When did I get to this lofty status? Was it when I succumbed to my vanity and ditched the ".blogspot" from my domain? Was it when I published my 100th post (a gripping exposé on Graham's refusal to eat normal amounts of food)? Or what about that time I dared to blog about the ethical implications of peeing in my bishop's pool, thus catapulting the literary caliber of this blog from "random neurons bumping into each other within Kimber's brain" to "deep, sensual journalism that exposes the inner workings of small-bladdered mothers in the gritty metropolis that is Houston, TX"?
No. Because as wonderful as those blogging moments were, they didn't make me any money, which is kind of the standard criteria in determining whether someone is "professional" at something (except being a mom blah blah blah preaching to the choir!).
But all that changed recently, when I received a lovely email from Amazon informing me that they needed more information from me in order to MAKE PAYMENT for advertising fees, meaning someone had clicked an Amazon link on my blog AND ACTUALLY BOUGHT SOMETHING.
I logged into my Amazon affiliate account like a cheetah, curious to see what had been purchased and, more importantly, how big my payday would be. Maybe it would be enough for some trendy baby moccs (because we all know that is really the mark of a professional blogger). Or maybe just enough for the blue nail polish I've been lusting after as of five minutes ago when I was trying to think of a low-priced item that I would like. Heck, maybe a song on iTunes?
Or maybe 72¢. ....so not even enough for a song.
And I don't even get paid until I've accrued at least $10, which will probably happen when I'm forty.
Do you want to know what the mystery shopper purchased on Amazon?
A Superman snuggie.
For some reason this seems very appropriate. I'd like to think my readers are lovers of art, fashion, and America, and let's face it, this snuggie embodies all three. It's not something I ever linked to, so I'm assuming it was found through a particularly treacherous Amazon rabbit hole, fraught with banana slicers and unicorn meat. I hope whoever has it is reading my professional blog right now, wrapped in their cozy polyester Superman pelt.