As I was saying....
The stories you are about to read kind of follow how my brain works, where the meat of the baby is in the inappropriate asides and scribbled parentheticals.
Now, before we go any further, I would like for it to be noted that I am in fact, a lady. I know things about wine, red, pink AND white, I have a subscription to The Economist which I sometimes even read and I fold my underpants. I am a full-grown lady. I felt that I needed to put that into writing, perhaps, should you need to refer back to this when you start to think that surely I must be a potty-mouthed woodland creature.
I was born in Paris, France, to a successful business man father with a full moustache and a dynamite mother who could do it all. I have three sisters with classic birth order dynamics: the responsible leader; me; the patient peacemaker and the attractive social butterfly. I’ve always been widely regarded as the weird crazy one, but have spent my entire existence trying to prove that I’m all four. So far this has not worked out for me, it just makes me seem more insane and yet, I can’t stop.
I am not a literary genius. Nothing tragic has happened in my life that would lead me to develop a higher sense of self that I could impart onto others. I have never struggled with addiction, I had a good childhood and my parents are still in love. I am not writing these stories to give any sort of advice or to inspire. I just have some funny stories that I need to unburden myself with and that I think you would enjoy at my expense.
The stories in this blog are regrettably true and told the way I remember them happening. Some details have been changed to protect the innocent. If you are one of the people I wrote about, I am sorry.