I’ve always been eager to share stories about myself on the internet.
Sharing stories is in my blood, I guess. As a kid I sat in the car while my mom dropped off her weekly column at our local newspaper. It was very Carrie Bradshaw, if Carrie lived in a suburb of Houston, Manolo Blahnik was TJ Maxx, and Big was a chemical engineer with a collection of t-shirts with my photo on them and an endless stockpile of dad jokes (hi, Dad!)
As an incredibly popular teenager in the late 90s/early 00s, I faced dilemma after dilemma: update my killer wardrobe at Wet Seal, or update my Geocities page? See Titanic with the cutest boy in school, or fill out another one of those e-mail surveys? Memorize Spice Girls choreography with my girlfriends, or tweak my AIM profile?
In college it was more like, finally learn how to play beer pong or start a new Livejournal?
To this day, I suck at beer pong but can start a blog in three minutes flat. I still struggle between being social and staring at a screen of some sort, but luckily these days, it’s okay to have invisible internet friends. Confession: no cute boy ever asked me to see Titanic, but if he did, I would politely suggest we watch it on our separate Netflix accounts and live-Tweet it.
All this to say, I can’t see myself not blogging, so you’re probably stuck with me for awhile.
I’m a writer and non-profit marketing professional living in Minneapolis with my husband (Y), dog (Ike), and fetus. I always have a jar of peanut butter handy, my next trip to New Orleans planned, a list of 12 books I’m planning to read on my nightstand, and something pretty I snagged on super sale at Anthropologie on my desk.
Ike has a heart on his butt!
He does! This is my favorite thing to point out to small children who admire Ike on walks, but I usually don’t get further than “Look, he has a heart on…” before their parents pull them away and add me to the sex offender registry.
I love your handwriting!
Thank you! I spent my high school and college years believing that if I only had cute handwriting like the popular kids, I too could have a boyfriend. So I’ve had a lot of practice.
What kind of doctor does Y want to be/when does he graduate?
I know it’s confusing, but he’s an internal medicine resident, which means he graduated med school and he already is the doctor he wants to be. He just doesn’t get paid very much. If I sound annoyed, it’s only because this is the eleventh time we’ve been over this, CASUAL ACQUAINTANCE WHOSE SMALL TALK IS LIMITED TO “WHEN DOES Y GRADUATE?” Sorry. Sore subject.
Where did you get that ____ you’re wearing?
Target. It was probably Target.