I could see how you might think the title of this post that I am merely making one of those posts where a writer apologizes for not posting in months and generally not doing anything to deserve the label “writer” and, for that matter, certainly not deserving the profession of “writer.”
Well, the joke is on you! (In former Soviet Russia, you are on joke!) Instead of merely posting once to this blog, I am posting many times on a NEW blog! (if you define many as a few, I guess, which I do. Oh, by the way, I finally moved to punch-you-in-the-face-and-steal-your-purse San Francisco. Sarah and I have a beautiful apartment in the Southeastern corner of the city. I ride the train for most of an hour to work, and she walks two blocks. So far, so awesome.
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- OMG i remember my dream last night
- or part of it
- i was engaged to be married to steve buscemi
- and i was really creeped out by him
- sorry about that
- I am Steve Buscemi
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Lately I have been using three more variable names:
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Now that I bike to work most days again, my pants fall off if I don’t wear a belt and I think that I am in danger of developing a tan. Sarah is drenched in freckles and has almost as many pairs of flip-flops as regular shoes.
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Awake, befogged, I blinked and struggled into dim reality. Sarah hadn’t turned any lights on and the sky was darkly overcast.
“Oh, wow, what time is it?” I asked no one in particular.
“It’s like ten fifteen,” answered Delsym, the cough medicine I had taken the night before*.
“What?” I hollered, sitting bolt upright.
“You looked so cute sleeping there, I figured that you could use an extra couple of hours of sleep.”
“…and some crazy dreams. You liked running in them, right?”
“I will be so glad when I’m feeling better.”
*Note: this is an intentionally imagined conversation, although it is possible that the cold medicine left me weirder than usual.
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I’m pleased to mention that I just mailed paperwork over to Yahoo! Inc. headquarters in Sunnyvale, California accepting their offer and signing away the rights to any inventions I might make while toiling in their internet forges. Clang! will sound my internet hammer, and pixelated sparks will flicker in the air over my head. The Thanksgiving holiday has extended my two weeks at SugarCRM, but I have a vested interest in making the transition smooth: some of my options have vested! Plus, I’ve made some good friends at Sugar, and I’d hate to leave a tangle of a half-finished project.
I start at Yahoo! on December seventh, and I will be working in the Systems Engineering and Development group as a Software Development Engineer. Basically, I’ll be jumping feet first into a team of full-stack web developers and systems admins, who build and maintain web applications from the system calls to the css positioning — at least if you use the intense interviews as a reference.
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A year ago I woke up from trying to sleep sideways in my mostly broken armchair after making one last push to pack up my things for the movers to take to California. It was an inauspicious start to my the day, which ended up being pretty darn awesome. I left Minnesota with a heart so heavy that it dragged on the ground, but something about the endless blue of the sky and the intensity of the sun has kept me sold. A couple of weeks ago Sarah and I walked along the beach — me waist deep in the icy Pacific and her skipping through the frothy edge of the waves — and it felt like what should have been happening all my life.
Sarah is here now, living with me, and my huge one bedroom has become a little claustrophobic: we have two offices, a dining table, and a living room jammed into the living room. When I work from home, Sarah makes me the most amazing turkey avocado sandwiches with smoked cheddar and red onions. Eating one is like being punched in the face with happiness. Not that Sarah punches me in the face — that would leave visible marks.
Call the police, she hits me!
(this is just a joke)
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I flew back to Minneapolis to bring Sarah to California to live with me. Coincidentally, umber°studios was due to have a show upon the day of my arrival — and they had an open call for work. Sarah submitted work, Paul submitted work, Zach submitted work, and so on until the walls were bursting with fantastic art.
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His skin: papery. He was immobile, paralyzed with venom, half curled so he could look nowhere but his own belly. He thanked whatever demon was responsible for deadening the wound from which the bees were crawling. They flew to unknown places and returned, their tiny feet scratching as they landed, then nothing but vague sensations of motion as they found the entrance to their hive.
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