Viral

When I started writing, I was in the end stages of a long term relationship with a lazy hippie. I had spent nearly a decade trying to love him into being a better man. He really only wanted to smoke pot and day drink, while I had visions of white dresses and one last baby. It came to a fiery end, and I continued writing to keep myself company in my suddenly empty house. Being single was new to me. I’d had a boyfriend since I was 14 and really had no idea how it looked to not belong to someone. I’d lost myself entirely and didn’t even know what I liked or disliked anymore. I distinctly remember someone asking me what my favorite color was, and his favorite shade of blue instantly came to mind. I think it was the first time I had the chance to get to know myself. (For the record, I like purple.)

I collect skills when I’m bored. I learned how to rewire my garage when the old stuff started to short out. I taught myself to knit. Youtube and Google give me FAR too much confidence in not ever having to ask for help. I’ve made chicken wire bean tunnels, built furniture and retiled the kitchen. Currently, I’m trying to figure out how to cover the old brick fireplace in my living room with stone.   It sounds fun, but it’s more like haphazard crafting ADHD.

I did some hysterically funny dating. I was so uncomfortable with myself and in my own skin that I hand picked the weirdest weirdos I could find. I wasn’t uncomfortable if I wasn’t attracted to him, so I got my feet back under myself in the strangest of circumstances.

I learned that I definitely have a type.

Ok, maybe more than one.

I flew 15 hours to Puerto Rico for a first date with a fellow blogger who’d romanced me for a year. It turned out he was a married psychopath. Just because a vacation is free, doesn’t mean you should go. Also, con-men should avoid bloggers. I may be a little too adventurous for my own good, but I have no regrets because it ends up being a lesson either way.

I met the perfect guy. We fell in love instantly and made a beautiful baby together. We broke up just before she was born. We’re friends now, and share her peacefully. He got married right after she was born and they live in a different state.

I stopped writing. I’d had to look at a 4 inch tall stack of printed out blog entries in family court for an entire year. It’s all fine and good to be proud of your blowjob, but do you really want to have to discuss it when your baby’s life is on the line? No. Let me assure you. You do not.

One thing still silences me faster than anything, though. When the stats go shooting to the sky and WordPress chimes at me all day that traffic is booming. Yesterday was definitely one of  those days.

Once upon a time, nobody read this shit. For the first five years, I posted pictures of my children, my house… hell my naked ass is on one of the many that have been set to private. I refer to it as my journal and my friends laugh at me because they’re reading it too.

It still surprises me when the floodgates open and I make a thousand new friends in a day. Especially when new countries show up on the map. This morning it was Bosnia and  Herzegovina.

Hey there… nice to meet all of you! Feel free to introduce yourselves 🙂

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