Introduction

Dear my surely vast amount of fans,

I have just spent three and half-hours creating this, as you call it, “blog”. I refuse to believe “blog” is a real word, but if I don’t say it this may not exist, so I’ll humor you.

I had no idea it would take me so long to finish. Why do you have to know HTML to put a picture on the background of your blog? You don't have to know any special code to put a picture up on a wall. If I want to put up a piece of notebook paper with the words "Signed, Prudy”, I just tear a piece of scotch tape and stick on the stucco!

(I did have a wall blog for about a month, though, it didn’t really work out. It was on one of the stalls of a Target restroom. I got tired of reading comments like "Susan is a bitch" and "Adam + Stephanie Forever".)

But with this here, I had to first make the "Signed, Prudy" image. Let's not even get started with how long that took me. I had to learn what a gradient was, and that alone was half an hour. Don't ask me to explain it to you. Then somehow I figured out how to upload it, but I didn't like the template, whatever that is. So then I changed the template, but then the "Signed, Prudy" went away.

Anyway, three hours later here I am actually writing a post! This is how dedicated I am to you, my friend. Even when I'm exhausted from all this hard work, I am still here to entertain everyone with my genius wit and almost equal incompetence.

I suppose a good introduction to my life must start with the namesake of this "blog", my middle name. My name is Nasrin Aboulhosn, a very Arabic name. My family is from Lebanon, which I will probably mention more than once so pay attention. Anyway, the correct way to pronounce my name is Niss-reen A-bull-hiss-in, if you roll the R and say an "h" sound that doesn't exist in the English language.

Rewind many years before I was born, although I'm sure this will be hard to do because the universe didn't exist. My mother was young and single and was living in Hampton, Virginia near her sister. My aunt knew a kind older woman named Mrs. Morrison who opened her home to my mother and let her stay. Mrs. Prudence Morrison.

My mother and Prudence fell madly in love, but the 70s were a time of great conservative blowback in Hampton, Virginia, and they just couldn't be together. Even after my mother married my father, she just couldn't keep Prudence out of her heart. When I was born in Belem, Brazil (a story I'll have to tell later), and the nurse said, "She's beautiful and will for sure grow to be a gorgeous and sexy woman. What will you name her?" My mother thought of her wild days in the South and said, "Niss-reen Prudy A-bull-hiss-in".

Well, I'm not quite sure that's what actually happened, seeing as how I wasn't alive. But anything before I was born doesn't really matter, so this story will have to do!

It doesn't make sense that my middle name is Prudy, I know. It is not Arabic, it is not Lebanese, it is not pretty, it was never a trendy name, and it does not alliterate with either Nasrin or Aboulhosn. It's not even a full name! It’s a nickname of a name that I never wanted.

No offense intended if your name is Prudy, Prudence, Prudent, or if you are a prude. But if your name is Prudy, Prudence, or Prudent, surely you agree with me. And if you are a prude, please exit.

Nasrin Prudy Aboulhosn. A !-?-! sandwich.

Much like the days that make up my life and which now you will get to be a part of. I am sure you are at the edge of your seat with excitement and anticipation.

I have to go now, because I promised myself I would never do five hours of anything unless it involved men, food, or spending money. And this is the opposite of all those things. Except spending money, because I’m not making money at all. So this is the opposite of men, food, and takes a neutral stance regarding spending money.

Signed,
Prudy