A few summers ago, my friend visited me in Richmond. While we lay on the banks of Belle Isle, we discussed our lives and soon discovered there were multiple things we partook in where we could be pigeonholed as being or doing one thing when we really don’t see ourselves that way at all. For example…well, I actually can’t give you an example because they’re all below.

We began to call these our farces. I’m not sure they’re actual farces in the Webster-Miriam sense of the word, but these are the lies we live. Below is a list of superlatives that could be applied to myself, but that I don’t personally associate with (yet I sorta have to):

You could call me a blogger, but I don’t call myself that.

Yes, I run this blog with Sara. And for what it’s worth, I’ve been writing for ATOB for almost two years. So I know why people call me a blogger – I do manage a blog that I co-own – but I’m not…well, maybe I am…but I’m not a blogger.