Due to circumstances beyond my control, I became the proud recipient of a beautiful, sparkling shiny golden crown this past Thursday.

When I sent out the e-mail to my immediate co-workers and supervisor(s) that I was leaving to fetch my crown and that I would not return for the day, I received a flurry of e-mails, all of the smart-assed variety: "I thought you were a goddess, not a queen!" "Did I miss the Miss America Pageant on TV last night?" "Oh! I forgot to bring in my tiara - we could have been twinsies!"

I replied: "Can't I be both?" "Yes!" and "Yes!"

That's me, Miss Goddess-Queen America.

The funny thing about it all? Yesterday I had lunch with a friend, eating the same manner of food that I was eating when I broke the tooth that required this gold crown, and I ... broke another tooth, same region - in fact, the upper plate equivalent of the one just crowned.

We won't know until next week whether I'll need another crown on it, but if I do? I'll not only be the first woman in my department to be crowned Miss Goddess-Queen America, I'll hold the title twice.

(Guest-posted by ETS because your illustrious host and his lovely wife have made a run for the border, not to return until Sunday at the latest. Or so I'm told....)