Thursday, February 21, 2013

Freaking Geniuses. They Walk Among Us. With Weeping Feet

(post copyright 2013, Dawn Weber)

So many of my readers have touched me - deep inside. 

Without even buying me a drink first. 

There's Pearl, who calls me her "weirdo," and Vixen, who's affectionately dubbed me "asshole." Twice.

Thank you, thank you, ladies. Truly, I am "flattered."

However, of all my commenters and readers, I have to admit that there's one who's captured my attentions these days with his shrewd, insightful counsel. He's a genius; and like so many of your garden-variety geniuses - Aristotle, Ghandi, Fabio; Socrates, Plato, Snooki - he goes by one name.

He is the one they call "Anonymous."

Yes folks, I am pleased to announce we have been blessed by Anonymous himself here at Lighten Up! That's right. This wise, wise sensei reads and comments on my blog, and he has graced us with his wisdom, clairvoyance and podiatric advice. After all, he was the first to point it out: 

My feet. They weep within my sneakers.

It's so true! After a long day of sightseeing or a few miles on the treadmill, my feet DO weep within my sneakers. How did he know? Read on - a direct quote from Anonymous himself:

"When the feet are weeping within the sneakers as a result of distress, it truly is far more probable which you can't give your really best general functionality on that day."

You see? Remember, you read it here first, courtesy of Lighten Up! and our boy Anonymous. When YOUR feet weep within the sneakers, you can't give your really best general functionality on that day.

Yes, Anonymous has really made a difference in my life - and sneakers - with his shrewd, insightful counsel on my blog posts.

But I'm going to have to have a talk with Blogger - they're automatically redirecting his brilliant musings to my junk folder. You can imagine my surprise and dismay at opening up my spam tab to find such genius comment-nuggets as:

"What's up friends, how is all, and what you want to say concerning this article, in my view its genuinely remarkable in favor of me . . ."

It's all about YOU, Anonymous. No doubt!

"Hi, all the time і used to chеck blog postѕ here in the early hours in the break of day, because і loνe to learn more and more . . ."

So happy to help you, your Highness! We're all about the education here at Lighten Up! Especially in the early hours in the break of day.

"Now I am going awaу to do my breakfast, when having my breаkfast coming ovеr аgain to reaԁ other nеwѕ . . . "

Don't let us keep you from your breakfast, Anonymous, or from breakfast coming over to read news. Again.

"Thus, as a way to earn within sports activities, apart from the demonstrating off talent and abilities, each and every ingrained in addition to made, it can be essential to use the best footwear. Learn about how a best footwear might be cherished from the foot . . ."

You know what my feet cherish? Free, Anonymous footwear expertise, that's what.

"You manаged to hit the nail upοn the toр anԁ dеfined out the whole thing withοut having side-effеcts, peoρle coulԁ take a signаl."

People COULD and SHOULD take a signal from me - that's what I always say. Anyway, that is certainly what I tell the husband and kids, because I do, occasionally - just sometimes - manage to hit the nail upon the top.

"I do not even know how I ended up here, but I thought this post was good. I do not know who you are but certainly you are going to a famous blogger if you are not already . . ."

Don't know how you ended up here? You're drunk, Anonymous. But I'll forgive you because you said I'm going to be famous.

"What i don't realize is actually how you are not actually much more smartly-favored than you may be right now. You're so intelligent. You already know therefore considerably in the case of this subject, produced me personally consider it from so many various angles. Your personal stuffs nice. All the time care for it up!"

You're right again. I am intelligent! And my personal stuffs ARE nice: Over the years, a couple of other men have also said so.

Remarkable things here. I'm very happy to peer your post. Will you kindly drop me a e-mail? Thank you a lot and I'm taking a look ahead to touch you. 

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, big boy. I appreciate all your wisdom, Anonymous, but I’m not letting you at my personal stuffs. Or my sneakers. Or even my weeping feet.

There’ll be no touching, wise guy.

Not without buying me a drink first.


And speaking of geniuses . . . here's a little something about a fella I met a while back, on a flight from Atlanta to Columbus:

. . . There are seven billion people on the planet. Of these, I enjoy actually physically talking with . . . maybe . . . oh . . . nine.

I'm not sure why, but I seem to have the opposite effect on others. I think people see my short stature and light hair-color and assume I have a friendly, bubbly personality.

This couldn't be further from the truth. I am quiet and actually kind of a bitch. Just ask my family.

Here on the plane, my seat-mate's glassy eyes stare me down as he leans close to me, his saggy pants offering up a plunging rear view, a scandalous posterior eyeful I neither expect nor desire. Before my attempt to nap, I had noted that he carried no luggage, and this - along with his bloodshot eyes and visible crack - make him seem kind of gangsta.

Then again, I'm pretty gangsta myself, what with my polo shirt, mom jeans and sensible shoes.

Still, he seems a friendly fellow, an amiable hoodlum, intent on talking to me no matter how much I'd rather sleep. He chatters on and on until I'm good and awake.

"So. What you do for a living?" he asks.

"I work in communications," I reply. I've learned that it's best to be vague in these situations.

"Really? Where you work?"

"Oh, it's downtown," I dismiss it with a wave - again with the vague. "How about you? Where do you work?"

He pauses, rubs his chin, smiles to himself and sits back.

I have a sudden feeling things could get intriguing.

"Well, you know, there's this medicine - these pills - you see . . . "

"Uh-huh . . ." Oh, we're going to have fun here, I can tell.

"They're cracking down on them in Columbus, big time," he says.

"Really . . ." This conversation might be better than a nap. Maybe.

"The people . . . they're addicted to them - bad. You know, they're pills for pain, pills for pain," He looks at me, waiting for my reaction, his expression dancing a thin line between warning and sales pitch.

"Yeah . .  . you're talking Percocet and Vicodin, things like that, right?" I ask.

He's relieved that I'm familiar with such "pills for pain," I can tell because his shoulders relax. 

He leans toward me, and I smell nachos. Again.

"See, they're cracking down in them in Columbus . . . so what I do, I get on a plane . . . "

His voice a whisper, he leans even closer to me . . .

Stay tuned for the rest in my upcoming book! Someday!

Hey - I am working on my tenth chapter/essay now. Not bad, right? That's almost 1/4 of the way done. Right? Please tell me that's right . . .

And then I have to get someone to actually publish it! HaHaHa!


Every single essay/chapter has been a struggle, a battle of "I can't do this! But I did it before - how did I do that? Ugh. I can't do this!"

But I powered through somehow. And I said I'd reward myself when I reached little milestones. 

What should I get for myself? Some Percocet? Vicodin? A new pair of sneakers?

Nah. I'll settle for a pony. 

Or - perhaps - a unicorn.

And a rainbow. Definitely a rainbow.


  1. "... they're pills. Pills for pain..."

    See? Even the weirdos know you're a weirdo. :-)

    I say this with love. Love and expectations that someday I will say it to your face, whilst handing you a margarita (and bogarting the guac).

    Hugs, my friend. Can't wait for the book...


  2. You should write a book and call it "Wise Words from Anonymous".

    Rainbows are expensive, I've looked into it.

  3. Well, you did have a nice pedi last I loved you.

  4. You can write the book. You can. And since the great O was elected, unicorn farts and fairy dust and rainbows are everywhere. Who didn't know that??

    I like your anon better than my anon. My anon is trying to sell me a tractor. @@

    I had to turn on comment moderation, some anonymous nutjob started posting strange comments on my blog. The weird thing was, the comments were on REALLY old posts. Like 2008. WTF??

    My feet are weeping as we speak, but it's probably the puddle I accidentally stepped in as I was leaving work.

    Most of my commentary for the next 30 seconds or so started with f-u and ended with c-k.

    But I got over that before I got home.

  5. I really couldn't get past the weeping feet. Ew. I like me some rainbows though and think you are not as much of a bitch as you claim to be. :) Book, book, book...!!

  6. This comment has been removed by the author.

  7. It's guac-bogarting Pearl's fault for labelling you "weirdo" the other weirdos are creeping out of the woodwork chanting "Gooble-gobble, one of us, one of us,"

    Also? Your blog is marvelous, and I get so excited when I see you've posted. Let that bit of ego-fanning also help fan the fires of creativity - you can consistently create awesome works, because you are yourself awesome!

  8. What you need to do is take a signal from your fans, anonymous and not so anonymous, and know that you are much more smartly favored than all those other blogs who try to pass themselves off as assholes but just never really seem to measure up.
    Coming from one who calls their favorite person in the world a shitface, I hope you understand the depths of my endearment. :)

  9. That anonymous is such a slut. He's been sweet talking you while leaving similiar loving messages on my blog. If I wasn't so tired from pushing the delete key, I work up enough energy to be insulted!

  10. So that explains what the bartender said when I was crying in my beer: "Hey, Penwasser!!!! Get your frikkin' feet out of the Bud Lite!!!"
    Now I get it.
    Thanks, Anonymous!!

  11. I'm very familiar with the I-did-it-before-I-can-do-it again-AARGGG!-I-can't do it feeling. You can do it. You're hysterical. You can make soap funny.

    And may I just add, yet another reason why I don't fly. I would have to buy a cap emblazoned with "Don't Talk to Me" on the front.

  12. A note to Dawn
    eliminate anonymous from the comment list and you will see a super reduction on those "weeping" comments.
    Now a second comment from me to your FB "friend" who will never see this because of her decision never again to read other comments.
    Dear FB friend?
    We love Dawn, our "gangsta" mom in her sensible shoes. We have fun on this blog, wait I mean FUN!!! She is talented and witty, a great writer,(doesn't write enough) and yes pretty...
    We don't need a wet blanket attending our party and the fact that you won't read our comments ever again is fine with us.

    Dawn, feel free to delete this if you want, I have said my peace.
    p.s. Pearl and Vixen, we love you too!

  13. Pearl - Can't wait for the margarita. Also can't wait to see you snarfing the guac. :)
    PT Man - Perhaps my "Anonymous" book can fund the rainbow? No?
    Trav - Ha! Mystery solved. So YOU'RE Anonymous!
    Ami - Clearly you need a best footwear, so you can give your best general functionality.
    Eva - Thank you! I'll sign one for ya! ;)
    Stacey - Well, you're a nurse. So "weeping" means an entirely different thing to you: festering. Yeah, eww.
    Kana - Thank you for your kind, sweet words. Made my day. I don't even have a sarcastic comment for you.
    Vixen - I totally understand, lady. :) And I loves ya for it, you know that. I feel so...smartly favored.
    Nana - He is! A total ho, Nana! I don't delete him, I just leave him in my spam box for amusement.
    Penwasser - The bartender is right, Penwasser, for shit's sake, get your feet outta the beer!
    Jayne - Thank you so much. I need the pep talk. Ugh, that "I-can't-do-this!" feeling. Never goes away!
    RJ - Thank you, thank you, RJ. Such sweet things to say! :) I love my commenters, you, Vixen, Pearl, all of them. Even Anonymous. Hey - they're the reason I write.

  14. Yes, you are doing great. Ten chapters already? That's fabulous.

    And this dude on the plane seems to be offering all sorts of crack. I'll be back for more.

    Oh, and Anonymous, good Lord! That was a wonderful "tribute". I get comments on my most inane of inane posts about how much they're learning from my blog. (But never got the weeping feet commentary.) It's a sad, strange world. But you rock it with laughter. Keep on, dear Dawn.


  15. Robyn - It's a sad, strange world indeed. All the better for blog posts. Am I right? Of course I'm right. ;)

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  17. It appears anonymous has left another note.
    "smell nachos" I can only imagine what anonymous smells like.
    I've been getting plenty of anonymous spam these past few months but I don't recall any mention of my personal stuffs.

  18. Lucky you, I don't get any anonymous comments on my blog. :(

  19. Anonymous! - Thank you for joining us, NOT bothering to read my posts, and totally proving my point!
    Bill - But your feet? Do they weep within the sneakers?
    Dwei - You sure can have mine!

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