Working For The Weekend [refrain]

Make that, working for the long weekend.

It's been a while since the last time I sang this chorus to thank you, Gentle Reader, for reading, and to share with you some of the more interesting tidbits about my blog. So here, forthwith (as Tim would say), are the tidbits:

I told you back in June that I'm fascinated to see where my readers are coming from. I continue to be popular in Texas, and I continue to have no idea why. Recently I had visitors from the Texan towns of Kingsville and, I swear I'm not making this up, Sugar Land.

I also had a visitor from the unfortunately named Boring, Oregon.

Let's see... I learned that Erin Murphy, who I wrote about here, is a twin.

I found out that Operaman's birthday is only a week or so before mine. I still miss him, and I hope he comes back to Toronto one day.

Congratulations to Joan and Paco, who just got married. Joan, I sure hope you were kidding when you said you'd asked Paco to print the last month of my stories so you could read them on your honeymoon!

A very wise man, when he read this story, emailed me to say, "Very few men would say "I was going to ask you if you'd like to come along" if they didn't mean it, simply because they're not subtle enough to think of it in real-time. So your Gentle female Readers might have been thinking that, but not the rest, I bet." This is useful information. I am always keen to learn more about the species.

Though I was tagged by Udge for the book meme, I never got around to it... and, besides, I don't want to admit that this was the last book I read.

I have made a new friend.

I had the loveliest email message from the bloggers at Moleskinerie, who linked to my story, Paper Roses, in which Jack gives me a Moleskine notebook for my birthday. I don't know which I love more: the notebook itself, the fact that Jack gave it to me, or Moleskinerie's saying, "We love how it sounds like part of a novel."

There was some embarassing stuff, too, which I'm sure will come as no surprise to you. Though I love my students, there are exactly two things I'd rather they didn't know about me, but guess what? A few weeks ago I ran into a former student while singing Groove Is In The Heart at the Rivoli, and a few days later another one emailed me to say happy birthday, after reading this story.

Thank you, Donny, for almost sort of asking me out on a not-date. Back when I wrote this story I didn't tell you, Gentle Reader, that Donny, who as you know is a big fan of Dave's and no fan of Jack's, had offered to take me as his strictly-platonic-get-your-own-room guest to Wendy and Joey's wedding, if he were to be invited to it, so that I could get to know Dave better. Which was very sweet, in a weird sort of way, don't you think? It was also a couple of months before the invitations even went out, and a lot can, and does happen in a few months, including Dave's starting to date, and then breaking up with, Red. So perhaps it wasn't sporting of me to remind Donny of his offer when he showed up at The Rivoli for Kickass Karaoke last Sunday — when Donny made the offer he wasn't sure (and didn't want to presume) whether he'd be invited at all, so for all I knew he hadn't been, and I'd sound like a beyotch mentioning it. To my surprise, he sounded disappointed as he informed me that he had received an invitation, but that it read only "Donny," not "Donny and guest,"** and so he would not be able to take me along as his not-date so that I could have a not-date with Dave. I'm not sure that I'm not disappointed, too.

And finally, I must thank a very nice man named Richard, who I've never met. He's a claims manager at Cunningham Lindsey in Toronto, and his home address is number 75 on the street on which I used to live at number 15. My cousin Evelyne in Germany had sent me a birthday card, and because of the way Europeans write the number 1 it looked like a 7 to the Canadian postal worker. Instead of throwing the card away, or writing return to sender on it and putting it back in the mailbox — which is what most people would have done, isn't it? — he tried to reach me. He couldn't find me in the Toronto phone book because my number is still listed under the X's name. So he cast a wider net using an online directory, and found my father, who gave him my phone number... then he called me, told me what he had, and offered to mail it to me, which he subsequently did, in a separate envelope and with his business card attached.

There are still people like this in the world. Isn't that wonderful news?

**Donny emailed me after I first published this because he was concerned that my words could be taken the wrong way. He wrote, "I am more sensitive to the possibility of how it makes the wonderful wedding party appear as opposed to the suggestion of my sheepish bleating akin to the one a truck makes when backing up." I have rephrased the paragraph, hopefully conveying only good and kind things about all three. I know Wendy and Joey only well enough to know that if they were to invite everyone who cares about them to their wedding, and allow each one to bring a guest, that they'd need every ballroom in every hotel in Boston — and probably Cambridge, too. And I never thought Donny was lying about what the invitation said.

* * *
Click here to sing the next chorus of Working For The Weekend.