I have not posted in a long time. I have been busy. It is precisely when the most blog-worthy material is occurring that one has the least time to write.
Since last we met, I have moved. Thrice. Kevin promises that it will be the last time for a good long while. We've even planned out how many triple bunk beds we can fit in our second bedroom and thus how many kids we can have before a larger place is necessitated. By my reckoning the number is 12, but come unlucky child 13 and we'll have to upgrade to a three-bedroom. Luckily that won't be for five or six years, and I'll have plenty of cheap labor to help me pack.
I have also, in the past nine months, planned and executed a wedding. Quite successfully, I might add. I did less well with the honeymoon. (Please don't be juvenile.) Kevin and I discovered that not only did we spend the week in varying degrees of viral-induced agony, but we also don't have a single picture of us together from our honeymoon. I think this calls for a second one, if only to fill the frame I have set aside on an otherwise blank wall for just such a Kodak moment.
I have had two nieces. Yes, the labor was hard, but I came through it okay, and the girls are doing beautifully.
I turned twenty-five. For said birthday, I received OneNote, which has made organizing all my billions of fictive thoughts much easier. I feel ambitious to write again. Though, I promise you, I have not been spending time with my novels instead of my blog. I have been far too busy for either. That will change, however. Though I will never receive a penny for my work, I vow to waste years of my life scribbling away (or tip-tapping away on Eddie, my beloved laptop) on various pieces of aspiring literature.
I survived work at the Co-op during a championship football season. I changed my name. Twice. I have said positive things about Relief Society. I have had approximately 250 nightmares. I have been introduced to Sports Night. I got to spend time with Kevin, which we all know never happened during the courtship. I have built a registry and then purchased nearly everything on it. I have ordered pictures printed and hung a ridiculous number of frames. I am decorating an apartment against the event that we ever have people over to see it. I read regularly. I clean, do laundry, grocery shop, and I even try to make my husband dinner occasionally (it's not working: he's lost weight. I've gained it.)
Anyway, that's why I haven't written.
If you want, you can blame Facebook, which makes emotional outlets so much more accessible. But I'm done with Facebook and its cheap allurements. I have a rant about that, if you care to hear it. In fact, I have several things I can write about (and may eventually.) If anyone is still reading, I am open to suggestions, requests, ransom demands, etc. Popular topics on my mind include why I hate my job and why I can't leave it; what I'm not doing with my talents; my Marxist views on public transit (which is really part of a larger expose' on the general goings-on of the public transit universe); and married life: so, how is it?
And I promise to be better from now on.
