Update

I’ve been urged to write again just after I admitted this afternoon a complete lack of desire to do so. I’ve been busy making out with my books and Xeroxed copies of journal articles all summer and it has been hot HOT. And I haven’t had the time to write about whether or not I have heartburn even though I realize omitting such stories robs my dear readers of what is clearly a fascinating tale.

I have been completely uncreative and useless lately – all I’ve been doing is feverishly scribbling notes in the margins of Neil Postman books, kicking back (alone) with a single beer and watching netflixes, which I promise I will turn off halfway through so I can get back to studying, but inevitably I end up watch all of them and then feel guilty for neglecting poor Neil.

Matt is in Ireland now. At least I assume he’s made it there – he and his family ended up getting stranded in NY for about 25 hours before finally departing for the Emerald Isle (not to be confused with the Emerald Isle they usually head to). He missed the union of two of our very favorite people for this trip but ended up spending the time he could spent dancing to the "sickest, funkiest tracks" on a tarmac in D.C. When I talked to him at the Ramada refugee camp he deeply regretted not shelling out the 2K to bring me along. Oh but then I would miss out on all the glamorous single-Yuengling drinking in the dark and in my underwear, alone.

The wedding, by the way, was amazing. I get annoyed by people who bawl at weddings but I found myself getting a bit choked up and then giggling a lot. Ingrid and Jon are fantastic friends, a wonderful couple, and people for whom procreation should be mandated. We need more of them in the world.


Just look at how awesome they are.