The Lion, in a fit of energy brought on by a mixture of Vanilla Ice Cream and Kahlua, has created a new award, as the title indicates. (I mean, why say it again? That’s what headlines are for, right?)
I digress. As often as possible.
The new award awards anyone who exhibits great courage and heart in the blogosphere by revealing aspects of the self that can benefit the rest of us, or some part of us humans – pick a number. But more than that, the awardee girds up his or her loins*, plucks up his or her courage, and charges out into the world to do good in spite of his or her problematic self. (Yeah, I know, I know. It’s the Kahlua, but I want to get this out.)
The first award goes to a redhead dynamo who lives in Winnetka, Illinois and may have worked almost as many jobs as the Lion. But that’s not what the award is for. Nope. This young woman (she claims 51 – The Lion’s thinking she’s lying and is really thirty or so) suffers from… well, here, she tells it better:
I can and frequently do spend days not interacting with my friends in a “real” way. I’m scared of travel. I’m scared of flying. I’m scared of just about anything outside my door. I have panic attacks. I believe there is nothing more annoying than an emergency room doctor saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, it’s all in your head.
This frightened bit of redheaded fluff decided to do something about it, and vowed to leave the house and go meet all three hundred some odd of her Facebook friends last year. And went and did it. That’s tough fluff. Very tough fluff. She blogged it all at her blog (well where else would she blog?) Go look.
Because she was profiled in a WordPress promo piece she no longer has some three hundred FB friends. Last I noticed she had about five thousand, almost overnight.
She will therefore no doubt have forgotten our amusing exchange of yesterday, but nonetheless, Arlynn Presser of Winnetka, Illinois, is hereby awarded the very first Lion’s Mane Furry Badge of Courage, suitable for wearing with dress clothes, casual clothes, and bikinis.
Congratulations, Ms. Presser! You da winnah! You can pick up your Badge of Courage, giftwrapped and all combed and coiffed, next time you’re in the neighborhood.
* Does anyone know if girls have loins? Men always get the loin line in adventure stories and various holy books, but dames?
[Yeah, no more ice cream.]