# 2

Ok, you have to be careful when you says things like #2 when you have young children, provided that’s the name you’ve given the associated bodily function, assuming you even know what I’m talking about here. You also have to be careful using #2 when you have twins, especially when the twins have long since figured out which number they are as it relates to who was born first or second. # 2 is also the car fielded by Kurt Busch in NASCAR’s Cup Series and Clint Bowyer in the Nationwide Series and Jack Sprague in the Craftsman Truck Series, but more importantly, it’s the number made famous by Rusty Wallace, even though Dale Earnhardt drove a number 2 for a few years. But all of the twosyness aside, this # 2 is about something entirely different.

Saturday June 28th marks the second blogaversary of this very collection of tomes about cheese, twins, being the office idiot and occasional references to Englebert Humperdink, for no reason other than his name is fun to say and ‘After the Loving’ has to be one of the coolest schmaltzy love songs ever. Yep, the Wonderful World of Nothing is turning 2. It’s been a good ride lo these last 610 or so posts. I’ve met great new people through this blog, well not that they are new, they’ve all been people for quite some time (and no, I am not saying any of you are old), it’s just that they are new to me. It’s as if I’ve got a whole group of new friends even though we’ve never met. And whenever I write about Clay Aiken, it seems I make a whole new group of enemies I’ve never met, but that’s a discussion for another time, because I don’t write about him very often. I do however write about Barry Manilow, but that’s because his music is kickawesome and Copacabana should be taught in elementary school. It really sums up life- the pleasures of youth, dealing with unfortunate events and becoming a washed up dancer in a disco, or something like that. I think she also drank herself blind and I know she lost her youth and she lost her Tony. It’s also a terrific ‘whodunit’ as they try to figure out who shot who. Plus it has a nice beat and if life has a nice beat, then you just gotta dance.

I started this blog because I have long searched for an outlet where I could be me, as it isn’t always appreciated or welcomed in the office. I had originally planned to start something like blogging a year before I did while recovering from my open heart surgery to replace my aortic valve with one from a catfish. Just seeing if you’re paying attention. However, recovering from open heart surgery isn’t as fun as they make it seem on TV, so I never got the chance to start writing and then was back to work before I knew it. I felt disappointed in myself for not beginning the writing I wanted to do, so about a year later to mark the first anniversary of my chicken heart valve (again, just making sure you are still with me here), I took to blogging. So, I will mark my two years of blogging Saturday and my 3 year anniversary of getting my donkey heart valve (yep, still checking on you) on Monday.

I find myself getting pretty hindsightful (sorry, it’s just so easy to make up words when you can’t find something better to say) each June 30th as I remember my surgery for some reason. The hindsightfulness finds me wondering about past experiences I have known. For instance, I’m pretty sure I had a Ponch action figure and his CHP motorcycle from ‘CHiPs,’ but do not remember what I did with it. I also think back to that time I lathered a bowl of ice cream with an expired can of Redi-Whip even though I knew that it was expired. ‘Seriously, what could go wrong, it’s not that old’ were my famous last words that unfortunate evening. More importantly, my wistfulness also extends to thinking about this blog.

I’ve had a lot of fun with it. I have enjoyed coming up with crappy Aprils Fool’s jokes the last two years and trying to complete memes without tagging anyone who might get angry with me. I’ve enjoyed leaving comments on everyone else’s blogs and reading everyone’s experiences and takes on life. It’s like I’ve lived vicariously through so many of you. It also makes me think I need to get out a little more, but that’s not a knock on anyone who reads this blog; it’s a knock on my Prime Grade A level of boredness. I don’t think boredness is a word, but it makes saying I’m boring sound so much less depressing.

I also remember with fondness that time I got to meet the HR folks for a little ‘get together’ about my blogging at work about work. It was a pleasant meeting with lots of professionalism, except that one part where I asked them if they at least liked what they had read, which by the way now tops my list of things NOT to say to my HR representatives. Also on that list are: ‘I really don’t like working for 8 straight hours because I am prone to chronic boredom and avoid it when I can’ and ‘if I didn’t attend the sexual harassment class, does that mean I can still get away with stuff because I haven’t been properly trained yet?’ For the record, ‘no one said I actually had to return to the office after yesterday’s fire drill, is that a new policy’ is also on the list.

All in all, it’s been a great ride and I wish I had started this endeavor a year earlier. But then again, if I had started it a year earlier it’s one more year of momentous occasions for Lucy and Ethel and work deadlines that I may have missed because I was too busy trying to de-screw up the HTML on my blog or trying to combine words to make one word (the true measure of laziness, by the way) or coming up with bad book or TV ideas or extolling the virtues of a cheese laden life. So, thanks to everyone who comes by here each day. It really means a lot, unless you only came here once and then didn’t come back. That’s a major dose of rejection right there. Seriously though, thank you!!