Once upon a time, I started existing.

Once upon a time, in a fairly boring place during a very cold month, a woman was super pregnant. Like "get this demon spawn out of me, she is way overdue and won't make up her mind about being born" kind of pregnant. To say she was anxiously awaiting the arrival of her precious baby girl was a severe understatement.

That woman was my mother. Little did she know she was giving birth to the single most awesome person she would ever know. Me.

My birth could say a lot about me. For instance, I am super indecisive. Mum went into early labor a week before I decided to make my appearance. That's another thing. Making something amazing takes time. You can't rush it. The more time I "baked", the better I got. Based off of my relationship with my mum now, if we had a conversation pre-birth about me being born, I can see it going a lot like this.

Mum: Please just be born. That'd be great.
Me: NO! You can't make me!
Mum: Well, actually, I can. I can ask to be induced.
Me: You wouldn't....
Mum: Try me.
Me: You are a thief of joy. A public menace. You are most definitely not my favorite anymore.
Mum: Psshht! (with a vulgar british hand gesture)

But my indecisiveness didn't stop with my birth. I am also indecisive about which book I would like to spend my hard earned book allowance on, or do I like those heels in black or red better, should I start a blog or just continue to write extremely long facebook posts that no one probably reads anyway?

But alas, a decision must always be made, this book over that one, the heels in black because I can wear them with more that way, a firm nudging from facebook friends to start a blog, and an insistent mother who is obsessed with the idea that I must be born. So she went to the hospital one last time...

....Aaaannd then I was born. Little did the world know that a true wonder was being born. The baby girl who had just exited her mother's birthing canal was full of sass, wit and a love of knowledge. This girl would grow up to fall in love with Doctor Who, words, The World of Harry Potter, the smell of books, and a silly boy with a penchant for building traps and obstacle courses, and pulling of pranks too elaborate to handle.

I thought the proper way to kick off my blog was much the same I was born. With fanfare and my mother's birthing canal. Enjoy.


P.S. not all my posts will be this random. But I can't write an awesome post right off the bat and set myself up for failure later on down the line, now can I?