Asking for it

My mother found out about this blog soon after I started it, and immediately my gut clenched, my palms got sweaty, and I thought, "O poor readers, imagine all the fun stories I COULD have told you." And then I realized that tapeworms lead more interesting lives than I do, and nothing I could ever write here would require password protection.

Yesterday, however, my mom informed me that she stopped visiting this site after she saw this post, presumably because happier words could never be typed again, except for maybe, "Hey Mom, I'm getting married! To a man!" So, let the games begin! If you see me walking around with a limp, black eye, or missing a patch of hair, you'll know I was doing some investigative journalism to keep you satiated. You can thank me later. Or now. With cookies.