Wednesday, May 30, 2007
A Whirl & a Rant
Well, the famous Fistful of Euros Annual Best Blog in Europe Contest, Version #3 of the Satin Pajamas Awards, is officially over.
Due, I believe, to the temporary insanity of quite a few of his readers, the karmic mental telepathy powers of his two sons, and the unquestionable devotion of his lovely bride and her allies, as he puts it, the unstoppable force called the Polish maternal instinct, Mr. Sgazzetti over @ Isoglossia is this year's winner in the Best Expatriate Weblog category. Early in the competition, Mr. S. was sucking fumes at 1% of the total vote. He ended up with 41%, beating out Le Meg over at Le Blagueur à Paris, who finished at 30%. Le Meg was quite the worthy opponent and a winner in the Best Writing category, where she trounced the Gigantor of European blogs, My Boyfriend is a Twat. My personal take on this is that Le Meg, nominated in 4 categories, had spread herself out too thin, allowing Isoglossia to concentrate his efforts and his acolytes to vote for one category. Congratulations to both winners; we await the obligatory Satin PJ pictures. Le Meg, ever the sly one, opted for a body-double on her pose. Mr. Sgazzetti, I'm sure, will grace us with his presence; I'm envisioning something along these lines.
Thank you to all of the folks who stopped by in the last week and cast your vote for the eventual winner of Best Expatriate Blog. Another year, another winner from Slovenia!
Now, a short rant on the human condition.
This past weekend, a gorgeous Saturday specifically, the fam went up to Philly to purchase another futon and frame from the usual suspect. In lieu of a relation visiting form the Land of the Croats, new sleeping possibilities were in order. Having purchased the futon and accessories, we walked out of the store with the only thing we could easily carry at the time, the futon cover. Let me correct that last sentence; it was I who walked out holding the bag. A quite nice lunch at DiBruno Brothers on Rittenhouse Square followed our furniture acquisition. I, being what I thought of sound mind and body, placed the bag next to my chair, leaning against a wall. Seemingly overpowered by the tastiness of the lunch, we departed after an hour or so. I, sans bag. Driving home, I realized something was amiss. I squealled over to the side of the highway and searched frantically for the futon cover. Bumpkus! My ever-loving wife, possessing the vocal pipes of the Sirens, called up DiBruno's. Using her hypnotically persuasive tone and words, she easily persuaded the woman at the other end of the line to search the store and restaurant thoroughly. Bumpkus!
O.K., we decided to drive back the 8 miles we'd already distanced ourselves from the scene of my Personal Possession Management issue to aid in the search. Again, no luck.
So, here's my quandry. Having eaten in an upscale breakfast/lunch restaurant, one would think there's a different attitude or set of manners to be exhibited. I could understand, but not excuse, if someone saw the bag and walked away with it if if had cd's, clothes, cosmetics, etc. But a futon cover? What kind of morning did someone out there have to be blessed with such kismet?
"Hey Honey! I've got that feeling again and we need a futon cover. Cheap. Let me go to DiBruno's this afternoon and pick one up. Green o.k. with you?"
As life is a circle, someone's kismet is another person's Black Swan.
Or, perhaps, the powers of Le Meg were seriously underestimated by yours truly. Le Meg, please, don't hold my futon cover hostage! I voted multiple times for you in the Best Writing category!
Due, I believe, to the temporary insanity of quite a few of his readers, the karmic mental telepathy powers of his two sons, and the unquestionable devotion of his lovely bride and her allies, as he puts it, the unstoppable force called the Polish maternal instinct, Mr. Sgazzetti over @ Isoglossia is this year's winner in the Best Expatriate Weblog category. Early in the competition, Mr. S. was sucking fumes at 1% of the total vote. He ended up with 41%, beating out Le Meg over at Le Blagueur à Paris, who finished at 30%. Le Meg was quite the worthy opponent and a winner in the Best Writing category, where she trounced the Gigantor of European blogs, My Boyfriend is a Twat. My personal take on this is that Le Meg, nominated in 4 categories, had spread herself out too thin, allowing Isoglossia to concentrate his efforts and his acolytes to vote for one category. Congratulations to both winners; we await the obligatory Satin PJ pictures. Le Meg, ever the sly one, opted for a body-double on her pose. Mr. Sgazzetti, I'm sure, will grace us with his presence; I'm envisioning something along these lines.
Thank you to all of the folks who stopped by in the last week and cast your vote for the eventual winner of Best Expatriate Blog. Another year, another winner from Slovenia!
Now, a short rant on the human condition.
This past weekend, a gorgeous Saturday specifically, the fam went up to Philly to purchase another futon and frame from the usual suspect. In lieu of a relation visiting form the Land of the Croats, new sleeping possibilities were in order. Having purchased the futon and accessories, we walked out of the store with the only thing we could easily carry at the time, the futon cover. Let me correct that last sentence; it was I who walked out holding the bag. A quite nice lunch at DiBruno Brothers on Rittenhouse Square followed our furniture acquisition. I, being what I thought of sound mind and body, placed the bag next to my chair, leaning against a wall. Seemingly overpowered by the tastiness of the lunch, we departed after an hour or so. I, sans bag. Driving home, I realized something was amiss. I squealled over to the side of the highway and searched frantically for the futon cover. Bumpkus! My ever-loving wife, possessing the vocal pipes of the Sirens, called up DiBruno's. Using her hypnotically persuasive tone and words, she easily persuaded the woman at the other end of the line to search the store and restaurant thoroughly. Bumpkus!
O.K., we decided to drive back the 8 miles we'd already distanced ourselves from the scene of my Personal Possession Management issue to aid in the search. Again, no luck.
So, here's my quandry. Having eaten in an upscale breakfast/lunch restaurant, one would think there's a different attitude or set of manners to be exhibited. I could understand, but not excuse, if someone saw the bag and walked away with it if if had cd's, clothes, cosmetics, etc. But a futon cover? What kind of morning did someone out there have to be blessed with such kismet?
"Hey Honey! I've got that feeling again and we need a futon cover. Cheap. Let me go to DiBruno's this afternoon and pick one up. Green o.k. with you?"
As life is a circle, someone's kismet is another person's Black Swan.
Or, perhaps, the powers of Le Meg were seriously underestimated by yours truly. Le Meg, please, don't hold my futon cover hostage! I voted multiple times for you in the Best Writing category!
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My husband has had two PPMs lately and both have turned out much better than this, and with more fungible items (one credit card and one NASCAR ticket). Just when my faith in the human condition was improving, I read this. Tsk. Tsk.
Must be the East Coast, Gwynne. If it's not attached to your body, double-clasped, it qualifies as community property and is up for grabs, I guess.
Tsk-F**#%#!-Tsk, indeed.
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Tsk-F**#%#!-Tsk, indeed.
<< Home Verging on Pertinence Just some more disposable thoughts clogging up the hinterlands
