Lesson 27: Who am I and How Did I Get Here? (Part One)
Or: Things I learned from my last blog
-When starting a personal blog, it’s best not to use your email address as your blog name, because even the stupidest of abusive ex-husbands will eventually think to Google that.
-When starting a replacement blog after getting sick of said ex harassing and stalking you on the first blog-use a pseudonym. Because the only way you can actually be honest, ironically, is by hiding behind a fake name. And start said blog with a nice introduction post to help readers get to know you.
Hi! I’m E.B. Cummings! But you can call me EeeBee!
This is me:
I’m a mom, a wife and an ex-wife, among other things. I have four children. They are Ayla-age12, Violet (Vi) age 10, Kira, age 8 (this week!) and Mason, who’ll be two in November.
This is Kira:
And, This is Mason. Sort of. You try taking a picture of a 21-month old
commercial for Adderall boy. All of his pictures turn out like this:
Or, you know, this:
Yes, my two other children presumably have faces too. They live with their father right now and pictures of them are few and far between. (Note: See “Douchetruck”)
-If that sounds cheesy and trite, you can always try the renowned “Fake-Interviewing-Yourself” technique, in which you make up questions to as yourself and then answer them, whilst trying to sound as un-schizophrenic as possible.
Q: So, are you one of those bitter divorced women who is just going to whine about her ex nonstop?
A: Maybe. Sometimes. In my defense, my ex is a huge douchetruck. And he made me name one of my kids after a crayon.
Q: Will you blog about other things or post pictures of cats? I hear that’s popular these days.
A: Our cat is really boring. She mostly just lies around and meows and stuff. (Although I suspect at night, when we are sleeping she entertains herself by rubbing her asshole across our lips. Because she’s a cat and cats totally do shit like that YOU KNOW THEY DO.)
We do however have dogs that may guest star from time to time. No matter how much I bribe them, they won’t let me balance shit on their faces and take pictures though, so if that’s what you are into, you’ll have to look elsewhere. However, Isis, our very large husky/Rottweiler mutt has a highly entreating Darth Vader phobia that I enjoy exploiting for lol’s and lulz. Because she’s a big dog and she could totally take a Darth-Tater and the pair of Darth-bedroom slippers I inexplicably purchased for my husband years back.
We also have another dog who might occasionally star here-probably in a post entitled “Shit my dog ate” And he’s a Chihuahua/Mini-Pinscher/JackRussell mix that was originally named Berry by Kira but we felt that we had to give him some dignity and thus shortened it to the more manly “Bear”.
Q: Okayyy. Moving on. What else can readers expect to find here?
A: Hmmm. Well. I’ve been blessed with several chronic illnesses. This occasionally puts me in some surreal situations. Or situations where I’m forced to poop in a trash bag while following instructions that feel the need to remind me not to drink anything from the provided poo-collecting cup.
I try not to get too maudlin about the whole I-might-die thing because, well, everyone is going to die. My pancreas might rot out in ten years, give or take, but you might get hit by a truck tomorrow, so it’s all relative. (And I apologize to the guy whose mothers brothers second cousin twice removed was hit by a truck last week.)
So, yeah. Where was I? Oh right, poop. Aside from my own poop stories, well I have kids. And pets. And anyone who has those knows that, on some days, LIFE TOTALLY REVOLVES AROUND POOP. Because even my eight-year-old still leaves poop crumbs in various places. Sorry Kira but OMG LEARN TO WIPE.
Q: And thanks for that. I think it’s time to end this as we are crossing the border into crazy-ville.
A: I think you’re right.