Yesterday was a strange day. First, I got featured in a column in our local alternative weekly, which was rather a thrill, to see my picture in the paper an all, and to give the world such mesmerizing quotes as, "and . . . we have brains." I also said something insulting about the magazine I used to work for and I can't wait to apologize to my old boss for calling the product of years of his sweat and hopes "dopey." So ultimately the whole business has unearthed some conflicting feelings about being interviewed and not watching my words, as well as being discovered by a local media outlet, as well as having Jackson want to take the paper to school for show-and-tell, when, I belatedly realized, I sort of liked this whole Fussy thing being a secret to my neighbors. And then for some reason Feedster picked me as Feed of the Day, which was, like, Huh? Great! Uh, what's Feedster? As usual I'm really up to speed on this whole Internet thing.

Anyhow, the remedy for all of this is to go over to Orooni and read her Open Letter to the Lady Standing Half an Inch Behind Me in the Checkout Line, which, if you're me, will remind you of Dooce's classic Dear Cranky Old Bitch Who Cut in Front of Me at Canter's Deli.

Never let it be said that I don't give good link. Happy weekend! Go git 'em.