Skip to main content

300+ posts, remembered.

Yeah, so we're a bit past 300 posts, at about 306 published posts, but it's still worth reflecting on where I've been. It occurred to me the other day--I've been blogging off and on for 15 years now. That's crazy. Here are some of my thoughts on all that.

As I mentioned before, I've felt hesitant about continuing this blog. That's largely because, I think, I have bad memories of my early days, the take-no-prisoners days. I'm glad my old blog doesn't exist anymore: Not only was it beyond embarrassing, but also it hurt people, and I'm not proud of that.

That being said, I learned a lot from blogging, even then, in those larval days. I'd like to think I honed my writerly skills and voice through it, learned some niceties of joining subjects and verbs with their various clausal and phrasal accouterments. Also, something about getting my thoughts and feelings out into the world...though sometimes damaging, as it could be back then, it was still instructive.

Time passed, and life changed; I got sober and, through it, matured somewhat. I started this blog around then. I was still attention seeking and at times lacking in social grace/awareness, but I was beginning to become a decent person. I was in a sort of pupal stage by this point, I suppose. There were still other unaddressed problems in my life, many unbeknownst to me then, that expressed themselves in sometimes less-than-mature or stupid posts, but I was more well-intended than I had been.

I drifted away from blogging for whatever reason. I went back to school, too; after graduating, I lucked into a good job. And somewhere in there the blogging itch came back. Or perhaps, more specifically, a writing itch came back, and blogging was the most immediate outlet I knew.

As I said in that revival post (re: "itch"), I have thoughts and feelings about things, including reviews, and want a place to share them. So, too, evidently, do I have reflections and updates about my life. I'm not sure all this will be interesting to other people, but some writerly impulse in me pushes me to share them all the same.

So have I metamorphosed into an adult blogger? One who can share his thoughts well, fairly and simply, who can be both interesting and mostly consistent? Can I use this blog as a legitimate space for my thoughts, to share things without hurting myself and others? Can I express opinions here because I think they're important rather than out of desperation for attention with a willingness to do anything to get it? And, perhaps equally important, what can I learn from this new stage?

Only time will tell. Maybe we'll see what the next 100 or so posts bring, and go from there.


Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo.
In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.  (Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide.)

The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous flowers herse…

Losing Doolittle.

I recently got to spend a few days at the lake house my family used to visit through most of my childhood; we no longer own it, and it turns out I missed it more deeply than I realized.

Anthony and I both got the week before NYC Pride off this year, so I contrived to get us a little time there. The cousins who own Greenshore gave Anthony and me permission to relax there for several days rather than just the 1 or 2 I had expected. Good god, I'm grateful for that.

I missed this place. Standing on the balcony, the porch, or the dock and looking out over the lake, I was reminded of the beauty and tranquility this lake represents for me. The meaning and memories, too.

This was always a place of solace and stability for me. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but we always came back to this place. It had been in our family for generations before I was even born—if we'd been able to keep it, it would have been a solid 4 generations including mine. This was where I figured out I w…

Sarracenia 'Palmerpink.'

So I posted the other day about my rekindled carnivorous plant obsession—I mean, hobby. I mentioned, in passing, that I had "discovered" a possible cultivar, so here's the lowdown on what that means and what I meant.

The term "cultivar" is short for "cultivated variety," and signifies that a particular plant is so desirable and interesting that people want exact copies of it rather than simply seed from it. Some famous American pitcher plant (Sarracenia) cultivars include the legendary Adrian Slack, the massive Leah Wilkerson, and the classic Judith Hindle.

Part of how these come about is that, unlike horses x donkeys = mules and certain other hybrids, Sarracenia hybrids aren't sterile and can be crossed and recrossed without limit. Further, random chance can create crazy combinations of genes such that even hybrids between the same species—heck, even the same parents—can demonstrate quite the variety. More on that elsewhere.

Depending on how easy…