identity / Milestones

The Death of a Blog

sahmurai-peace-out-w-frame

I suspect that either you’ve been puzzling over the fact that, following seven months of dogged semi-weekly updates, I haven’t posted a thing since early August — or I’m currently reminding you of this blog’s and/or my existence.

Hi there!

It’s not that nothing’s happened, or that I’ve had no Very Important Thoughts to share. Based on the content of SAHMurai’s draft box, here’s some blog-worthy news I’ve withheld these several weeks:

  • My children did not wear shoes all summer long — not anywhere, not ONCE. They survived. Also Belgian retailers are surprisingly tolerant of barefoot preschoolers.
  • Both of them got EYEGLASSES! It’s impossibly adorable. And it’s especially wonderful news because did you know that imbalanced vision impairment can sometimes cause sudden-onset double vision in a 4-year-old? For the love of God, DON’T GOOGLE WHAT ELSE CAN. (Let’s just say that in lieu of a prescription for corrective lenses, I was prepared to occupy the ER carrying signs and chanting demands for an MRI).
  • Apparently some or all of the pro-Hitler moms who bloggily assaulted me in July also literally believe the Earth is flat.
  • Aside from my friends and friendlies, Reasons I’m Going To Miss Being an Ex-pat include but are not limited to:
    • Folks here expect much less of me because I’m foreign.
    • Folks at home project a vague European mystique over even the tedious drudgery of my stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) life (or so I like to think).
    • I can buy fresh mozzarella for under 50 cents here! The wet kind! And that’s just the tip of the cheeseberg. Gouda, people. Gouda.

So where have I been? Why leave such jewels to tarnish in my draft box?

I’d love to report that my family and I have been off gallivanting on some lesser known Grecian isle of dramatic geography, bucolic charm, and of course, excellent local cheese. Or at least that we’ve taken so much as a day trip to the seaside. But between our closing down one life and gearing up for the next — back in lovely and electorally valuable Ohio — I have made time for little apart from fear, trembling, and moving house (decidedly not mankind’s best portion).

I will admit that, because I can get slightly obsessive about projects, it’s comforting to note that our terrestrial sphere continues its obliquitous little spin even when I suspend my entirely arbitrary, yet so seemingly important personal goals.

The other reason I’ve been MIA is that I’ve been loathe to announce that I must soon relinquish the mantle of SAHMurai (please hold the seppuku/harakiri jokes).

Which is to say: Hey, Full-time Home-staying Parent Life, I QUIT! But don’t worry, I’m not gonna do what you all think I’m going to do and just flip out! Because seriously, I am more than ready to have someone else employ my time and help me establish less arbitrary goals in the service of some cooperative grown-up enterprise. #writereditorforhire

So, with luck, my SAHMurai days are numbered. I’m still determining whether to retire, or rename and re-personify this blog. But I’m superstitious, so I won’t do either, but instead probably just go all quiet again until I’ve locked down gainful employment. Because the gods frown upon human presumption. And besides, if the latter, my blog persona first needs to fasten itself to a leaf or twig and dispel its SAHMurai skin, leaving behind a hard pupal case in which to metamorphose.

Finally, before announcing whether to bury or reanimate this blog, I shall first link to at least one final original essay, set to appear later this week in one of the scrappiest, most subversive momma publications I’ve found on the web. So STAY TUNED for now!

 

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4 thoughts on “The Death of a Blog

  1. Oh the mozzarella!!! I’m glad I’m not the only one so excited by the cheap cheese here. Sometimes I just buy balls of mozz for no reason other than the fact that it’s 49 cents.

  2. Sometimes-lurker, speaking up to say:  So sorry to see you going.  Trust me, you will miss the cheeses.  Though I myself would miss more the chocolate; any chance you can e-distribute some as a parting bit to your readers, via some Web 2.0 magic?

    Yes, I expect that Googling for symptoms has caused more heart attacks than cures.  Though I myself don’t exactly trust doctors; indeed, I insist on being one of those informed, self-directed patients whom doctors hate.  If I had a panic situation involving kids of my own, I might consider asking a trusted friend to do the Internet medical research for me.  Somebody close enough to care, but with at least a modicum of emotional distance.

    …wow.  And here I thought Hitler’s guys were fearsome Aryan Supermen, who had Aryan racial super-geniuses like Wernher von Braun.  Things have really gone downhill.  Well, I guess London can sleep soundly; call me a skeptic, but I just don’t see those Flat Earth Neo-Nazis building many rockets (at least not ones that go anywhere).  Too bad, I also hear that Volkswagens are just not made like they used to be.

    So anyway, hie thee back to Ohio; maybe your vote will stop Trump from nuking Belgium, or whatever that snake-charmer has up his sleeve.  More likely a spin of one of his casinos’ roulette wheels, to choose which Arab country to bomb into the Stone Age first.  Why don’t millions of idiots get that he’s a salesman, who is telling them what they want to hear so that he can go do whatever he really plans?  Perhaps because he is a very effective salesman, and they are idiots.

    Meanwhile, as you prepare to cross an ocean to cast your ballot into the moron sea, good luck with the quest to perform less freebie writing and editing.  I myself might be now competing with you for word-working positions, but for such matters as my militant anticopyright stance; overall, I am wont to be quite popular with publishers as an SS rocket scientist at a convention of Flat Earth Neo-Nazis.  Oh, what a world it is—though at least it’s still round, last I checked.  And thanks for the sardonic grin!

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