I’m reading Joan Rivers’ book and it’s so inspiring. I am so tired of happy people and their unicorn bullshit I could puke. I especially hate how adorably funny Kelle Hampton thinks it is to take my criticism of the glitter queefs she calls “writing” and “totally rock it.”
I recently discussed with a friend about how I blog in fear. I have an audience of friends, family, and strangers, and I censor and edit myself because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I don’t want to bring upon myself Kelle Hampton’s hot-glue-gun-wielding happiness harpies, Nicole Marie Story’s non-barfing vegan objectivists who “shall” tear me a new one, or any of the other trolls. I’m not GOMI, and I don’t want to be, but we are cut from the same cloth.
Rivers doesn’t worry about the people who swallow the blue pill, and neither will I.
I chose the red pill. I’m a red pill choosing kind of gal. It’s a new year and I am ready to be the writer that I am. The person who wrote without tip-toeing around other people’s fucking pedicures.
Today is one of two days of vacation I have where my daughters Viva and Pringles are in daycare, and I don’t have to work, so this is just a quick note before Odie and I pop the leftover champagne from New Year’s Eve at two o’clock in the afternoon.
Tune in Mondays and Thursdays, when my blog will be new! That is my commitment to you. I shudder to click “publish” because this is a huge commitment. I’ve been the blog version of your fuck buddy for a few years now. The one you text after the other two don’t get back to you or have other plans. I’m ready for us to take it to the next level and start seeing each other for real.
To those of you who are new to me, welcome. For those of you catching up on my blog, welcome back. To those of you who read my blog because you hate me, you are in for a treat. I am going to give you everything you want and more.
Happy New Year!