Reconciliation

Dear Blog,

Let us not beat around the bush or tiptoe about the proverbial daisies any longer. Clearly, we have some issues that need to be discussed.

We've drifted apart.

(Blog responds with a series of beeps and electronic noises similar to R2D2, or at least that's what I imagine.)

No, it has nothing to do with Facebook. Why do you always bring her up? She means nothing to me. I only use her for Scrabble.

I'm committed to you. We've been together for over six years. That's the longest relationship I've ever had... with a blog. Or... a girl.

I want this to work, too! But why does everything I write have to be perfect and grandiose?

Well, that's how you make me feel. Like nothing is ever good enough.

Well, I'm not Dooce! I'm me! Nice to meet ya! Maybe if you made as much money as her blog does, I could quit my job and spend all day with you.

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.

Look, I admit, I have been neglecting you. But I'm here now. Fighting for you. Fighting for us. Doesn't that count for anything?

Where did we go wrong? Remember when we first began, we'd do it like two or three times a day. Then it was once a day. And now we're lucky if we do it once a week. When did it become such a chore? I mean, I still enjoy it when we do get together.

We sure had some good times, didn't we? You stuck with me during my ALL CAPS phase and those early days of zero and one comments, when all we had or needed was each other.

I miss you. I miss us.

Do you remember the first time we went all the way... to 50 comments? That's right, the Nuvaring post. *sniff* You do remember!

Oh blog, come here, I just wanna publish you right here and now.

"Try to see it my way. Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong. While you see it your way, there's a chance that we might fall apart before too long. We can work it out..."

Expectant mothers, Nintendo, & the bachelor

Well, I haven't been blogging much lately. That could be attributed to a number of things, such as being exhausted from NaBloSoThaDraWe, which with at least two participants including me was a rousing success. (Thanks, Eileen.) But I think mostly it comes down to the fact that I haven't been typing things in this box and hitting publish much lately. I've done that like zero times in the past ten days.

It was quite an eventful weekend for me, though. Friday night, I hung out with the Darryls. We did your typical guy stuff. Shot pool, discussed the latest happenings on General Hospital, and even sang a bit of karaoke without music. (I know what you're saying. Is it still considered karaoke without the music, Bone? And all I have to say to that is, probably not.) It was all very manly though, not that I needed to clarify that or anything.

Saturday night, I went to a friend's 40th birthday celebration. At some point in the evening, I found myself in a not uncommon position for a bachelor, wedged between two pregnant women. Not physically. Well, sort of. Anyway, that was even more fun than it sounds.

Unfortunately, I didn't plan ahead, and had no signal to get me out of a conversation, such as head patting or chicken wing. So there I sat, as they discussed contractions, itchy stomachs, minivans, and dilations. Who knew pregnancy affected the eyes!

I found myself unable to contribute much to the conversation, since my gynecology knowledge is pretty much limited to Nuvaring commercials. But I wanted to learn what I could, figuring it could always come in handy later. So during a break in the conversation, I chimed in with, "So what exactly does a contraction feel like?" Not long after that, I went over and started petting the dog.

After the party, I went back to Kywana's for a bit. It's what the kids call the "after party." They had downloaded Super Mario Brothers for the Wii, so we were all taking turns playing. Then when it got to Kywana Junior's turn to play, she asked her mother, "What do I do?"

Oh my gosh. She's never played. It was like I had stepped on a rake and the handle smacked me in the face. Except that I didn't cry. I was sad for her at first, because she had never played Super Mario Brothers. Then I was sad for me, because I was old.

All turned out well though. It wound up being sort of like a little video game history lesson. Early Mario World Civilization 101: The Origins Of Mario Kart.

Tune in next time when I offer Bone's Helpful Lamaze Tips. And also provide an editorial commentary on why Luigi got the shaft. Or maybe I'll just blog about the Olympics.

"Her boyfriend, he don't know, anything about her. He's too stoned, Nintendo. I wish that I could make her see, she's just the flavor of the weak..."