Brigham Young Would Have Blogged

By the way, I have no idea who these people are. 

Okay, you know what's weird? Looking at peoples' blogs. Just scrolling through the list. It's like flipping though total strangers home movies  or listening in on phone calls. Passing people on the freeway and catching them doing something gross. Mormons, particularly young married Mormons, appear to have many blogs. I just read a blog from a 26 year old woman Mormon who loves her husband and her new house and her life more than anything in the whole world, and I was filled with jealousy and rage. Why is my life so complicated and ugly right now? I also read through the blog of a depressed girl who used a lot of pink and poetry and bad fonts (isn't that what adolescence is all about: bad fonts) and some air force dude whose bleached out,  fluorescently lit blog made me tired and bored just looking at it-I mean, if linoleum could be made into a blog, it would be this guy's. 

Lots of conservative muslim womens'  blogs. I guess if you spend your days in a chador you're going to be rather pent up at the end of the day, bursting with commentary you have to put somewhere. 

And look at me.  Reporting  on it to my  imaginary audience. Hello. Can you hear me, you boys in the back?

This may be the most masturbatory act of the 21st century outside actual masturbation: blogging.

Perhaps I should start by introducing myself. Hello. I'm the fat and forty female of the title. Poor too. I live in a pretty little house (yes, the irony, I know. Grateful for God's grace..) in the hills behind Los Angeles, with my adorable child and multiple adorable pets. This is not my guinea pig, nor my sink by the way, I just like the picture. 

At any rate, I was hooked to the morphine drip of My Family's Money until last year. . It was devastating. I could write a book on how angry I was, how unfair it seemed, blah blah blah, but the startling truth is that my life began, in many ways, when that happened. I can't say it was an accident, it is and has been the central drama of my life for as long as I can remember. How to live on my own, doing something I love, for money. Taking care of myself and my loved ones. Being who I am and being recognized for it. My family may be completely crazy-in fact, they are completely crazy, but unfortunately that's not an excuse that I can work with right now. It doesn't pay bills or feed us or make me happy. It's not tenable, so to speak. So I move on. Blogging all the while. 

God, is this blog just so self indulgent? Forgive me, dear reader, if it is. I'm new at this. As I am with many things right now. 

BMI 28, Money in the bank:$119.20

Anthony Kiedis. Sigh. 
I'm likening this to renting out a gymnasium for a party to which noone shows up. That sounds kind of loserish, like oh, noone is going to read this, oh, woe is me, but in all seriousness, are there readers who stumble on blogs like this? I don't care. I mean, I hope someone reads this. Maybe I should liken it to a message in a cyber bottle, tossed on the stormy seas of the internet, and if it washes up on someone's screen, terrific, but if it gets caught in the kelpy deep with the other wreckage (like the original goatse) then so it is. 

I asked for a sponsor today. I called this lady from my DA meeting (more on that later) and left a message. I have this secret fear she's going to make me give up my writing, and become like, a nurse or something. And you know what? I'm going to surrender to God and if He wants me to give up my creative stuff, then okay. I surrender.