Hello, everyone. I decided to start this online journal/blog because I need a means to vent my frustrations and this is much cheaper than a therapist. What could really be so terrible, you ask? You want to know? Well, here it is. I WANT TO DIVORCE MY FAMILY. Seriously. Ok…maybe all but one or two. The rest? Well, they’re all insane. How do you mean? Hmmm…well, let’s go back to the beginning. It all started 53 years ago when I ‘left the safety’ of my mother’s uterus and was immediately welcomed by my father’s warm embrace. That is, of course, after being blinded by an extremely bright, overhead fluorescent light, screaming for a bit (because I was utterly naked and it was freezing!), getting a quick sponge bath and then swaddled in a blanket.
At the time of my birth, it was really quite incredible. My eight older siblings had encircled the hospital bed, each grasping the outstretched hand of the one beside them, literally and symbolically forming a protective circle. They all gazed in awe at the amazing sight before them! After my father held me, once he’d had an opportunity to ensure I had all my fingers and toes as well as remark on my astounding beauty, he gently handed me over to my oldest sibling. She bestowed a blessing upon me and then passed me on to my brother and then he onto the next, and the next, until each of my siblings had placed a kiss upon my forehead, sweetly whispered loving words and blessings into my ear and promised to look after me for each and every day that followed. That’s when the magical unicorn appeared, my mother climbed on with me in tow, and then whisked us away to our castle at the top of a mountain.
Ok, ok…you’ve probably figured out I’ve been pulling your leg for a while now. The only ‘truth’ in the aforementioned paragraphs is the fact that I was born 53 years ago and have 8 siblings. The rest? A complete and total fabrication. The truth is, this was back in the day when fathers weren’t allowed in the delivery room. Even if he was, he probably would have opted to be elsewhere. My siblings? The younger ones were likely home at the time, doing something to aggravate the neighbors, and the older ones were probably engaging in some sort of juvenile delinquency.
The funny thing is (I find it a bit curious anyway), I came into this world without a name. You’d think with as much time as my mom had to prepare for my arrival, that would have been something that had been discussed and decided on. Alas, it was not to be. She had given the ‘honor’ to my oldest sibling, who at the time of my birth, had yet to make that determination. I spent the first 3 days of my life known as ‘baby girl’. Fortunately, after enough prodding and veiled threats, my sister eventually named me after her best friend. I guess it means something like ‘of the nobility’. I wonder if she had an awareness of its meaning when she bestowed that name upon me so many years ago? If she did…oh, the irony of it all!!
So where was I going with all of this? I think I got a bit off track. I will share more tomorrow. Until then, don’t wait with bated breath. Why? You’ll likely turn blue and fall over and you could hit your head and end up in the hospital and then you’ll have to pay a really expensive medical bill for something that could have been entirely avoided.