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What I am about to confess may be shocking, so you may want to brace yourself, pop a Xanax, and grab a bottle of "Mummy's Little Helper" * and chug.



My name is Michelle (dramatic pause, deep breath).........

..........and I am a little slow on the uptake.



I know you are shocked because I am always such a sharp, organised, finger-on-the-pulse kinda girl. Yet despite my keen powers of deduction, I managed to miss my own personal blogging milestone.

I have only just realised that I made it to 50 posts and cracked 3000 views, since September 2009.

Surely there's some application on Blogger that ensures fireworks, marching bands and streamers, the second the counter clicks over. Now I know I am an infant in the blogging world, barely able to hold my own head up and not yet able to roll over, but I'm excited, Big Kev excited.

Now I'm not saying that they have all been quality blogs. I'm not even suggesting that they were literate. I know many are grammatical abominations and most verge on a manic outpouring of verbal diarrhoea, but I got there. I hit 50 and that requires dedication and perseverance which are not something I am known for. I can't even commit to continuing a daily routine of cleansing and moisturising for 50 days. So I'm excited for me and am doing my own little Rickie Lake dance in my threadbare, but oh so comfy pjs, "Go Rusty, Go Rusty".

When I started this blog it really had no direction. It was going to be a place to vent my stress and insanity. I thought after the first week I'd grow bored, move onto my next chocolate bar and pursue my dream of becoming America's Next Top Model, (cause they make 36-year-old, Australian, saggy-boobed housewives top models right?). Yet here I am still taping away, exposing my madness to the world. I'm still waiting for the inevitable knock on the front door where either the men in white coats complete with over-sized novelty butterfly net, will be waiting to take me away; or the literature police will be standing there, hammer in hand to break my fingers, so I that I may never again befoul the blogosphere with my key strokes.

I had no idea anyone would ever read my ramblings. I thought I may get a handful of pity reads from friends or family (this is somewhat like pity sex where you are thankful for the effort, but really it's a bit 'meh'), though even that was never guaranteed. Yet I look over to the left and there are actually photos under the 'Followers' section and most of them are people I have never met. I am shocked that they are there. I keep glancing back over to make sure I'm not hallucinating and that they are real. I have no idea how half of you even found my blog. Was it word of mouth? Were you totally bored one day and typing random words into the 'Search' on Google? Was it written on the back of a grotty public toilet door next to "Pookie Luvs Shania" and "Call Bambi for a Good Time"? I'd love to know.

Now I'm realistic enough to accept that some of those photos probably represent people who joined but never read again, and just find the effort required to click 'unfollow' overwhelming. But hey I'm loving every single one of those little photos regardless. Would it be seen as patholoical weirdness if I were to print them out an carry them in my wallet in place of photos of my children?

The fact that the counter has clicked over 3,000 in the last 5mths amazes me. In fact I am rather lost for words. Thank you so much to everyone one of you for your little clicks. It makes a rather strange and unkempt hermit woman feel very warm inside.

For those who have taken the time to leave a comment or send a message I'm sending you big air kisses via the ether. The snazzy double-cheeked European kind. Though if that's a bit much, or you're afraid of internet Swine -flu, I can always give you the traditional Oprah double-hand hug, otherwise known as the "stay away and don't touch me you freaks" Oprah hug, reserved for non-celebrity guests. If you're a blogger you'll know that little burst of excitement you feel every time you see that someone has commented. You don't write for comments, but you treasure every one. I always try to respond, but Bob sometimes interferes with the plan. For those I've missed know your comment was truly appreciated.

So big love to all who taken the time to read, follow, comment or visit. THANK YOU.

I thought I would take this opportunity to let you now about a couple more of my favourite bloggers. Both of these ladies are fantastic, intelligent and wet your pants hilarious. (Hmmm...maybe I should hand out a free Poise pad with each review).

• The Vegetable Assassin: Veg, or The Vegmeister as I like to call her (not that she knows this or is really aware of the existence of an obscure mad woman from Australia, who nearly pees herself whilst reading her words. Too much information?), is a woman after my own heart. If sarcasm were a religion, then she would be my goddess (okay that may sound a little stalker creepy, I'm not really freaky, really). She is one who fully appreciates and uses sarcasm as an art form. Every time I see a new post in my blogroll I know I am guaranteed a good belly laugh with a touch of guffaw, which frequently scares the crap out of my dogs. She is irreverent and intelligent and always entertaining. Whether its her love of cake, vendiagrams and the humble VW or her hilarious adventures with an evil mouse or her addiction to a certain diet beverage, there is something for everyone. She is also the proud owner of one of the supreme blogs of the rant known as Central Digit, enter at own risk! The Vegmeister is also one of the rare bloggers who takes the time to respond to each comment. And not just a simple thanks. Each response is personal and unique and witty. You gotta luv that.

• Calling People Names: I have made reference to the wonderful Aly in previous posts. I love her writing. Again she is a blogger who ensures laughs. I have snorted coffee on my keyboard and I'm pretty sure I peed a little reading some of her posts. Whether its the drama of her childhood or her sexual escapades she is one funny and intelligent gal. Like the Vegmeister she is the owner of another blog, Alyce In Wonderland filled with beautiful and thought provoking poetry. She also has one of the hottest voices I have heard in a long time as evidenced in her recent vlog. For liquid, warm honey, sensuality, you can't beat that Southern drawl. Aly is also a responder who makes her readers feel treasured and you can't overlook that.

So a couple of ladies to keep you laughing no matter how shit your day may be.

As for my health.....well I think that can be best expressed by the Blood Sweat and Tears classic, 'Spinning Wheel':

What goes up must come down
spinning wheel got to go round
Talking about your troubles it's a crying sin
Ride a painted pony
Let the spinning wheel spin

(Ok so I don't get the painted pony part either, but there is a slight chance they may have been smoking some 'medicinal' marijuana, for nausea of course).

So a big thank you to all my readers you are tops. I hope you'll find it in your heart to take pity on the poor, pasty, brain-fogged and gravity challenged woman of Oz, and return to read more of my rambles.

The chuffed Michelle :)

*OK for the uninitiated, "Mummy's Little Helper" is wine. Every mummy needs a little help every now and then. Besides the way I look at it, wine comes from grapes and therefore can be classed as one serve of fruit.