Another reason why I haven't posted

Yes, fanbase, it has been a very long time since I have posted to this blog, and I have a good reason for my reticence: I am boring.

When I started this blog, I had no intention of posting about my everyday life, because my everyday life is dull. You don’t care about the trials and tribulations of my job, or about my decision to leave grad school. You have better things to do with your time than read about my uneventful life. So I figured I would try to write things that are least mildly entertaining, and if I don’t have something mildly entertaining to write, I don’t write. And, unfortunately, there has been a dearth of mildly entertaining things to write for the past couple of months. Because, remember, I am boring.

Take my weekend, for example. The highlight was watching March of the Penguins on DVD. I picked a rather bad time to watch it, because I think I’m hormonal. How else to explain the several times I murmured “Poor little penguins” and the few tears I actually wiped away? Like when the seals attacked the female penguins after the pitiable things had laid their eggs and walked all the way back to the ocean so they could get some much needed food. I was rooting for the penguins, but had a passing thought about how if I were watching a documentary about seals, I’d be rooting for the seals since they’re probably starving, too. Then I tossed that thought aside because I was watching a documentary on the penguins that showed graphic pictures of bloody-jawed seals with sharp looking teeth, so instead I said “Poor little penguin” [warning: spoiler ahead, if one can spoil a documentary] when the last tried to make it back on the ice but was cruelly killed by the murderous seal. And yes, I think I wiped away a tear at that point, too.

Then [warning: another spoiler] when the little penguin chicks were attacked by that nasty bird that ate one of them, I nearly yelled at the stupid mother penguins (the fathers had departed back to the ocean for food) who just stood there and let some of their sisters’ baby chicks be attacked and eaten by this ugly, horrible bird that looked like a cross between a seagull and vulture. But at least a vulture would have waited till the penguins were dead. Anyway, after my anger at the mother penguins died down, I became angry at the stupid documentarians. How could they just stand there and let those cute little penguin chicks be killed by this awful bird hardly any largely than a Central Park pigeon? Sure, fine, they’re not supposed to interfere with nature and all that, but these are BABY chicks, and they’re CUTE, and they SHOULD NOT DIE. If I’d been there, you can bet I’d have been running across the ice, brandishing the camera (I don’t care how expensive it is) and yelling at that bird to leave the chicks the [bleep] alone, you [bleeping bleep] nasty [bleep] of a [bleep].

As I said, I’m hormonal.

And that, perhaps, explains why, after I’d gotten ready for bed and was all curled up nice and warm under my electric blanket, I looked at my TiVo’s Now Playing list and saw that it had recorded Weddings from the Knot or something else that managed to stick both wedding and knot in the title. But the title doesn’t matter, because it’s just one of those half-hour shows where a couple talks about their special day. This episode featured Cheryl and Fred from Hawaii. Early on in the show, Cheryl looked at Fred with shiny eyes and said, “I wish everyone could have a Fred.” And so I teared up again. I want a Fred! I thought. Only I want him to have a better name than Fred! Then at the wedding itself, Fred’s eleven-year-old son, who was the best man, gave the toast and talked about how much he loved his dad and his new mom, Cheryl, and I had to reach for the Kleenex once more.

I’m telling you, fanbase, Hormonal with a capital H. I hang my head in shame.

See, what I need to do when I’m hormonal is watch the crappy stuff my TiVo records for me because some sorry chip in that silver box thinks I’d like it. I should have gone for Dracula 3000: Infinite Darkness starring Casper Van Dien. At the least, Casper’s pretty cute, and a plot involving vampires on a space station is begging to be mocked. Though admittedly I might have just ended up thinking I want a Casper! Only I want him to have a better name than Casper! because I was, after all, hormonal.

See, fanbase? This is why I don’t write every week. Count yourselves blessed.