Still Dead

My dad died of a heart attack in February. He was 56.

After four months of crying, going through his things, preparing to sell his house, and trying to comprehend a world without him, I am amazed at the continuing presence of his absence. Somehow I just can't make myself know that he's gone. Every day I catch myself thinking, "Really? Still?"

Yeah. Still.

Laggard

I vividly remember the first time I heard about a blog. Two of our friends had recently gotten a divorce at a young age, and the husband had started a blog to process his feelings. All of his anger and torment were there on the page, available to any curious gawker who wanted to see into his soul. My friends and I were horrified. "Who would ever want to make a journal public? And who would want to read it?" Apparently the answer to both questions is: everyone.

Never one to jump on a bandwagon, I've given the rest of you ten or fifteen years to work out the kinks. You've done a great job of making the medium funny, personal, interactive, and easy. You've documented your likes and your lives. You even figured out how to upload pictures!

Although I am hopelessly behind the curve, I am pretty sure this will be the blog that changes the face of the internet.