2nd Blogiversary

Grab a party hat, get a piece of cake on your way in, pin a tail on a jackass (me, if you like). Two years ago today, I started this enterprise. The first year was on the late and unlamented Yahoo 360, where I was very comfortable and nearly invisible. Any given blog was read by maybe 20 people, with 2 or 3 comments from regulars. As 360 was in its death throes, Lori paid me a huge compliment by encouraging me to move my blog to T-Central.

After the move, I was out of my comfort zone. I was concerned that I was more T-Peripheral than T-Central. It seemed that everyone here was all about transition, something that didn't appear to be in my future. Lori sent me over to Calie's blog, and I made my first new friend. I learned to fight my shy nature, and reach out to bloggers that I admired or felt a commonality with. Much comradery ensued.

I started writing at the height of my dysphoria and depth of my depression. I was not in a good way then, and some posts were rather intense. I think the cliche is true: Pain produces the best art. At least that's how it worked for me. Yes, I am dropping false modesty here. I am proud of 90% of the material in my blog. It isn't great art by any means, but it's the best I've ever done by a wide stretch.

I thought this would be a good opportunity to look back at some of my favorite posts. I know there are some of you who have waded through the entirety of this blog, and, well, bless your hearts. You have a pass to the back room, with soft incandescent lighting and an open bar. The rest of you are invited to partake of the best of OoMM.

My favorite piece is a letter that I wrote to my wife but never delivered, featured in Whose Day Is It Anyway? Then there was the time that I underestimated her, revealing that I had a blog, and arrogantly thinking she wouldn't find it. That fall from grace is in Worlds Collide.

I like to think that I'm funny, and a few entries have even reflected that. The Motherlode, and my very first post, If you're too hirsute, you can't wear her suit, are prime examples. My best effort at early history is in Languid and Bittersweet.

I'm proud of the bulk of the writing here, and would recommend more but for pitying the poor tired reader. Frankly, after more than 200 entries, I don't readily remember some of it. I never for a minute thought I had this in me. I detested writing in school, and did my best to avoid it after. Then it forced its way out of my mind.

Thank you all for your interest and friendship and support.