I have good news and bad news. I decided to throw some of these here ramblings toward some fun websites and parenting pages. I got an email back asking me to submit a release saying this one site can share my blog posts. Well, that’s neat! Basically they looked through my blog (which has like 10 posts), subscribed to it, and if they choose to share anything I have written or will write, they will already have a bio and release from me “on file”. Ok, why not? So I just need a “bio”. There were several tips in the email and examples of a few bios.
I started typing…
“Jessie Hoag is a mother of three…”
I paused. I had a brief existential crisis about the fact that this is all I could come up with. My entire identity is now wrapped up in the fact that I’m a mother?
“Jessie Hoag is having an identity crisis…”
That’s not working.
“Jessie Hoag is a writer and a mother of three…”
Ok, back up. I can’t really call myself a writer just because I like to write, can I? I’ve had a lot of jobs, but this isn’t really a resume or it would look like this:
“Jessie Hoag’s first job was a waitress. After working briefly at a bank, in the library at college #1, in the English department at college #2, at a daycare center, and at an accounting firm, she got her license to sell insurance. Meanwhile, she had built up a photography business and was building custom furniture with her husband while raising three babies. She opened her own furniture store, remodeled two homes, and is now working at a lumber yard. In all her free time, she remains caffeinated and writes.”
Well when you say it like that… I sound like I’ve never had my shit together. Like, I’ve never had my shit even close to together. “Nevertheless, she persisted.”
“Jessie Hoag is freaking the fuck out over having to label and simplify herself into a few lines that will make you want to visit her blog to read more of her writing…”
Ok, let’s go back to the mother of three thing and try to extrapolate a little.
“Jessie Hoag is a WebMD-diagnosing, anxiety-ridden, hypochondriac mother of three clinging to her sense of humor like a life preserver. Join her at the chicken bacon ranch and watch as the beautifully horrific shitshow unravels…”
Ok, I don’t need rescued. I’ve got this shit. Let’s start at the beginning.
“Jessie Hoag was born poor white trash…”
Wait, that’s a song, not 100% true, and I’m limited to 100 characters so I can’t start at the beginning. Sidebar: 100 characters is also the number of personalities I have.
“Jessie Hoag is a working mother of three who is fucking exhausted. Here, have some words.”
This is hard. Maybe I should try to act more… cheerful. Maybe I should try to act less like… me?
“Jessie Hoag definitely has her shit together and did not freak the fuck out at all while writing her bio for a website that probably won’t even publish her.”
There, I fixed it. Now, what are our thoughts on having Snapchat puppy dog ears in my “professional” headshot? Nailed it.