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.