Long ago, in the days of Xanga (that’s pre-Myspace and Blogger), I started writing with far more passion than skill. Since then, I’ve up-skilled my life. I’ve gained a BA in English from the University of London, mastery of spellcheck, and over 10 years of experience being a cog in the machine of several large organizations in the US and Australia. I also audit Coursera and EdX courses all the time so you know I know some stuff.
In my free time, I read leisurely and liberally, write bravely and abstractly, and strive to prove that I’m superior in all ways to my Labrador and therefore more deserving of human love and adoration.
I enjoy conjuring ideas for exciting, new e-commerce businesses and then slowly bludgeoning them to oblivion through unforgiving pro/con lists.
I’ll continue to chip away at the next mediocre American novel for the rest of my life or, if my fortune teller is correct (and I pay her to be), 132 more years. Anonymous bloggers who definitely aren’t related to me are already raving about its inevitable, posthumous success.
I’ll continue trying to make money by using my words until one of you decides to be my benefactor, at which point I’ll commit to developing an unhealthy addiction to an as yet undecided vice. I’m willing to let said benefactor have a say in said vice if s/he chooses. That’s what mother calls incentive.
I’m shockingly young for someone still asking questions about proper use of hashtags. In real life, I feel out of place when surrounded by hipsters, millennials (even though I am one), and pretty much anyone that isn’t a plebeian of homosapian proportions.
In fake life, I’m comfortable with everyone because I’m liberal (American-style, not Australian-style) and as open as my spirit animal, the icebox, would lead you to believe.
My name is M.C. Lael and this is my icebox.