THE INTERNET NEVER LIES. CHAPTER ONE Avery 2.0 Blog Don t make me punch you.

Transcription

1 THE

2 THE INTERNET NEVER LIES CHAPTER ONE Avery 2.0 Blog Don t make me punch you. I m turning 40 tomorrow. And don t tell me that 40 is the new 20 because if you do I m going to reach out from whatever device you re reading my blog on, tear your beating heart from your chest, and pummel you unconscious with it. Hmmm. I just re-read that. Okay. I might be having a bit of difficulty coming to grips with this milestone. (Which sounds quite close to millstone, don t you think? Which, I suppose, is what another entire decade vanishing in the dust feels like around your neck. And on your slightly sagging ass.) Don t get me wrong things are looking up. I wrote my first book, Venetia the Erotic Journey of a Size-16 Goddess, and Rosebud Publishing, in Toronto, signed me to a contract! They focus-grouped the concept of a plus-sized sex symbol and it tested off the charts among women, ages Ladies apparently don t want to choose between decadent food and decadent sex. (Did they really need a focus group to figure that out?) Ryan and I ve been married almost a year. It s been absolute freaking bliss. Well, if you don t count all the discussions we ve had about exactly who was supposed to pick up the groceries, do the laundry, or pay the utility bills. I ll be the first to admit: our system of chore allocation needs some refinement. Which means I want him to do most of it but haven t figured out how to swing that. Yet. Like when the wet clothes sat in the washing machine for two days. I insisted that our shared Google calendar schedule had clearly indicated it was his responsibility to remove the clothes. That I d only been tapped to put the dirty clothing in question into the washing machine, not take the clean clothes out of it. Of course, he d had none of that, and correctly surmised that I d edited the calendar to back up my story. (Which was a real stroke of

3 luck for him to even have figured out. Except for the fact his work is published on a website, Ryan is the least tech savvy person I know. He writes his story notes in shorthand. Seriously. He d be at home in Jurassic Park.) (Note to Self: Go get the groceries when done posting this blog. Mustn t serve cereal for dinner. Again.) I know now that the Internet isn t always right. However, it is loads of times (and many of those times include providing such vital information as how to pole dance for your husband after you ve left the laundry in the washing machine and it s become a touch moldy). Despite our little disagreements, we re madly in love and ready for the next step. We want a baby! And I m staring at 40 in the mirror. Don t tell me that I still have lots of time. I can t hear you over the damn ticking of my biological clock. We ve done it six ways to Sunday (and every other day of the week) for the past eight months and still nothing. Not that sex itself isn t reason enough to try. However, the bedroom can become the bored room when its siren call is the alarm on your cell phone s ovulation app. By the way, do you know if there s a special position that makes it easier to get pregnant? I don t want to take fertility drugs. I hear that involves needles. Not a big fan. Maybe I could look it up on HowTo.com. Before you even begin to think of lecturing me I know I have a problem. My name is Avery Fowler and I m addicted to Internet help sites. Well, one specifically. But it would be different this time. It wouldn t be like before, when my life advisor at HowTo.com the smart, saucy and virtual Clementine ended up being a shockingly real, twenty-seven-year old man in England with bad skin, somewhat of a drinking problem, and a massive crush on me. And who could blame him? (Ryan: if you re reading this blog, DO NOT post a comment!!) I m sure the nice people at HowTo.com would assign me to someone else if I asked. Anyhow, this pregnancy thing or lack of it is a big deal. I could use some objective advice about what to expect. And, it s so nice to have all the wisdom of the World Wide

4 Web at my beck and call and fingertips on my cell phone when I really, absolutely have to know something. Except for that one little problem with Clem, I ve learned so much from the Internet! For example, whom did that charming girl in The Mummy movie marry? (James Bond, apparently). Who invented Jello? (However, you don t really want to know what s actually in the stuff. Trust me on this.) What are the symptoms of Dengue fever? (Hey I did NOT overreact! I felt warm and a mosquito had bitten me the week before.) Ryan my serious journalist of a husband has found my infatuation with praying at the shrine of the Internet silly. He believes in libraries. Books. Serious investigations. I believe (despite what I tell him) that having my own personal web advisor, on-call 24/7, for the low price of fourteen dollars and ninety-five cents a month is still a pretty sweet deal. Sure, Howto.com may have led me down a few wrong roads in the past. Yes, it did advise me not to tell Ryan I was in love with him. And, strongly suggested I should break up with him when I thought he chose his job over me. But those were just misunderstandings between HowTo.com and I. I do shoulder some of the blame. Like most relationships, it wasn t all bad. We did have some good times together. It was always there for me ready with its handy-dandy advice almost at the speed of light (depending upon my Internet provider s mood that day.) Would it be that bad if I just asked it a teeny, tiny question, once in a while? The Internet wouldn t lie to me (again). Would it? Til next week. Avery Will Avery find out that forty really is the new twenty? Or pull a muscle at her gentle yoga class? Will an erotica novel about a size-sixteen sex goddess sell millions?

5 Will Avery ever remember to turn on the dryer? Click here to purchase THE INTERNET NEVER LIES and find out!