If I can wear my jammies and hair combing is optional, then yes, I accept.

For the past week or so I have been a woman obsessed. I discovered Mahjong Connect on the MSWorld.org website and it has robbed me of my life in chunks as large as an hour at a time. I have never been a junky of any sort, and my need to play this game is alarmingly disturbing to me.

I watched a show on the gaming channel the other day (I don't even know what the name of the channel is) and it was a documentary all about these nerds who were so into Donkey Kong and breaking the all time record and reaching the Kill Screen, and rolling the score over, etc. I couldn't believe it. I switched it off, shaking my head at what pathetic losers they were to be so serious about a stupid video game. I just couldn't watch any more.

I had to get back to the computer to play Mahjong Connect.

I burned dinner while level 2 got the better of me, again and again and again. In my own defense, the biscuits out of the can never cook according to the directions and the tops were perfectly fine while the blackened bottoms stuck to the pan. And I can't help it that my stove timer's alarm sounds exactly like a truck backing up and I live on a busy street. It always takes a while for it to dawn on me that my dinner is probably in flames and that's what that noise is. My dad always said: "When it's smokin', it's cookin'; when it's burnin', it's done." (Why he had to say something with so much punctuation is beyond me!)

So tonite when I was reading my email and I broke out into an I-can't-believe-what-I'm-reading, joyous cacaphony of racous sounds, it was only natural that my son yelled "What did you do?? Make it to Level 3 finally??!!" He came running to share in the momentous occasion.

"No, it's better than that! I got an email from a guy who used to teach at Harvard and has a wellness website who read my blog and wants to feature me on his website!!"

His shoulders slumped and he headed back to his Xbox 360. "Oh. Call me when you get to level 3, okay?"

Who knows. Perhaps my misplaced excitement is better reserved for just that achievement. My nine year old may be smarter than I look.

Out of curiosity and (naturally) the need to brag to someone who might actually care, I wrote to BrainCheese to tell her about the letter. This was after Googling the good doctor and visiting the www.wellsphere.com website to make sure everything was on the up and up.

Good news is, there is a guy who fits the description of the author of the email who was a teacher at Harvard and is associated with the wellsphere website. Bad news (well, not that bad, but made me feel less "special") is that Linda got the same email, albeit with her site mentioned in place of mine in the letter...I'm assuming.

So the doc is trolling for bloggers to fluff out his site. Is that so wrong? Probably a good business move. The more relevant content, the higher his site will rank.

I was all set (before Linda burst my bubble and told me she got the same letter) to barter for an honorary degree from Harvard and, of course, medical insurance. Looks like that's out. DRAT!

Anyhow, anything that could take me away from Mahjong for even a little while is probably a good thing in the long run.

As long as I don't have to change what I do or when I do it or how I do it...I'm all for fame and glory.

Glad to see someone finally recognized my well hidden jeenyus.

So...you can all say you knew me when.

Mr. DeVille, I'm ready for my closeup! And I'll take that Academy Award now, thank you very much.