Essay

Not My Last Supper

I have the luxury (or curse) of having ten plus years of stuff I’ve written on record, either in this blog or in thousands of pages of notes. We have a terrible habit these days of taking a tweet some guy wrote ten years ago and using it to sink their entire career. On occasion, I’m going to uses things I’ve written in the past to show you how absurd this practice is. I barely recognize things I wrote a year ago, much less ten. While I take responsibility for the things I wrote, because I did write them, I ask that you allow me the opportunity to change my mind. To admit I was wrong. Please let me learn from my mistakes, even if it takes years.

This is not easy for me to do but I think it is important. Something I wrote two years ago came up again and I feel the need to address it. “My Last Supper” is a small post, only 500 words, but it still lives with people I care about. And it’s ugly. And I’d like to correct the record. 

This old post is about how much trouble I used to have attending large gatherings like dinners. Instead of trying to figure out why and fix the issues in my life, I decided to blame the dinners themselves and my friends for even inviting me to them. I wanted you to know how much I hated the evenings and I wanted you to in turn quit having them or at least quit inviting me. The people that I’m speaking to in this post aren’t adversaries, they are people that I love. Why do I so crudely admonish them for inviting me to a party? I don’t know. I think I was looking for something or someone to blame for my unhappiness. Other than me of course. 

Honestly, I wanted to just delete the post because it is so hard for me to read and admit I even wrote. But because someone recently brought it up again, because they were planing a nice dinner and they were worried I would not agree to come, I feel the only way I can erase the damage the post has done is to address it verbatim. I so easily forget that the things I write and say matter. Even if it only matters to a few people.  

The words in bold are from the old post. They appear unchanged. I’ll also link the post here. Continue reading “Not My Last Supper”

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Writing

45,000 Words

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This is going to be a pat-me-on-the-back post because I accomplished a goal and I’d like to tell you about it. It’s going to be self-serving, but I hope you get something out of reading it. 

Over the past 30 days, I have read 5 books and written 45,000 words. I’m not necessarily proud of the number of words because it’s an arbitrary number; I’m proud of myself because I stuck to the same routine for 30 days. Some days my head would race with excuses. I was able to ignore them and accomplish this goal and I’m proud of that. I did the work.
Continue reading “45,000 Words”

Charleston, Humor

Beep

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Formerly a quiet field of grass

Beep, beep, beep. They are building a 300-unit apartment complex outside my apartment window. Every piece of heavy equipment must beep. In the 90’s, they only used to beep when they went backwards. But now, some of them beep when they go backwards and forwards, side to side. Continue reading “Beep”

Charleston, Humor, Travel

Come Sail Away

I’ve been listening to an incredible podcast produced by Dan Carlin called “Hardcore History,” where Dan (who doesn’t claim to be an historian, but otherwise an “admirer of hardcore-history-4-200x200history”) takes subjects and fleshes them out for hours. I’m currently listening to “Kings of Kings part 2” about a few of the leaders of the Persian Empire. He basically produces entire books on tape in each series, as they are 5-6 hours long. If you like history, definitely check this podcast out.

I bring this up because lately I’ve been ruminating about a subject that was mentioned on the podcast. Carlin was explaining how the ancients would use a navy to support anarmy moving along a coast by protecting supplies on ships and feeding the army when required. Now, I don’t know the nature of the ships, whether they were sailboats or rowboats, but in the interest of this blog post, let’s pretend they were sailboats. See, I’ve been fighting a war with sailboats in my head for a few months now. Sailboats were once essential to humanity but are now only enjoyed by a few nincompoops who don’t mind making us sit in traffic at the foot of a drawbridge while they “sail” under it. Continue reading “Come Sail Away”

Charleston, Humor, Travel

Droning On

 

When I was a kid, I loved anything that you could fly. I remember getting these planes made out of Styrofoam that were about five feet long and could fly when you threw them. On the package, there were pictures of people doing amazing tricks with these toys. Not appearing on the package was the fact that you threw them once, they flew beautifully and then crashed into the ground or a tree and the wing would break and that was it. I bet I owned ten of them and broke every one. Continue reading “Droning On”

DIY, Humor

Oops

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Yep, I did that. That’s the light. You know, THIS light. It didn’t fall or break on it’s own. It was working perfectly fine. But I lost my mind and now it’s broken. Continue reading “Oops”

Alcohol, Humor

Dry-clean This

hqdefault-2In preparation for one of the 40 weddings I am invited to this year (always the bridesmaid never the bride…er…right?) I entered a dry-cleaner with some garments I hoped still fit. They’ve been shrinking a lot of things, lately, even stuff I never brought in. I realized, as I handed over two shirts that apparently take five days to clean, that this place hasn’t changed in thirty years. Dry-cleaners evolve like granite. I have more computing power in my pocket than they have in their whole store and yet we still pay them $4 a shirt? For what? Continue reading “Dry-clean This”