I've been keeping an eye on my little 'ol SiteMeter thingy since "The Great Site Meter/Internet Explorer Incompatibility Fiasco" that took place last Friday night.
For that was a dark night, indeed. As soon as the message popped up in the middle of my screen alerting me that I could not view my webpage, or any of my favorite blogs, I freaked. Maybe "freaked" isn't strong enough a word, I FLIPPED OUT!
I clicked through my BlogLines. I clicked through the titles in my blogroll. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Hell, I was so desperate, I even clicked on Dooce. Funny . . . her blog was loading just fine. Makes me wonder.
I cried heaps of tears in my Diet Coke and called my husband at the firestation.
"It won't work," I sobbed into the phone.
"What won't work?"
"I can't read my blog, I can't read any of the blogs I love and I have the kids in bed and all I want to do is catch up on a little reading and now, and now . . . and now I can't." I was inconsolable.
"You could try reading a real book."
So after getting nowhere with the hubs in the technology department, I did read a real book. And I loved it. But I still missed my Friday night blogfest. Don't know about my Friday night blogfest? It takes place each Friday night when my husband is at work. You wear your "cozy pants" (aka ice cream pants) and apply a mud mask to your face. Then, as it dries, you throw a load of laundry into the washing machine (because is there ever a day that goes by without laundry?). After the washing machine is loaded, you sit in your office and read as many blogs as you can before the mud mask turns into a crackly mess on your face and starts chipping off onto your keyboard (who needs one more thing to clean?).
Which reminds me why I was writing this in the first place and which, I hope, will help explain my title choice.
Because of last weeks snafoo with SiteMeter, I've been giving it extra kisses and hugs so that it doesn't go all haywire on me again, depriving me of my Friday night blogfestivities. And (oh, I don't think I'll recover from this any time soon) tonight when I took a peek at how the Googlers are finding their way here, I saw (dear Lord, it is almost too horrible to type), I saw the words ELECTROLUX APPLIANCES CRAPPY. Just like that, in angry all caps.
And I have but one thing to say about that: they are not.
Also, I'd be more than willing to prove this crazy person wrong with a few, um, brand new Electrolux appliances to test out in my home. Ya hear me?
I'd even bake cupcakes and eat them. You can't tell me Kelly Ripa does that.