Everytime I take an inadvertent Blog Hiatus, I feel the need to make changes when I return.
This is probably the biggest change that I have made thus far.
Dragging my blog out of the shadows of the blogosphere and into the broad daylight of networked blogs attaching it to my Facebook page, which is basically like stapling my drivers License to the cover page.
I have been blogging for almost ten years….over ten years now.
I have been blogging off and on since I had one YOUNG son.
Now I have one son staring puberty in the face, one son contemplating life with two digits in his age, and third son with the Potty looming in his future.
When I Started blogging the world was fundamentally different than it is now.
When I Started blogging some things that I saw, felt and believed are no longer things that I see, feel and believe.
When I Started Blogging I was Grasping with the age of 30, with no thought of what 40 would feel like. Today I am 41 and feverishly preparing for 50.
It has been a ride. A ride I have largely shared with strangers.
With a few clicks, I have exposed myself to relatives, Coworkers, Classmates, and even my Mother.
I never thought I would be here. But here I am.
Out here for the world to see.
Naked and unashamed.
Metaphorically speaking…because my Momma is watching.
I just spent the past two weeks in Breakfast hell. 5 and 6 am call times, sometimes not getting off until 9 and 10 pm that night. It refocused the importance of sleep in my life.
Setting and enforcing BedTimes, enforcing a routine that works and Staying in bed until a certain time has done wonders to get me through this period. I am looking forward to maintaining that kind of lifestyle as I transition back to a more conventional Lifestyle.
I feel better. My life is better. My demeanor is far more stable, even WITH the ungodly wake up times.
As someone who suffered for YEARS in and out of marriage with insomnia, The power I have taken over my bedtime routine is the single Most significant part of maintaining my sanity throughout this process.
Today’s Advice: If you suffer from Insomnia, do not attack yourself…attack your routine, or lack thereof.
In forty years of life, few accomplishments are as noteworthy as a full calendar year of The Black Odd Couple.
Doing The Black Odd Couple established my ability to successfully work with another Black man.
It Helped me overcome an enduring dissatisfaction with the sound of my own Voice.
It enabled me to stick to my guns and complete a task solely on my own.
I was able to DO something about my dissatisfaction with the Media. I BECAME the media and discussed what I thought was important.
If you read this blog with any regularity, I hope you join Wise and me every Wednesday night 9pmET/8CT
The hardest part about blogging is never the first day back.
The hardest part about blogging is the second day back. The second day back is so hard that it can often pre-empt the first day.
What enables a blogger to press forward?
It’s good to see you back again. Yes, I do know how long ago Sept 9th was, because I come by this site everyday. Don’t know what it is that’s challenging you, but please know that you are not alone and there are people that you don’t even know who wish you well and pray for your strength; who feel your absence when you’re MIA. Stay strong in the Lord and in the power of His might, and continue to fight the good fight. I hope to see you here again soon…. – Annette B.
If that doesn’t make you wanna get your ass up and keep grinding, what will? One of the things that motivates any blogger honest enough to say so is Blog comments.
Getting people to go to your Blog is hard enough. Getting them to Go there…and feel compelled to actually comment? It’s like adrenaline in your veins.
I got that comment at 11:02 am. At that very moment, it was without a doubt that I would be right back here today, If only to say Thank you.
I speak for bloggers everywhere when I say that people who comment on blogs are special and wonderful people who are second only to People who pay people living wages to blog things that they are passionate about.
Blog Trolls? Fuck y’all. Seriously. A Hobby would do wonders for you. A few Suggestions from me, gratis
Poisonous Phallic Consumption
Competitive Suicidal Feces Eating
Comment Spammers? Just…stop, please. Stop or join the Trolls in a new hobby.
Many of you are dragging yourselves out of bed and Cursing the weekday gods. Not the kid.
This is the most fabulous Monday I have had since The six Mondays that followed Pittsburgh Steeler Super Bowl Victories.
Actually this is far more fabulous than that, because that wasn’t really about me.
This is all about me.
I am sitting in MY chair.
In MY place.
On MY computer.
On MY schedule.
This may not seem like a big deal to you.
Perhaps, that is because you didn’t feel like you were in the most comfortable form of prison.
No. Not, my marriage. I got better sense and my momma raised me better than to speak all willy nilly on that aspect of my life.
I am talking about the prison of the mind.
The shackles that We labor under…struggle with…and surrender to every day
I spent 90 days Facing the Very demons that befell me in the autumn of 2002.
Sometimes it didn’t seem like I was going to make it.
But I am here. Bruised…Humbled…Renewed…Emboldened.
The last post on this blog was September 9.
Do you know how LONG ago that was?
Let’s just Say Cam Newton, Wade Phillips, and Brett Favre felt a great deal differently about their lives on September 9 than they do on December 13.
I am in the same boat, although I would have to say I am feeling more Newton-ish about my chances in Life than I am feeling Favre-ish.
It has been a long time. I thought many things that I wanted to write in those 94 days.
God is faithful. He preserved me.
Thank God for Second…um….Third…no…Fourth…Shit, what number chance am I on now?
Thank God for mercy.
I am a man of many pet peeves.
So many that I don’t even bother to rank them.
They are deep, they are old, and they are enduring.
Today’s Pet peeve is the following.
Them: Are you okay? You seem really bothered.
Me: Nah…Im a lil irritated but Im not all that Heated.
Them: No, you’re definitely angry.
^—This right here? No. No, No, a thousand times no.
I don’t own much. But My feelings? I own every stitch. I paid for a lifetime of feelings and they come already paid for.
I get to use them as much or as often as I like.
If you ask me how I feel, I am going to tell you.
It’s going to be complex and nuanced…because my feelings are complex and nuanced.
NO, thats probably not how your daddy did it.
Or your Ex.
Or (insert whatever dude comes to mind)
I have suffered from being a little loose with the truth in my past, I am actively trying to overcome that.
What I don’t do…is lie about my feelings.
I don’t sugarcoat them or Bullshit you about them.
And if we have any kind of real relationship, I divulged this little tidbit early on.
When you openly question my emotions, or even worse, flat out call bullshit on them you basically tell me that my feelings are yours…not mine.
You don’t get to do that.
Those are my feelings. Fucked up though they may be. They are mine…and I put them to you exactly as I felt them.
When you make a habit of trying to tell ME how I feel about shit, I make a habit of Not feeling too great when youre around…and telling you about that.
Is this to say This is how im supposed to do it?
This is to say this IS how I do it.
Warts and all, folks…That’s what I’m asking.
As a waiter, I witness indecision up close and personally.
“Do I want the Twiggy Salad or the Albert Haynesworth 3LB PorterHouse? What do you think?”
Me: That is a curious choice, maam, don’t you think? How did you arrive at THOSE two possibilities?
I am not about to intervene and aid in the selection of two completely different ideas for someone else. I have enough problems making my OWN choices.
Speaking of my own choices…
Today I came face to face with a terrifying possibility.
It wasn’t just the possibility that I was wrong about something.
It was the possibility that I was wrong about something that I SHOULD HAVE FUCKING KNOWN BETTER ABOUT.
Let’s say you’re Getting your Surf on and minding your own business and you spy a link that says
“Click this link and input your Social Security # to receive a free Tickle Me Cabbage Patch Doll holding a Brand New Wii-Pad while wearing Limited Edition Jordans in your size. ”
At first you think: Hey…I might get got fooling around adding my SS# on the internet all willy-nilly like.
Then…Hmmm…maybe its legit. It IS posted in Helvetica, after all.
Next thing you know….
You wake up and your Laptop has roaches crawling all over it. Not Roaches you can kill…but life sized e-roaches crawling on your screen like some Post-apocalyptic screen saver*.
Now…Deep down you KNEW that clicking that link was a bad idea. But for reasons that Just.don’t.warrant.Steering away from following your instincts.
As you get older, your instincts get stronger and more precise, ( I hope) so your ability to choose the right rolls of the dice to gamble on are based more in experience and less in “the moment”
But if you shortchange your instincts in favor of seeing things as they need to be in order to justify doing some shit you probably ought not to…That would be you setting yourself up.
Setting yourself up is worse than Being set up…I promise.
*This happened to the wife’s laptop. For reasons unknown to me, she was determined to find the RKelly Sex tape on the internet. She was either too embarrased to ask me or she figured I was too Pegroid to know how to find it. I told her that it showed her right for falling prey to either circumstance. I then Exterminated her Laptop, cause…I had vows to maintain.
I thought about going back and inquiring as to just how many times I had abandoned this blog. I decided that might embarrass me so much that I might re-abandon this blog in mid draft.
As someone who has been guilty of this infraction, I know the feeling all too well.
Many times Writer’s block comes while you sit and try to write one thing. It sits on the keyboard and swats away your inspiration like Mutumbo and then waves that long ET-esque finger at you.
Then it’s gone. What remains is the Stench of failure.
The SoF is the nagging suspicion that you are wasting your efforts. Sweating pools of blood that morph into subjects and predicates destined to be read by YOU.
and ONLY you.
Link it up and tweet it up and Market it all you like…No one reads it…So the next time, the burn to write is dampened.
The Stench of Failure has whooshed in and tempered the burn to write.
The Stench of Failure Pervades everything a writer attempts until he/she finds peace with his vocation/passion, in all its solitude and potential futility.
You don’t beat the Stench of Failure until you stop obsessing over BlogStats. The only blogs visisted less than my blog is my blog with no new posts in the past three months.
Calling it writer’s block shifts your focus away from the true culprit.
Blaming Writer’s Block for the work of the Stench of Failure is the equivalent of the FBI harrassing Richard Jewell and letting Eric Rudolf get away.
Stop worrying about page hits and write.
Stop tripping off how many comments you get and write.
Stop whining about how Click whoring Bloggers are ruining the game and WRITE.
And most importantly…
Stop eavesdropping on me when I’m writing blog posts to myself.
IM not about to make pronouncements as to what the end of THIS hiatus will hold for anyone.
I will merely say that more than enough has changed in my life to warrant me to give this personalized Blogging thing a stab once again.
It’s been almost three years since I Snuffed out the GovtName Blog and picked up this moniker.
During that time, I spent more time getting my Pundit on than I did waxing personal.
Evan as my life got more and more interesting I wrote about it less and less.
The Less I wrote about it, the more I NEEDED to write about it.
And now look at me.
Here. Doing This. Again.
That never say never shit is real folks.
Editor’s Note: yes. Cryptic and enigmatic. Stick around or Get around. I will love you all the same.
Thanks to an Inexplicable service outage in the middle of the work day I had to dust off the Dinosaur and Post up my response to BnB’s questions for the fellas
1.When a man is no longer interested in a woman, why can’t he be responsible enough to let that woman know he is no longer feeling her rather than pulling “disappearing acts” (i.e. stop the calling, texting, emailing) and hoping she figures it out on her own?
Firstly, are we SURE women didn’t invent this? Okay, that’s projecting, let me stop.
The reality is that ultimately, we run out of stuff to say.
Being particularly sensitive to rejection, I tend to just stop communicating rather than issuing some sort of Dear Jane call/text/email/carrier pigeon.
The “Fade to black” is a common tactic employed by men AND women.
When you think about it, its pretty cut and dry. It says:
“I do not have anything else to say. If I did, I would be contacting you.”
Is it possible they have been somehow inhibited from commucation? Sure. Its POSSIBLE. But I would then refer you to my favorite Razor
Occam’s razor (or Ockham’s razor), is the meta-theoretical principle that “entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity” (entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem) and the conclusion thereof, that the simplest solution is usually the correct one.
Bear in mind, the alternative is someone calling you who doesn’t REALLY have anything to say. Who wants that?
2. What does a man mean when he says “He’s not ready for a relationship right now” or “I’m not ready to be serious”?
It means moderate your expectations. It means YES he wants to have sex, but NO he doesn’t wish to explore the complexities of a relationship. Reading more into that conversation is pointless.
3. Why do mean lie about stupid stuff? Why is everything a fact-finding expedition? Why do I have to dig it out of them like I’m mining for gold?
Truths hurts. Some truths are avoided because we don’t wanna hurt YOU. Some because we don’t wanna hurt ourselves. Mostly the latter.
Many times the art of telling the truth revolves around being who we WISH we were and being who we are.
4. Why won’t a man just tell you what their thoughts are feelings are about your relationship?
Expressing emotionalism is the most vulnerable form of communication. When boys are raised to express emotionalism they will be equipped to express that to their prospective spouses.
Are you preparing the young men in your life to do that? Surely you don’t think its going to come naturally…
5. Why even start a sentence with “Baby, just let me explain…”
What are we supposed to say?
“Hey…you know how that is. ” *kanyeshrug* “What’s for dinner?”