Self Flagellation.

Ok, today I realized, after looking at people's Blogs, that I do not write in mine nearly enough. I think this is because of a few reasons.

1. I'm not a very good writer, and I always find it to be a little bit of a chore. Kind of like exercise, one of those things I feel like I "should" do in order to be a better person., but secretly hate.

2. My life is happily, blissfully un-interesting. I think one of the things I'm most thankful about is that I have genuinely talented, interesting friends--because it takes the pressure off of me to actually have a life. When I hang out with them, they bring the life.

I added a picture to my profile today, and I think I look pretty intelligent in the picture, but after re-reading through old posts (and showing the whole blog-thing to Jeannie for the first time) I realized that I write mostly about eating and farting. Which is fairly appropriate, but I guess the truth about me lies somewhere in between the picture and the words.

Lots of visitors. Robin and Gena came for a great quick visit that involved lots of wine drinking and conversation and muffin-eating. My 'rents are coming this weekend. Then Schlueter in early November, and I hear a rumor of a potential Ricky Elz visit in November? I sure hope so. 'Twould be a good time.

Too many stories about work to tell here.

Now that Jeannie knows about this blog, and I'm thinking of telling other people about it, I suppose I shall be guilted and forced (in a good way) to write more. It does seem to shrink distances when I read other people's.