The Weezie Meter

As I embark on a new life as a blogger, I’ve had several friends say to me, it’s okay to be personal, but not too personal. Be careful of what you say.

And I tell them I am. I have the Weezie Meter.

Weezie is my mother-in-law. She reads my blog. Hopefully daily. I know anything I post she will read.

I judge things I’m writing on a scale of one to ten. One will make Weezie smile and think I’m sweet and write beautifully. Ten is going to elicit a look of horror and perhaps a firm reprimand.

I’m thinking the picture of her? Probably a 9.5. She doesn’t like having her picture taken let alone posted on the internet.

When I went to write about a Winnie-the-Pooh towel Jeanine brought me the other night, I thought to myself, can Weezie read this? It’s funny. Who else but a suburban housewife is going to have a Pooh towel in the linen closet let alone brought to them… uh…

No. Can’t have Weezie read it.

Sarrr-ahhhh! She’d yell at me.

She’s been incredibly supportive of my writing. But I’m pretty sure the towel story is well over a 10.

I know half you out there are thinking, why does a lesbian need a towel? Can’t go there. It’s off the Weezie Meter.