Tag Archives: blogging


I have learned a lot posing as a squirrel on Facebook.  Yes, I’m still there.  Or rather, Squirrel is still there.  Possessed by a sugar rush, one day Squirrel went around “friending” all sorts of weird stuff.  Like the company that makes Spam.  So we get posts from them.  Lots of posts.  It’s far out.  One thing I can say – these people are really passionate about their work.  They even made a museum for Spam.

No I’m not kidding.  Even worse, they have a mascot.  I can prove it. (Click to Enlarge Pictures)

the horror . . . the horror

the horror . . . the horror

I just have to ask – why?  Why do we need a Spam museum?  What could they possibly have there?  Please say they do not have historical pieces of Spam on display.  That could get pretty nasty.  Maybe there’s towers of spam containers.  It’d be like shopping at Costco, except the only product would be . . . Spam.  Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?  Or even . . . mouthwatering?

spam museum1

I totally have to go to Minnesota now, you guyz.

But wait, there’s more.  On World Photography Day (yeah that’s a thing too) Spam asked people to share pictures of their Spam.

Aw, look, a Spam!

Aw, look, a Spam!

Sooo like people take pictures of their Spam?  Do they pose the Spam certain ways?  Do they keep photo albums filled with only Spam photos?  If you have dumped out the photos of your children and replaced them with photos of Spam, you might have a problem.  Seek help immediately.

Would you like to show everybody you are a freaked out maniac Spam enthusiast?  Do you have no fashion sense?  Well, Spam has just the thing for you!  Check it out.  Spam Hats.

I can see so many uses for this.

I can see so many uses for this.

To keep things hip and interesting, Spam offers contests to win – you guessed it -more Spam and Spam products!  In this one, you just had to email your favorite Spam memory to the folks at Spam Central or wherever for a chance to win this lovely gift basket o’ Spam.  You’ll notice Squirrel offered up his own memory.  Sadly, it was not a winning one.  Ah, well.

spam up

I have to wonder – what is the grater for? Do we grate spam now? On the grill?

So I get these sorts of Spam posts all the time on Facebook.  But that’s not all.  I get Spam other places as well, like say this blog.  Okay, it’s not the sort of Spam you eat, or at least I wouldn’t advise it.  You really don’t know where this spam has been.  I’ve noticed lately that the usually excellent spam filter on WordPress has not been working as well.  Stuff is slipping through the old grater.  Either that or our spammers have gotten more clever.  Check out some of the comments that made it through to my blog.

Written by the cleverly disguised blogger “Site”: I am really glad to read this weblog posts which includes tons of valuable facts, thanks for providing such data.”

Quite the compliment, Site, but I’m a wee bit suspicious considering you got these valuable facts from one of my 50 Shades of Grey reviews.

Next up is “Raspberry Ketones Ultra” (how do they come up with these totally realistic blogger names?  I dunno!):

“My relatives every time say that I am wasting my time here at web, but I know I am getting familiarity every day by reading thes pleasant content.”

Yeah, sorry, but I’m afraid your relatives might be right.

And finally . . . “accountant bendigo” has this to say: “Hi there, I want to subscribe for this webpage to take hottest updates,
therefore where can i do it please assist.”

This comment was in response to a post I wrote with Merbear entitled “Alice and Merbear’s State of the Hoo-Ha Address.”  I think accountant bendigo is a pervert.  I might have to invite him over sometime.

Okay, well, that’s more than enough spam for one day.  Let’s see what’s for dinner . . . oh, man.

Spam DONUTS?  Why?  Just - whyyyyy?

Spam DONUTS? Why? Just – whyyyyy?

Sparkleponies, away!

Hi ho, all, it’s Alice again.  As if it’d be anyone else, right?  Oh, wait, I guess it could be Sad Pony, Squirrel, Mary Alice, or my latest bud-dy, Sparky the Won-der Blog-ger!  I have been told he resembles another Sparky who led children in Bible verses in a religious club known as Awana.  There was even a theme song.  “We are sparks, sparks, sparks, sparks to light the world!”  Sparky has quite a back story he isn’t telling me.  Awana leaders, please do not come after me!

Yo, homie.  I is de shiz!  (sparky is acting on his own here, I swear)

Yo, homie. I is de shiz!   (sparky is acting on his own here, I swear)

Anyway, another blogger, Laura (Linking to fellow bloggers to say thanks is not Sparky-ish), suggested that Sparky should have a name for his followers.  I think that’s a fabulous idea that has probably never been done before!  Her suggested name is fabulous too.  She said followers should be called “Sparkleponies.”  Who hasn’t wanted to be a Sparkle Pony?  I, personally, had eleventy-billion of those sparkly My Little Ponies when I was a kid.  Of course I wanted to be one.  Only Barbie herself had more bling.

But like any club, there has to be badges so peeps know who has had the most Kool-Aid . . .I mean, who is a true and loyal follower of Sparky.  So I made one for Sparky, all by myself, once again putting my education and multiple art classes to work.  Check it out.


Now if you want to join the Sparkleponies, all you gotta do is take the pledge.  Oh and a few other things.  You can find them in the fine print of your enrollment forms, but I wouldn’t worry about them.  It’s just minor details, really.

A trifle, really . . .

A trifle, really . . .

Okay, then, now you are ready to say the pledge!  “Yes I am a Sparklepony!  Got a problem with it?”  Say it loud and proud.  Then go put your badge on your blog, like on the side, or better right in the border of your blog.  You’ll be glad you did.  There are many benefits to joining Cult Club Sparklepony.  Here’s a handy list.

  1. You get to worship Sparky at the blog of your choice, this one, Aliceatwonderland.
  2. You get to have wonderful artwork on your blog
  3. You get to explain to people how you have never grown up and no you do not intend to now.
  4. You’ll get paid . . . in joyness and inner peace.
  5. It’s just cool, you guyz.

Okay, then, my only question left to you is – are you a sparklepony?

* Edit – It was actually Laura who came up with sparkleponies.  My bad.  Alice no can read.

A Table of My Own

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately.  And not just because I went to one of those gyms with the walls covered in mirrors.  I read a post on Lucy’s Football called “On Wednesdays We Wear Pink.”  This is in reference to the movie “Mean Girls”, in case you didn’t know.  Last night, I watched the movie again.  Ah, the good old days, before Lindsey Lohan’s life went off the deep end – along with her career.

Anyway, I think most people can identify with that movie, because a lot of people hated high school – unless they were one of the Plastics.  “Plastics” is the term given to the popular people in the movie.  At my school, we called them the Snobs.  I went to the same public school from preschool through the 12th grade.  The social hierarchy was set early on, and it was nearly impossible to move your way up.  A few kids would move in and somehow fit into the cool group.  But usually, you stayed right where you were.

girls restroom

I was far from the top of that pyramid, but I don’t think you could classify me any certain way.  I wasn’t a goth, or a preppy (everyone at that school was a preppy as I realized later), or a nerd, or anything really.  No one could classify me because no one really knew me.  It’s hard to pin down someone who is invisible.

Once I hated the ones on top.  They hadn’t really done anything to me, but I hated them anyway.  And that’s the thing.  The farther up you climb the ladder, the more fans you get.  You also get more enemies.  This hierarchy never really ends, though.  It extends into all things: work, social life, and even blogging.

Back in September of 2012 I wrote a post for Canvas of the Minds called “The Cool Table.”  In it, I reflected on my struggles in school, and how I had finally been invited in with the “cool” bloggers.  I got to sit at their table!  I was part of the group.  It was a great feeling.  But I didn’t realize that just like in high school, you can get ousted from these cool tables just as easily as you can join them.

I’m not blaming anyone here, except perhaps myself.  You see, I was the one who put these people on the pedestals.  I was the one who tried to gather blog bling, and followers, and likes, and comments anyway I knew how.  You have to put yourself out there in order to gain a following.  I did, once, and when I got a good response, I did so more and more.  But after a while, blogging became as much about the awards (freshly press meeee, meeee!) and the teensy slice of “fame” than it did about the writing.  It became about social capital.  And after a while, I stepped back and realized I didn’t recognize myself.

Who wouldn't want to be in with these guys?

Who wouldn’t want to be in with these guys?

There are hierarchies in the blogosphere.  Some bloggers have thousands of followers.  Some have even made it really big, appearing on national television or in recognized magazines or in their own books.  Others are somewhere in the middle, not quite so famous, but with good followings.  And then there are the newbies, desperate to fit in, but not sure how the culture works yet.  They’ll learn, as I did.

I spent a lot of my life feeling like a victim, like everything just happened to me.  Poor Alice.  But I wasn’t only the victim.  I could be a bully too.  And I have a bad tendency to hop right into the middle of stuff that is frankly none of my business.  Train wrecks are fun – unless you’re involved in the middle of it.  I’ve seen feuds between bloggers.  And I’ve had my part in feuds.  Sometimes you see fights on blog posts.  Other times it takes place on other platforms – email, Facebook, twitter, phone calls.  There is backstabbing and nastiness out there, if you scratch the surface.

And then you realize you're part of one big Bachelor Pad.

And then you realize you’re part of one big episode of Bachelor Pad.

Yet it’s not all bad.  You see, people are people, though they may look like a fish or a squirrel or a bad driver’s license photo in their avatars.  Some bloggers may have more followers, but they are still just regular people.  They go potty just like the rest of us.  So while you should try not to put people down, neither should you raise them up too high.  It can be uncomfortable and lonely up on that pedestal, or so I hear.  And it’s a long way down at the end.

I am not a victim.  And I’m going to try hard not to be an aggressor either.  I just want to write a freaking blog.  So I’ve created my own table.  It’s not that cool, but it’s mine.  If someone wants to join me, that’s great.  There are puddin’ pops for everyone.  If not, that’s also fine.  There are many, many tables out there.  You don’t have to fit yourself into one group.  You don’t have to suck up just to be liked.  Just make your own group.  And for goodness sakes, just write.

Come join me for tea.  New cup, move down.

Come join me for tea. New cup, move down.

On Facebook, Blogging, Privacy, and Imaginary Animals

Here’s my second (and last) Facebook update with Sad Pony and Squirrel.  For the other two click here and here.  Thus far Squirrel has twelve friends.  All of his friends are my blogging buddies.  Some people would call them “enablers”, but I call them freaking awesome.  He has sent out friend requests to Jethro from NCIS and Sarah Palin.  No response from Jethro, but Sarah froze my Facebook page demanding personal information from me and I had to shut it down to get rid of her scary face.  You know, I’m thinking maybe that wasn’t really Sarah Palin.

Squirrel has gone around manically “liking” everything from Zingers and Energy drinks to every TV show with the word “Bachelor” in it.  So we get lots of posts from these companies.  And people not only like them, they actually comment on them.  It says something when you are a squirrel on Facebook, but you don’t come close to keeping up with the weird.  For instance, Fisher Nuts asks you to fill in the blank.  Their latest: “This weekend I plan to ____ with ____.  They really shouldn’t have left themselves so open there.  (Click to enlarge.)

I like my answer best.

I like my answer best, though the guy mowing the lawn with his nuts is also amusing.

I was most curious about what sort of advertisements the two would get.  Here are some of Squirrel’s.  I’m not sure why. (Click to enlarge)

My favorite is the one about luxury travel.  High on every squirrel's list.

My favorite is the one about luxury travel. High on every squirrel’s list.

The “friending” stuff has been amusing in other ways.  One of my IRL (in real life) pals is also a blogging buddy.  Here’s what happened when one of my pals came up as a “suggested friend” on her facebook page. (Click to enlarge)

So many animal friends on Facebook, so little time.

So many animal friends on Facebook, so little time.

 But what about Sad Pony?  Oh, he’s been active as well.  Well, as active as he gets, which is using a mouse with his teeth.  He has tried to friend several My Little Ponies but gotten no response.  Rude.  I guess maybe it would help if he were pink and glittery.

Sad Pony has not “liked” as well as Squirrel because he doesn’t like many things.  Mostly he posts gloomy Facebook updates, because everybody loves that one friend who ONLY posts gloom and doom.  On the other hand, excessively happy people can get annoying too.  Observe: (click to enlarge)

Those two do have fun.

Those two do have fun.

Sad Pony also got some strange advertisers, including a group that was concerned he was on Meth.  I think they should have targeted that to Squirrel, personally.  But what does Facebook know?

Not much.  Neither do I.  Though this has been interesting and at times amusing, I think it’s time to draw this experiment to a close.  For one thing, it is very easy to cross the line of stupidity and offend people.  Yes even I realized that.  And if I’m going to friend fellow bloggers, I’d rather do so as Alice.  Or the girl behind the curtain, ie the writer behind Alice.

Pay no attention to the writer behind the curtain.

Pay no attention to the writer behind the curtain.

But it’s a tricky thing.  Part of me wants to share with all of you more of me, but the other part gets a little freaked out.  When you blog, it is easier to express stuff, even stuff you wouldn’t normally express, when you are anonymous.  On the other hand, it frees you to express this stuff without accountability.  Should we be held accountable?

Yeah, I’m getting all serious here, and maybe too serious.  Does it matter what we reveal on Facebook, especially if we are careful to keep everything private (by constantly checking to make sure Zuckerberg hasn’t changed the settings AGAIN)?  I’m well aware that most people could get that information about me in other ways, if they really wanted to do so.

I’d love to interact more with blogger friends, because you can get to know people better through other social media such as Facebook.  On the other hand, some things make me uncomfortable. Why does Facebook feel the need to keep suggesting the friends of my friends?  Maybe they don’t want to be suggested as friends, but they don’t have a choice.

Then there is the time issue – do I have time to waste on Facebook what with all my time already being wasted on blogging and silly computer games?  And it’s so easy to lose track of time on a site like that, when really I should be paying attention to my Things and that husband guy occasionally.

So as Sad Pony and Squirrel disappear from Facebook, I ask you some questions.  How close are you with blogger friends?  Do you have many on Facebook or other social media?  Have you ever thought of tossing your Facebook account?  Do you worry about privacy?  I know many people have family on there, but thank goodness, I do not.  So there’s not that tie for me.  If you didn’t have a tie like that, would you still Facebook?

Let me know in the comments below.  And thanks to everybody for playing along.  You guyz are great.

My New Epic Quest

“I did absolutely nothing.  And it was everything I thought it could be.”
–         Peter Gibbons in Office Space
office space

It’s not that I’m lazy. It’s that I just don’t care.

A while back I wrote a little post called Epic Quests and Crap Like That.  You might remember it, since it got Freshly Pressed, and also since I’m reminding you of it right now.  Also there’s that handy link.  But anyhoo, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this quest of mine and whether this is the right path for me.

You see, I’m what people might call a “worrier” or “neurotic” or “a total freakazoid”.  I can manage to turn the simplest of tasks into a monumental undertaking.  And if there’s a book on this undertaking?  Look out, I’ll find it.  And I’ll research the poop out of it.  Yes I will.  I have researched more self-help books than you can count.  Books on how to lose weight, exercise, be more spiritual, be more of a freethinker, be less of a worrier (ie freakazoid), be more assertive, make more friends, declutter my living space, parent my children, self-diagnose various diseases I might have, diagnose psychological problems I definitely have, manage my finances, manage my husband, eliminate stress, and, of course, simplify my life.

My latest quest, as you know if you read that post that made me, like, famous for 24 hours or so until people realized who I really was, was to lose weight.  This did not go well.  I didn’t lose any weight.  I sort of came up with some new probably good habits.  But no weight loss.  So then I wrote my Big Fat Manifesto, in which I griped about how people hate fat people and it’s really not fair when there are so many other reasons to hate people, like that they’re assholes.  I conveniently left you a link to that too, because I like it when WordPress asks me permission to link to my own stuff.

Anyway, you’re probably wondering what my new quest is now.  In the last post mentioned, I said I wanted to get healthier.  I think I might know the way to do it.  I’ve been heavily influenced by my reading, as usual.  One thing I read was this book called Sloth by Wendy Wasserstein.  It’s part of this series on the seven deadly sins, only Wendy actually advocates for sloth.  Sure, it’s satirical, but like all satire it holds a grain of truth.  Sometimes what we need to do most is absolutely nothing.

This is a great book and short too - woot.

This book has the Official Alice Seal Of Approval

I’ve mentioned before that I’m sort of lazy.  That’s true and not true.  While my body often is not off the couch, my mind is always running.  I have the thinnest brain ever, next to Ana Steele.  Basically, I am both Sad Pony AND Squirrel, which I guess means I am sort of dating Miss Four Eyes.  Awesome.  Anyway, this book gives you permission to do nothing, and is written as if it is the next great self-help book.  You know what?  It think it is.

My favorite movie of all time is called Office Space.  It was released in 1999, so you might not remember it, but it is still awesome.  When I first watched it, I was working for a boss from Hades, so I really identified with the main character, Peter.  He works for this mind numbing corporation.  His boss treats him like crap, his girlfriend treats him like crap, his job is killing him slowly, and he thinks each day is the worst day of his life.  Until he happens to go to a shrink who puts him under hypnosis before collapsing from a a heart attack.  Peter stays in this hypnosis, completely relaxed, without a care in the world.  What happens afterward is my favorite part.

Instead of working on the weekend, he sleeps most of the day, ignoring calls from his boss and girlfriend.  Finally he gets up, happy and refreshed.  When the girlfriend calls again, he picks up the phone, glances at it, presses the off button, and goes about his business.  There is something about that scene that resonates with me.  Here is a situation that just the day before would have had his stomach in knots, yet now, in his relaxed state, he says pfft, and turns the bitchy girlfriend off.

Hey, Commissioner Gordon, bite me.

Hey, Commissioner Gordon, bite me.

And that’s not all.  He goes to work.  The same crap happens, only now he’s relaxed and at ease so none of it gets to him.  I want that hypnosis.  Of course, in real life, that’s not how hypnosis works.  But I think we can still get it, if we let ourselves go, and give ourselves a break.  Sometimes, it is so nice to simply just be, and those moments are so few.  So that’s what I’m trying to do now.  I’m embracing my inner hippie sloth – check out the link for a review on an awful kid’s show.  I know, I’m on a roll here!

I’ve started doing Yoga with a DVD.  I know, me, of all people.  But I like the breathing part.  The very best pose is one that looks suspiciously like lying flat on your back, but don’t be fooled!  This is Yoga, you guyz, and I am getting all spiritual and calm and crap.  There’s a lot of stretching and turning this way and that and sometimes I just stop and go “Pfft, she’s kidding, right?  Legs don’t go that way.”  But mostly I like it.  Who knows?  Maybe I might accidentally lose some weight, or possibly my asthma will improve, or at least I’ll get to take naps on a mat like in kindergarten.  It’s all good.

So I’m working on just going with the flow.  Maybe I’ll eat an apple.  Or maybe I’ll have a milkshake.  Maybe I’ll go for a walk.  Maybe I’ll nap. There are endless possibilities on this new path.  Reflecting this change in my quest, you might see changes on this blog.  I might post a blog post next week.  I might post three.  I might post none.  I might post two in one day.  There might be more one word posts (that got me the most hits in weeks).  I might not use so many pictures.  I might only use pictures.  I might have guest bloggers come do my dirty work.  You just never know.  Isn’t that exciting?  Where are you going?  Ah, well.


Facebook Loser or Hipster Douchebag?

It's only a matter of time, really.

It’s only a matter of time, really.

I’ve had a Facebook account for a while.  I didn’t want to get one originally.  It was a school assignment.  No, really.  It was supposed to help me keep up with my classmates while I got my MLS degree.  They seemed to think I wanted to keep up with my classmates.  I did not.  Most of them were okay people, but in general, people just tend to annoy me.  They were no exception.

There was one well-intentioned student who took great joy in announcing everyone’s birthdays.  We were then obligated to all say “Happy Birthday” to this person.  Thirty times.  There’s only so many ways you can say “Happy Birthday” so it gets old after a while.  Since the degree took two years, she did this twice.  The second time she had to wish happy birthday to herself, because no one else bothered to do it but her.

Hey, I was original.

Hey, I was original.

So I had this account, and eventually I gathered new “friends”.  In case you’ve been under a rock, and don’t know about Facebook (can you make room for me under there?) Facebook friends are not the same as real friends.  Oh, they can be just as annoying, yes, but you don’t have to ever see or even really know these friends.  Your “friend” could be the friend of a cousin of a friend of your ex-boyfriend.  But hey – you can boast that you have a lot of friends!

The way you make friends is by sending out a “friend request”.  I remember making friend requests.  This was in elementary school.  I wasn’t a big fan of elementary school, and it wasn’t a big fan of me.  So the idea of asking someone I barely knew to “friend” me (by the way, friend still is not a verb) seemed very second grade.  But of course I did it, because everyone else did it, so maybe Facebook is more like junior high instead.

Not that I'm desperate but . . . BE MY FRIEND!!!!!

Not that I’m desperate but . . . BE MY FRIEND!!!!!

Anyway, as time went by I found other people I had random things in common with, and I joined a couple of “private groups” defined as groups where only invited people, and Mark Zuckerberg and his buds, are allowed to read.  Then a funny thing happened.  One private group branched out into another private group whose purpose seemed to be to talk about the first group.  Attention: You have now officially entered a high school clique.  The acne will sprout anytime now.

People in the first secret group got rather angry at the new double dog secret group.  It was a huge trainwreck, and naturally I read the entire exchange in between glances at Cosmo magazine.  While momentarily entertaining, I figured this might be a signal that I really didn’t need Facebook anymore.  Another signal was when I decided to “hide” someone’s status (Status def:  When people voice their ill-informed and stupid opinions and make you wonder why you ever liked said person.)  Facebook helpfully offered to let me hide the statuses of all friends I didn’t interact with – and this turned out to be almost every single one of them.  Huh.

. . . and then makes you hate them.

. . . and then makes you hate them.

So I took “the plunge” and deactivated my account.  But Facebook is like Hotel California – you can check out any time you like, but Mark is going to keep all your information for all eternity and try to trick you into coming back bwahahahaha.  First, he will show you sad puppy faces of the “friends” who will surely miss you if you leave.  Tough.  Then it will leave your account open for a few weeks, in case you change your mind, or accidentally click on something that leads you back to Facebook.  You’ll never guess what I did.  Yeah, Superbetter is in league with Facebook.  It’s a conspiracy.

Anyway, I was still pretty happy that I had mostly abandoned at least one form of social media addiction.  I’m not patting myself on the back too hard, though, because hello, I’m blogging.  Some like to call it trading one addiction for another.  Also, while I was informed by one article in Psychology Today that the more Facebook friends you have, the bigger loser you are, another article by the illustrious Huffpo told me that if I got rid of my Facebook account I was a hipster douchebag.

Me loser or douchebag?

Me loser or douchebag?

In essence, the Huffpo article says that quitting Facebook is the “in” thing and only done by those annoying people who also quit watching television and eating meat and bathing and act like they are now somehow superior to you for living closer to nature and whatnot.  Honestly, I don’t care about these people as long as they don’t say they are the specialist snowflakes ever and I’m squat.  Am I a hipster because I think Facebook is a waste of time and stupid unless there’s a major trainwreck going on and then it’s kind of funny but I feel like a jerk later for enjoying it?  Am I a douchebag because I don’t spend time relentlessly planting pretend crops and posting about my bowel movements?

What do you think?  Do you have facebook?  Do you want to get rid of it or do you like it?  Are you a loser or a douchebag?  Which is better?  Would you like to go “poke” Mark Zuckerberg for real with something sharp?  Let me know in the comments below.

Blog Break

Hi all.  Again.  Just letting you know that I’m taking a blog break.  Again.  I’ve got this great cruise lined up – for some reason Carnival is giving these awesome discounts!  Something about a “get back to nature” special.  Anyway, I hope this break recharges some of my batteries so that I can bring you the typical useless programming you’ve come to expect from Alice.com.  Nothing but reality TV standards here, guyz.

Take care.  And if you think of anything you might like me to cover in future posts, you can always leave these ideas in the comments.  Awful TV shows?  Exercise videos?  Books about stupid vampiric businessman psychopaths?  Moronic celebrities?  New prescription meds I should probably be taking?  Let me know.

See you soon and thanks again for being awesome,


Rants with Alice: Comments! Answer you must!

Rants With Alice

Today I’m going to rant to you guys about blog etiquette.  I know, you’re looking at this and going PFFT.  Alice is gonna talk to us about etiquette like she’s freakin’ Emily Post?  Yeah, okay, I realize I’m not the best at this kind of stuff.  But there is one thing that bugs me about some blogs.  And that’s when they don’t answer comments.

Alice is not really a proper British girl but she plays one on her blog.  Sometimes.

Alice is not really a proper British girl but she plays one on her blog. Sometimes.

I realize this is controversial to some.  Like making a “thanks” or a smiley face in response to someone’s comment takes TIME, folks.  I realize that people have lives (what is this life business?) and I don’t think you should have to respond immediately.  Maybe it will take a few days.  Or a week.  Or a month.  Especially if you become Queen of the Mucus People, or you know, you just don’t feel like it.  Or if you’re someone who gets eleventy billion comments on every post.  But eventually, it just seems polite to at least acknowledge that the person acknowledged you.

I guess I’m just still so thrilled that people read me and find enjoyment in what they read.  And as I’ve said before, the comments can be funnier than the posts themselves.  You get to know people that way.  And I don’t think you should ever stop trying to get to know people, no matter how big your blog gets.  I got some new followers with the pressed business, and I am working on checking out their blogs.  It will take me a while, but I promise to visit each one.  Because, well, I just think I should.  Who knows? Maybe I’ll find a new blog to read.  I always need new reading material because I have the attention span of Squirrel and cannot seem to concentrate on anything longer than a blog post or a Cosmo quiz.

I just learned my girlfriend is not that into me.  Thanks, Cosmo.

I just learned that I have sexy power! Thanks, Cosmo.

I’m not saying that you have to follow everyone who follows you, or that you have to go be best buds with someone because they left you a comment.  But gosh, is it so hard to be polite?  If someone gives you a present, do you just toss it aside in a pile and say nothing?  If you do, are you related to the men in my family?  Anyway, that’s the way I look at it.  Comments are presents.  Maybe the present isn’t just what you wanted (I don’t like being told I’m not Queen of the Internetz) but it’s the thought that counts.

I rarely follow blogs unless the bloggers respond to comments.  It’s just so much more fun that way.  There are one or two that are just so good that yes I follow them even though they don’t answer comments.  But not very many.  Most of my blogger buddies are awesome about responding to comments, and some of these bloggers have huge readerships.  I respect that.

Yes I AM Queen of the Internetz.  Bow before me.

Yes I AM Queen of the Internetz. Bow before me.

There must be some reason why some people do not respond to comments.  Maybe they’re shy?  I realize a lot of bloggers are introverts.  That’s why we’re here.  I am much more introverted in real life, at least I am when I don’t know you.  If I get to know you and I like you, I will never shut up again.  But I guess I could see how this might be a problem for some people who don’t have split personalities (ie extrovert online and introvert offline).  Still, I would encourage these people to push past that fear.  I had to push past some fear just to make my blog public.  But what incredible rewards I have gotten in return.  And I’m not talking about my blog bling, not even the big blue blog bling up there in the corner.  (With the hearts.  Yeah, that one.)  I’m talking about the community of readers.  I’m talking people who lift me up, who tell me “Hey you not only don’t suck, you’re pretty awesome.”  That is the reward.  And you miss it if you don’t engage with your readers.

And though I’m grateful to have been acknowledged by the WP gods and to have gotten new readers, my best bling is handmade.  I’ve gotten personalized awards for covering that crappy 50 Shades series.  I had a blogger draw a picture of my blog and write a poem about it – it’s up there on my All About Alice page.  It even has Sad Pony and Squirrel!  Heck, my readers are so cool they acknowledge my delusions and even have pretend relationships with them.  You can’t find this kind of crazy awesome just anywhere.

I have the best friends ever.

I have the best friends ever.

So I figure the least I can do is respond.  I also try to visit the blogs of my “homies” (Alice in da hood) and leave comments there.  It’s not a chore.  I love reading their posts, so I usually have something to blab about.  Sometimes my comments are longer than their posts.  But it’s my way of showing appreciation, especially since I still haven’t figured out how to make blog bling.

Admittedly, part of this is my OCD in action.  There is a comment and I must answer it!  Not only that, I want to answer comments on the blogs of other people.  I even pushed my real-life blogger pal to go answer her comments on her blog because it was driving me crazy.  It’s like going to a bookstore and OMG their books are not in order, so I start rearranging them and WTF I don’t work here!  So possibly some of this is just the madness of Alice.

But it’s a good madness.  Join me, won’t you?

Hilarious Health Activist Nominee – me?

Hi all, it’s Alice again.

I checked my junk mail and found this little email telling me I was nominated for a health activist award.  Yeah, like, I know, right?  I’m not sure who nominated me, but I checked it out and it’s actually legit!   Research!  Here’s a little more about it:


And here’s the little blog trophy I will win in if the judges actually vote for me out of like a big old bunch of other blogs.   (ZOMG MORE BLING!)


Someone had to nominate me, and I’m thinking it was one of my awesome followers, or possibly someone who mixed me up with somebody who does a lot more advocating for health stuff (does warning people away from the stupidity of 50 Shades count as health advocacy?)  Either way, it’s very cool to get this nomination, and a reminder that you should occasionally check your junk email folder.  This is not junk – for once!

Once again, thanks to all you crazy peeps who follow my blog.  I love you guyz.


P.S. Canvas of the Minds is also nominated for an health activist award (it’s probably not the hilarious one).  There is a button you can use to endorse them.  Do ittttt!  That site totally deserves it.

2012 in review – by WordPress

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 21,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 5 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

Wow, there are some awesome stats here.  Best one?  The search words used most in finding this blog.  Never have I seen crackwhore mentioned so cheerfully in an annual report!  Thanks everybody for tuning in anyway.