So for over 3 years now, I've kept umf around as kind of a safe containment chamber for my online presence, the brick wall that divides Public AJ (the guy that my parents raised, that people see at work and that most assume I am until I open my mouth when they meet me) and Private AJ (the one for friends, females, and Facebook) for the purposes of shielding most of the people I know and know of from the full extent of my personality before they can handle it.
It's been a pretty effective system of keeping the riff-raff away from the cool kids table all my alternate personalities sit at, and also a decent safeguard against anybody who would have their image of me suffer as a result of reading the streams of my consciousness floating around the internet coming across them. Well, anybody whose potentially negative opinion of my life I give a fuck about, anyway. Of course, if you know me at all, you know that list is short...and starts with my mommy.
Yes, that's right...recently the carefully crafted lie that passes for my mommy's (fresh uncensored critical) knowledge of my life came crumbling down, and it all started with a very awkward phone call that went something like this:
*phone rings, AJ answers*
Mommy: Hey, Anthony.
AJ: Hi, mommy! How are you today?
M: I'm just fine, thank you. What are you up to, my love?
AJ: Oh, volunteering at soup kitchens, coaching a youth basketball team, giving 110% percent at my job, bible study, saying no to drugs...you know, the usual.
M: Is that right? Aren't you a good boy, just like mommy raised you. I hear you're quite the writer, too...
AJ: Yes, I'm always on my best--*reviews sentence, remembers he has never mentioned writing aspirations*--wait, what?
M: Oh, yeah. I was playing around with the Google and saw a book cover with your name on it. (At least I know I've been submitted to search engines...) The book looked very interesting, it did.
AJ: *feels pressure, begins to scramble* Oh? There's a book out there with my name on it?
M: Don't play stupid, sweetheart. I know you...that lightbulb and crossbones is something you came up with. I've been watching you doodle since all your drawings of people had their arms and legs coming out from their heads.
AJ: ...oh. Yeah. So...did you get to read any of it?
AJ: *heart falls out ass* I...see. *expects to be sent to room*
M: I liked it.
M: Yes I did. I always knew you were a creative little thing, this only makes sense. I wish you wouldn't use that kind of language (lady, you have no idea) but I'm just glad you have plans beyond that job of yours. Your writing is good...I hope you do well.
AJ: Wow, thanks mommy! *beams* Wait...how much did you read?
M: The first few chapters.
AJ: Oh...okay. *thinks to self ,"good, she didn't get to the sex part or the part with the big personal confession."* Well, I guess since you know now, I can tell you I kinda have to go because I can't reconcile the mixture of pride, shame, and an odd relief that result from you finding out about my halo-deprived life and controversial writing career--I mean, work on some promotional stuff.
M: Oh, okay, sweetheart. I'll let you go, then. I love you!
AJ: I love you too, mommy.
M: Oh, and AJ?
AJ: Yes, mommy?
M: What's "under my fitted?"
AJ: uh...*crinkles peppermint wrapper in phone* You're breaking up... *makes mouth noises* I can't really... I think my call is dropping! *drops cell phone in sewer* Bye, mommy!
Okay, it's a little exaggerated, but it was still kind of a weird feeling to have parts of my life that really don't mesh come together...and more importantly, work well together. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to deal with this...I mean, it's not like you can make books and movies rated "E for Everyone but My Mom", so I suppose this just comes with the territory. If I can write shit that appeals to my twentysomething friends and can give my own mommy a chuckle or 2, I'm obviously doing something right. Still...I have a feeling Thanksgiving is going to be very interesting this year...