Dear Michele,

You are cool beyond any possible dictionary word. I also tried the thesaurus but there are no words in there good enough for you either. I haven’t given up yet, though. I might have to coin a new word, but I’ll get you thanked, I swear I will. BabelFish wasn’t much help either; it just took all the old words and put them in some kind of weird order that didn’t actually match any known language. However, I’m giving you all the translations of my fumbling words of thanks.

Robotic translations are funny anyway; but it’s the reverse translations that are the best.

Ahem: Cases in point:

“Oh Michele, you are the tallest blogger in the world of known people, and writer is much appreciating the selection of choicest appearance and conversations of writing concerning me.” (French)

“Ach Michele, there are more blogger well-known in universe of knowledge, and writer wondrously adores fact of selecting for visitation purposes and declarations of affection.” (German)

“Bella Michele, you are the known more pleasant person in all of universal appealings and I appreciate them that you render the blog of the day within me!” (Italian)

“Θ*Μηθχελε, you are the more likeable person in the known world and I appreciate too much that me you have made blog the day!” (Greek)

“You Michele, you are the nicest person in the well-known universe and I appreciate very that you me has made blog of the day! (Dutch)

“Michele you she is the most pleasant person in the known universe and I very appreciate much that you fêz me to the Blog of the day!” (Portugese)

“Michele you are you is you will be most glorious persona in the znannoy universe and 4 very much appreciate that you made with me blog day!” (Russian)

Thank you, Michele, for making my blog the Blog of Choice for today. I wish today’s post had been more interesting, maybe something OUT of the laundry room for a change, but maybe household dirt is something people can relate to.

If enough people keep tuning in to my blog, maybe I’ll stop talking about my current life of dirty socks and towels and kids and start giving details about my past life as a pole-dancing Gulf War spy, co-operator of Mr. Yamamoto’s Pediatric Hospital and Whorehouse, and opera-singing fry-cook. NOBODY cracked my disguise, I’m tellin’ ya. Finest Kind.

Now, can anybody tell me where I stole three of those absolutely genuinely true references in that paragraph? (Maybe not completely true, but sorta true. ) (Okay, maybe not even sorta true, but cool anyway.) (Maybe not even cool, but interesting.) (Or not.) (I did steal them, though.)

Thank you, Michele, for making my day. Heck, you may have made my whole life so far.

And you picked a good day, too. Because until I turned on my computer and discovered what you’d done for me, it was not a very good day. It’s still not a very good day, but you made a little island of delight in the middle of the sadness, and for that I will always be grateful.

I bow in your general direction.

And in the general direction of all the lovely people who are coming to my site and commenting.

This gives me the general look and appeal of an unanchored windmill but that’s okay. I’m so appreciative and awed, I don’t care.

Thank you all, from the heart of my bottom. And believe me, that’s a LOT of thanks.

Love, Mamacita