Stealthy Blogging the Mahala Way

Dang ya'll. It seems like everytime I say "tomorrow we'll talk about so and so," I never post on "tomorrow."

I worked hard this weekend tending to various domestic duties. It was nice to come back to the Asylum this morning where I could sit on my butt and put my feet up under my desk. If I could just get the housework situation caught up, I might be able to actually do something fun on the weekends.

So anywho, lets pick up where we left off, shall we? BetteJo asked, "How DO you get away with writing all this - nobody at work knows? Or wouldn't Bubbles and Thelma know how to use the interwebs?"

The only people that I know who are aware of my blog are the Amazon, a handful of her friends (who don't live here) and Lulu. The Amazon used to read it daily when she was away at college, but now that she's back home, it's only if I beg. Lulu doesn't have my blog addy, but when I've written something I'm particularly proud of I'll print it off and give it to her to read. When she finishes with it, she feeds it through the shredder. She's very respectful of my obsessive stealthiness.

Bubbles knows I have a site where I write. I used to talk to her a little about it when I did PayPerPost, back when I felt guilty for not being her bestest buddy and was trying to be a better person. (I'm over that now, by the way.) I was always careful not to give her too many details, I learned my lesson last time. She had even approached me once and asked if I had ads on my "site." I told her I had a few and she insisted that I tell her the address so that she could go there and click them.. just to help me out.

I was born at night, but not last night baby.

Goober please.

As for the computer skizzles of Bubbles, Thelma and Louise, one could say they are limited. I don't worry too much about them hunting me down on the interwebs. I do, however, worry about my work computer, especially when I'm off. I clear my history every day before I leave and occasionally when I go to lunch. I know that talented IT professionals wouldn't be stopped by my clearing my history, but we don't have any IT professionals here, talented or otherwise.

There is the fear that I'll be found out and end up like the now famous Dooce, who blogged about work, was fired and ended up a media sweetheart as a result. Now, if you lose your job due to loose lipped blogging, it's referred to as being "Dooced."

I don't think I could be fired for blogging about the office. I don't name the company I work for, nor do I use anyone's real names. (Ya'll didn't think I really worked between Lulu and Bubbles did ya?) I don't think I've ever mentioned the product we manufacture and sell, it's a little too scary with the company website up, listing my real name etc. It's unfortunate in a way, the combination of the product we sell and Bossman's real name make the single best one-liner ever and it KILLS me not being able to share that with ya'll.

I suppose I could get my wrist slapped for blogging from the office, but only if they reprimanded Bubbles for reading Christian novels at her desk, Lulu from Googling the occasional genealogy tidbit and Thelma and Louise planning and booking their entire beach vacation every year online.

At least I have enough sense to be discrete.

Anywho, so yes BetteJo, that's why the name of the blog is "Hidden Mahala." Mahala was the name of a well known Melungeon back in the 1800s, who was rumored to be over 400 pounds and sold corn liquor from her bed in her little log cabin. They say when she died, they had to cut a hole in the wall to get her out and build her coffin around her bed. I'm no where near that hefty, but I admire the story of her spirit. From what I've read, I suspect she suffered from the same disease I do (Familial Mediterranean Fever or FMF) and I know her life, back then, was way harder than mine is today. Using her name helps me keep that in mind.

Mahala is also an old Gypsy word (I'm descended from a line of Scottish Gypsies.. well we think anyway.. who knows?) used to refer to a section of town, like instead of the "French Quarter" you'd have the "French Mahala." I'm told that in modern times, it's more commonly used to describe the ghettos where most Gypsies live.

So yeah, this is my little "hidden mahala," my little corner of the blogosphere, a virtual neighborhood where I can go to escape from the nuts in the Asylum. I've got great neighbors too :o)

Okay, I'm gonna run now, before I start paying homage to Mr. Rogers by breaking out in song.

Ya'll take this Monday by the cajones and show it who's boss.. kay?

Later Taters!