a thong gives more support

so exciting stuff with my blog yesterday. for a long time i've been following nicole at moms who drink and swear. as her title implies, we have at least 3 things in common. i consider her to be hot stuff in the blogosphere and i sent her a link to my blog. not only did she read my email, but she shared it with her 250,000+ fans and all of a sudden my day became centered around sitting in my pajamas hitting F5 every 30 seconds - completely neglecting my children and my real job. that judgy mom who wrote that overly-dramatic narrative about moms staring at their iphones while their kids twirled around annoyingly begging for attention would have been sporting a journalistic boner over my household on tuesday.

tj came home early and wanted to know what all the fuss was about. i explained to him that this was my version of a hole-in-one. (i have to talk sports terms to him or he just sits there with a derp face on). i told him all about the link being shared and how she thought i was funny and that she even commented on how much she liked my hair. here are tj's top 3 responses to my new z-list internet status:

1. "how many blogs do you have?"  tj only reads actual text if ESPN sends him a text message or if he is taking a shit while reading ESPN mobile. if i want tj to know what i've written in a blog i have to read it aloud to him in the same voice i read to my 2 year old. 
2. "do you ever blog about how your husband doesn't read your blog?" i am now.
3. "you should send her a picture of your hair right now and see what she says."  sorry i didn't spend 33 minutes rubbing $40 pomade all over my head like you did this morning. dick.

for the remainder of the evening i acted like i was a famous person and every time tj asked me a question i told him to call my agent and then, in my best dave chapelle voice, would scream "I'M RICH, BITCH." i explained to the girls that this was the boost of confidence i needed to get crackin' on finishing my book and told them when mommy becomes real-life famous she would set aside enough money to buy them each their very own tramp stamp when they turn 18. 

i could go on and on about my hopes and aspirations, but i have to get ready - i have zumba in an hour.