What I thought and what I thought I thought.

I had a long post that just got deleted. Oh telephone. You do everything so-so.

Anyway, I was waxing philosophical about life and what I thought the world would be like now according to my 22 year old that is trapped inside me.

It was a pretentious post. At least that’s why I think my phone deleted it. Or why I subconsciously deleted it while attempting to copy it *in case* my phone tried to delete it. So, just desserts I suppose. Whatever, it’s gone. Screw it.

Them’s the fucking breaks.

To bigger and better. We saw Dan and Jeanne this week. It was quite nice and very surprising and fun. They’re a damn blast. Curse you Baltimore! With your crummy Bay and crab cakes! Dan wants to start a special blog dedicated to the fauna of the greater Baltimore region.

—I AM EAGERLY AWAITING THIS, BY THE BY—

Anyway, I’ve been feeling old. Not tired and old, or pathetic and old, but it’s spring again and I can’t fucking believe it. Years are just blending into one another and are starting to feel like one really, really long, really, really strange week.

It’s been a year and a half since the wedding, a year since Pulp and SFO with Flippy and Family, which is hands down one of the greatest trips I’ve taken in my life.

I don’t feel old really, but I’m 36. I don’t look 36. Which is pretty sweet. And my lovely wife, The Strangelet is … Her age, which shall go un-noted. But she does not look her age either. Why that matters I don’t know, but I’ve already typed it into the stupid phone so I’m not going to delete it because selecting shit on here is tedious at best, and a form of torture at worst.

So here I am sitting on the porch with a cigar just like a year ago. Thinking about ancient history. Feeing nostalgic.

I’d like to do something different for work. This whole theater/ entertainment industry thing is for the damn birds. I’m over it. I want a job where I can have decent clothes and not ruin them. I was never all that into it to begin with. Suggestion? Job offers?

So, a year ago the city came out to check out a tree in our front yard. If there’s one thing this city has a lot of besides crime, it’s trees. Well they came out, said the tree was dying and were going to cut it down and replace it last fall. It was tagged and sullenly awaited its demise. We called it The Stick Tree because all it produced was sticks. Well, sticks and bird shit.

So nothing happened for a year. Nothing. Last week I shot an email to the woman I spoke way back when and again, heard nothing. Until, much to my surprise, it was removed last Wednesday. The yard and the house look naked. No happy ending. The tree did not miraculously come back to life. It was chopped down and ground up and now all that remains is a stump. Adieu Stick Tree we hardly knew ye.

I’ve been crying a lot lately over weird things. I can’t remember any specific things but it happens and I don’t know why. I kind of welcome it. Perhaps there is so much to be both happy and sad about that I just need to do it every so often so I don’t lose my mind.

Sorry, I don’t mean to be a downer, it is just a fact.

I think that’s all for now.

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