MeSoFun Blog

Last night was TW's hooding ceremony in honor of her college graduation. For some reason, I was given a chance to speak on behalf of spouses and families. WIthout further introduction, here is what I told the PA Class of 2012. Me: Thank you very much, Chastity, it's an honor to speak here. Her: Charity. My name's Charity. Me: Right. Right. Charity. Not Chastity. Got it. For those of you that don't get that reference, most of the PAs here tonight can explain the joke. But the truth is, I am in fact terrible at remembering names.  I come by that honestly, thanks to my Mother, who's here tonight … uh … uh … it's on the tip of my tongue. Mom: Jackie. My name's Jackie. Me: There we go. I should probably know that. But I am terrible with names and terrible with introductions. It occurs to me that I should introduce *myself*, since I only know about 20 people here tonight. I am the only person who has been on stage or will be on stage with only a bachelor's deg...

I only had one beer at Fenway. No, seriously. Obviously, this will not be the last time that I write about Boston. But I feel like you, loyal blog reader, deserve a thorough breakdown of what's been going on the past few months. I've been vague. You probably haven't cared all that much. You probably won't care all that much in the future. In fact, my Mom might be the only person who reads this post. My parents are nothing if not loyal. Here is what I would like you to know about our impending move to Boston: This was not my idea, but it sort of was. There I go, being vague again. Two years ago, TW chastised me when I raised the possibility that we might end up in Boston. That was too much to consider at the time. She didn't even know if she liked Boston. We were moving to Portland for her to go to PA school and because we love New England. I was already doing the math two years ago: There aren't that many jobs in Maine and there are a lot of medical jobs in Bost...

I knew people in college who acted like Belushi's college student. They are now engineers. God help our infrastructure. My cousins and I are unusually tight. Part of the reason for that is I was a live-in nanny and babysitter for them when they were toddlers. Now, when they need some guidance, they give me a call. I'm honored and shocked that they would want to talk to a 34-year-old about anything. But they do. The one common theme among these teenage crises is college. Three of my five cousins are of college age (I don't know how that happened). All three cousins have called me for advice. All three have cried about going to college. It kills me because I can relate to all three of them. The details have been different for each of them, but it boils down to this: People lie to you about college. They don't mean to do it. They just say things that you hear over and over again. And that's why our phone calls spend a great deal of time debunking popular college theori...

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 ...