My Triumphant Return To The Blogosphere! (Or: Remember When I Did This Once?)

Three years is a pretty long time to abandon a blog that was super half-assed to begin with and then randomly wake up one day teeming with motivation to start screaming into the same void again.  Important Note:  I scream regularly into the void of Facebook and Twitter (and occasionally/shamefully in the comments sections of some sites I will not mention). I just haven't screamed into this one for long enough that it took me about 40 minutes to figure out how to log into it, and then I had to update a million things, and Google kept trying to force me to join Google+  and I freaked out and came {{{{{THISCLOSE}}}}} to clicking that button that says "Delete every single thing associated with Google like it never happened!"

In the end I did not click that button, only because I was THAT motivated to get screamy into my old school blogvoid.

So with no further fanfare, the update that you've been holding your breath for!

-I am gainfully employed.  Remember when I was unemployed for like a year and cried all the time about not being able to pay the rent or buy food?  No?  Neither do I.  It was like a lifetime ago.  Funny how those hard times that we learn so much from are so easy to bleach from our brains once we're a good ways past them.  {shudder}

-Everyone I know has either gotten married or knocked up, or some combination of both, in the last few years.  I've done neither since Noa was born.  I'm okay with it.  FOR NOW.  {cue menacing music} Really though, the people I like make ADORABLE frigging children.  Someday when these wee lads and lassies are old enough I shall beckon them to my knee (probably at Chateau Neubauer on Arlington Pond) and regale them with tales of "That time you were THIS SMALL!" and "That time I held you for the FIRST TIME!" and the lipstick marks I will leave on their cheeks shall be coral, or canteloupe, or some shade of an offensive magenta. I will smell of Chanel and Maker's Mark, as all successful adopted aunties do, and I will wink and secretly hand them twenty dollar bills.

Moving on.

-I'm starting a podcast soon, and you're going to listen to it.  It may or may not be terrible, and it may or may not be recorded in my boyfriend's Closet Office.  Important Note:  The Closet Office is the giant closet that we turned into Matt's office when he moved in here in March.  It's not like he's stuffed into a little 18" X 36" space or something; the man has about 8 X 5 feet to work with.  It's pretty much the only space in this apartment that Noa is NOT allowed to party in, and I feel like it's a good enough size to get 2 or 3 people together to sit on the floor and blather and argue about what masculinity means these days--while being recorded.  Important Note: This came up in conversation recently and I can't wait to attack this topic in depth with some broads I know.  Let's just say-- sometimes I'm ready to blame the changing attitudes of masculinity on Ben Gibbard and that kid on the OC who listened to Death Cab For Cutie all the time, but a deeper look at The New Male uncovers many many layers that I will not begin to peel away here.  Ooooh, are you dyyyyying to know what kinds of layers I'm planning on peeling here?!  Listen to my podcast when I start actually making it.  I promise it will feature amazing and smart women, and all of us will sing the theme song together in a "....finishing each other's sentences {gigglegiggle}!" kind of way.  Hold thy breath!

-I'm tired.  Pretty much like all the time, but specifically right this very minute.  I'm sure this update has been breathtakingly enlightening for you, and I promise there will be more to come, SOONER RATHER THAN THREE YEARS FROM NOW!

This return to the blogothing has been SO TRIUMPHANT!  Go neckties!