Wendy Dager is Kind of Famous

I was thinking of changing the name of this blog back to the original “Wendy Dager is Not Famous,” but it’d be a hassle and I’m lazy. 

I did change the word "Daily" in the subhead to "Dish," because I don't post daily. I don't mind being lazy. I just don't want to be inaccurate.

Also, one of the reasons I got rid of "Wendy Dager is Not Famous" was because it was time for a change. You never hear someone saying it’s time for a change back.*

Unless you’re talking about weight. Or hair color. And those things generally don’t successfully return to their original states, no matter how much effort and fat-free yogurt and L’oreal we put into them.

*Forget about Daylight Savings Time, the stupidest change back (or forward) thing ever. Ugh. Don't get me started.

Besides, I AM famous. Kind of. At my supermarket, I’m totally famous. I always feel so good when I go there, because everyone says hi, how are you, how’s the book doing, how’s the grandson, I saw your column, it was good, etc.

Then I go home and unload groceries and hit my head on the open hatchback of my car and break a nail and curse and realize I have a giant zit on my chin and that there’s dog hair all over the house and people are coming over to play poker tonight and my vacuum isn’t working. Because being kind of famous is uber-glamorous. 


Boy howdy, is it ever.

I am also kind of famous in an anonymous way. According to this blog’s sitemeter, I get more hits from people searching “I may be old but I got to see all the cool bands” than my name or my novel or my newspaper work.

While I am proud of this achievement, I am loath to think that my defining moment in writerhood is a popular slogan that I sold all my rights to. It's so... final.

Which reminds me of this: I once entered a write-your-own obituary contest.

Here lies Wendy Dager

A writer of some note

She couldn’t sell her novel

And that was all she wrote.

I guess I’ll have to think of something new for my headstone, since I finally did sell my novel. 


By the way, I’m almost done with the sequel to I MURDERED THE PTA. It’s called I MURDERED THE SPELLING BEE and it’s better and funnier and more complex than the first one. All that’s left now is for it to make me famous. 


More, that is, than I already am. Kind of.