Coy

I'm coy about my age in real and fake life. Not that this blog is fake life, but let's be honest it's not really real is it? I KNOW you're real people who read here, it's just that beyond a quick read and a tickle this doesn't affect your day to day. Which honestly I'm thankful for, could you imagine if I felt that what I wrote here could alter a persons life? How sanctimonious would that make me where my feet really touch the ground? I'd walk around thinking I was Mother Teresa reincarnated or something - and I'm not even Catholic. I think this blog has helped shape my own life though. The cathartic process of pouring out angsty issues like fake nails makes me saner. The ability to receive pleasure from my exhibitionist tendencies without causing my workplace to shut down - I mean do my employees really want my red bra and tummy on my facebook profile? Okay some would that's true, however I piss enough people off that my 'display' would anger my stakeholders and I'd have some 'splainin to do. Not good.

Switching gears I have my IPOD in my ear and am listening to Feist's Mushaboom, a song guaranteed to make me happy.

(oh ya and I'm still coy about my age in both places - to me age is irrelevant and shouldn't be asked. Unless of course you're under age. )