Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Friendship By Remote Control

A couple of months ago, my bloggy pal and fellow virtual writers' group member Melanie was seriously hard up for blog fodder. I mean, really hard up. I'm pretty sure she was thisclose to itemizing the contents of her linen closet. ("And this SpongeBob Squarepants sheet set was given to my son when he graduated from Pullups to Underoos. It was a very special time for all of us...")

So she invited people to ask her questions. Anything they wanted to know, they could ask her.

"What is it like to be such a fabulously popular published author your editor changed all of his kids' names to Melanie, except the one whose name was already Melanie, which he changed to Byron the Destroyer?"

"If you were a tree, where would squirrels hide their nuts?"

These kinds of questions just poured in. Rained. Gushed. All over her blog. The mopping alone took the better part of one weekend.

But I had a much more burning, more pressing question I needed answers to. This was something which could well mean the difference between my family remaining blissfully happy and united well into the Millennium, or going down in flames and, shudder, maybe even running for public office.

This all-consuming question was: Where is my remote?

So, day after day, I checked Melanie's blog to see if my question's number had come up, all the while both fasting and praying that my family could hold it together until the answers we had been seeking were found.

And day after day, Melanie answered all those other stupid, stupid questions first.

1: "Awesome. Byron the Destroyer was the name of my first boyfriend."

2: "In sacks."

And so forth.

But today!! Today the planets aligned just right and the sun came out (although that's a regular occurrence in Las Vegas so we aren't attributing too much mystic power to that one) and the angels sang and Sarah Palin quit as President of her Bunko club and...

...Melanie used her super powers to find my remote!

That's the good news. Well, that and the fact that she dedicated an entire blog post to me, which, frankly, is something you all could learn from.

The bad news is, my remote has been sucked into another dimension where the little infrared wireless doo-dah is used by tiny creatures as an alternative fuel for their tiny vehicles. (I believe the original fuel was baby seals, so we can at least be grateful the remote is doing some good.)

Anyway, thanks a million, Mel! While I've had to jerry-rig a Barbie arm to the end of my broom in order to change the channel, it's a relief to know that my remote is in a better place. And it isn't like the broom was getting much use as a broom.

However, that leaves me with just one more question for your magical super brain powers:

Have you seen my {car keys?}

Note: The last word of this post has been changed because I was reminded that, for some reason, 13-year olds read this blog. I'm not entirely sure why that is. Most 13-year olds I know would rather be dragged through the Land o' Giant Cheese Graters than hang out with a 45-year old woman, particularly one who is not even related to them and therefore not likely to leave them anything in her will.

Nevertheless, I take my responsibilities to all generations of blog readers as seriously as I take everything else printed on this blog.

Parents: Do you know what your kids are finding on the internet??


Melanie J said...

I only did it because it was you, DeNae. Anyone else and I would have said, "Check your couch cushions like everyone else, dummy." Unless it was husband. And then I would have said, "Ask the ten-year-old." That boy and the remote are ripe for a squirrel-and-nuts analogy. I'm not sure what he gains by hiding it since he's always forced to give it up on threat of toilet scrubbing duty.

Kristina P. said...

Honey, I think the last person to see your virginity was probably Lary King, in 1902.

Shannon O'Donnell said...

So that's where remotes disappear to!

I don't know...I'm more swayed by the "ask the child" philosophy. In my house, it's the 7 y.o. :-)

MommyJ said...

I TOLD Melanie I left the remote control in your bathroom the last time I was there. WHY does no one listen to me?

Now for MY burning question... Are you, my dear friend Denae, gracing us with your presence at the blogging conference in May?

That Gal Kiki said...

Nice!!!! I loved this and Kristina P almost had me snort with that comment. :)

My remote is usually kicked under the bed (not on purpose). If that helps! :)

DeNae said...

Kristina, Larry and I only dated that one time. And he got a kiss, no tongue. Things might have gone farther, but I got tangled in his suspenders.

And darling Jenny, yes, not only am I coming to the conference, check the button! I'm speaking! Like, to a class and stuff!

I know! I'm as excited about that as you are!

InkMom said...

I get to meet DeNae-ae in Maaaaaay! (That rhymes. In case you were wondering.)

L.T. Elliot said...

So glad Melanie divined the truth for you. Sad that it's still lost in that 4th dimension.

The Garden of Egan said...

Remote and virginity?
I had no idea that the two were related!

tammy said...

I think there should be a button on your TV that you can push and it makes your remote start beeping, just like there is on my phone. Think I can sell my idea and become rich?

Becca said...

Hey, look. I (<3) you. And I (<3) Melanie J. So we should all three be... roommies or something.

Cherie said...

I think the couch cushions or under the bed could definately be a clue to the answer to both questions! (giggle)

Migillicutty said...


Remember there are 13 year olds here, DeNae!

(but it's pretty funny ;)

Steph @ Diapers and Divinity said...

Kristina... Hahahahahaha! Oh. my. goodness.

I think there's a group of about 6-8 of us that need to get together for a weekend and laugh until we need Depends. Oh wait, you already-- never mind.

I posted my solution over at Melanie's.

Julie said...

Check your freezer. For your remote, not your virginity. Seriously. Missing stuff ends up there all of the time.

You can thank me later.

Jessica said...

The Turks took my remote, but left my TV...check there.

Lara said...

I was wondering what on earth you could have lost that needed to be changed to protect a 13-year old's innocence.

Oh. :)

Debbie said...

No, I don't know what my kids are finding on the internet. Denial, baby. It's the only way to parent.
I saw your question about the remote and have been worried about you ever since. Thank God you came up with the Barbie arm solution. Would a head work as well? We have lots of those around here somewhere.

Ambrosia said...

I came from Melanie's blog because her post was so darned funny. OK, bad excuse. I have actually been reading your blog for awhile it just took Melanie's post to encourage me to comment.

And, my 13-year old sister reads blogs. It is kinda scary because now I can't throw cuss words out. Oh, man. My life is over.

Kimberly said...

I swear I used to have a sense of humour but I'm having to sit here with a bemused smile on my face, able onto to appreciate but at a loss for how to participate.

I need some Pratchett. Stat.

That Girl said...

I just LIKE you guys.

M-Cat said...

Just today, I had a son call and ask me where the finger nail clippers where.

Um, dude! You kife them every friggin time and there are like 8 in the house - YOU TELL ME!

The kids hide/lose everything.

annie valentine said...

I'm sure I've got a ton of 13 year olds over at my place all the time. We really gel like that.

myimaginaryblog said...

To answer your question, DeNae--not the unanswerable question of your mysterious losses (unanswerable to persons other than Melanie, anway) but the question you left at my blog, I HAVE NO IDEA why you've never visited my blog before now. But I'm glad you finally did, because you've been missing out. Even now I'm plotting a post about how I sort my laundry! It's sure to be a page-turner, er, page-scroller. (That's the literal truth; I really have been mulling a post about laundry. The idea came to me out of thin air, while I was sorting laundry. Apparently I'm quite single-minded. Which is nothing at all like being simple-minded. Right?)

The other thing you've been missing out on are my malapropism posts, where I celebrate the glory of the massive escalation in word abuse that's been brought about thanks to the internets. So here's a link.

Also, your Barbie-arm remote shows a genius matched only by that of an engineer. When I started dating engineer husband, he had tried to secure his car's loose muffler with duct tape. It hadn't worked. So actually, I guess his genius doesn't match yours.

AS Amber said...

Oh my heck the Barbie arm made me laugh right out loud & Tav asked what was so funny so I had to read it to him. He laughed out loud, too. I'll send Harley to find your remote. He's good at relocating them.

As for car keys? Ask Romeo. I bet he knows.

I didn't know you dated Larry King! That would have been a great way for me to talk to him when he was in the other day!
WV: racks. Finally one I can spell.

Migillicutty said...

I love this blog!

At least I did.... then I found out you were FORTY-FIVE.... I guess those life-extension treatment really work. ;)

(JK, you know I luves you, DeNae)