Thursday

We won't know if we're getting the house for sure until next week. We have the renter's application in hand and she'll pick it up Monday, run our credit, and then we'll see. I don't anticipate any problems, but I know better than to count on anything until it's a done deal. If she changes her mind, there are other houses out there. Not that I want to go looking for them, but we'll find something.

And because it became a very minor issue in comments from the last post...the wishlish link started out as a joke. It's been there for 4 years and until now no one, other than the chosen few, has noticed it. Those few people knew it was there because they asked for it. Initially it was littered with obvious eye-rolling things: a 42" plasma TV, mega-expensive computer systems, a Segway scooter...and toothpicks. Cinnamon flavored toothpicks. When the joke was over and friends wanted something different, it morphed. It's no more realistic because the crap on there is pricey, but...so?

Thing is, I've had links like that for years and no one noticed. To me, that was funny. But to have it called disgusting...that's not funny. The commenter didn't ask why the links were there, just called it disgusting. She didn't bother to find out that the Bike Fund link was there for one specific person, who pledged 52 cents if there was only a way to get it to me. She didn't bother to find out that when he coughs his 52 cents up the link will disappear. She never asked for why the wishlist was there or knew about its million-dollar-list origin. She just assumed.

Look, a lot of people have links for donations, links for wishlists, links for porn, whatever. Some people have tons of text ads--click on those and they make money. It all ads up to a big fat shrug of the shoulders and a hearty"So?"

If Murf ever coughs up his 52 cents, the bike fund link will go. The wishlist link is there for friends. It stays. No one says you have to click on it anymore than you have to click on the text ads on other peoples' blogs. I expect nothing, other than email from those friends who want to know when I'm pulling my head out of my ass.

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