What’s up, nerds? I know I say I’m going to write in the blog more but I say a lot of things that almost never come to be. Blogging is a whole different thing nowadays than it was back in the 20th century when I first started doing it. Everyone wants exposure and followers and likes so they write coherent posts with actual themes and include pictures and stuff. I don’t see that happening here, because ugh who has time and anyway I know fuck-all about coding so I will likely never learn to do anything more than what I already do here, which is write a bunch of nonsense that is barely even interesting.
THAT SAID… Yesterday was the 2-year anniversary of the Bike Ride From Heck and I went back to read all of those posts and it was, if you’ll indulge me, QUITE A RIDE. Rather a lot has happened in the 731 days since, and re-reading those posts was a bit like looking at my past self through a screen door. It’s me, but there’s a barrier there, you know?
A quick recap: friends go for bike ride and picnic. Husband is SAVAGELY ATTACKED by gravity and physics, gets to ride in helicopter. Spends 11 days as a guest of Morristown Memorial Hospital and then an additional 5 in the Kessler Rehabilitation Spa and Circus Arts School. We get his parts stuck back on, fix his jaw and eyeballs and get on with our lives. At some point we decide that we need to move to Ohio (clearly, a bump on the head isn’t good for you) so we pack up all our shit and animals and schlep it 400 miles west to beautiful suburban Shaker Heights, where we now reside.
We are happy here, even though there are some things about living here that get FRUSTRATING, and if you know me at all, you know that the top two things on that list are that there is no Wegmans here and that I have to pump my own fucking gas, which is AGAINST MY BELIEF SYSTEM. One thing I did to help with that last bit is trade in my beloved trucky-truck for a Subaru Outback, which gets literally twice the gas mileage, but is slightly less cool overall. Still have to pump my own fucking gas, but I do it less often so we’ll call it a draw and I will complain about it only slightly less.
But it gets weird here. My current frustration is that I need fresh okra for a recipe I want to make. In New Jersey, if the Wegmans didn’t have it, then the Indian grocery stores probably would and if not, then the Hispanic/Latino market would. Here? Ummmmmmmmmm well none of the three grocery stores I normally go to had any and there IS a Latino market but it’s like… across town, which isn’t far, actually, but is a pain in my ass to get to and longtime lovers of my ass already know that avoiding pains in it is literally my number one goal of every day. SO. No fresh okra in my possession just yet.
It’s been an adjustment in little quirky ways like that.
Speaking of quirky, What’s-His-Name is pretty much fully recovered from his date with the asphalt. To look at him, you’d never know anything had happened because he looks perfectly normal. Well, he looks like an absolute goon most of the time but that’s normal for him so it’s a good thing. His jaw healed up nicely and all of his other bumps and bruises went away (except where he broke his hand and we didn’t notice for like, a week and it healed slightly weird so the palm of his hand is weirdly bumpy but he has full mobility so we’re just going to live with it until he’s like “hahaha touch my hand” and I’m all “ewwww it’s so weird and bumpy!” and we laugh). When he gets sun on his face, you can see the big scars over his eyebrow (there wasn’t enough there to stitch up so they just slapped some gauze over it and let nature do its thing), and his one eye is still SLIGHTLY stuck, but he’s just fine. He does his SHOUTY MAN things on the third floor and I do my Mom Shit on the first floor (except right now, I’m in my office on the 2nd floor but there is a tree being taken down across the street which is drowning out any SHOUTY MAN action that might be going on upstairs). We are happy here.
September 5th will likely never be my favorite day of the year, but instead of trying to ignore what happened, I tried to spend the day being grateful that everything that DID happen went as well as it possibly could (except for the bike ride part, which we kind of did wrong). It’s one of those things were you think you would wish that it had never happened but if it hadn’t? I have no idea what we’d be doing now. We’d probably still be in New Jersey, which would probably be fine. I don’t know. I don’t like to play the What If game because there’s no way to ever know for sure so why torture yourself wondering?
Two years, y’all. I don’t know who is even still reading thishere blog thing and while I love my readers very much (y’all are VERY smart and good-looking), I tend to neglect you by posting every 6 months whether I need to or not. Maybe I’ll change that habit and post more often but… don’t hold your breath.