Wednesday, May 21, 2008

 

I Can Has An Oops


Today the "good" hospiddle was all out of love (and so lost without me) and also all out of staff. So, out of the goodness of my heart and the love of filthy lucre, I went in to work the 10-6 shift.

Part-way through the day, the conversation went something like this:

L: Do you have a blog?

Me: (frantially trying to lie): Yes! (apparently I failed)

L: What's it called?

Me: (attempting to dissemble) Rabbitch (failing again)

L: Aha! I knew it was you!

I was well and truly ...

funny pictures
more cat pictures

My first thought?

ohnoes.jpg
more cat pictures

Seems my co-worker was talking to a friend and the friend mentioned "this blog she'd found" written by a woman who knits and spins and who works at a couple of hospiddles and had just quit her job. Sound familiar?

Well, it sounded familiar to L and she said "I'll bet I know who that is." Her friend said "Pshaw!" or something along those lines. "Out of all the people who blog and all of the people who knit, what are the odds that you could know her?"

And L said "I'll bet you five dollars right now that I know her."

After the initial "Oh noes" moment I warned her that I hadn't mentioned it because I'm a pottymouth and I figured I didn't really want my co-workers knowing all about me also too. She seemed unperturbed and started reading. So, um, Hi L! *waving frantically*

And L's friend? I do believe you owe her five bucks.

and now to wait for the people at the bad job to find it and try to fire me for it like what happened to that stupid woman who made a career out of being fired and then talking about her child's potty-training problems for several years

ps. if that happens, we'll have a party. beer's on me. more than likely, anyhow, after about the fourth one ...

i'm clumsy

Comments:
Oh well, waddaya gonna do?

If you need a place to stay for the Franklin and Harlot festivities on June 14th, if you are (somehow) free to travel to Toronto, please consider staying with us.

It's gonna get wild. I'm thinkin they're gonna have to close some streets and get out the mounted crowd control coppers.

PM me on Ravelry, I'm KnittinTherapist.

Leslie - knitting therapist
 
ahh - yeah, the hazards of blogs being public. Worse though? Your MOM finding it, and telling you by sending you something with thinly-veiled references to blog content on the envelope and in the package. :D
 
Always a shock, innit, when you realize teh innernetz is a PUBLIC place and you've been posting stuff there.

And Leslie? Two words. Jell. Us.
 
Hey, that woman makes enough from her blog now that her husband quit his outside job to work on the blog too. I spose there could be worse things.
 
Hey, if they try to fire you, and you didn't name the place where you work, or any of your coworkers, and you didn't reveal any confidential medical info, and if you have a Canadian first amendment then can you SUE HIS/HER ASS? And get a large settlement? And dye yarn but only when you feel like it for the rest of your life?
 
Oy. Nothing worse than being outed as a blogger at work. Sigh... If you do have that party, though, let me know -- it's a long drive, and I'll have to plan ahead! (P.S. Have now spun the singles on Linguistics, and am getting ready to -- wait for it -- ply!)
 
Hey! I didn't know you worked in hopsittles. And I've been reading you for a long time. So maybe your secret is semi-safe.
 
Ahem...I live in a one-square mile town. You can barely poot in private. I've been blogging less than a year and I'm amazed no one "local" has found me on the interwebs yet.

And for what it's worth - my mother does read my blog!
 
I live in fear of that day. Of course, I'd probably have to develop something vaguely resembling a thriving readership for it to happen...
 
A woman at my church is another yarnish girl, and knows I blog about it. So far I've put her off about what my secret identity is, but someday she's going to find out, and meetings will be that much weirder.
 
Well, hopefully the bad horsespittle won't do something nasty like make you work more hours or sue your socks off.

The cat with the bread reminds me of Dave Daniels' Miss Lulu getting caught hunting for 'nip in the cupboards on top of the fridge. And my Buster.
 
A couple of people in my town know that I blog and they read it regularly. I've decided not to give a shit because what are they going to do? Not like me?
 
yeah well, my husband says proudly "Oh, this might get into her BLOG" like hardly anyone reads it (which is ok with me). Of course, there're things I can't say because he reads it. But I mostly write it for the experience for myself, which I enjoy. On the other hand, I LOVE blogs in general and yours in pertickler, Rabbitch, might I add. And I love that picture of the cat. Onliest thing I look at before reading my regular blogs is that Cheezburger thing. (And Itty Bitty Kitty Committee on account of I'm into self-torture.)
 
Hmmm you might want to work on that whole subterfuge thing... possibly role playing it with the kids, or heck the cat.
 
That's a good thing=======people read **your** blog.
 
Bust ed
 
She and her husband were up your way on the weekend, you could have got some tips...
 
Lessee, I own my own condo, have a nice car and I'd like to be as stupid as Heather Armstrong is. Sour grapes aren't pretty. Guess you won't be allowing this comment
 
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