Thursday, September 27, 2012

Flashback August 28, 2011: What I Have Been Doing Instead of Blogging

Photo Credit: Morguefile by cohdra

I am sorry I haven't written. I have been spending all my spare time working out soccer carpools on Excel spreadsheets and composing emails to committees of helicopter parents and haven't had time to do things like write or talk to my friends. Also I threw up in the middle of the night Wednesday. I think I have evening sickness. Which is what you get when your teenager is being born from his slimy, decaying chrysalis shell. Come over and we'll have coffee and talk about it.

My oldest son is fourteen today, which is surprising because I'm only twenty-four. At least, I was when I last remembered. He spent the weekend at a Coming of Age retreat, which is a Unitarian thing. We do that instead of a bar mitzvah. The food is not as good, but they got to do a ropes course.

I started a new position at work. I am the reading coach. So I have been testing first graders to see if they can read. They can't. Later I am going to test my dog on his algebra.

Anyway, I miss blogging. I should do that instead of post stuff to Facebook, which no one cares about anyway. Or I should grow up and stop trying to express every thought that crosses my mind in public.

Not likely.



  1. My font is fucked up. Will someone please fix that?

  2. Hey Hon, I really like your font...think it is totally you and hot too!

  3. My son says indignantly the food was better than at a bar mitzvah. It's sad when you have to comment on your own blog posts? It's like sending yourself roses for Valentine's Day. Not that I would ever do that. I totally went without roses.

  4. I didn't want that question mark! So now I have to post again to apologize for my typo because I'm just that insecure. Damn this vicious cycle of errors and comments!! It's like having your livers picked out every day by vultures. Except, now I'm not sure it's vultures in the myth of Prometheus, so I had to ask my son Rowan, who reads a lot of Greek myths. And he says "It's always vultures". ??? So every fucking time something picks out my liver it's a fucking vulture??? DAMMIT. I hate vultures.

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  6. Concerning the font, I see that this post came in tagged as an h6, which is different from the others, which are not tagged as any kind of head.

    Actually though, I find it more easily readable against the background, although the downside is that since it's already bold, you couldn't just bold (embolden?) a single word or phrase. You'd have to set up the style sheet to have bold or strong tags do something different.

    (All this will probably make more sense to Mike.)

  7. Your blog is awesome. The font is only mildly annoying. You cool mom post is the best I've ever read, and now I need to write one.

    Thank you for testing my own daughter, and I'm glad I'm out of the quagmire. Good luck with the first graders, though.

    Hopefully I'll see you and your manly clan at the TKD shin dig.

    Kristi B

  8. Whoops, shoulda edited that. I meant "Your" cool mom post, not you cool mom, although obviously you are one based on the cool mom post.


  9. Your description of a teenage birth is spot on. And, I think a ropes course is the perfect thing for a fourteen year-old. I should have one in my back yard!

    1. The ropes course was a really neat experience. We should ALL have one in our back yard, Jewels. It would just handle everything.

  10. Listen, I hear that growing up is totally overrrated (not that I plan on trying it to find out). Here's hoping you keep expressing yourself all over the place. :)

    (In a partially unrelated note, I have a stock phrase at work that I use on guys who seem to have no filter: "Are you aware of the fact that you do not have to say out loud everything that pops into your head?" Many of them are really not. And it's scary inside their heads sometimes.)

    (Not that it's not scary inside ALL of our heads sometimes. Most times.)

    1. I've decided it's my superpower—this un-asked for over-sharing expression. Of course, I think less about boobs, beer and meat than most guys. If I was going to keep talking about that, I might reasonably be asked to shut up. :)


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