When the new year started, I thought about blogging every day this year. I started off good—as good as one can be if you don’t take it into account that the entry I published on the first was supposed to be published on the 31st—and then the second rolled around and nothing. So much for that, right? We all know that I don’t follow through with commitments anyway, it’s a miracle even that I’m still married—that statement is only partially true, if only you knew the details. (Joking aside, I love my husband and have no desire to not follow through with that commitment. I had to clarify that statement because when he reads this he will be all “WTF?!!!?” and start worrying if I don’t. Some people don’t get sarcasm.)
I started off the new year by being drunk, over spending, waking up in a strange woman’s bed—not a typo—and then forgetting my cell phone charger in said woman’s house. Though I did see the Space Needle blow up from Greenwood, that was kind of shitty. I have photos of that. It would turn out that the firework display from Greenwood is uneventful, and tiny. I also met up with an old friend from college who I haven’t seen in a long time. And bought an ugly chair. (It’s a good thing this is a blog and not a novel, right? This paragraph is a mess.) Despite how I describe my new year, it really was awesome. My goal was not a lot of people, and indoors, which I achieved.
I am sick, you see, and have been for two weeks.
The photos! On with them!This post has been submitted to Dude Write, a weekly competition between man bloggers.