My friend Sloan is a great writer. But if you are reading me, then you’ve probably already read him, so it’s likely that you know this. I was just reading his latest post, and the bit about his first marriage resonated with me. Hard. My ears are still ringing. I emerged from my own personal early “marriage” in a similar fashion, slimmer and healthier than I had been, and extremely bewildered, trying to figure out what had just happened. Not to mention, what had been happening for the previous 10 years of my life. Skipping your twenties by marrying early is a strange way to go. I don’t necessarily recommend it, but I don’t necessarily recommend against it either. Obviously, I still haven’t reconciled all of my feelings about that particular life path.

I remember going to my best friend’s wedding two summers ago and experiencing a certain amount of smugness that I didn’t quite enjoy, as it was a result of the fact that I’d already been through my first long-term relationship, so ostensibly I knew what he was in for. Which was wrong, of course. Every relationship is different. But the smugness was still there, lingering on like stale cigarette smoke on a wool jacket. I’d had a similar experience just a week before during his bachelor’s party. It was the time of night when we are all supposed to take turns giving him advice on how to make his marriage last. I realized that I had nothing good to tell him, which made me very sad, and frustrated, because I really wanted to be encouraging and supportive. I’m glad that my cynicism about these things has long since subsided, especially since I am now well into the early stages of my next “big thing”, hoping very much that I’ve learned something from the last one. I’m excited for the future, and feel very lucky that I’ve been able to connect with this wonderful woman with whom I’m hoping to share it.

Sometimes camera phones can be useful. This was seen on the corner of Hawthorne and 9th-ish, walking back to my office from the liquor store with a fresh pack of smokes. It matched my mood at the time fairly well, although nothing in my life was particularly broken just then. The sentiment still resonated somehow. A couple days later, I walked past again with actual camera in hand, to try to get a better picture, but it had already been painted over.

Erg. I hate to have to work but I love to have work. Vicious cycle. Feast or famine. Insert stupid work-related cliché here. Yes. I’ve been busy. I have no time for this whole “creativity” thing. Or I make no time for it. Can’t figure out which. Either way, it’s a lame excuse. But remember when I used to write stuff and post it here? No? Oh, you should have been there. It was great. There were all kinds of words and sentences (paragraphs even!), sometimes a picture or two, the amusing link now and then. Fantastic stuff. Or at least I liked it. Whatever.

Anyway, I do have a chunk of words about my last Nicaragua trip ready to post, but unfortunately I have nothing more. I was hoping to get a few chunks ready before posting the first. But that hasn’t happened yet. Refer to lame excuses above. This is all made worse by the fact that really, my memory is not so good, so the longer I wait to write it down, the more it fades. I fear that by the time I finally sit down to write more, all I will end up with is “LAST DECEMBER I WENT TO NICARAGUA WITH MY MOMMY AND DADDY AND BROTHER FOR CHRISTMAS IT WAS FUN THERE WERE BEACHES AND TURTLES IT WAS AWESOME OK I LOVE YOU BYE.”

If that happens I’ll just refer you back to this post. In the meantime, you can look at this amusing flash movie:

the end

OK I LOVE YOU BYE

I should clarify. Contrary to the advertising on the packaging, the Salted Nut Roll wasn’t, actually, very fun. Tasty, sure. But not fun.

However, my latest trip to Nicaragua to see my brother was a blast. But unfortunately, the part of my brain that likes to write things about these trips is, well, apparently broken. I made a valiant (in my mind, at least) effort to try and kickstart it with healthy doses of alcohol and Christopher Moore, but unfortunately that only served to exhaust me, what with all the giggling and stumbling about. Also, my parents were there with me, so that put at least some limit on the amount of shenanigans that usually take place on these trips, and which are typically rife with material.

Anyway. Enough with the excuses. I will try to put together some little stories from the trip, using my amazing powers of memory and/or imagination. Most likely I’ll just make some shit up. Either that or I’ll just post a bunch of photos from the trip. There are a lot of those. Here are a few to get you started.