Being Vix
I often come across emails, comments, and even other blogs that say something to the effect of “I wish I were more like you.” That makes me cringe. That is the antithesis of warm-and-fuzzy–it is a big fat oh sweet merciful crap. I do not belong on a pedestal. Even if someone put me up on one I’m such a clumsy ass that I would fall off within minutes. I beg you, don’t put me on that fucking pedestal. It’s hard enough living up to my own expectactions without worrying about hundreds of others.
Vix is not my real name. It’s nothing remotely close to my ordinary blah name. The avatar in the right sidebar is a real photo of me, but thanks to good lighting and a clever angle you can’t see my rounded tummy (all those Oreoes and ice cream have to go somewhere). I’ve got cellulite on my ass which an ex-boyfriend not-so-fondly referred to as “hail damage.” I like to think I’m smart but I seem to be afflicted with a permanent case of dumbass.
