“Why won’t you tell him what your blog is?”
The million dollar question of formal night.
“Because I’m embarrassed.”
Look, don’t ask me why I’m embarrassed because I don’t know. I get flustered whenever this blog is brought up.
It’s not you, it’s me.
I’ll say it again my precious little reader, it’s not you. It’s definitely some sort of chemical imbalance in my brain.
I would have been glad to eat my chicken and mashed potatoes without ever talking about this place.
Then someone (Barrett) said, “It’s aldtalks.blogspot.com” and I wanted to die. Roll me under a truck. Set me on fire.
And feelings of death usually put me into defensive mode, so I said “No it’s not. What does ‘ald’ even mean?”
Not the most solid argument I’ve ever made because then at least three people said “Autumn Lindsay Dixon” and somehow I still defended that aldtalks.blogspot.com was not my blog by saying, “That’s not my name.”
Since I detrimentally failed to convince anyone that that was not my blog, Ali said “My mom loves your blog! She talks about it all the time!”
I let it go then. Cool, people read my blog. Isn’t that why I have it?
Some part of me believes that you want to hear about tornadoes in Arkansas and my obsession with Utah, so I keep writing. And you keep reading.
That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.