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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/883491-This-ones-about-as-non-typical-as-it-gets
Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2002599
My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so.
#883491 added May 31, 2016 at 5:59pm
Restrictions: None
This one's about as non-typical as it gets.
So, this happened:



...and this:

Merit Badge in Quill Award
[Click For More Info]

2015 Quill Award for Best Blog, for  [Link To Item #2002599] . Congratulations! *^*Smile*^* (See  [Link To Item #quills]  for more details.)


...and that was Saturday night at "The 9th Annual Quills Ceremony.

It's a beautiful thing, isn't it folks?

But lemme tell ya somethin'. I didn't see it comin'. I've been on that proverbial stage before. I've been nominated for Best Blog in years I thought I should've won. I've seen personal favorites and even someone I actually nom'd over me win. And that makes me happy as fuck...putting a horse in the race and then betting on it to win and then it wins? How do you describe that? Multiply that by people telling you (again) you should win this year, you deserve it, etc...

There are no words. No feelings. Other than amazement and love and appreciation. It's mind-boggling thinking about how all y'all think these things about what I think and how I convey it...like, WTF are you seeing that I so clearly cannot? And no, don't tell me. I'm bad with compliments. I don't want that attention. Thank you and goodnight...the more you encourage me, the longer I'll stay around.

So, I had a slot in the Quills In-and-Out for an acceptance speech. Had nothin' prepared, because *Up*. I went with the standard "Wooooooooo!"  . I was more prepared to congratsy other potential winners. I think I just stuck my tongue out and flashed some devil-horn fingers and that was it...I wanted to help keep the live broadcast movin' on in the importance of time. "It's not about me!" Even when it was about me.

And that's the thing...I do this because people read it and respond to it. I don't think I'm flashy or sophisticated or <insert adverbs and emotions and batshit opinions here>. I do this to keep my sanity. And that people like it...it's a bonus. To be rewarded for it, even better. Like a mashed potato-iced cake filled with steak and topped with one gravy...but not all the gravys. When you drop a shelf loaded with glass jars of beef, chicken, and turkey gravy, it smells like shame and failure. And all the dead animals. Don't ever do that. Put me off from turkey for awhile, until actual Thanksgiving rolled around, and then I was like "bird meat with fat and flour in my face's mouth-hole now!!" Sorry vegans. Wrong tangent.

Anyway, dude, it's still unbelievable. All the way around. The Live Hangout with Elle - on hiatus and Cinn and Osirantinous and Andy~hating university and Andrew and lizco252 and Sally and Lostwordsmith and intuey of House Lannister and fuck I feel like I'm leaving someone out. I know there was a The StoryMaster invite placed during the late portions of the afterparty. Understandably declined, but perhaps he could've added some color to the Intercourse/Paradise, Pennsylvania discussion.

All in all, this is why I joined up almost 15 years ago. To have an outlet for my notebooks. And my thoughts. And myself. I was a poetry writer, and as WDC evolved so did I, and I started blogging, and now I'm circling back into poems (big ups to Cinn and my boy Charlie ~ and Elle - on hiatus for convincing me into "Give It 100!). I needed to be shaken out of my doldrums, and this is why anyone should join or stay with WDC. Things happen, life happens, but involvement is essential. First time I felt welcome in life to such an open and inviting extreme. And let's keep it that way, huh? Write what you want, don't be a dick, and encourage others. Set goals...sounds like a shitty overused thing, but fuck if I can do something anyone can! Maybe next year instead of masturbating over the Quills I didn't win in Poetry categories, I'll win one. For the reason I joined up to begin with. Not campaigning, not hoping, nothing. It's on me for that, I know.

And ugh didn't this spiral out of control? Don't care. Love you all. I don't even know how to thank the fuck outta youse guys. But thank you. From the good places of my heart. That are filled with Reese's peanut butter cups. The dead part of my heart now includes chocolate-filled licorice and bizarre fruits  , and almost everyone in the situations over at "Invalid Item. That's my new home now, I think. I think that's where we go to express our anger and die, or something...and we get to do it with a smile.

I suppose I should wrap this up...I'm not tagging anyone else because thanking everyone whose been with me this far or seen me through so many years of this would take forever, and I'm bound to forget someone. So, blanket thanks to everyone. And I love you all, equally. Glad it's just me who can share this with you and not having it smashed up against a rock so that seven other people have to share. Love, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/883491-This-ones-about-as-non-typical-as-it-gets