For the second day in a row, I happened upon someone’s blog that invited me to play along. This time it was preppygirl, and I, being the polite southerner I am, willingly obliged. So here’s what. I’ve been assigned the letter ‘N’ (gee, thanks, you coulda given me an ‘S’, huh?). The pointless point of the game is for me to give you ten words that start with my letter and then a brief description of what those words mean to me. And here’s where you come in. Mention in my comments section (yeah, even you, Kristie the Evil Lurker Girl) if you’d like a letter of your own, and I’ll happily pass one along to you.


Did you hear that? Don’t worry. That was just Stew Magoo. Leaving. Hee hee! C’mon Stew, pway wif us!

So, here goes. I’ll attempt ten ‘N’ words because, as you know, I am a good sport. I am also crazybusy and gladly welcome free ideas.

Nenna ~ My younger (and only) sister’s nickname. And let me tell ya, this sistah rocks.
Nincompoop ~ The beloved term my alcoholic fifth-grade teacher had for kids who got the answer wrong. Yeah. ‘Cause, you know.
Nanna ~ The only thing I will allow my grandchildren to call me. I don’t have them yet, of course. And won’t — hopefully for a long time. But I’ve never had a Nanna. I’ve had grandparents, but I never called anyone Nanna.
Nystagmus ~ A weird-sounding medical symptom I had once. I’ll always remember it because they thought I had M.S. Turns out I didn’t. And that was hella cool.
Neon ~ Not the car. Not the gas. The lights. I love ’em. When I went down to New Orleans recently, it was wonderful to see the neon lights lonce again lighting the windows in the French Quarter.
ew York City ~ Never been there. And I want to go. Fortunately, so does Miss Priss. She has informed me that when she graduates from high school, she wants to take a trip with me to NYC. And I’m there, y’all. I am so there.
Ninety-nine Luftballoons ~ Yes. You all know the song. It has no meaning here. However, it popped into my head when I was thinking of words that begin with ‘n’ and damn if I can get rid of it now. You can’t either, now, can you? Mwah ha HA!!!!!!!!!!
Nearly ~ Done.
Nasogastric tubing ~ Again. No meaning. It’s like the luftballoons.
Nothing ~ Zero. Nada. The old goose egg. The amount of stuff I have gotten done since I took on this little assignment.

But yay — I’m done! My work here is complete. And you, dear readers, have to play along. Ask for a letter in the comments and then post your list to your site or in my comments section. Don’t make me come after you.

Because you KNOW I’ll tag you.