A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. -Oscar Wilde

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

masochism, or just plain nuts?

Hello, poor neglected blog. I've... been a little busy.

Make that a lot busy.

Make that ZOMG what was I thinking? busy.

 Yeah, nothing quite like a heapin' helpin' of WTF was I thinking, piling on this madness while dealing with, you know, the soul-crushing grief (yes, still-- and don't judge unless you've also experienced something like my 2011), the unending insanity I can't talk about in the professional realm, and have I mentioned the striking developments in my personal life? Yeah, there's a pretty big (read: taller than me!) one of those.

 But I digress. In addition to the great big ol' bag of WTFery that is my life at the present, I decided to host a 30th birthday party for my brother. At PNC Park. Yes Virginia, I'm all too painfully aware that it should have been (past participle) his 30th birthday, but you know what? Part of me wants to remind people, other people outside of my parents and myself, that my brother lived and mattered. And part of me is pissed and annoyed by how easily everyone outside of a very, very select few seem to remember that having someone so traumatically and abruptly removed from our lives pretty much alters the fundamental fabric of our existence. So, in a way, I think I'm doing this a great big F-you, my brother effing matters kind of thing.

And, you know, using this as the official kick-off to my grand tour of all 30 MLB stadiums. Should that be stadia? I'm not quite up on my Latin-by-way-of-ancient Greek. I'm hoping to hit somewhere between 5-7 this year-- we shall see... especially if I'm doing PurpleSwim again (just 5 months and change left to prepare!!!), and my BRIGHT BLAZE ORANGE swim cap perfect for open water practice just arrived in the mail today.


 Am I a glutton for punishment or what?  What is wrong with me?

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