Lucky Hooker

That's what I really want to name my blog. In fact, that's what I really wanted to use as my internet name. I was exhausted when I chose to leap from a now-defunct writing community to my own place in the bloggy world and all the names I liked were already in use. Except "Lucky Hooker".

But I chickened out.

I was already feeling brave enough by NOT including "mommy" in my title. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I originally started writing on the internets before I had kids. Too bad I wasn't knowledgeable enough to start my own blog back then. Instead I wrote for the defunct writing community and before that, Blogit. Anyway, I guess I saw blogging as MY thing, my "me" time and I wanted a name that described me.

But I wasn't quite brave enough to choose "Lucky Hooker", possibly because a lot of the first mommy blogs I read were of the "my kids are so adorable and my husband's perfect and I love scrubbing the floor with this homemade organic soap I made" variety. Since I already knew my blog was going to be different, I was too afraid to just brand myself that way.

Not that I really knew about branding.

Anyway, you may be wondering why I even considered calling myself "Lucky Hooker" at all. Generally, hooker's not exactly a compliment. And if you'd ever met me - even when I was skinny and going clubbing - you would know that I could never be mistaken for any kind of actual hooker. Too unpolished to be high class, too conservative to be of the street variety. But back when I was a single teacher, I had these friends. Well, I mean, most of them are still my friends but we no longer work together and very rarely get drunk together anymore. Anyway, we called each other "hooker" all the time.

I don't know why. Maybe we were subversively reclaiming the word for feminism. Probably we just thought it was funny. The "lucky" bit came later, when one of us saw a t-shirt with the words "lucky hooker" on a fishing show. We made our own shirts soon after.

To be a lucky hooker, you had to have a big sense of humor and a small sense of propriety. You had to be able to do a shot and dance on a table. You had to be able to laugh at yourself. You had to like sex and like talking about it almost as much. Oh, and while you could look fabulous, you never quite managed to look perfect.

I am still a lucky hooker at heart. Okay, I'm in no shape to dance on a table, but I danced on enough of them at the time to earn me lifetime status anyway. I miss my lucky hookers every day, even though there are definitely some in the blog world.

Aren't there?