The Donovan Diaries

My name is Miranda Donovan. I'm twenty four years old, most certainly not a virgin, and most certainly not anywhere near marriage. My life consists of only a few very lame, very boring things. These very lame, very boring things include being a wine connoisseur--or perhaps borderline wine-o, my incredibly lame sex life, my boyfriend of three and a half years, studying journalism, eating an incredible amount of unhealthy frozen foods, and scrubbing the spot on my floor that everyone keeps telling me is permanently stained, convinced that I WILL prove them wrong.
You see, I live alone. Well, kind of alone. I own a four bedroom house with three empty bedrooms with my half-dead goldfish Josh. I like him, he doesn't really talk back. But he's a damn good listener.
That's how incredibly lame my life usually is.
So why the hell should I start a blog?
Because when my life's not being incredibly lame and I'm not just making myself scrambled eggs or frozen deep fried mushrooms while bitching to Josh, it's pretty damn exciting.
To say the least.
The Donovan Diaries sounds racy. Sounds slutty and whorish and everything that my Grandmother trained me not to be.
Because I, ladies and gentlemen, am a closet slut.
Yes, that's right. A closet slut. You see, I don't really sleep around at all. But I'm pretty flirty and kind of kinky. With shots of gin and a swig of Grey Goose straight from the bottle, I bubble like champagne on December thirty first.
From parties to broken hinges on doors, my life goes from crazy to mellow in a night. But it's a Saturday night of drinking myself single that fuels this crazy, fucked up life. So sit back, folks... because stupid is as stupid does, and I'm about to tell you more stupid than you have ever imagined can be done.