My family has called me Shirley for a long time. It’s an “Airplane” reference, and I have borne it proudly. (Slightly off topic: Is there another comedy that is quoted as often?) At some point, I gained the last name of McShmoot. Its origin is complex, and I probably won’t get this right, but I remember it as some mash-up of Bartles and James and Dervish and Banges, that came out as Bootles-and-Shmoot during what you can see was a weird conversation, apparently about wine coolers and magic wands; combined with my brother’s name for the sweatpant-ugg slipper-wearing Marblehead teenage girls (McSullivans).
The name stuck, and almost a year ago I set up a blog called Shirley McShmoot. I started writing about my life (the thrills! the chills!) using pseudonyms for my family–Girly McShmoot (teenage daughter), Surly McShmoot (teenage son) and Burly McShmoot (tall, handsome husband). But the contrivance was too limiting; it was a burden; and it was, um, contrived. In short, it wasn’t easy being Shirley McShmoot.
At around the same time two things happened. I won a WikiRandom challenge. And my website became corrupted. I could not recover anything, and was advised by my hosting service to start over. When I did, I made the decision to incorporate a blog there, not as a separate entity. So I ditched the McShmoots and hatched a plan to write about public relations, and professional development, and social media. But I cannot compartmentalize very well; my personal and professional lives, I think like most of us, are too intertwined. And because I have strong opinions on so many subjects ranging from the Red Sox, to politics, to cooking, this has become the perfect venue. Talk about lemonade!
My horoscope today suggested I take time to write in a journal–and then do it on a regular basis. “You may be happily surprised by where this cathartic process leads you.” I cannot wait to see where I’m going!