Oh, hi. My name’s Ambrosia. It isn’t really, but when I was eight years old my parents took me to Ponderosa and at the salad bar there was ambrosia “salad”, a vile concoction that only children and the elderly enjoy. I decided after having a spoonful that ambrosia was the best thing I’d ever eaten and the most awesome word I’d ever heard, and that when I was over 30, chronically depressed, and pathetically single, I’d use the name Ambrosia while blogging. Mostly true story.