Sophomore album

Hello, again! I haven't had much to share for the past few months. Once the drama and comedy of everything during the winter and spring died down, it seemed like writing entries about TV, film, politics, food, and the essential shittiness of putting a life back together would be boring and almost inappropriate. Well, pssshhh!! I'm getting back on the horse. One Miss Molly Danner told me about a technique she'd learned in a leadership clinic that is referred to as "100 days". The basic guidelines are that one identifies some specific change he or she would like to affect in his or her life, and then commits to a daily practice of this change for 100 days. For instance, switching to vegetarianism, or doing 100 crunches each day, or writing a blog; all of these things can seem fairly daunting if approached from an absolute stance. Committing to something for 100 days is a piece of piss. (Thank you, Nick Hornby and BBC.)

SERENDIPITY ALERT: I am at a Panera right now using free wi-fi, and a song called "Sober" just started playing on my favorite web-based radio service. The refrain is "3 months and I'm still sober"-- 3 months...like 100 days. (Everyone should hear the bridge to that song. Say what you will about female pop stars, but Kelly Clarkson has pipes for days.) And now it's being followed by Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'". Oh, that crazy Higher Power and her wacky sense of humor.

Anyway, things have been tough lately. I am trying to get things rolling again, trying to get my swagger back, and I have a figurative flat tire and my figurative road map has a massive Diet Coke stain on it, rendering it unreadable at the moment. So, I'm taking to the page. The direction of this blog may change direction a bit...it may turn a bit more "macro", running counter to the largely "micro" theme of past entries. We'll see. For the time being, I will just get some things off my chest, and then let things happen organically. (A friend of a friend was dating this girl, and he was asked how they met. He replied, "We met at a bar, and it just got out of hand." I will try to let my blog get out of hand.) And I'm hereby committing myself to 100 days of bloggage. There will be days when I have nothing to say, but maybe I'll write some killer haiku. 100 days. Game on. So, let's get down to it.

Since I last wrote, a beloved member of Team Dana passed away. Earlier entries I've made mention Katie's grandma, Dorie. We bade farewell to her on August 21st and it completely sucks. I've mentioned how grateful I am to have extra family members, and Dorie was an extra grandma to me for a good portion of my life. (She had several extra grandkids, and we were all really lucky to have her.) I sat on a couch at her wake next to her grandchildren, and I couldn't help thinking of all of the obstacles we've faced, and how Dorie did what she could to make those obstacles a little easier to tackle. Thinking of what's to come, it's almost cruel that we can't look forward to any more of Dorie's special doses of sweetness. On the other hand, all of us had the massive fortune to know her, and see the unique impact she had on everything. She set a good example. I am very proud of Katie, Melissa, and Sally-- they gave Dorie a fitting tribute. I spent a few hours with Dorie before she went in for surgery, and every word she said was colored by her massive love for her family and friends. I will really miss Dorie-- her huge heart, her hilarious Dorie-isms, and her general warmth.

What else has gone on? I was offered what I guess one could consider a "big-kid job", and I ended up turning it down. While I have no qualms with hard work, I can't pretend that I can work 70-hour weeks yet. I can't work 12-hour days. I am doing what I can to get back there, but I'm not there yet. That's the practical, nutsy-boltsy explanation. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't write the following: I'll be damned if this past year was supposed to lead me to a job like the one I was offered. I understand that some jobs are just a means to an end, and that a 27-year-old in this day in age should just shut up and take whatever comes. Pull out the list of ways that I disappoint my parents and chalk up another one. I'm hardly waiting for a starring role in a Broadway play or an offer to teach Pop Culture Appreciation in some idyllic, island locale. I am waiting for something that doesn't demand compromising my ethics. ANYWAY.

I am sure that there are little things I can report, but those are the major ones coming to mind right now. And I will explain tomorrow why I gave this entry the title I did. It involves me calling bullshit on the record industry and praising it at the same time. (Edge of your seat, right!?)

RIP Dorie-- you are sorely missed.