The one with all the answers

So I seem to have skipped this whole answering comments thing all together. I keep putting it off because it overwhelms me, and then, well... this thing happens, where all of a sudden two weeks later the first 10 pages of my mail inbox are all comments.

I freak out a little, feel bad for not answering (because I really do appreciate them), and resist the urge to flee all and every responsibility (my natural response to when life happens too fast), on top of which I engage in some deadly serious and rather elaborate procrastination. I rock procrastination. In case you didn't get that from the title of the blog.

And then, well, it's dinner time, and we all know what happens at dinner time.

And at that point I definitely shouldn't be on the computer.

But sometimes I am anyways, and instead of answering the comments I leave some on other bleeps' blogs about aerobics, heavy metal, and fingernail clippings and tweet about changing diapers on a motorcycle.

So I'll just answer some choice questions here. And that'll be it. I seem to have procrastinated and fled my way straight into partial avoidance.

Not news.

The first question comes from Barbara: Scary, isn't it?

Well Barbara, you hit the nail on the head with that one. What is it, if it isn't scary, eh? I'm not a scared individual per se, but I have been told that I am scary. When I worked for the Girl Scouts, all of them little ones used to be terrified of me. I think some of it might be because of my voice, but mostly it is due to the fact that children just don't get sarcasm. No matter how well executed it is. They think you will sprout horns if they don't quiet down, just because you said so (and then afterwards the parents tell you to shut up about go easy on the biblical references, and Santa's death).

No. Put the phone down (social services are busy). I don't actually have children of my own.

The second question is from Manxrunner : You live in South Africa, what's it like there?

Yes I do Manxrunner. It's nice a lot of the time, and sometimes it's not so nice. But mostly it's pretty nice.  There is this blog about a girl in South Africa you could maybe check out. It's called 'What will I ever do with my life?' I'm told there's quite a lot of stuff on South Africa there.

An Open Heart also has a question: In the middle of your performance angst, you didn't REALLY run out of wine?

Not to worry dear Open Heart. I have this alcoholism thing down to a fine science. I haven't run out of wine in years. Thanks to that small nagging voice in the back of my head that really should be telling me to buy milk, coffee, eggs, and toilet paper, but just keeps going: "Remember the wine. Don't be forgetting the wine. Did you already get the wine. Ooh, there's wine, you need wine."

 Zakk had this to ask: An unpublished author?

Yes. I believe that in order to be published one has to have submitted something. Yes? And in order to submit something one has to have finished writing something. Is it not so? I'm still missing the first phase as well as the second one. And even after that, I'm told it's quite difficult, so I have no qualms about my blog URL, except for maybe the last part, since I seem to have gone from author to blogger, unless the internet goes down, and I'm not frantically crocheting.

And last, but not least the Not So Glamorous Housewife wanted my opinion on something: Why in the world was I excited?

I can't remember. I think it had something to do with your dog.