Hi Mom

My sister spilled the beans at dinner.

David Scrimshaw has always maintained that everyone's mother knows how to google. Turns out mine didn't until my sister let it slip at the dinner table tonight.

"So I could google you?" she said to Amy.

"Yeah, sure," Amy replied.

Mom turned to me. "And I could google you?" Amy looked stricken. She knows my blog is the first thing that comes up under my name.

My face froze. "Uh, I guess."

Poor Amy didn't look up from her plate for several minutes. But it's okay, it was bound to happen.

So. Ahem.

Hi Mom!

Welcome to the virtual place where you can learn things about your daughter you probably already kind of knew, but maybe didn't really want to know. Certainly that your daughter was maybe kind of uncomfortable having her mother know about her.

But hell, if Chloe the porn star can bring her parents to the Adult Video Movie Awards, certainly I won't die if you read something about me kissing girls. Or see me with pictures of binder clips on my chest. Or whatever other horrifyingly personal things I have written and will hopefully continue to write here.

I'm assuming you're going to find this as soon as you get back on the computer.

Here's an idea. How 'bout you pretend you haven't found it? That way, I can keep writing without censoring myself too much, and you can know lots more about my life than I would tell you (and 99.9% of the rest of the world) in person. Is that a deal?

Good, good, glad to hear it.

P.S. I love you.