One of the things I’m digging about being out on my own again is access to web nerdery like site statistics. Mostly, it’s the map that gets me all wiggly. Like this morning I got up, looked at my traffic report and oooh, hello Norway! And Singapore! And Australia! I mean, there are countries highlighted on my map o’ visitors that I’m likely never to actually see, but I’m there! Albeit, in a way less well-traveled out-of-body kind of way, but there! See also: easily amused.

About those archives: a couple of you have inquired as to why the drop-down box on the right (see? over there by the ads? hee!) only has the last two months of entries in it. Like I said yesterday, we’re not quite there. This  is probably way more of an explanation than you want/need, but here goes:  iVillage exported my posts and comments from Drupal to a very large XML file  – which, to my total frustration, WordPress does not seem to have a plug-in to import. My friend, Brooke (boy genius behind hour.ly), is going to try to write me a script to do it.  I type that with crossed fingers.

Speaking of – if you live in New York anywhere in the US, it turns out, and need part time work – Hour.ly is a nifty, newfangled site that acts as a matchmaker for employers with part-time gigs and folks who need ‘em.  There’s your public service announcement for the day!

Oh, bummer, you guys. I think I’ve given myself a migraine.  Yeah, yeah,I know that my triggers are stress and alcohol (the combination of the two, while not a given, is often the culprit) but I guess what I need to work on is figuring out when I’m under actual, for really real stress.  The  relaunching the blog has been a lot of fun, but I guess I didn’t realize how much stress it came with because I had a glass of celebratory blog launch wine and lo, the unmistakable pain behind my left eye is telling me that I’ve pushed it too far. I’m typing this with my left eye closed now and it’s surprisingly difficult. Unsettling. On the plus side, it gives me new appreciation for Rooster Cogburn (if you don’t know who he is, that’s your homework assignment), were he, you know, to ever have to type anything.

Okay, I go. To medicate and  sleep it off. And not puke.  Hopefully not puke. In the meantime, please help yourself to the Features. And thank you all again for such a wonderfully successful launch! You’re the bees knees.

Are you clapping? I’m clapping! And not just because now I get to take a very long nap.

What’s New
Before we get into how and why all this happened, let’s talk about what’s new. This Fish Features is new!  More service-y topics from friends and friendly strangers, from book reports (and a new book club! We’re reading Pretty Little Liars next month. Get some!) to financial junk to recipes and more.  The Ad Policy and Doing Good Policy are also new. In summary, I promise not to compromise the blog’s design or content for ads and I promise to contribute a portion of the profits from ads and donations to charity.  The design is new, too. Duh, right? And that’s where we get into The People I Need to Thank.

The People I need to Thank
Maura from The Paper Guppy, who so generously donated her services to design and print custom wedding invitations, is also the woman behind the new banner up there. I absolutely adore it. I said something about as specific as, “I wanna keep the fish on the bike, but, you know, more grown-up. Ish.”  Et, voila.  She got it exactly. Did I mention I adore it? Because I do. I also want to thank my awesome friends who’ve contributed to This Fish Features. You’re the best.

How and Why All This Happened
Okay, it goes a little something like this: after almost six years of working with iVillage, the blog was put through yet another redesign I had no say in, adding yet more aggressive advertising that made it hard, if not impossible, for you to read and comment. You shouldn’t have to close an ad just to read the site. You deserve better than that.  I mean, what’s the point if not conversation? The new “design” also completely stripped the blog of the brand I’d been building for years.  I deserve better than that.  This isn’t a news source. It’s a personal blog. And when you remove the person… Well, I suppose it could have worked out differently, but it because pretty apparent that after all this time, anyone who understood who I was and what I was doing for iVillage was long, long gone.  That was most obvious when the email came asking me to properly capitalize my headlines (and could they please be punchier?) and to conform with iVillage style.  I wasn’t supposed to conform with iVillage. I thought that was the point. It shouldn’t have surprised me that no one actually cared when I quit. In fact, my resignation went largely ignored; when I called to confirm receipt of my email, I got “kaythanksbye” and the line went silent. If I had any doubts about my decision, they quickly dissipated.

I want to say it was a difficult decision – knowing how desperately we needed the income to pay for the upcoming Fish & Dork Lord Nuptials – but it was easy. Yeah, I called my mom for some practical advice – hoping she’d talk me out of it – but she reminded me of the time I quit a job on principle, without another one to fall back on.  I remember being the girl who did what felt right, and who trusted in the Universe to take care of her.  I liked her. And I don’t want to be the kind of person who does things out of desperation – someone who doesn’t have choices.  So, I chose. I quit 24 hours later.

You deserve better. I deserve better.

A Few Important Items

• Comments are moderated. They don’t get published ’til I publish ‘em. Comments from nasty trolls probably won’t get published at all. Because I don’t have to!
• The site’s not perfect. We’ll be working on it a little at a time. Including uploading and formatting the old entries.
• Once there are ads on the site, I’m not allowed to encourage you to click on them. So, you know.
• Thank you, as always, for sticking with me. I appreciate that more than you know. And I look forward to the conversation.

This will be my last entry until January 4th.  I accidentally went for the decaf this morning, though, so there’s no promises on it being a coherent entry. You have been warned.

Last night I came home from work and in an unusual burst of post-work enthusiasm, decided to unload the dishwasher. And…there were cockroaches in the dishwasher, okay? I mean, that’s how the story goes. I unlocked and opened it, there were cockroaches inside – multiple cockroaches -  and then I totally fuh-reaked out. When the Boy came in from walking the dog and I was still fuh-reaking out, he very calmly relocked the den of disgusting and muttered something about bugs getting in through the plumbing.

Is that true? Bugs get in through plumbing?

I’m perfectly happy to blame our neighbor across the hall – the one who leaves boxes of used baby diapers in front of her door, the one who, when asked pleasantly to please not leave boxes of used baby diapers in front of her door, went on a very crazy rant about how she went to TWO FUNERALS THAT MONTH and therefore could not be expected to not leave garbage on the doormat – but the Dork Lord is blaming plumbing and unseasonably warm weather. I think he’s just trying to avoid any confrontations with the Dirty Lady’s imposing looking male visitor. But c’mon. He’s not that big.

This morning when I went out to my car, I made a quick stop by the dumpster where I happened upon a nest of kittens. First, I died from cute. Then, I thought, No! It’s cold out! Where is your mother? They’d all scattered by then, scrambling up and over the wooden fence – all but one fuzzy little bugger, with whom I had a rather lengthy conversation about whether or not he/she was warm enough and well fed. I did most of the talking. Anyway, now it’s well past noon and I have spent the entire time in between worrying about them. The current temperature outside is… seventy-two degrees, but still, if the Dork Lord comes home today and surprise! Five new babies! it will not be my fault. I am powerless against fuzzy things.

Except one fuzzy thing. The Boy has grown a beard. For the record, I LIKE BEARDS. My dad has always been a bearded dude, and I happen to think they can be quite manly and attractive. I think the Dork Lord’s beard is nice looking. But is it soft? HELLS NO. It’s long enough now that it should be soft, but the underside of my nose is Rudolph red – even a kiss hello is a test of my love and devotion because that facial hair is seriously rough stuff.

“You have to get rid of the beard.”

“Okay. How about in a couple weeks?” he says, starting the bargaining process. “Like, I can keep it until the New Year.”

“How’s a dry spell until 2011 sound?”

“Oh, come on!”

“No, you come on. Look at my nose,” I say, rubbing at the flaky skin. “LOOK AT IT!”

This is where I point out that my nose is my one true beauty and that if he ruins it, I’ll never be able to score a second husband when I’m ready to replace him. This gets me nowhere. I’d threaten to stop shaving my legs, but I do that periodically anyway and it in no way deters him from sexy time.

Okay, maybe I am powerless again all fuzzy things. Because clearly, I’m losing the Battle of the Beard. Though… if furry legs won’t stop him, perhaps a basket of furry feral kittens will.