As Promised

Hey, Guys.

I know I've completely fallen off the face of the planet, and I'm sorry about that. I need to stop starting entries with a variation on that sentence. I need to stop apologizing and then apologizing for apologizing. I can imagine this is getting fucking old. I mean, all one of you that still reads this thing (hi, Lauren!). God, I'm pissing myself off so I'm just going to move on to the entry.

Kyle and I are still in the process of organizing our new life in the apartment; one of the things that still needs addressing is the fact that I can't steal a wireless internet signal from any of our neighbors (and believe me, we've tried. One of the hazards of living in a building with other at-least-semi-educated smarties is that everyone knows about restricted access wireless signals). We're trying to decide whether we'd prefer internet access or safe parking for our car (they cost about the same), and it looks so far like safe parking is going to win out. So I guess I'll be coming to Whole Foods and getting on the internet here for a while. Until one of us wins the Free Internet Lottery. *sigh*

God, so much has happened, I'm stuck staring at this screen and am unable to filter out what you really need/want to know from just...everything. Ah, where to begin? Sometimes when I'm overwhelmed with content, I surf around on the internet and try to comment on stuff I find there. This is being made SO DIFFICULT though - Whole Foods Market seems to have banned fotki, most of the blogs I read, and facebook. What the fuck?

Also (side note), I see that the pictures of my apartment still aren't working. I apologize. I don't know what's wrong with them, hopefully I'll figure it out soon.

So since I've been online for a good hour now and am still struggling to come up with a topic (five paragraphs into the entry), I am going to resort to using someone else's prompts. Enter Maggie Mason, author of Nobody Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog.

Today's topic can be found on Page 49 of that book. The prompt is called My First Decade.

Age 1: My dad entertains me with a puppet that looks like a yellow duck's head that has been hollowed out. I have a couple memories of this puppet and in both instances I cannot get over how fucking hilarious it is.

Age 2: My brother is born. Shortly after his return from the hospital, my mom takes a bathroom break and leaves him swaddled on the couch. When she returns, I am sitting innocently on the spot where he used to be. When she moves me, she finds that I have been sitting on my brother because I am jealous.

Age 3: I look deep into my own eyes in a mirror and conclude that they are black. My parents are so poor that my bedroom is actually a closet.

Age 4: My family moves to another apartment in Chicago. My mom and I read 60 books from the library a week.

Age 5: We move to St. Louis. I somehow obtain a Magic 8 Ball and am enchanted more by the blue liquid inside than the answers.

Age 6: I still have my address and phone number from this year memorized. 10320 Bilston Ct, Apt. 2, 567-5389.

Age 7: I befriend an evangelical Christian that lives in my building. Her older brother babysits my brother and I - one night I wake up and he is looking down the back of my pajama pants, at what his mother calls my "fanny". It bothers me, but I'm not sure why.

Age 8: My parents do some tests on me and find that I read at a Grade 12 level. I am ostracized by my classmates. That same year I suffer my first and only bee-sting, from which I still haven't recovered.

Age 9: My friend Mary has four dogs, one of which is named Oliver. Mary's dad promises to give me one of Oliver's puppies, to which I reply, "Oliver is a boy." Everyone in the room laughs; I don't get it.

Age 10: I have a PE teacher whose gender is a mystery; we call her Roberts (without a Mr. or Ms.).