|Street Sign for Bloor Street West, near St George Station (Photo credit: Wikipedia)|
I have to come clean about this award thing.
You know - the blogger awards.
The truth is that I don't like them.
But because I am a female Canadian of a certainage my response, (on the odd occasion when someone
actually gives me one), is usually
But, (and I hate to say this), that's not how I really feel.
Usually they cause me a great deal of anxiety.
Heck, one of the last ones I got the giver doesn'teven read my blog.
She just reads my comments on HER blog.
When I first heard about a blogger awardthe winner had to pass it on to one person.
And that wasn't too bad.
Now it is up to seven and I think you have to includea video of yourself selling your first born child on the corner
of Yonge and Bloor in downtown Toronto.
It is beginning to feel like those high school chain
letters that start out by saying, "You will die in three
days if you don't pass this onto 376,257 of your friends."
My point is... well, it probably doesn't matter what mypoint is.
I doubt if anybody is still reading.Except maybe Doug, my first blogger buddy.
I've burnt my bridges,managed to offend everyone in one swell foop.
I'll be drummed out of my circles andstripped of my blogger epaulets.
My virtual goose is cooked.
But the relief of having finally said itis enormous!!
P.S. But I'm always pleased when my buddies get an award!
Just think of me as the neurotic sitting in the corner, eating the