MeSoFun Blog

Wakin' up is hard to dooooo. That is all.

We enjoy cleaning our living room at 3 a.m. I don't think I've ever started a blog with a warning, but here it is: Today's entry is not for the squeamish because it deals with poop. I will use the "S" word several times. Quick.  Click here . The use of a swear word is in part to accurately report what was said last night, in part because there is simply no other word to describe what happened as anything other than a shitstorm. You were warned. But don't worry, there will be no more photos. Obviously, I like chronological story forms, so we'll start last night at around 9 p.m. Daisy went in her crate with her usual half cup of food. It was a typical rainy day. She got a little beef rawhide treat and chewed on her bone. Nothing to report. Her crate door didn't quite click right when I put her in for the night. But I grabbed the door and pulled on it several times. It didn't budge. Good enough for me. I went to bed and passed out. Around 2 a.m., I wa

It would be easy, given the topic of this blog, to use today's stormy weather as a metaphor. My wife is the only person in the world, possibly, who likes it when it rains. That's perhaps why living in Utah was doomed from the start. It basically never rains there. My wife and I are ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend , brought back together by chance. We spent months on the phone getting to re-know each other. Given my personal gray skies, I doubt that would have happened in the past six months. I haven't been hungry for the past few months. No appetite. This is very odd . Half of my early blogs involved food of some sort or another. I've battled fat-guy syndrome all my life. But a few months ago, pretty much out of nowhere, I woke up with no hunger. Didn't want breakfast. Didn't get excited by the prospect of dinner. Moreover, I've been avoiding my phone. I don't want to talk to anybody. I went about a month without talking to my Mom. That's unusual. We

Their newsroom technology was even outdated then. There's nothing like working at a newspaper. I say that despite not having much experience working outside a newsroom. I've been a softball umpire, a soccer field painter, a baseball ticket office worker, a sporting goods salesman and an electrical helper. I've also been a live-in nanny. I've never had a 9-to-5 cubicle job. Nobody really wants one but they are an inevitable fact of life for most. That's what makes a career in newspapers such an odd beast. I have no business being a relatively successful writer. Everybody I've ever known in newspapers just mumbled at their computer, "Don't worry, you're not successful." You'd better get a little jaded fast if you're going to last in this business. I only got my start because I was willing and able to go somewhere. I worked with a guy in college who had a wife and a kid. He was clearly the best writer and reporter at our paper. But he was

This was the scene in my back yard this morning. Something like this happens every year. It takes a while to dawn on me. At the high school track this morning, I was bewildered as to why a dozen or so girls were working out with their coach at 9 a.m. Shouldn't they be, you know, in school? After the run, I was back at home. Why is our neighbor/landlord/friend who works in Boston still home? Shouldn't she be at, yaknow, work? Then I went to the woods to go for a hike. I drove past a pair of teenagers sitting in the front yard of a house, playing guitar. Oh, right. What better way to celebrate Patriot's Day. Every state has holidays, real or pseudo, and this is our big one. State offices are closed today in Massachusetts and Maine, the only two states where it's an official holiday. In Massachusetts, the day is known as Patriots' Day, but this blog is Good Morning from Maine, not Good Morning from Taxachusetts, so we go with the official, correct grammar of Patriot

Any guess as to what my favorite color is? That device just behind the shoes is an anti-barking device that works wonders. Buy some right now. Either one. This blog is dedicated to my favorite mommy blog, Ms. Sensible of Shoe . They are not anything special. They are Asics' Gel-Bravado size 10 running shoes, brilliant blue/lightning/black in color. They were made in Vietnam. They cost $47, taxes included, at Kohl's. I once swore to only buy New Balance running shoes because they last the longest. They also cost a little more. But cost wasn't really a factor in this purchase. These shoes were just so ... blue. I had to have them. And it was that purchase this morning that marks my mental return to adulthood. I left adulthood a little over two years ago. TW was going back to graduate school. We both gave up our jobs and moved across the country to live in Maine. I still think that was mostly a good call. But we knew finances would be tight. In part because I am a colossal che