I've had several friends request that I make commenting on my blog easier. I've opened up the comments so that anyone can reply, but in an effort to prevent spam, have set up comments to be moderated before they are posted. That means that I will ultimately approve comments before they appear. I will post all comments (positive or negative) as long as they come from a "real" person. Though I reserve the right to censor comments that are abusive or bullying in nature.
In other news, it is snowing. Again. We have approximately 4,367,002,719 inches of snow on the ground, so what's 3-5" more? At this rate, I plan on sledding to celebrate the 4th of July. Last year on this date it was 80 degrees. Mother Nature is being a jerk. Part of the reason I'm hating the snow is that big changes in barometric pressure make the arthritis in my hands, feet and spine flare and hurt like a son-of-a-bee-otch.
Because my arthritis pain is driving me crazy, I'll be hyped up on Vicodin today. I would like to personally thank whoever invented/discovered this drug. Not only does it take away my pain, it makes grading fun. Ok, not fun. Who am I kidding - it helps me come up with reasons to procrastinate with grading. I! Love! Vicodin!
I realize that previous paragraph makes me sound like a drug addict. My response? I. Wish.
I'm realizing Vicodin makes writing blog posts fun. I'm guessing it will also make reading blog comments fun. So go ahead, comment.
Actually, I need some advice. Joe and I are "friends" on Facebook. Is it weird/bitchy/acceptable/passive-aggressive to want to "unfriend" him once we are done? Seriously, I don't know what is acceptable.
OK, random funny story - then I'm done. . . When I took Joe on a driving tour of EC yesterday, I had to deal with the horrible pot-holes that are born every spring. I hit a particularly bad one that and exclaimed "Mother Fucker!" Anyone who knows me, knows I swear like a sailor. But it's the first I've sworn around Joe. (Just another sign that I'm not letting myself be "me" around him.) There was awkward silence following my outburst, so I added "Sorry about that. I thought I broke my tire on that pothole." More awkward silence as I glanced at the clock and figured how long it was until Joe would go home. Maybe if I swear a lot during my "break-up speech" Joe will be relieved we are done?