The latest Disability Blog Carnival is up at Planet of the Blind. Someone submitted a couple of entries of mine, along with the following comment:

Even when Mark Siegel is trying to be cranky, he’s still funny, in that Minnesota kinda way.

How devastating. I’ve been trying so hard to get a jump-start on the years of cranky middle-aged bachelor-dom that lie ahead. I went out to the mall and bought a whole stack of Dockers. I’ve been watching lots of golf on TV. I have a ginormous leather sofa on backorder at Macy’s. But it just isn’t taking. Maybe if I force myself to listen to an entire Norah Jones CD…

Also, please define funny as it pertains to the “Minnesota kinda way”. And don’t you dare utter the words “Garrison Keillor”. Because that kind of shit just is not cool.

The BBC’s Ouch! website had the fine idea of featuring several guest bloggers for the next couple months. You can can read the guest bloggers’ profiles and find links to their original blogs here. And the BBC isn’t the only media outlet looking to give greater exposure to bloggers with disabilities. New Mobility magazine is highlighting several people who are currently blogging or trying their hand at it for the first time (although I’m not sure why no new content hasn’t been added in over a week). It’s good to see lots of talented gimp bloggers starting to get some recognition. Go give them some love.

There is something about having a disability that seems to serve as an invitation to certain people; an invitation that says, “Please, come on over and be socially inappropriate with me.” I was at a restaurant last night with my family to celebrate my mom’s birthday when a server showed up unbidden at our table. She asked me if my name is Peter because I look like this guy named Peter who was once a student at a school where this woman worked as an aide. And boy, does she have a funny story about the first time she had to change Peter…

I caught my sister’s eye and quickly looked away before either one of us began to laugh mercilessly at this woman’s magnificent cluelessness. Who are these people who seem to confuse me for some other gimp from some indeterminate point in the past? Are we really that difficult to tell apart? And I can’t tell you the number of times complete strangers have approached me (or more often, the person I’m with) to share some story about a cousin/neighbor/student/whatever with a disability that resembles mine in only the vaguest terms. It’s like I’m one of Proust’s madeleines; the sight of me stirs up memories about Peter or one-legged Uncle Walt or the kid with CP who used to live down the block. Which is all fine and good. But, people, write it down in a journal and leave me alone.

I would have written an entry yesterday, but it would’ve been something boring like “ohgod ohgod my head my head mommy my head”. Things are under control now and the cause of my discomfort has been eliminated. I’m a little disappointed that nobody followed up on my request for a sensual massage, so I’ll remind you that my birthday is coming up next month.

I came across an interesting photoessay from the New York Times magazines that compares the images of real people to their avatars in on-line role playing games. I’m 99.8% percent sure that this gamer has spinal muscular atrophy. It’s kind of like gaydar. You know it when you see it.

Thanks to Xeni at BoingBoing for the tip.

This would look so cool sitting on my desk:

If you happen to be at ComicCon next month, pick one of these up for me. Not only will I give you the requisite thirty bucks, you’ll get a signed, mimeographed, stapled copy of WTF?: The Best of The 19th Floor 2002-2007.