(Apropos of nothing, I feel compelled to point out that BlogSpot has endorsed me for the position of Shoe Shopping Wife. My banner ads are now for shoe stores! Sweet.)

This week’s edition may be a bit briefer than usual (I can hear you cheering there, in the back!); the kids and I are getting ready for a jaunt to the beach. That pretty much means that they are busy piling up every toy in the house by the beach bag, and I am sitting here wondering if I remembered to shave. Anyway. Let’s get started!

Heather asks, what’s the most peaceful place I’ve ever been?

This one time? When someone locked me in the trunk of their car? It was nice in there. I fell asleep. Curled into the fetal position. (Fiction.)

I have never considered myself a terribly outdoorsy sort of person, but during my first cross-country drive I was seriously tempted to stay in Jackson Hole. My dad and I went horseback riding on a mountain, and I could’ve believed we (along with our guide, and his dog) were the only people in the universe that day. It was very Zen. (Fact.)

mc asks, would the people who know me in real life recognize the person I am here?

Well that’s easy, since my blog is triple-top-secret. No one else here at the correctional facility has any idea that I have a laptop stashed in my cell’s commode. (Fiction. Sorry for the visual.)

Quite a few folks from my “real life” read my blog, including my parents and several friends. I have been told on multiple occasions, “I could just hear you saying that!” I think I’m pretty true-to-life, here. The difference perhaps lays in my willingness to expound on my neuroses. Most of the time, when I get really tied up in something that’s bothering me, I will self-censor with my friends–at a point–because I realize I’m whining and I don’t want to drive them away with my incessant complaining. Here, this is for me, and you can read it or not. So I’m more likely to let it all hang out. (Fact.)

Jules asks a long, convoluted question about watermelons growing in my stomach and regenerating uterii, but points out that I don’t need to answer.

In the interest of soothing the minds of anyone who was worried after my post from last night: I posted about my spotting/cramping to a hysterectomy support board, and someone said it was probably internal stitches dissolving. Good enough for me. Also, so far so good, this morning. (Fact.)

Alektra wants to know my favorite babyword from my kids that we still use.

Sorry, there are no baby words around here. Both of my children popped out with 5,000+ word vocabularies and impeccable diction. (Fiction. Wasn’t that a really bad movie, once?)

I gave this one a lot of thought. Sadly, most of my favorite babyspeak has gone the way of the highchairs and diapers. Chickadee used to hold up her arms and say “Uppy doo!” when she wanted to be picked up. She never just said “up.” Cracked us up something fierce. And my favorite with Monkey has always been the various permutations of him pronouncing his sister’s name. She used to get so angry with his mispronounciation and I tried to tell her she’d miss it once he could say it properly. Now sometimes I catch them playing and her telling him to call her what he used to. Heh. We do still call Oreos “yo-ee-yos” just for fun! (Fact.)

Janet is sucking up to me something fierce, complimenting my intellect, visage, and feet, and wondering just how insane my ex is.

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. (BWAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA Fiiiiiiiiiiiiction….)

My ex went through a really difficult time, handled it badly, and I think now–as he puts his life back together–also realizes that we weren’t a very good fit for one another. We might’ve made it, had he not had such a huge crisis… but I’m one of those “everything happens for a reason” kinds of people, ya know? He’s not insane. He’s just really different than I am. I hope that in the final analysis we’ll appreciate our time together because of the two fantastic kids we got out of it, but that both of us will find greater happiness elsewhere. I was not the right person for him, nor he for me. (Fact.)

Marcia wants the dirt on the ex’s new woman.

She’s a mail order bride and rodeo clown. (Fiction. I hope.)

I know very little about her, and the ex is being very tight-lipped so I’m not asking. I know she’s working out-of-state on a 6-month assignment. I know she’s a chemist. I know she was nice to my kids. I know the ex seems much happier. I very much doubt I’ll learn more prior to hearing either that she left him or that they’ve set a wedding date. When I’m not feeling sorry for my pitiful single self, I’m very glad to know she’s around.(Fact.)

Kimberly wants to know where I would live if I could live anywhere in the world.

I believe someone asked this before, and I joked about Alaska (because really, someone who hates the snow as much as I do should just not be allowed to live where I do), but said I’d go to Maui. Weather-wise, that’s true. Culture-wise, I’m not sure. If price wasn’t an object, I think I’d move back to northern California. I miss it there, both for the weather and the culture. (Fact.)

Shelly wants to know how the job-hunting is going, and what’s the worst job I’ll settle for?

Well, I’ve just been hired as the new CEO of Victoria’s Secrets. Free thongs and angel wings for all my readers! (Fiction. Ow.)

Since resuming my search, I’ve sent out two resumes and felt out three possible contacts in addition. It’s slow going. Should I be unable to find something along the lines of what I really want (blogging for pay aside, I’d like to get back into technical writing), I will probably apply for a job at Target. I’m sure the job itself sucks, but it’s Target. And I’d get an employee discount. But yeah, it’s not exactly how I pictured my life. Maybe I can hang up my diplomas in the employee break room…? (Sad, sad fact.)

Aurora wants to know if I’m closer to my real-life friends or my blogger friends.

I don’t have any real life friends. Also? All the comments on my blog are just you, and my other personalities. (Fiction. No offense to Sybil.)

On the whole, of course I’m closer to those friends I can hang out with in real life. I do have a few “internet friends” from waaaaaay back, pre-blogging, with whom I have a very strong bond. I would say I’m as close with a couple of them as I am with my “real life” friends. But blogging friends? I’m meeting fabulous folks, here, but I’ve only been blogging for a few months. Relationships take time to build. (Fact.)

Jennifer asks how serious I am about working in daycare.

I am serious in the sense that I would like to pay less for daycare. I am not so serious in the sense that I do love children, but I have never felt “called” to work in childcare as a serious gig. I’m good with kids but I don’t see it being my career. (Fact. Thank you for the offer of advice, though!)

Jen wants to know where she can get a Wife application.

The form is about twenty pages long, and needs to be filled out in triplicate and notarized. Send me a self-addressed, postage-paid mailer and I’ll get it riiiight out to ya. (Fiction.)

I had no idea that my commune scheme was going to generate all of the enthusiastic interest that it did. And now I feel I’m caught with my pants down, completely unprepared to organize our progress as necessary. Who’s gonna be Paperwork Wife? This is her job. (Fact. Inasmuch as the commune becoming reality is fact, that is.)

My current time is up; the beach is calling! I will answer the rest of the questions later today. Enjoy your day and don’t forget the sunscreen!!