My intentions were never to write a "woe is me" tale; so I was caught a bit off guard when I had shared this link with a friend, and he forwardly said "ya know, I'm not going to read your blog because, with the way you described it, it sounds like a sob story."
Setting my damaged ego aside, I feel compelled to clarify my purpose for sharing my odd life with a random and small corner of the interwebs.
I'm biased, yes, but I think my story is quite hilarious. Sure, some parts are sad, and some posts were written when I was self consumed with insane amounts of hormones that surge through my body one time a month and I become an uncontrollable monster of rage, I digress. Some stories I look back on, and I truly laugh. It's funny. I mean, with all of the different men I've actually crossed paths with, one could almost have enough evidence to slap me across the face if I complain about being single!
I'd safely label the majority of this smallish corner of the web a tale of a person stumbling through life, learning as she goes...but damn, I'd HARDLY consider that a sob story. The words I choose can be fairly straight forward, sometimes snarky, sometimes funny, sad, or a mixture of all of the above...but I found myself getting offended when someone referred to it as a sob story.
Listen, life isn't always fun, with unicorns shitting rainbows and butterflies. Life is real. My life is real.
I've used pseudonyms because I want to be able to freely write without offending someone if they happen to cross this little corner and figure out who I am; although, more than half of the people I've shared this link with, I've done so because I'm not always the greatest at finding my words during conversations, so I clue them in that I've authored this place, and it's a piece of me.
Perhaps I'm more narcissistic than I've ever wanted to admit? Or perhaps I'm just a girl trying to figure life out with my stumbling moments leading my way? Meh, fuck it...I'm too damn fried to figure it out right now...and that's just fine by me.