When the clerk at Target tells me that while they don’t have what I’m looking for in store, they sell it and many more things online at target.com, I hear “Go get it from Amazon.”
Hundreds of times a year, civilians accuse military personnel of sexual assault. The cases can wind up in the military justice system, where many victims say they are at a big disadvantage.
This story is incredible for more than a few reasons: that 16 is the absolute age of consent in the UCMJ, the lack of assistance to civilian victims, victim therapists being compelled to explain their confidential notes.
Olivia’s 2nd grade class has a prayer “graffiti” wall where they can write names of those they want to pray for. Many are parents and such.
Olivia wrote my dad’s name. Her grandfather who died 12 years before she was born.
I don’t feel like I bring him up that often, but she gets that it was and is a big deal that he died long before anyone was ready or expecting him. She gets that it is a hole in my—and her—life to not have him here
Sometimes, you drink coffee after dinner just to make it through the evening housework. Sometimes, you drink coffee after dinner just to make it through the evening housework and you end up wide awake past 1 am.
4:45 am, here I come.
39 and 8.
Tonight, I sat down at the computer ready to publish a post that I started a week ago. “Hmm”, I thought to myself, “this topic isn’t as topical as it was. I’ve read this point since I thought it was an original idea.” Move to trash.
I started going draft-by-draft seeing if there was something started that I could tweak and publish. First, I realized I had 39 drafts in limbo between the private and public realm. Some were Press This posts to news articles long outdated. Some were very rough notes on an idea. Some were pretty fleshed out posts whose time as passed. Lastly, there were a couple that might be good to finish.
The oldest draft was eight years old. Eight!
My voice has mellowed over the years. I’ve had a personal website for 20 years, a blog for the last 14 years. If you look back over the years, this site was a journal—sharing that I registered for classes on a particular day or mentioning my opinions on hot button political issues of the day ( 😱 I know!). Over time, this site has become more of my “press office”, announcing every major career move, major family event, new plugin or WordPress feature. My post when we found our we were having twins ushered in the most views in a single day ever by a factor of three and just a tad more than my post about the third time I registered for classes in Fall 2004 😉.1
I’ve pondered to myself what is the point of this site? A public soapbox of personal rantings without any clear theme, except stuff I that find notable? The headquarters of my personal platform connecting an audience to my thoughts and opinions on a definite subject (that eventually will convert them to buy my book, join a membership to access my amazing self-help guides, or whatever else)? A static information hub for those needing help install Genesis eNews Extended or fiddle with Jetpack or other technobabble to help prove my position as a thought leader in the WordPress space?2
As Automattic, or more properly, Knock Knock WHOIS There, LLC, moves forward with launching .blog with the founders—like John Maeda’s design.blog or Matt moving his photoblog to matt.blog—I’ve paused to go deeper into thought to re-examine the 2016 definition of a personal blog.
I don’t have an answer yet that I’m satisfied with, but when I do, I’ll be sure to post it here.
- Back then, I liked the style of all lower caps for titles and didn’t know how to programmatically make that happen. Can you imagine my wonder when I figured out CSS! ↩
- I’m not saying I actually am a thought leader in the WordPress space. I just try to make the web a better place by a little bit every day. If anyone else pays attention, cool. ↩
The entrance into Zootopia is a riff of the Hunger Games train through the districts.
Then, the animals start going savage creating the Game within the city.
All with someone whose identity is centered around white—President Snow and his white rose or Assistant Mayor Bellwether with her fleece as white as snow.