Tuesday, September 22, 2009

you can scoop out my brain, shape it into an ear and then tell me your pain

by three months i really meant seven. but whatever. a lot has happened since i last wrote about not a whole lot. which means this is going to be another post full of gratuitous nothingness, covering far too much time to contain anything particularly detailed. the idea, which i realize will likely never develop into anything more than an idea, is to start writing enough that i can include a detail here and there.

here's a moment of false pride. the real reason i'm writing again: i like my writing. not that anyone else does, or should for that matter. but its a testament to anyone's artistic accomplishments when they like their own art. metal fans write metal music until they are good enough to be their own fans. and so on. i guess basically i'm saying that my writing has developed enough over the years that i've found a "voice" that's some sort of approximation of the authors i most enjoy. it makes it fun to go back and read things that were written long enough ago that their content has been forgotten. again, i don't expect anyone else to find any satisfaction in my writing.

anothe reason i'm writing again is so that kari will finally stop telling me to update my blog. for some reason she expects me to, despite the fact that i've never, ever, ever kept a frequently updated anything. so this one's for you kari.

kari's pregnant. tomorrow we get to go to the doctor. he'll shoot sound waves into kari. some of those sound waves will bounce off the baby's private parts so that we'll know if we should buy everything blue or pink. that's pretty exciting.

i guess that's it for now. i don't want to overdo it. or is it already overdid? shoot. k, bye.

1 comment:

Toots said...

That was a little graphic (in your description of how ascertaining the gender of our little baby is done). And thank you for updating. I just found out today that you've updated three times since last February. Good jorb. And I like your writing, too--which is why outside of my folks you were the only one I wrote regularly to on and off my mission and on and off your mission. When one writes one gets to read!