Well, HELLO there!

My heart is all aflutter, and I simultaneously feel like I just awoke from one of those dreams where I am on the Metro and suddenly realize that I'm not wearing pants.

It turns out that there ARE more people reading this blog than my family and two best friends and Jules' mom. And if it weren't for the lovely Keenie Beanie, who, I have just learned, lives on the whoooole other side of the country, I would never have known it. So, hello Krys, and hello to Helen from Postcards from the Edge (of the West Country), who apparently led Krys (and, presumably, others) in my direction! And also to whomever else out there is reading Unagi that I'm unaware of. Welcome! I hope you'll stick around.

I cannot tell you how exciting it was to click over to Postcards and see my humble little blog's name in a list with my fave, Nothing But Bonfires, and several other of my must-read sites, so many thanks to Krys, for commenting and leading to this little revelation. Guess I need to step it up a bit and put on some pants. Metaphorically.

It also seems that Helen has "nominated" me for this “Kreativ Blogger” thing, which I don't really understand, but hey, I'll take it. (I'm so surprised! I didn't even prepare a speech. I'd like to thank the Academy...) And as part of the "rules" for that (wow, so many "quotes" in this "paragraph"), I am supposed to share a few things about myself. So without further ado…

1) I will eat nearly anything, but I strongly dislike olives, anything banana-flavored (except actual bananas), Indian food, and anything blue (except blueberries).

2) I quote Friends and The West Wing kind of a lot. One or other is nearly always applicable.

3) There is something about the shape of pigeons that makes me kind want to kick them. Not repeatedly or anything, but punted like a football, which is exactly how they are shaped. I expect that it would make a rather satisfying thwok sound. I should clarify that I have never actually kicked a pigeon, and I’m unlikely to do so unless I have just caught it pooping on my car.

4) The #1 place on my very lengthy to-visit list is Greece. It has been since I was ten years old, when I marked off the previous #1—New York City—which I visited while dressed like a young Amish girl. At the time, it seemed like the height of fashion. But a denim dress and a scrunchie were involved, so I’ll leave you to make your own judgment.

5) I get highly irritated when people pronounce “Appalachian” like “App-a-LAY-shin.”

Anyway, hello, nice to meet all of you, wherever you are. Please comment away so I’ll know who you are, too!

*****

In other news, G and Beth were here this weekend, and we had a grand old time. Basically, we went out for brunch (multiple times), introduced G to IKEA, watched WVU beat UK (word) and Tennessee lose to Michigan State (bummer). Oh, right, and went to see BON FREAKIN’ JOVI last night—the whole reason for their visit. I thought G was going to burst a blood vessel waiting for “Livin’ on a Prayer,” which, naturally, they played last. And, besides being awesome, the concert was also quite the cultural experience. It was as if all of rural Virginia and Maryland had put on their old Slippery When Wet tour t-shirts and ventured into the big city, though there were also a fair number of cardigans (we had three of them) and pearls in the hizzouse, too.

Incidentally, I had no idea how polarizing Bon Jovi is. Reactions to the news that I was attending the concert ranged from “SWEET!” to “Ew. Why?” But whatever, dudes, we all have our own cheesy musical proclivities, and mine lie squarely with Mr. Jon Bon Jovi and his apparent allergy to buttoning the top four buttons of his shirts.