I thought long and hard whether to shroud this blog in mystery. Having done a little reccy to see what other people do, I rather fancied the idea of being ‘Girl, 22’. But that only leaves a month or so before my nuggets of inspiration would have to be filed under a different name.
So I set up an entire profile for an imaginary ‘Miss Jessica Clayton’ on another blogging site; only to decide that if I’m writing about myself, I may as well write about…well, myself. So here I am!
This decision comes with a few major drawbacks:
- I am going to have to face the embarrassment of people knowing who created this atrocity; if indeed it does turn out to be pants.
- I will have to be careful not to give my unwitting subject matter reason for offence, should they ever read it.
- I might not be quite so forthcoming about certain personal details – for example, Jessica Clayton would have had no problem transforming her mortifying experience in Superdrug today into an entertaining anecdote. But with my picture at the top there is no way it’ll be made public!
- Um…Stalkers?? Growing up in the Internet Age should have made me sensible of the dangers of posting personal information online, but in truth I’m pretty clueless what it is I should be protecting myself from. I have a Facebook account and have cranked up the privacy settings in recent times…but still, do I actually have 616 friends whom I can trust not to rob my flat the day my status reads ‘Weekend away – wooooooooo!’ (Come to think of it, who on earth has 616 friends? Facebook Friend Cull long overdue.) Or is it maybe that baddies (yes, baddies) could steal my identity? If so, steal away, Baddy; I’m not 100% sure of my identity right now anyway…but perhaps you’ll have more luck.
- Sam. My little munchkin. This is a definite awkward area, particularly as I expect he will feature prominently in most posts. I know there is something quite wrong about sharing tales of his tantrums and triumphs, but I can’t quite put my finger on what should be the main worry. I can see that a literate version of Sam would find ‘arrghhh why does he have to be so bloomin’ demanding?’ a little hurtful, but I’m sure I’ll be saying plenty of positive things to counteract the bad. (And also Sam, if you are reading this as a teenager/young adult, you should know that you ARE demanding. As are ALL children. So think carefully how you’re going to handle that kiss goodbye at the end of your date tonight.) I hope I’ll never be stupid enough to reveal our postcode, so I’m not sure his safety will ever be under question. The only other possible peril is of Sam being forever branded as ‘that famous writer’s son’. Gosh, think I might just about be able to risk it.
So this is who I am:
My name is Vicki, I’m a 22 year old single mum to a fantastic little fella called Sam. I’ve been a stay-at-home mum for the past two years, having dropped out of uni to have him. Since that magical, but oh-so-scary time, I’ve been lucky enough to devote all my time, energy and imagination to keeping him constantly entertained; it’s the way I would have done it if I’d had children at the ‘right’ time. But savings and my self esteem have dwindled somewhat and I think it’s high time to enter the real world. Quite when this will happen is uncertain, as I am currently on my 57th draft of my CV and it’s not looking all that impressive…but at least I’m on the right track. Quite why I decided that the time to start a blog should coincide with the stresses of job applications is beyond me.
That should do for introductions for now. There’s obviously more to me than what I’ve written here but I can’t wait to get started properly!
Just for the record, I DO NOT have an oversized bottom.