Back to Bloggin' & Ain't it Grand?

I began blogging in my early twenties as method for catharsis—to purge myself of the accumulated angst of a prolonged adolescence. Of course, my end goal was to parlay my ample rivers of twenty-something self doubt and part-time alcoholism into a tell-all book or a sex scandal involving one of the Channings—Carol or Stockard, I didn’t care which. “Channing Gets Cheeky with Gentle Ginger,” I imagined the headline would curtly read while every shameful detail lay scrawled across page-eight of The Baltimore Examiner. But when neither fame nor shame came rapping unremorsefully at my door, and my lingering adolescence began to bloom into diffident maturity, I unintentionally parted with my dreams of attaining the sort of notoriety enjoyed only by the likes of local newscasters and purse snatchers beaten within an inch of their lives by elderly women armed only with their AARP cards.

And so, I am back blogging—not with the hopes of achieving mediocre celebrity, but because in my thirty-something wisdom and yuppie sensibility, I, like Gwyneth Paltrow, have so much condescension to offer that I simply must heave it out into the blogosphere like a sanctimonious Mount Vesuvius dusting your private Pompeii with molten bits of priceless guidance. Trust me, cherished reader; you’ll be better for it.

In these upcoming annals, you’ll find things that interest me, and should therefore interest you, like stories about me. Additionally, you find recipes I like, and books I think you should read. Consider me your white Oprah with a thinly veiled gay lisp. Perhaps I’ll even provide tips on childrearing. Since I don’t have children of my own, I am at a prime vantage point to ridicule how you raise yours.

So check back weekly, or more often. After all, we have the same goal: ensuring my success.

CJM