In order to stall even further on looking for a new job, I'm now contributing at another blog, run by some old college friends. It's much prettier than this one, because I am not "technically advanced". (In fact, I have another new blog I'm doing for a forum I belong to, and I can barely get THAT one to work at all.) We haven't discussed my salary yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm rich now.
Well, I've actually been blogging and blogging, but to no avail. None of my posts are gelling, somehow. Which is worst, no post or a crappy post? It's a question for the ages.
However, in the near future you will hopefully hear about:
--my newfound obsession with online Scrabble (I suck; email me or commentif you want to play sometime)
--the fabulous weekend I just had, where I made the shocking discovery that all of my friends are about to turn 30. How on earth did this happen?
--a report on my local ANC meeting, which will hopefully be much funnier than it sounds
--something about me hating George Bush (y'all knew that, right?
Also, if any of you are in DC and want to join my book club, let me know and I'll hook you up with details.
I really want to write a blog entry, but my brain is a giant void. I can't think of a damn thing to write about except how excited I am to go see Fahrenheit 9/11, and --please. Is there a more played-out topic at the moment?
Pithy childhood anecdotes? None that seem particularly relevant.
Neighborhood drama? Yeah, but it's boring; we saw some kids get arrested for stealing a car and crashing it into someone's yard last night. It was actually a bit sad, because the cops were right up in one kid's face, screaming at him. On the one hand, the officer had a point: someone was killed in the District by a kid driving a stolen car last week. On the other hand, that poor kid's future likely just took a sharp turn in the wrong direction. He won't make a lot of nice new friends in the juvenile detention center.
Family scoop? Eh, I'm over them. I'm spending almost a week back in the homeland soon, and I'm just dreading it. For a long time, I felt at least a little homesick all the time, but that has changed in the last year. I still miss my family, but I prefer to see them elsewhere than my hometown. Being there just depresses me. I hope this is a passing phase. I was going to write a funny blog entry about escaping the midwest, but it was making me really bitter and I had to stop. Maybe later.
Ohio? I've been thinking a lot about how Michael Moore can't seem to avoid mentioning Flint, MI every. single. time he speaks in public. Yet I doubt that he would live there again; I'm sure he feels relieved every time his West Village neighborhood comes back into view after a trip to the heartland. I know the feeling, as I used to get misty-eyed every time I came across the Memorial Bridge from National Airport. And yet, reading back through this blog, I noticed that I mention Ohio constantly. I'm considering the reason why "home" has such a strong hold on some people, like me and Mike. Stay tuned for my torturous musings on this topic.
Smoking? Yes, it's time once again for the yearly torture ritual I like to call "No this time I swear to fucking God I am really going to quit". This time, the presure will be intense: I'll be thirty in less than a year, four of my relatives have died of smoking-related diseases in the last twelve months, and the social tide is against me. Plus, my parents all need to quit smoking as soon as possible and it's really hard to nag them about it effectively when I keep having to interrupt myself to borrow a lighter.
The last time I tried to quit, I became the kind of person who burst into tears at every provocation. And I don't just mean that I became weepy, I would actually erupt in tears at least once a day. My sister asking me to turn off the kitchen light on my way to bed once engendered a storm of weeping that lasted for two hours. This time, I'm planning to use the patch, so we'll see if that makes a difference. Quit smoking start date: July 12.
Blogging? Why, thank you so much for asking. Since you did, I'll admit that it's much harder to come up with blog entries when no one comments or emails me for a few days. And as you can see, the humor level goes down appreciably when I think no one is paying attention. You guys better be a lot more supportive when I quit smoking, or I will fill this blog with reprints of poetry I wrote when I was thirteen (sample line: I love you, I hate you/ I listen, I ignore/I scream at you to stop/Why won't you talk to me more?). Don't think I won't do it.
It's been a good week for me and my little blog. In a way, it's filled my heart with gratitude, and in another way, it's made me ruefully aware of how closely my feelings of self-worth are tied to this little piece of the Internet that I call home.
My little rant detailing my immense sadness over the death of Ronald Reagan, statesman, actor, armer of corrupt regimes the world over, enabler of the AIDS epidemic and lover of Nancy "Just Say No (Unless It's To Ronnie!") Reagan, garnered me a nice link at Cabbages and Kings and some high compliments on Dispatches From The Culture Wars, as well as a nice email from my friend at The Dust Congress.
My sadness over Ronnie's demise will be compounded tonight, as I sit in helplessly snarled traffic for hours and hours while his coffin, accompanied by a riderless horse symbolizing the deficit under his stewardship, rides willy-nilly hither and yon all over the city. I may even shed a tear.