Who are you?
There’s an About page. Not enough for you? Boy, you’re demanding. I’m an almost- middle-aged woman who still feels like she’s in her twenties. I live in New York (state, not city). I work many many hours at one job and some more hours at a volunteer job and even MORE hours at various writery jobs. I like cats, cake, geekery, books, and television.
Why should we listen to anything you have to say?
Well, you probably shouldn’t. I can’t promise that listening to anything I have to say wouldn’t be the worst decision you ever made. But sometimes I can be funny, and once and a while I give advice that doesn’t suck. So follow it at your own risk. Take some initiative, for the love of Pete. I can’t hold your hand forever.
Who’s Lucy, and why is this blog named Lucy’s Football? You never talk about either Lucy or football. I am disappoint.
Good question. Many years ago, I wrote an essay about how life was very much like the Peanuts cartoon segment with Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the football, and how things you want are often dangled in front of you and then yanked away, and you fall on your face like poor blockheaded Charlie Brown. It was kind of my first blog post, but it was pre-internet times. You know, stone ages. As years passed, I realized that, depending on where you are in your life, you are one of the three characters/objects in that scenario: you are either Lucy, in control of the situation and making the decision whether or not to allow others to kick the football; or Charlie Brown, deciding whether or not to go for it, torn between optimism and blockheadedness, knowing that it will probably be taken away from you; or the football itself, pulled around by forces beyond your control. It’s all very deep, right? Also, it just seemed like a fun name for a blog. However, it leads to a LOT of people who are looking for either football blogs or Charles Schultz-related items, neither of which I have. Sorry to both. As with many things, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Which really should be my life’s motto and I should get tramp-stamped on me or something. Also, can you even IMAGINE the work I’d have to do to change my name now? I mean, Lucy’s Football is my username in like 43 kabillion places. THAT IS TOO HARD. When things get hard, you know what they say: give up. And who am I to go against what they say? They obviously know what they’re talking about. Also my father told me that Fox News was talking about Lucy and her football the other night so I’m pretty sure I’m going to be getting that elusive and coveted Fox News crowd any…minute…now. SCORE TIMES INFINITY.
I am very offended by something you said! WHO DO I TALK TO ABOUT THIS.
You can comment, or you can email me at the address at the bottom of the blog, or you can smear me all over the internet, but here’s the thing? Don’t be a douchecanoe. It’s one thing to open up a discussion where we disagree on something and we can have a rational, adult conversation about our disagreement; it’s another thing to call me names because you have different political or social beliefs than I do. There’s room for us all in the kingdom, little one. Also, life’s too short for that kind of behavior. Go take a Kit Kat break or something. Sheesh.
I don’t want to be mean, but I was reading some of your archives, and the formatting is really bad. Like, all the lines run together and stuff. It’s really hard to deal with.
Yes. See, here’s the thing. I switched over from the nightmare that was Blogger at the end of September 2011, and the importer worked great except it erased all the formatting. So I have to go into each post – and there are like 100 of them – and fight with the HTML. And it’s not a picnic. At all. So it’s taking a long time. I think I’ve done about 15 of them so far. I’m a busy woman and it’s not the top of my priority list. It’ll get done, chickadee. Or it won’t. Whatever. If it bugs you so much, go read them on my old blog, which I have not erased, and where the formatting’s not so awful. It’s here. YOU ARE WELCOME.
You write REALLY LONG POSTS.
And your question is?
This isn’t Jeopardy. I didn’t realize this needed to be in the form of a question.
It’s called Frequently Asked QUESTIONS, not Frequently Made STATEMENTS.
Fine. I’ll rephrase. WHY do you write such long posts?
If you knew me in real life, you’d know I talk a lot. This is really just me, but in literary form, with some added exaggeration (for flava). I write like I talk: a lot, and with a LOT of asides. Tangents are my friend. I know that everything you read says to keep blog posts brief, otherwise you run the risk of losing readership; well, if that’s the case, those people can move onto a shorter blog. Don’t go changing, to try and please me.
Why do you use so many capital letters? That’s yelling, in internet-speak. It’s uncouth. It’s nicer to use italics.
Yep. I know. I was an English major, and also, I’m schooled in the ways of the Interwebs. Italics are classy, aren’t they? I DON’T CARE. I like capital letters; they better express me, as a person. I see an italics person as someone who has outfits that are color-coordinated, and a handbag on a little chain, and who puts a napkin in their lap while dining. I see a capital letter person as someone with a huge stain on their boob from dropping their barbecued ribs there and the stain didn’t ever come out, with a cowlick and probably some irresponsible piercings. I don’t think it would take too long for you to guess which person I am. CAPITAL LETTERS FTW.
You didn’t post today! I AM SO UPSET WHERE ARE YOU WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!
Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. These long, long posts? Take a long, long time. Some days I can’t write one. Sorry. I’ll make it up to you, baby. Don’t be mad. I bought you these flowers at the gas station! They are carnations dyed colors not found in nature! I love you!
Do you have other places online I can find you?
Was that meant to be phrased like a stalker? I’ll pretend it wasn’t. Yes. I am all over the internet. Because I am fancy like that. On the right, you can find my link to Twitter. Here’s me on Foursquare and GetGlue and Goodreads and Pinterest. I’m on Tumblr but I never update anymore because I’m a lazyass. I’m on Google Plus but unless you tell me who you are when you add me I probably won’t add you to a circle, so tell me who you are, you yahoos. I’m on Facebook here, or just hit the Like button on your right over there. It’s my blog Facebook. You can’t be my real-life Facebook friend, probably. You’ll know if you can. I’ll give you the secret handshake. It’s very complicated and takes a very long time to learn.
Can we go out on a date?
Well, I’m pretty much in love with Ben Wyatt from Parks and Recreation right now, but send me a resume and three references, and I’ll think about it. By the way, a date with me does include food and probably either a movie, theater, or mini-golf. Just a heads-up. It does not include making out unless you are really, really stellar, or Ben Wyatt.
Do you really hate people as much as you say you do?
Hate is such a strong word, isn’t it?
I notice you didn’t answer the question.
I hate YOU right now and you’re a person (I assume). Does that count?
Do you make any money from this blog? Also, can I send you something to review/talk about on your blog?
No, I don’t make any money from this. I think I should, don’t you? I mean, come ON, people, as a very famous blogger, where’s MY piece of the pie? I’ve had those WordAd thingys up there forever and I think I’ve made like $30 and they only pay out once you make $100 so I don’t think I’m ever going to make any money from them. And well, I suppose if you want to send me a free thing, that would be awesome, but here’s one caveat: if I hate it, I’m going to say mean things about it on my blog. So please send swag accordingly. For example: I would most likely NEVER hate a new car; I would most likely TOTALLY DOG on a female arousal cream. PLAN ACCORDINGLY. That said, I LOVE FREE CRAP. (And if you want to send me enough money so I can do this writing thing full time and also bon vivant all over the world, I will TOTALLY take you up on that. I wouldn’t even have to think about it all Indecent-Proposal style. YOU SEND THAT MONEY BABY.)