When I first started this crazy blogging journey I was adamant I was going to be an anonymous blogger.
Put my thoughts out into cyberspace and no one would ever know it was me.
I knew I wasn’t clever enough to come up with a name other than my real one, I dabbled with a pseudonym on some of the yahoo groups – Satine, yes from Moulan Rouge even though I had never seen the movie some guy said I looked like her. Um… I don’t – but I would always forget and sign my name Kelley or be all ‘who the fuck is Satine?’ and blow my own cover.
I made up ORIGINAL and CUTESY names for my kids. Turned out that every fucker was calling their kids Moo and Boo and Too but CLEARLY I was the first.
I knew I would never post pictures of my kids – well recent ones anyway – and I would never post a picture of myself.
Anon for the WIN!.
I would make millions of dollars and be a blogging superstar but still be able to wander around Target un-noticed.
So real first name, no last name, cutesy names for my kids and no pictures.
What else could I do to protect my anonymity?
I know. Change my birthdate.
Easy. No one would be able to find my true identity if my birthdate was inaccurate!
I knew I wouldn’t be able to change the day, cause OBVIOUSLY my millions of loyal followers would want to know when my birthday was and shower me with frankincense and myrrh – when frankincense and myrrh means shoes and cash.
So I changed the year.
To protect me from internet crazies camping out in front of my bedroom window to watch me wearing wooly socks and drooling into my pillow until I tried to turn over and got caught up in my hair and thrash around a bit thinking I was being devoured by an Giant Squid.
It could happen you know.
The Giant Squid, not the getting tangled in my own hair. That happens FAR too often.
And knowing your birthday is all those crazies need.
Oh and day release.
Fast forward years and now I am a blogging old timer.
People from my workplace have found me. A chick in a Autism Support Group I ran found me. People have sent me stuff in the mail and talked to me on the phone and know all my deep dark secrets.
And I have posted photos of myself on the internet.
And I am going to meet my peeps in real life.
My cover is blown.
So I have one last thing to divulge.
I changed my birth year.
I am having a birthday on Saturday.
The Big Four OhMYFUCKINGGODIAMGOINGTOHAVETOBEAMOTHERFUCKINGGROWNUPNOW.
I am going to be 40.
Not 39 – cause what woman in her right mind would change her birth year to protect her anonymity on the internet to make herself a year OLDER.
On Saturday I will no longer be in my 30’s.
And that is doing my fucking head in.
I always planned to have a big party with a bouncy castle and a margarita machine.
Other girls dream of their wedding day, me… I had my 40th planned.
I mean EVEN MY HOME STATE was celebrating my birthday by having a long weekend.
It was going to be epic.
And then circumstances changed that. And a situation prevented me from having my dream party.
And I am OK with that
no I am not and now I will have a nice afternoon tea with scones and jam and cream to celebrate my elderly status.
So there you go, I guess this is my penance for lying to my internetz. Will you ever forgive me for
lying to you stretching the truth to protect me from putting the lotion on my skin or getting the hose?
This is the only thing. Promise.
*crosses fingers behind her back and smiles sweetly*