Sex Sells...right?

"You're trying to kill me slowly, aren't you?...AREN'T YOU!!" This has been my mother's opening line on the phone for the past two weeks. And, as I predicted, last night I heard that exact line when I answered the phone at approximately 7:00 pm. Now, you're probably wondering why I allowed my mother to read my website in the first place. It's simple...I like readers. And because I don't pay to have it hosted, my site is rarely (besides yesterday) visited by "randoms". I have come to look forward to comments more than I look forward to e-mails, which is strange because I absolutely abhor having people proof read my academic essays. But, my blog is different. My blog is my "creative" outlet now that I don't have courses to take at school *sigh*.

My blog is NOT a diary, make no mistake. My lifestyle has changed a lot during my year off from school and with the summer I had this past year in which I (almost) almost died (for real), I honestly believe that I deserve to have fun (PG 13 rated fun, of course). I'm not the psycho stress case that I was last December, I'm not the no-time-for-fun girl and I'm learning to enjoy it. I no longer wake up on Saturday morning with a guilty, empty feeling because I don't have papers to write or exams for which to study. I'm content with my life and I figure that this is the best time to document it and, of course, LIVE IT UP!.

So, when my mom informed me that my innuendos (which are, of course, all jokes) about certain topics upset her, I was shocked (well, not really, I've known my mom for too long). I know that my somewhat "crass" references to sex...that's right people, I said it S.E.X...may be innapropriate for my reading audience, but I've always been told that "Sex Sells". That's what the people want, Bryanna! So, that's what I've been giving you.

I told my mom that if it upset her so much, that she should not continue to read it. But, I knew this was a moot point as my mom has never resisted the temptation of reading our diaries (which I'm sure is a fault of every mother). Her reply to this was something along the lines of, "I liked you better when you were playing in the backyard"...to which I replied, "I left the sand box a long time ago, mom, even though I may still be carrying some of that sand in my shoes". In the end, I promised to "chaste-it-up" for my mom, if only to let her sleep better at night, stop calling me at 9:30 a.m. on the weekends and spare me from hearing the "you're trying to kill me" line again.

So, from now on I will only talk about my digestive system, the food I eat and my night time routine...enjoy!