A Little G in a Big D

It’s good to be back, my friends — after a two month hiatus, I’m once again trying to make frequent entries into the journal.

As you can see, there have been some changes. With the help of the nice folks at blogger.com, this journal has gotten a much-needed makeover. Mostly, I switched to this service so someone else could take care of the archiving — that was, for me, the biggest pain about my old, hand-coded way. Also, by switching to this service, I can update from just about any computer I want, provided I can access the old “Interweb.”

Fear not — all the old posts are still around, archived as they always were on my website. Further, the address of this journal has stayed the same, since I’m publishing it from my own site, and not off of Blogspot … I’m just not that hip.

I’m reinvigorated about posting to this journal once more. There’s always plenty to talk about (with my job, life in a small Midwestern town, etc.), and, much like with the old journal, some posts will just be words, others just pictures, and sometimes a little of both. I can’t promise to be as “crazy” as I used to be (don’t have the time, mostly, but also lack a little nerve), but I do promise to be as honest as always … meaning I’ll say just about anything and everything that comes into mind … which really just means I’ll regret just about everything I do here.

And of course, by using blogger, you all can comment. Comments are fun! Yay comments!! Yay fun!!! Just please, please, please, don’t abuse it, or I’ll be forced to take it away (Adam … I’m looking your way). But please do feel free to comment as often as you like — I’m always interested to hear (read?) what people have to say … especially about me. It’s all about me, people. ME!!

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In other news, winter is here in mid-Missouri. Sure, it’s still technically fall, but as far as this South Texan is concerned, Olde Man Winter has parked his fat ass in our fair city, and by golly, I’m not too happy about it. It was in the 30s last night, and this evening we’re supposed to get down to 16 degrees. 16!!! Back home, we unpack the ski masks and parkas for dips into the 60s. This winter’s gonna kill me.

But at least we have a fireplace …

We used it for the first time last night. It was kind of romantic … and warm. You know, I can’t remember the last time I even used a fireplace. I know we had one when I was a kid in Del Rio, and, by chance, it actually got cold enough to use it once or twice (meaning it was about 74 degrees, but we were gonna be damned if we didn’t use the thing). I remember sitting in front of its warm, amber glow, clutching a teddy bear while watching the wispy flames lick the hearth walls.

I also remember being struck by the strong desire to stick my teddy into the fire. More than anything, it was really just a way to see if my parents were actually paying attention to me (about 96% of the “troublemaking” things I did as a kid were for the same basic reason). I remember wondering how long it would take them to notice, or, better yet, how close I could actually get to doing it before they shifted their gaze from the The MacNeil/Lehrer Report towards me, leapt off the couch and arrested my flailing body. “Teddy said he was cold!!” I’d scream as they held me down, all but assuring another couple of months of therapy. But hey, at least I’d actually have something to talk about.

Last night, sitting next to Michelle while she worked on a law school memo, I was struck with the exact same urge. I wondered — ever so briefly — what would happen if I stood up, removed my shirt and threw it into the fire (I don’t have teddy bears anymore, so the shirt’s the next best thing, I guess). Would she be angry? Would she be concerned? Would that be our last fire? Would she even notice?

I hope so … I don’t own many good shirts.

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Well, that’s all for now. Again, please check in often — I’ve plenty on my mind, and plan on using the place a little more frequently than I have in the past.

By for now,

- gerry -