My First Blog

I was hanging out with some friends....okay scratch that. I heard some people talking on the bus the other day about how mentally soothing having a blog was. Somehow, the world has opened up and is available for rants, advice or whatever type of madness that spurs in your mind. "It's a type of therapy, really" one disillusioned teen tells the other.



Therapy, huh? I guess I can take some therapy. And, free therapy at that. It must be my lucky day.

I'm sure my sister, Joie, would be thrilled that I am starting this thing. To her, it would the closest I've ever came to going out and making new friends. You know what I say; friends are so overrated. What is it all for? Social contact. Everything is about social contact. People have this insane need to connect with others and get justification that they aren't completely fucked up. They need to meet people just like them, just as fucked up as they are, to know that they aren't the craziest person in the world. That is where that 'birds of a feather' crap comes from.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox. What do people do in these blog thingies anyway? Do I talk about myself, my life? Or, do I make one up to make myself more interesting and appealling to millions of people I don't really know? Whatever. I'll just tell the truth; I am about as creative as I am interesting.

My name is Happye Porter and I am an event planner from Chicago. I have an older sister Joie, who is married to a Chicago Bear. My parents live in Rockford, IL.

Okay, that's it. My life in a nutshell. Really, that is all there is to my life. I wake up, I get on a train, I go to work, I get on another train and come home. That is it. Every now and then my sister convinces me to come out to one of her "party of the slobs", but that is pretty much it.

I guess I can share something personal. Okay, something personal; I am overweight and, believe it or not, I am not as happy as my name may make you believe. I haven't had a date in over five years and I don't have any 'social contacts' outside of my sister. I don't talk to my parents anymore and I live in a old rundown building on the southside. Truth is, I am lonely; eventhough I wouldn't admit that to anyone.

Okay, that is about as personal as I will get.