Dark Age

I recently thought, "Hey, remember that time I had a blog?" All six posts that I wrote, evidently in vain, about my glamorous life as a puppy snuggler? (By the way, one slip of the finger and that n becomes an m and I'd be living the cutest illegal life ever, sneaking dogs into places beyond their wildest dreams, like cathouses). But I digress.

I creeped on my former self the other day, and got a little sad that I stopped writing. I had a rather eventful summer, if not year, and I rather wish I had cared enough to chronicle my experiences. Sure, I can do another Year in Review post next month, but then I might forget about the time we needed a map and didn't know that we'd had one all along until it was way too late. Or the time when the housekeeper walked in on me in my hotel room during my last night watch job. Yeah, I got Consuela'd.

I guess I was just undergoing a reinvention and wanted to skip right to the good part. I'm not talking a caterpillar that enters a cocoon as something you'd squish with a slipper and exits as something you beg to alight on your hand. Think more along the lines of last year's Celtics; it got a little ugly here and there, but it was almost intentional because there were first round draft picks to be had. I was simply on an off roading adventure, trading the life I had fallen into for a life of my choosing. I learned a lot, I changed enough (I used a freaking umbrella the other day for the first time in years...who the hell am I?), and if I do say so myself, I came out well on top. Much like the Green, I am a work in progress, but now I know that's okay.

I guess that's it for today. Adios.

P.S. Find the album Dark Age by Gavin Castleton on the interweb, you will not regret it. It's one of my favorites.