It's downright silent around here.

Having pointed your attention towards the comment blogger, I thought by now someone would have stepped up to the plate, at least to say hello and we're out here, if no other commentary came to mind. Instead it's like listening to a remake of the sound of silence, and I'm here feeling all alone.

Alone and blogging.

Which is kind of an oxymoron since technically, blogging is a solitary thing, and I really have no right to bitch that there's not a single response lately to speak of. Had I but considered this fact, I might not have set myself up for disappointment when adding this feature to NWTLO. I did however, have faith that my mother would not fail me, and would be one I could count on for a comment, even when my posts were inordinately boring. And yet, Mom has let me down.

What is a girl to do when her entire family drops her in the grease failing to leave comments or send a simple email inquiring as to what she would like for her birthday?

Have I mentioned there are only 8 shopping days left!

Trust me when I tell you, that no birthday of mine has ever gone (1) unnoticed, or (2) off without a hitch. It seems birthdays and me are a recipe for disaster. Something always goes wrong. Take for instance my 25th birthday. A birthday I felt was marking a milestone in the life of Stacey, as I was no longer closer to my teens than I was to my 30's. 25, being such a venerable age, I considered that my birthday present would be something great indeed, an extravagant present from my parents to mark their successful rearing of a responsible member of society.

Instead I got a doll.

Now I know you are all thinking that a doll must have been some well thought out joke planned by my family to egg me on over being such a brat about my birthday. But I kid you not, there was absolutely no joke involved. In fact, my Father was quite proud of himself, thinking he had hit the jackpot this go round with this birthday present.

It was not to be.

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. But I tried to be cool and tried to keep from saying what I really wanted to say which was, "Is this some kind of sick joke? Or am I really supposed to take this one seriously?" I just looked at the box, a stupefied expression on my face and managed a very small thank you, thinking all the while that I must really be an ungrateful brat to never be happy with a single birthday gift my Father has ever chosen. (Remind me to tell you what he got me in 4th grade, that practically had me in tears.) All the while thinking to myself, that even as a child, not counting Barbies, I was never one to play with dolls, let alone ask for them as any type of gift ever.

So this is what is making me nervous, because I am a brat and nobody other than my Mother, has asked me what it is I would like for my birthday. No one has even mentioned that fact that they took a look at my WISHLIST at Amazon, a place I intentionally directed them to in hopes they might choose something from my list. Instead, I am left with the sinking fear that they have all decided to go it on their own once again, to find me the "Perfect" present.

I have just one thing to say ...

It's never too late to check my list at Amazon people!