Maybe today she'll run into Arrrrr!

Avast me hearties, 'tis a glorious nineteenth of September!

Yesterday, the wee she-demon had a mysterious force guidin' her steps to take her out of the path of that scurvy dog B.

But the powers o' good are doin' little fer her obsession with M. That bilge rat has made an indelible impression on her mind and there's no laser will remove it. Reminds me of a problem I've had. Fer what seemed like good reasons at the time, I had a fella tattoo the name "Abigail" on me forearm. Two days later, didn't the heartless wench run off with an infantry man!

I can tell ye, having a lassie's name tattooed on yer forearm makes it hard to win the affections of another maid. So I went to another fella. This one, much more skilled with th' ink an th' needle. He turned the name of that disloyal Abigail into a fine portrait of me true love, the good ship Vendetta.

The moral o' this story? If ye're covering up one tattoo with another, ye need a skilled artist t' do the new tattoo.

Too many lives to blog

Fantastic news: because I did so well on that coaching test, I now get regular emails encouraging me to become a coach. Here is an excerpt from today's

Has this ever happened to you? We convince ourselves we HAVE 'decided' to do something when, in reality, we're only trying it on for size. We call ourselves something to see if it feels right and to see how other people react. We start looking around at what might actually be involved in becoming this new professional. We haven't really decided. We're just fixin' to get ready.

You can learn from my mistakes. Decide YOU ARE a coach.

Meanwhile, 5M is having frustrating dreams about hockey players. Here's my coaching tip if you're getting into these situations. You have to train yourself to identify when you are dreaming. Then when things start to go wrong, like the hockey player says he needs to get some "stuff", you can magically make the "stuff" appear so the hockey player stays. You can also use this technique to turn a fall off a cliff into flying around your city.

5M also tells us that Pool Guy really isn't her "type". When I say that someone isn't my type, it generally means I find them to be either a) loud and obnoxious or b) overweight. I suspect though that when a woman says a man isn't her type it's more nuanced than that.

Why were we de-linked?

Has the honeymoon ended? Have a few naïve bloggers, with some odd notion that an online public blog is essentially a convenient storage space, akin to a night-table for one's private diary, convinced our cherished 5M to remove herself from close association to us? Or, is it simply, through changing her blog appearance the links were forgotten? Is it a mind-game? Is it temporary, a warning, of the disassociation she may impose?
How does this affect us? Do we feel the rejection of it, or had we always expected it? Can we, together, power over our inborn desires to be liked? Most of us remain anonymous, but one of us basically outed himself with a trail of clues. For him, I expect, this has become a somewhat different experience, because he risks having to personally take on any negative sentiments felt for the rest of us.

A change in one's font is as good as a rest

Looks like Musie is making some real changes. Out with the old fonts, in with the new. I like the new colour motif. Less frou-frou, which is more appropriate for a gal of her style. Also looks like she's turned her blog into a team one. Where's Coyote on that list? I thought he would have had a chance at membership. And Aggie, your Bobbie is there.

We don't know either