It's been ten years since my blog the OEN was up, and I have missed blogging dearly at times. I mean, I'm SO funny and SO interesting and have SO much to say about this amazingly fucked up world, after all. Meaning, I'm SO full of crap. But the craptacular can make for some pretty entertaining reading while you pretend to pay attention in a meeting full of millenials, am I right?
Enter Vix, v2.0. More like 8.0, because since OEN faded from existence with a whimper I became a big fat wino, was diagnosed bipolar, moved from Texas to Oregon, got sober, quit my architecture career, and became a full-time fantasy writer. That's a lot of iterations of selfhood. Maybe that's why I have ballooned in size so much? Because there's no way it has anything to do with my consuming half a package of Oreos at a time since discovering my teeth were good for more than biting my baby brother.
OEN was largely about dating and sex, which I'm sorry to say probably won't be the focus here on ATPHP (which now that I type out the acryonym sounds like a futuristic form of ADHD that mutated from excessive psychopharmacology exposure). I plan on writing about life in general with glimpses into what it's like to be a virgin writer (can I say that considering that technically I am a published author, even if I did so under a pen name and it sold only a hundred copies? Oh, and also, I am not a virgin, although by this point it's highly likely it has grown back, much to my dead grandmother's righteous delight).
Then again once I start dating (hopefully after omicron tapers off, cross your fingers and uncross your legs on that) and having sex, you probably won't be able to get me to shut the fuck up about it because I will be a floodgate of horniness being reawakened and unleashed on the greater Portland area.
In the meantime, I plan to write about getting my former nympho body back (no small feat, as I am currently quite the chubster, as my level of underboob sweat likes to inform me on even the most chair-bound of days), dieting without giving up bacon, cheese, or ice cream, what it's really like to be a full-time and under-accomplished writer, and generally writing about life in a way that would make Samantha Irby want to be my new best friend (although strictly over Facetime, because we're both too hermit-like to leave our homes except when under contract (not that I have any contracts requiring my public presence, at say book signings, food truck endorsements, or episodes of Shrill--YET)).
To answer a few questions that may not have even occurred to you: No, I do not know how often I will be posting (actually, yes I do: whenever I damn well feel like it, and not a minute sooner). Yes, I will be sure to post links to new posts in my Twitter feed so you don't have to check my blog ten times a day (although please do that anyway so you can drive my visitor count up). No I will not fuck you to practice my out-of-practice blowjob skills. And yes, I really am blogging again, which I know has been your greatest dream come true since they made gluten-free Oreos.
(And no, I cannot guarantee that future posts will not have excessive parenthesis usage. You'll just have to gamble on that one, my grammatically judgmental friend (why judge the parenthesis? They're hugs for words!)).
It's good to be back, my beloveds. xoxo
Vix
welcome back!
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