hello my name is...

I always hated the first day of camp. Motion sickness from a turbulent bus ride, shlepping my overstuffed duffel bag up "the hill" (standard in the sleep-away world), deliberating over who gets top bunk privilege. But the worst part of that long day was the dreaded mixer. Always some lame-o game involving the last name of my first grade teacher, a roll of toilet paper or my favorite ice cream flavor. Snore. I didn't need to meet any more kids. I could've told you who my friends were going to be for the remainder of that summer by the brand of jean shorts they were wearing. Trust me, it wasn't the cool ones.

I got flashbacks of those sticky June days two years ago when I was asked to come up with an icebreaker for my fifth grade hebrew school class at the beginning of the year. I realized how corny my own summer counselors must have felt when they were forced to seperate my bunkmates and me into groups according to our astrological sign, where we would then disclose the third letter of our first pet's name.

So, here I am again, being faced with the challenge of an introducing myself to a (virtual) room full of strangers. I could toss you a bean bag and ask you to tell me how many sisters you have. We could play Mad Libs and have a tension easing laugh together. I could ask you to write a letter detailing what you are hoping to get out of this blog.

Or, I guess I could just take a deep breath, stand up straight (like you'd know the difference), and tell you a little bit about my online (and offline) self.

Phew. Okay, here goes.

My darling husband and I live with our two darling children, ages 3 months (our little boy) and almost 3 years (our big girl), respectively, in our darling (read: 825 square feet - ouch, its tight!) 2 bedroom apt. BG attends nursery school, while I stay home to take care of LB during the day. I have one older brother, but I always secretly wanted a sister too. Interests? Hmmm...that's a tough one. I love to cook (kosher, gluten-free cuisine), and much to our bank account's dismay, shop. Target is a girl's worst enemy. But I digress.

And now, my friend, I pass the bean bag along to you. Participation is optional, but encouraged. Besides, maybe this time you'll befriend one of the cool kids (who am I kidding).

Oh, and by the way, the third letter of my first pet's name was R. Just in case you were wondering.