Melissa is back. She stole my purse.

But first, before she stole my purse, she opened my mail.

I walked into the kitchen and I said, "Hey, you opened my mail."

"No I didn'€™t.

"What'€™s this? What'€™s this opened envelope that is addressed to me?"

"Oh. That? I didn'€™t think you counted that as mail."

"What does it count as?"

"I knew it was from an author. I could just tell from the expensive stationary. So I thought it was like getting a book in the mail from a publisher. And you told me I could open those if I was looking for something to read."

"No. It'€™s mail."

"No. It'€™s not. Look. It'€™s from Jon Acuff."

It turns out he wrote a thank you note to me for mentioning his book on my blog. No kidding. That made me so happy that I forgot to tell Melissa she can never, in the rest of the history of her life, open any mail addressed to me.

It made me so happy that I talked about his book because you know what? I get like ten billion product pitches a day and there has to be some system for figuring out what I'€™ll write about.  So I try to just write about stuff that will make people happy.

Of course, I have to like the stuff too. But look, take this water: Hint. They sent me a press release saying that they are the game-changer in flavored water. At first I hit delete. But then I thought, well, my kids like flavored water and they are drinking way too much sugary stuff because I won'€™t let them drink our tap water because I don'€™t trust anyone out here who is testing water for nitrates. Because if the nitrates are too high then we would have to report our dairy-farming neighbors to the Department of Natural Resources. So I think people in our county ignore bad water.

We just spent a week in Steven'€™s Point, WI (at cello camp, again) and  I was excited that we were in a city (yes, a town of 25,000 is big excitement for us now) and my son could drink the water. But I took a sip and it tasted so weird that I stuck with bottled water. And now, it turns out, that Melissa, who spends most of her time here researching insane topics, comes up with this link that says Steven'€™s Point is the only place  in America that has better tasting water than New York City.

So this is all to say that I'€™m losing my ability to discern good water, so I had the inspiration to tell Hint that I'€™d write about them if they sent me samples. They sent ten bottles and we drank them all in a day.

So look, the water Hint makes is good. But it'€™s not like Hint is now going to be a successful company because I wrote about them. Anyway, they are already distributed in Whole Foods. How big of an impact could I have?

I'€™m telling you this to tell you how to pitch a blogger: Show the blogger how he or she can make a difference.

Look, if a blog has decent-sized traffic, it'€™s because the blogger is absolutely nuts about creating a fun, interesting experience for the community.  It'€™s pretty much insane to do the work it takes to have a huge blog. The blog is like a monster that always needs feeding or it becomes mean.  There are no vacations and there is no sure way to keep things from going south. It'€™s largely a labor of love.

So I don'€™t want to spend time on my blog plugging products that are not going to somehow help me or the readers. A lot of PR types know this, which is why they send me offers like I can give you guys a 10% discount on someone'€™s insanely stupid webinar. Like that'€™s going to help anyone in life.

I want to tell you one of the best pitches I'€™ve gotten in a while, though. It was from someone who is a regular reader of my blog, and she showed that in her email with little mentions of my pet peeves.

And then she told me, in a get-to-the-point-quick way, that she has been executing on a business plan and she has a model that is fundable, but she needs traction right now to show that if she expanded her line she could sell more purses.

I like that she has a plan, and I like that she showed me how I could be part of it. And I like that she sounds like someone I would like.

So I said sure. Send me a purse.

The purse came in amazing packaging and I told Melissa to take photos of it so we could copy it for our next book. Like, maybe the book could arrive in a nice box or something.

But then we realized that this packaging is way too expensive. The book would have to be $200. Which is pretty much what the purse costs.

Then I lost interest in the purse because I had to meet with the guy who I want to do my goat business with me but keeps refusing because he wants to be a millionaire now, not when the company sells.

As I'€™m going to the meeting, Melissa tells me that I have to use the new purse. It fits a laptop. Melissa packs up my laptop in the laptop spot and the phone in the phone spot and then I throw a fit that I can'€™t find the phone because I didn'€™t know I had a phone spot.

Then Melissa has me change all my clothes because she thinks I am retarded at dressing myself, which I think might be true, but she is retarded at interior design so I don'€™t feel bad, but I feel mystified as to why can'€™t I just think of my body as a room and then be better with my clothes.

I go out to the car and the goats follow me, of course, because goats are like dogs  but way more destructive.

As I leave, Melissa says, "The purse looks so good! It matches so well!"

Then I come home, and by the time I am done sorting through my mail to see if Melissa has opened any, Melissa has dumped my stuff on the floor, and the purse is in her room.

And I think that'€™s okay because Melissa loves the purse. And we will do something nice for Alesya. And so, too, maybe will a bunch of the readers, and then she'€™ll get funding. And then, maybe, we'€™ll do that again, with another company that pitches me.