The Biggest Loser...Me. Finally Winning.

(post and photo copyright 2011, Dawn Weber)

Well! Slap me sideways and call me Charlie.

Sheen, that is. Because I am winning, ya'all!

I just found out that I'm a finalist in the National Society of Newspaper Columnists 2011 contest (Humor, under 50,000 circulation) for my "Lighten Up" newspaper column in the Buckeye Lake Beacon. This means I've either won first, second or third. How ya like me now?

Yep. Tuesday began like any other day- wake, kids, dummies in traffic, whatnot. Pounded away at my job, attended three boring meetings...at the end of the day I decided to read all my Very Important E-mail:

• "You Have Won Nigerian Lottery! Contact Barrister Abu Dabba-Doo With Bank Info..." - Ooh! Lucky Me! Quick-where's my bank statement?
• "My Name Natalya I am Interesting to date with you" - Thanks "Natalya," but I'm not in the market for a Russian bride. Although, some days, a housewife would do nicely...
• "Get a Bigger, Harder, Thicker..." - You know where this one's going...and I try to keep this blog PG-13. I try.

You can see here why I check my e-mail about once a week. Delete, delete, delete some more.

My finger poised over the DEL key, one entry caught my eye:

"Congratulations,"  Oh boy, I thought - more Nigerian Lottery. Great. My finger descended on the button until...

"After lengthy review, the Judges of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists annual conference have selected your entry as one of the finalists in category D: Humor in newspapers under 50,000 circulation. This means you have placed first, second or third in the category."

And then it went black.

I cannot believe it. I just can't. People, NSNC is Serious Shizzle! A Society  full of Very Important Past and Present folks: Heloise, Andy Rooney, the late Mike Harden, my buddy Jerry Zezima. Art Buchwald is in their Hall of Fame. Dave Barry was a past speaker at their conference.

Do these fine journalists at NSNC really want to include me? I mean, I cuss. Proudly and often, I shop at Walmart. I have been known to accidentally drink beer that is popular with crackheads. ("Steel Reserve" brand beer. Shut up. With the "Steel" title, I thought maybe it was brewed in my hometown.That's what I get, representin' for Youngstown...)

According to this email, NSNC wants to honor me with a prize. And maybe a little cash. Bonus!

I'm not used to winning - I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I am the world's most practiced loser:

• Tried out for seventh grade basketball, 1982. Did I make it? Hell no.
• Down to the last two spellers for the jr. high spelling bee. Did I win? Hell no.
• Nominated for Class Clown, Best Personality and Life of the Party 1987. Did I win? No, no and HELL no.

That's just the tip of the bad luck iceberg, the things I feel comfortable discussing. And people wonder why I don't like Vegas.

Over the years, I became used to losing, to second or third place. Need an also-ran or a runner-up? I'm your girl - I'm always the proverbial bridesmaid.

Hey - that's OK with me. I'm still around, still kickin', and quite enjoying my five wee minutes of fame. It's all rainbows and unicorns up in here!

Also, you don't want to read my sad stories. I'm supposed to make you laugh. That's why I make nothing the big bucks.

So if you're looking for me around the end of June, I'll be in Detroit at the NSNC conference, busily trying to buy Dave Barry crackhead beer drinks in return for his pictures and autographs. But I'm not a stalker, Dave...*crazy eyes.* I'll find out on June 25, 2011 whether I win first, second or third prize.

Do I care where I place?

Hell no.

Because Charlie and I...

...we are full of shit WIN!

My Bloggy Birthday! Directly Related to My Midlife Crisis!

I turned 40 a couple years ago recently. So I figured it was time to go batcrap crazy.

Not really. But I did decide to have a midlife crisis - get off my ass and do some things I always wanted to.

You know, before I dropped dead and all.

What to do, what to do? Skydive? Nah - way too wimpy. Buy a new sports car? Way too poor. Have a steamy affair? Gah! Way too tired, and keeping up with one man's sex drive is plenty, thanks.

Nope. I didn't want any of these things. I wanted to write. Funny stuff, like my hero, Erma Bombeck. And my other hero, Jen Lancaster (even though Jen never answered my fan e-mail. Thanks a lot, Jen! Betcha Erma would've answered. I still love ya, Jen. And I'm not a stalker. *Crazy Eyes*)

Anywho, I did get off my ass and start writing. Two years ago this month, I had my first newspaper column published in the Buckeye Lake Beacon, here in Blow-Hio. It was (and still is) as successful as it can be in such a small market. But efforts to expand it to other papers failed miserably faltered, since newspapers are dropping dead faster than Charlie Sheen's brain cells.

Also?  I wanted to cuss. Can't cuss in newspapers - you'll piss off the old people. And they're really the only ones who still read the paper.

So it was that I also began a blog, one year ago today. Yay for cussing! I wrote 50 posts last year. And I'm damn proud of it.

Proud because, probably just like you, I am already swamped, with work, life, spouse, kids, kids' sports, buying stuff for kids, driving  kids around, listening to kids tell me what stuff to buy them... Proud because I force myself to write at least one post per week, whether I feel like it or not. Proud because writing is difficult, and writing funny? So much harder.

I'm so grateful that people actually read this silliness. When I started, all I wanted to do was make people laugh and smile. Nothing - NOTHING is more gratifying to me. And someday, who knows? Maybe I'll contribute absolutely zilch, zero, nada to literature and write a book.

You know, before I drop dead and all.

Thank you to all you poor suckers anyone who follows, reads - and especially comments - because that is the only payment most bloggers receive,  really.

And it's enough.

Well, almost enough. I know, I know - you're probably wondering what gift you can buy for my Bloggy Birthday. What to get a funny little white girl? It's really not necessary. But, since you insist, I'd really like this....

Because boiling pasta can be such a challenge. And...AND - it's a 12-in-1 kitchen tool! Doubles as a colander, for rinsing and straining. Which are also, apparently, difficult activities.

What's that? You don't like this gift? OK. I have other ideas. How about...

Washing feet is also very taxing. Apparently. And look - says so right there on the box - no more of that pesky bending! Thank God! That was killing me!

Are you serious? You don't like either of these presents? You want to buy me something REALLY special? A gift that really Means Something?

OK, I guess you can get me the Best Gift of All:

Yes, this would be lovely. My buddy Oilfield Trash (he rocks, check him out!) filled me in on the Crackhead Charlie Winning Love Doll here, and now I must have him. Who doesn't want a Warlock Rockstar from Mars?

But damn it! Goddesses, Tiger's Blood and Crack Rocks not included! Says so right on the box.

That's OK, you guys. Mom will pick those up for me.

Winning!