "They hate me," I'd wail. Sort of. They don't. But I don't use anyone's 'real' name from a pm (nor anything written in a pm - that should go without saying - but it doesn't) unless they've used it themselves out here.

 So yeah, there are innies and outies on names, and jokes. Tequila had to pm me last week explaining something she'd alluded to, as apparently I'd just stood there looking like a dork (in a post), because I didn't get it. It was before my time, and we all know that Freaky will sell no line before its time. So she told me. Just ask.

I get called lots of things in here. But as I tell my kids, I've been called worse by better....heh.

John Blumenthal performed the biggest faux pas possible on OS: He wrote a l-o-n-g, fun, snarky post listing tons and tons of bloggers' names. I didn't count, but the list just tumbled from him. It must have taken him minutes! But he either didn't know, or forgot, that this is how OSers read these kind of posts:

1. Click on blog with a little kick of anticipation.

2. Feel your heart speed up when you realize there are a LOT of names in it.

3. Try try try to slow yourself down to read the actual blog.

4. Say 'fuck it' and scan as fast as you can through the names, looking for yours. Doesn't even matter what it says. Just look for your name.

5. Don't find your name.

6. Go back to the top, with your teeth slightly clenched, holding back some tears with one of those big deep breaths that stutter in the middle.

7. Don't find your name again.

8. Say 'fuck you, Blumenthal', then wander off to make a gin and tonic.

9. Sit back down a little later, and click on the post to watch all the fucking assholes you hate having a party.

10. Forget it's not a real party.

11. Remember it's not a real party, and remind yourself you haven't been to a real party in awhile.

12. Get all pissy that you can't even get invited to a fake party with people who sit at their computers in their underwear, scratching things and pretending they're 5'9" and 125 lbs. Or 6'2" and 180. Take your pick.

13. Decide to show you're above it, and comment anyway. But sulk a little. Actually, I sulk a lot. I admit it.

14. Go back and read and realize he used names based on how funny he could make himself appear. Realize if your screen name was Flying Donkey Dung, you would have been invited.

 15. Make another gin and tonic as you realize you are considering changing your screen name to Flying Donkey Dung.

16. Get another gin and tonic and see what's on TV. At least Jim from the Office looks right at you when he talks.

Here's the thing: I have learned there is no good way to do something that is only intended to do good. But I do know that John's post was a riot, and when he's built up the steam, there should be another one....with another 40 or 50 names in it.

I try to include 15-20 different people in my posts each week, because I want to highlight how absolutely spoiled we are at OS with choices. And the best way to see yourself in other places? Play. Create. Puppy avatars? Have a Pound Party. Cats? Meet at the Litter Box. A bunch of you could meet at a Hat Rack. Some in here could just meet at the Rack Rack.

 I've never been a puddin' wrestler or a one-eye Pirate Woman or a dozen other things that go on in here. But if you want to play, start your own. I've yet to see anyone in here turn down an invitation!

Tiara Pick

I'm plunking a tiara on Duane this week. I love his piece. God, that sounds rude.

Thank you each and every week for those who shoot me over links, as opposed to those who just want to shoot me. I truly appreciate it (the links), and if something doesn't make it in, it's because I ran out of time cleaning carpets because contrary to what you may believe, boys celebrating their birthdays do sometimes drink too much and puke everywhere.

 Have a great weekend! I'm spending mine with two grounded teenagers!