I’m thirty-one, America.  That’s crazy to me.  I’ve been this age for almost two months and I still can’t get behind it.  Sam will be thirty-two in November.  Zach will be five.  Lucy will be two.

I don’t feel thirty-one.

A benefit long enjoyed from my maternal family is a real sense of youth.  My grandfather is in his mid-nineties and slowing down.  But his slowing down is still faster than many people I’ve met in their sixties.  Age is relative so very much in my experience, particularly with the insane discoveries being made lately in aging and genetics.

I’m still thirty-one, though.


As previously stated, America, I am something of a writer.  Except for the writing part.  I’ve forgotten the trick of it, you see.  There’s a satisfaction akin to LEGO snapping together when a sentence is cobbled airtight.  Once I was quite clever and twee and can still manage such in conversation, but the real trick of writing is the enjoyment.

I’ve forgotten that trick, you see.

To help a bit I’m doing a blog post each day of the month of August.  This will be quite tricky as I’ll be gone for almost a week midway.  I’ll have to schedule and such, but you aren’t interested in the bones, America.  You want the meat.  (though, roasted marrow is considered quite a treat, if you were unaware)

There’s topics I’ve listed and there’s a plan and all that, and I hope I can stick with it.  It’s all from a website I’ve shown before.  And it will all be frustrating since my current laptop is a jalopy of missing keys and misfiring wi-fi, but I honestly enjoy composing longhand, so that’s not a big deal.

No, it’s all motivation and exploration.  (And ignoring word count.  Woof.  I’ll type for a-g-e-s and have 100 words – it’s very frustrating)

I’m thirty-one.  Thirty-one days hath August, so I’ll go thirty-one days in a row and we’ll see what happens.  We’ll see if I learn the trick and stay off the Internet.  Well, not off but not playing on it.  Addiction is an ugly thing.  So, I’ll start tomorrow and we’ll see what happens.

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