And now a break in our regularly-scheduled programming for a total geekout.

This is not a real post, mainly because it’s late, I spent most of the evening doing things that were not this, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight. And I KNOW, it’s supposed to be I-answer-all-your-questions-day, and trust me, that’s coming. Maybe tomorrow, or maybe Friday, because tonight I’m going to dinner with my theater ladies so we can have our monthly try-new-cuisines dinner. We’re trying Korean tonight. You know what Dad thinks about that, right?

“WHY WOULD YOU EAT KOREAN FOOD? THEY WANT TO BOMB US. IT’S LIKE *YOU* WANT TO BOMB US IF YOU EAT THEIR FOOD!”

Thanks, Dad.

I told him I was an emissary, like Dennis Rodman. He didn’t think that was funny at all.

Aw, BFFs!!!

Aw, BFFs!!!

So ANYWAY, we have some totally exciting geek-out news here at the Football. What could it BE, I wonder?

Some of you already know what it is because I emailed some people and I posted it on Facebook and also Twitter. I couldn’t help myself. I was so excited that I had to tell SOMEONE, dammit. Or a lot of someones.

OK, so, if you’re a blogger, you know about this (well, a WordPress blogger, anyway) but WordPress has this thing called Freshly Pressed. Freshly Pressed is where these people who work for WordPress read a bunch of posts, and choose ones that are their favorites and highlight them on the Freshly Pressed page. See, if you click there, you can see the ones they’ve chosen recently. Aren’t they pretty?

Here's the badge you get once you're Freshly Pressed. There are little hearts and EVERYTHING. Ooh! Ah!

Here’s the badge you get once you’re Freshly Pressed. There are little hearts and EVERYTHING. Ooh! Ah!

Being Freshly Pressed means that a lot of people see your blog. And read it. And comment on it. It also means your blog is probably not garbage, and someone at WordPress has actually read what you have to say, and approves. You probably will get more followers. It’s all very fancy. (Dad said, “What’s the prize?” and I told him “More recognition and followers?” and he harrumphed. Dad doesn’t get the blogging thing, yo.)

Now, how do you get Freshly Pressed? You write posts without too many cusses. You tag posts appropriately. You put in pretty photos. You don’t write insanely long posts. You don’t have typos all up in that bitch.

Well, I don’t cuss (much, ya bastards) and I use photos (some say TOO MANY photos) and you know I hate typos like some people hate spiders or maybe pine tar. OMG CAN YOU IMAGINE SPIDERS COVERED IN PINE TAR. Wouldn’t that just be the worst?!?!? Otherwise…um. Yeah. I don’t use tags. Because when I moved over here, I didn’t understand the tagging system, and then when I figured it out, it seemed like too much work to start it up, so I just put everything in categories, which was the lazy woman’s way out. Don’t ever let it be said I don’t like the lazy woman’s way out! And as for writing posts the length that someone might read…heh. Heh, heh. You’re all my loyal readers, you know my issues with editing. And yet you still love me! Aw, you GUYS!

So I thought, oh, well. No Freshly Pressed for me. That’s cool, I can live without that, I don’t care, I have the best followers ever, anyway.

Some of my favorite blogs have been Freshly Pressed. Some of my favorite PEOPLE have been Freshly Pressed. If you’re reading a WordPress blog and you see a little Freshly Pressed widget on the sidebar, like the one up there, you know they’re super-special and sparkly.

Well, last week I wrote the post about Steubenville. And I thought, this is something I’d like more people to read. This is something that could benefit from being Freshly Pressed. So I actually tagged it. And sj tweeted Freshly Pressed, and they responded that it was a powerful piece, but they’d already highlighted some Steubenville posts. So I figured that was a nice “too late, Charlie” and oh, well.

Then I got the itch to write the body-shaming post. Which was odd, following on the heels of the Steubenville post. Usually my rants are more spaced-out. But when an inspiration comes, I think you just go with it. So I wrote it. Oh, and I loved how it turned out. And if you know me at all, you know I don’t like ANYTHING. So for me to like how it turned out – that’s something.

So I tagged it and sent it out into the world. Fly free, little post.

It got read. And commented on. And shared. And I watched the stats rank up, and people mentioning that it should be Freshly Pressed, and I thought, nah. It won’t happen.

But shh, I wanted it to happen. Because I wanted more people to read it. Not ONLY because I wanted more people to read my blog (hell, can we all just be honest and admit we want that? Why else are we here?) but because – well, I assume most of you read that. Think of how that might have changed you, having read it as a kid. I sure as hell wish I’d read something like that as a kid. The thought that maybe, just maybe, someone might read that and share it with their kid…or react differently toward their child…or toward anyone’s body…well, that thought made me so, so…hopeful, I guess. Hopeful that maybe things could change, a little.

But nah. Me and Freshly Pressed? Nope.

I did a guest post at Black Box Warnings yesterday (which you all should read if you didn’t – I like how it turned out, and was so honored to be asked to be a guest, especially somewhere I admire this much) and the stats were racking up over there, as were the likes. I was having a good day. So many comments to reply to, both here and there. Lots to do. A blog to write when I got home.

Then I went to my salon to get my hair done (I needed a trim, I was getting frazzly) and got there much earlier than planned. So that meant extra time to play with the phone! Wrote some emails. Read some blog comments. Just about to go into the salon and BAM. Email with this subject heading:

Congrats, you’ve been Freshly Pressed!

Because I’m a weirdo, the first thing I thought was, “Which of my friends is screwing with me right now?” Then I thought, “Oh, maybe for the post at Black Box Warnings? That’s ok. That was a pretty good post. And the blog deserves it. Good.”

Nope.

When I opened it up, it clearly was FROM WordPress. And stated that my post “You’re Gonna Carry That Weight; Carry That Weight a Long Time” had been chosen to be Freshly Pressed.

NO.
EFFING.
WAY.

I cussed in that post!

It was SUPER-LONG!

I didn’t have any personal photos! I actually had less photos in that one than I normally use!

AND YET IT WAS STILL FRESHLY PRESSED!!!

(Can we just revel for a minute that a post with a Beatles song lyric for a title got Freshly Pressed? I think my most beloved John Lennon, somewhere, wherever, is liking that very much. I know that I am.)

First I said (pardon my language please; in real life, sometimes I’m cussy) “No way. NO FUCKING WAY.” Then I reread it. Then I made a noise like a puppy if you accidentally step on its paw, which is kind of a yelp-whine. Then I started crying. Five minutes before my hair appointment, because THAT’S how you want to go into the salon.

I then forwarded the email to sj with the message “OH HOLY SHIT SJ WHAT THE HELL?” and to Eric with the message “I’m pretty sure you and Sara just got me Freshly Pressed” (they totally inspired me to write the post; I’m not even going to pretend that came out of the ether, they deserve the due credit for this one.) Then also I emailed more people because GEEKING OUT. Then I was late for my appointment so I had to run but she made me wait a half-hour so I emailed ALL THE PEOPLE with “I KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW” and “I’M PRETTY SURE THIS WAS SENT IN ERROR” and “I KNOW I AM CRYING IN THE SALON WAITING AREA.”

And now I am home and probably this would be a lot more effective were I to wait until it was actually UP on Freshly Pressed to geek out about it but here is my reasoning why I can’t do that:

  • if I had to hold off on this news, my head would explode.
  • I don’t know when it’s going up so how long would I have to wait, exactly? Good grief, this is like waiting for Christmas when you’re four years old. IT’S LIKE IT’S NEVER COMING. (Not a euphemism.)
  • Most of the people on Twitter and Facebook and here have read it already so it’s not like I’m ruining anything for new readers. (But if you want to read it again, go to, jellybeans. Plus read the comments. They are wonderful.)
  • I AM SO EXCITED I CAN’T EVEN.

So, once this happens, although Dad thinks there should be a monetary prize (sorry, Dad), I think this means there will be new readers. You GUYS! New READERS! We should be very nice to them and not scare them off, unless they are asshats, then we can totally scare them off, I don’t even care. Are we all so excited about the potential for our little tea social to become this gigantic rave? Wait, if it’s a rave, is it going to be like one of those foam parties I saw on 60 Minutes one time? Those look totally unsanitary and someone there is sure to get a yeast infection and my grandmother said “That looks like someone spilled the dish soap. AMY DO YOU THINK SOMEONE SPILLED THE DISH SOAP?” and I told her yeah, probably.

Don't do bad touch, you'll catch the herp.

Don’t do bad touch, you’ll catch the herp.

Also, that post? So many people will be reading that post. And maybe they’ll share it with other people. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll reach someone it’s supposed to reach. Like the equivalent of a young-me. Or a young-you. Someone who really needs it.

I can’t even pretend I’m too cool for school about this, you guys. It’s a total honor, and I’m so jazzed about it I keep bopping around the house like a Muppet.

FRESHLY PRESSED.

Seriously.

No, seriously.

Holy hell.

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About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

45 responses to “And now a break in our regularly-scheduled programming for a total geekout.

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