Why I am here

In my real life, where I walk, talk and eat food with real people, I am a regular girl. To most eyes, I am confident (despite being 30 pounds overweight), positive (even though I know I have contemplated suicide more than once) and balanced (in spite of very regularly losing my temper and beating someone up).

But that's just to everyone's eye. Me? I think I am insecure -- about the way I look, about my effectiveness at my work place, my talents, about the way I talk. Just about anything is fodder for my insecurity. And while the last thing I will do is admit that I am insecure to the rest of the world, I do, however, want a place where I can be completely myself without the inhibition of worrying who I am offending, whether my mother's reading my pieces, whether my partner's going to go off to have an affair with the bag lady after he reads what I write.

I just want that space to say that I realise that my once best friend is jealous of me and all she ever wants to know about my life is if I am doing better than her. That my aunt annoys the crap out of me, and most of the things that I say I am interested in, I am not. I am just pretending to be interested so you can think I am intelligent and, if you are attractive, to get you into bed with me or at least hunger for me; to say that every once in a while, my partner is such a lazy fuck that I end up doing many things he should.

I want to be able to say that I have never ever had an orgasm during sex -- not with my partner, not with my girlfriends, not with my boyfriends. But the good thing is that I honestly believe that the ride is important, the destination just an afterthought. And since I usually get there on my own, I can't complain.

I want the freedom to admit that I don't care so much about having kids and I very well may never. And since I am nowhere in my early 20s I can safely say that this isn't a juvenile oh-i-am-so-terrified-of-labour statement. It truly comes from my belief and the fact that the world has too many people already.

Anonymity has never been something I have actively sought. In fact, I love being the centre of attention -- as long as you don't put me on stage to speak. Ask me to dance, I'll wow you so that you come in your pants. But ask me to open my mouth and say something, and I'll amaze you with a disappearing act that will put ole Harry Houdini to shame.

I have few secrets but those secrets are deep, dark and dirty. I would never admit them, face to face, to a single human being as long as I live. I have, on occasion, confessed my transgressions to the grave of a dead person. But that's as far as I will go. However, on this blog, who knows.

I am shallow and for the most part, don't mind it. Only because depth is not something you can cultivate like a good manicure or a set of air-kissing friends. It's like the ability to be multi-orgasmic. You either have it or you don't.

I like dogs. I like cats. I live with one of each.

I love to bake, work with clay, write, cook. I hate to eat. But I will eat anything for survival, for experience, for bragging rights.

I hope to post once a day, every day for the rest of my interested life.