If you're not familiar with me, then I already know what you're thinking: "What kind of name is PittGirl?!"

Well, I'll tell you. It's a dumb name. About three years ago, I read something completely outrageous about local politics in the newspaper and I was just… Grrr! I don't recall the story, but I distinctly remember thinking, "I've got something to say about this!"

I registered for a free blog account, and there was a little box asking me for my name. I didn't know what to type. Certainly not my real name. Because I had a job (and still have), a real-life job that would be at risk if I publicly said something negative about our elected officials or even about Ben Roethlisberger (or as I call him, The Duke of Fug and the Earl of Gross), I had to use an alias. I typed in the first thing that came to mind. I'm a girl from Pittsburgh – PittGirl it was!

Had I known at the time that I would eventually be read by 'Burghers (as I call us) far and wide, amassing 2 million hits, well, I'd have picked something a little less, shall we say, stupid. But the name stuck. I became PittGirl.

I finally had a home for my writing. I had my own place for my words, my thoughts and my rants. I had a place to spread my gospel – that pigeons are born in hell and deserve to die.

I took Lukey, that's the mayor, to task and not delicately. My snark gun had no silencer, and I aimed it at people that I sometimes deal with through my job. Smart? Nope. Fun? Oh, heck, yes.
I took Joseph-Beth Booksellers' side when poet Jan Beatty accused them of censorship. I cursed my way through every losing season of the Pirates.

If you never read me though, you must understand that there was positive in there with the negative. Sure, I branded some people with the title of "Annoying 'Burgher," but I also branded others with "Awesome 'Burgher" status. I gushed over Pittsburgh and everything that makes it wonderful. I took a gut punch each time I wrote about sick kids and did my best to raise funds for them. I celebrated the good and mourned the sad all the while wagging a snarky finger at the bad.

Then one day last November, I received an e-mail from a local news anchor informing me that another anchor had learned my identity and bits of information were leaking. I read the e-mail eight times, and then my head exploded.

That evening I wrote a goodbye post and, you know, I cried. It was so stupid, but it was as if my home had burned down. I didn't have a place to write anymore, and I didn't foresee the Red Cross coming by to wrap a blanket around my shoulders and hand me a cup of coffee and a new home.

"PittGirl quits!" shouted the front page of the Post-Gazette. How crazy is that? They obituaried me on A-1! I didn't die, though. I hid in my cave, and I Twittered. I took to Facebook to rant, and I guest-blogged on others' sites. I was desperate for a place to pour out the words that were stuck fighting in my head. The OMGs tussling with the LOLs can get pretty painful – mostly because the OMGs fight dirty.

I have a new home now at Pittsburgh magazine, and it feels perfect. It's comfortable, and most important, I haven't seen a single pigeon yet.

I should go away, but I've learned something since November. I want to write. It's so simple. I'm taking a risk that my identity will be revealed, and I've prepared myself for that day my mask is ripped away. I have the unemployment papers filled out and everything.
Do you suppose there's a job called "Ruthless Pigeon Killer" anywhere in the world? OMG. I hope they give me a badge. LOL.

PittGirl Rants/Raves

Rant:
Dear smokers who throw their cigarette butts onto the sidewalks of downtown: Would you have a problem if I rolled up my Target receipts, burned them down a bit and then flung them at your feet? Don't worry. I'll smush them really well with my shoes once they hit the ground. What do you mean that's littering?

Rave:
I recently made my first-ever Apple purchase – a 16gb iPod Touch. Readers of my former blog know that I name all of my doohickeys, and this doohickey is Omaro Cazares Amaya. He is exactly as awesome as he sounds. Something else that is awesome when you have a Touch: Pittsburgh's free Wi-Fi. I love my city.

Rant:
Nothing makes me want to walk up to total strangers and shake my finger in their face while huffing out some words laced with righteous indignation like when I see them throw cigarette butts on downtown's sidewalks. Use the trashcans. They're easy to find; they cost $1,000 and they have Mayor Lukey's name on them.

Rave:
It's not the hip thing to do in light of sixty bajillion years of losing (I'm estimating), but this year I'm cheering for the Pirates (or as I call them The Buccos of Suckitude) with what can only be described as ridiculously annoying optimism. This is the year. The losing ends. The ship stops sinking. Please?