Skip to main content

Bloggy Blog #91

  Hello, you may remember me from posts about my hockey journey, the Quad City DJ's, and tweets that received the fewest interactions ever. I'm here to let you know that after my very long and probably necessary hiatus here, that I am back! I am back because a lot of things have happened. Namely, people in my life passed, and other social media I've been using have gone to shit. And so, here we are. Let's compile a rundown of events lately, shall we?

THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED: Well, plenty! The last Bloggy Blog appears to be August 2021. Certainly feels like a long time ago. Perhaps in that time you got married, had a child, or won the lottery. Who knows! I certainly didn't do any of those things. Winning the lottery sure would have been nice, though. 

I had to relocate for a little while. Maybe permanently? Who the hell knows anymore. I'm fresh out of ideas and patience with my life anymore. 

I finally paid for professionals to cut my hair (see Bloggy Blog 90). Twice now, and maybe a third time soon. 

Fuck my parent's cars forever. 


THINGS THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN: I didn't need to evacuate twice for hurricanes. 

 I didn't win the lottery. 

I didn't eat any ice cream at all this summer*


SOMETHING UNUSUAL YOU'RE DOING NOW THAT PERHAPS YOU WEREN'T DOING MUCH BEFORE: I've been to cemeteries more often than usual. 

I've been buying my father pizza. 

Putting quarters into a laundry machine.


SOMETHING NOT UNUSUAL YOU ARE STILL DOING: Bottling up things!

Mildly using vodka as a coping mechanism!

Writing?**


CAN WE HAVE A SILLY OLD PIC OF YOU SINCE WE LONG FORGOT ABOUT YOU: Sure. 



WHAT'S GOING ON THERE? It is 30 degrees with a light snow. I am wearing shorts. Tomorrow I will have a Muscle Milk for breakfast then call some places.


Anyway, here we are again. Welcome. I'll post more, honest. Good, wholesome content***


*this is very very false

**eh, sure?

***if you're nice



Popular posts from this blog

Bloggy Blog #84

The first time I visited, I had to park across the street in the lot of an abandoned gas station. The lot itself went up a slight hill, and the station's sign would occasionally spin some slow turns whenever the town spirits wanted to have some fun.  She lived in a questionably constructed building on the second floor of this sleepy Revolutionary War town, adjacent to a craft store that was hardly ever open. In the basement sat a four-lane bowling alley and a small bar. It was by appointment only, which really meant the building's landlord had to be there to serve drinks and keep an eye on the action. I didn't get a chance to bowl down there, but seeing the construction of the building, this was probably a good thing. When she moved out of her place, part of the process involved placing a three-foot wide plank over the bowling alley basement stairs, in order to move big furniture out. Needless to say she left the heavy lifting to the moving experts.  The new plac...

Bloggy Blog #97

   A few weeks ago, the last of my father's counter top appliances went kaput. It was an unnecessarily large microwave. I used it from time to time to heat up frozen dinners for him, or to reheat my own leftovers. He used it a whole lot more than I ever did, specifically to reheat coffee. He'll brew his little hotel-sized pot of coffee every morning around six-thirty, pour it into a cup, place a lid on it, then let it sit on the kitchen table. About two hours later I'm up and moving around, and that cup is still on the table. He'll reheat it before 9:30, then leave it covered on the table. Sometimes he will reheat it two or three times, thirty seconds to a minute each, in the span of an hour. I don't know what the proper temperature he desires for his coffee, but most of the time, whatever it is, is not it. So he puts a lid on it and just...walks away.  My parents moved into this apartment fifteen years ago. I was living three time zones away at the time, unable to ...

Bloggy Blog #92

 In the February tundra that is upstate New York, in a hospital room some eleven-hundred plus miles away from me, a doctor named Oleg signed off on my mother’s death certificate. She had been in and out of the hospital for a couple months, after falling repeatedly at the apartment. My father had to call 911 a few times to help get her to the emergency room, and after the third or fourth time falling they just kept her there. At some point, she broke her hip. Then she may (or may not have?) caught COVID in the hospital. She wasn’t vaccinated. There was talk of sending her back home (potentially with COVID) which sounded rather suspect coming from medical professionals. Things at home seemed rather unclear about hospice care, so sending her back with a serious pandemic diagnosis didn’t seem like a great idea. My father is vaccinated, but would still have needed to come into close contact with her constantly if she went home. That didn’t end up needing to happen.  I flew to Alban...