I carved a pumpkin (it's already rotting)!
Co-adopted a dog/goblin/bat (henceforth, "Dogoblat" [or Ping])!
Roadtripped to $TEXAS (paid fifty-four dollars to rent a car for four days, drive it ninety miles per hour, and put seventeen-hundred miles on it. I almost feel bad)!
And lost more soccer games.
Yes, lost more. It's been tough. I've been practicing a lot and I can see improvement in my own stamina and game, but only just now I've realized that most of the teams we are competing against have played together in this league for a while now. Whereas my team came into this season largely unfamiliar with one another and at least half had no indoor experience (including myself).
It's been a pretty steep game of catch-up. Last Tuesday was by far the best we've done, and it very nearly paid off. I think the final result was 3-7, which while seemingly bad is, in fact, our closest finish and the way we were developing our attack and getting back on defense actually looked like we were a team.
Which is exciting to me. If you don't know, I don't discourage easily. Whether that is for a lack of connection to the looming onslaught of reality or because of everlasting springs of divine joy remains to be determined.
And now! A confession. A dark revelation of shame.
This is not the first blog I've ever written. There are OTHER blogs. Older blogs.
Some of them very, very old.
And their collective content is- well, how to put this delicately; steaming animal compost. Emphasis on the present-tenseness of this steam. No amount of time would be adequate for the horribleness to cease being freshly rank.
Yes, dear reader. More so than what you now feast your eyes (but starve your brain) on- if you can believe it.
I occasionally have fits of anxiety that one day I'll do something important, become famous, and all these old blogs will be discovered the social-media-adepts; who would find a nearly infinite resource of utterly humiliating material to by processed through buzzfeed and the Huffington Post.
Imagine my joy, then, to discover just now that xanga has officially archived all its old content. It's inaccessible except by upgrading the account!
Such joy that is mine! All of my splendid political ambitions are free to flourish!
*prance*
It's an odd combination of comforting and dissatisfying when I google my own name. Nothing about me ever comes up, which is comforting as I haven't done anything that I would wish to have public attention directed toward, but dissatisfying because surely I've done something more noteworthy than yet another dead-end blog by TieFighterGuy85 blabbering about their brochacho named Ethan who "may do this" or "may do that."
As a side note, having a permissional last name is a great way to fade in the search engine noise. Apparently there are a lot of articles about what Ethan Hawke may or may not do. So much speculation around one man!
There remains only one website to throw my political ascendance athwart and I have NO idea how to get rid of it. Gratefully, even with knowing certain precise word combinations to put into the search engine, it is nigh impossible to stumble upon- even with Google's almighty power.
Eventually I will find a seedy hacker, or a really awesome one like Lizbeth Salander and pay them to "nuke it." But with 1s and 0s. Technologically.
Are you still reading this?
Indefatigable. Let's go.
I not only have a permissionable last name, but also a first name that is a university title. So my Google results show up as the dean may do this or that.
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