When I first typed those words seven years ago, I only wrote them because I didn't know what else to say. I didn't actually have anyone on the Internet to welcome. I just didn't know what else to write. There is something terrifying about first posts and new blogs. Everything is fresh and shiny and uncorrupted. I swear this blog even comes with that lovely new car scent. One good fart and it's ruined forever.
So I'm sitting here, in my brand new space, with the cursor blinking at me, huffing that shiny new smell, and worried sick about farting. The fear of farts is paralyzing me, so to speak.
I'm christening my new blog with a fart metaphor.
Turns out you can take the writer out of Redneck Mommy but you can't take the redneck out of the writer. Go figure.
I like the new digs. I take no credit for them, not even a tiny little bit of credit. I asked the all powerful and creative Schmutzie from Ninjamatics to help me put down Redneck Mommy. I gave her two directives: Keep it clean and kill Big Red.
And so she did. She's magic I tell you. Thank you Elan.
Things are a bit different around here, so feel free to poke about a bit. I'm still learning the ins and the outs of the Squarespace platform and to be honest, it feels a bit awkward.
Rather like how I look while trying to dance.
For those of you who aren't ready to let Redneck Mommy go, no worries, you can make your way through those archives because I've brought them along to my new space. They are here somewhere. Click that big yellow circle that says Attack of the Redneck Mommy. It's all right there. It's a little blog inside a blog. Schmutzie outdid herself. Go on; click the circle. You know you're curious. I'll wait.
Pretty nifty, no?
I'm not really sure what the future holds for me, or for this blog. Honestly, I'm freaking out more than just a little bit. If I had a dime for every time someone told me they decided to read my blog based solely on it's name or its design, well, I wouldn't have had to save any money to pay for this redesign and I'd be able to afford a jug of milk.
Tanis Miller isn't a catchy name, and heck if you spell Tanis with two n's instead of just one, and type in my url (tanismiller.com) it will take you to some hot Canadian blonde in a bikini. No word of a lie.
I totally look that good in a bikini. In my imagination.
(There is something about women named Tanis who have a thing for bikinis on their blog.)
I've thoroughly gassed this new space now, haven't I?
I'm not going to post any pictures of myself in a bikini anytime soon. You're welcome and I'm sorry. I'm not really sure what I'm going to be doing in this space, except for being me.
Tanis Miller, with one n and no bikinis. And apparently, a bit of flatulence.
Welcome to my new space. Sorry about the smell.