one of these things is not like the other

A few weeks ago, I logged onto my laptop, fired up my email account, and unearthed a couple emails from the ever-charming TwoBusy and clll asking if I'd like to be part of a writing project being cooked up among a handful of blog authors. Their initial emails were rather mysterious, but they used flattering words and I was having what could best be described as a colossally horrible day when they foolishly chose to lure me, and so I bit. It should be noted that this is pretty close to the way my Tool Man snared my heart and took me for his very own, lo these many moons ago. Apparently, if you refer to me as 'darling' or 'captivating' - which I'm not saying the above mentioned two men did, at least not necessarily in that order - I'm a pretty easy catch. So I was in.

Aha! THEN they told me their project - dubbed Polite Fictions - involved the participants creating a work of fiction, each one contributing their part to bring the story - whatever the story may be - to life. And that is when I panicked and considered pretending I was a 14 year old Japanese boy who had hacked onto Fadkog's account and agreed to this madness while also clearing out her measly bank account. Friends, I haven't written a piece of fiction in nearly 20 years when my college advisor and I made up an unaccredited minor in creative writing when I was a semester away from graduating. Remember that time when I said I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up? Yeah. There was no, nor is there to this day, creative writing minor at the college I attended.

(I just realized this may make me a trailblazer! Cool!)

Anyway, the only work of fiction I've been capable of for years is the weight on my driver's license, so admittedly, I was freaked out by the idea of jumping in on this project, but, I already told them I was in, and then TwoBusy spent far too much time talking me down. Did I mention he's charming? He's totally charming. So charming, in fact, that I think he thought he'd softened the blow enough to reveal to me the other INCREDIBLY TALENTED, FAR MORE GIFTED, BETTER QUALIFIED TO CALL THEMSELVES WRITERS who are also taking part in Polite Fictions and when he did, I began singing Alanis Morisette's Uninvited to him. "I don't belong here," I crooned.

Then I also dry heaved. Searched the internet for ways to render myself useless by breaking both my arms in the least painful way imaginable. Called ACTUAL 14 year old Japanese boys to inquire about blog hacking. Allowed TwoBusy to speak to me like Hannibal Lector as my scheduled day for posting at this new site approached.

And I caved because if there is one thing I am, it's a sucker for someone who asks me if the lambs have stopped crying.

So today's the day when my contribution posts at Polite Fictions and all those links to the site are my way of asking (pretty please) for you to go there and check it out. Seriously. Please. Start at the beginning and marvel at the way far better and more gifted writers are spinning this story, then read my entry and be nice. Then, I beg you, go back regularly to see how the story unfolds. Sure, there's curse words there. Whatever. Art is messy sometimes, yo. There's a pretty good chance some of us will have additional installments in this story. There's also a good chance the others will forget to tell me that, though, so I won't. Anyway, did you notice who else is writing at Polite Fictions? Check out that sidebar! That's what I'm talking about! You're going to want to know how this turns out!

Now, if you'll forgive me, I'm off to the mall with my new 14 year old buddy. His name is Shouhei, but I just call him...wait for it...Seth. You're not supposed to be here, anyway. You're supposed to be at Polite Fictions. Read there and leave some love, please! What are you waiting for? A picture of my boobs? HAHAHAHA! Go. Now. Scoot!

Here's the link one more time in case you missed it