Yes.

Louis C.K., "Hilarious", 2010:

No. Cut the shit. Don't even start with that noise like a puppy died. Let me tell you something. And this is important, because some day one of your friends is gonna get divorced. It's gonna happen. And they're gonna tell you. Don't go, "Oh, I'm sorry!" That's a stupid thing to say. It really is.

First of all, you're making them feel bad for being really happy, which isn't fair. And second, let me explain something to you: Divorce is always good news. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. Because no good marriage has ever ended in divorce. It's really that simple. That's never happened — that would be sad. If two people were married, and they were really happy, and they just had a great thing, and then they got divorced, that would be really sad. But that has happened zero times. Literally zero. Ray Charles has killed more Jews than happy marriages have ended in divorce.

So if your friend got divorced, it means things were bad and now they're—I mean, they're better. They're not good. Life is shit wall to wall. But they're better, so you should be happy.

Sorry; nothing happened.

We are a culture that likes stories.

Folklore, legends, sagas.

Jesus told parables. We tell kids bedtime stories. I still find great comfort in ancient myths. I have a degree in telling news stories, although we called it a "four-year BJ". (Yes, yes, everyone wants one.)

It's nice to have a story that makes internal sense and provides an explanation. A good story makes you remember the details and think about how it applies to your own situation.

And sometimes there is no story to tell. Not one that would be satisfying to a listener, anyway. Sometimes the world just carries on and you decide that life doesn't have to be the way it is.

Time makes you bolder

I named my first blog after myself.

Well, that's only half true. I named it after us.

About six months later, I decided it needed a new title. I chose the name carefully, because I always speak about important matters in code.

It had taken me years to decide I might have a theme song.

That was 2007.

Tips for the thoughtless

The cruellest phrase is not "I hate you".

The cruellest phrase is "We love you, but…".

A cookbook reduced me to tears the other day

I was organizing our bookshelf. His on the left. Mine on the right.

After twenty years, we do not have much that is ours. It was a simple, if time-consuming job. Textbooks on the left. Grammar guides on the right. I thought for a while before moving the Star Wars DVDs to the right. Not because there was any question that they might be his, but because they might reasonably be considered Son's as much as mine. (Let's face it: the collection includes The Phantom Menace.)

Then I opened the drawer with the cookbooks.

Cookbooks are mine, of course. I am the only one who cooks. I dutifully started to put them to the right. There were a few that seemed to be his, possibly from diabetes workshops, their spines unbroken, their pages clean. I put them to the left.

Then I put my hand into the drawer and pulled out the gluten-free-baking cookbooks.

I stared at them for a while.

I used those cookbooks every weekend for years. I prided myself on my gluten-free baking. I did research and sought out odd flours to experiment with. I talked about gluten-free baking with anyone who would listen. I made extras for people I knew had gluten intolerances. It took hours. It was worth it, because otherwise, they wouldn't ever get cookies or brownies.

And there I was, holding the cookbooks. The ones I'll never need. The ones he'll never use.

Those cookbooks have no value to us as individuals. They only had value to us as a couple.

I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I built my life around you.

I'm getting divorced. I feel like I'm graduating.

A graduation is a time of transition. A happy time. An exciting time. A time when you don't know what's ahead and anything could be in your future.

A graduation is a time of transition. A sad time. A scary time. A time when you don't know what's ahead and anything could be in your future.

Yes, I feel like I'm graduating.

I'm scared. I'm confused. I'm eager. I'm hopeful.

I'm packing up my bags and starting over. Not quite from scratch. But pretty close.

Going…going…

I am leaving town in a few days to go to my camp for a while.

I cannot wait.

I think I need to be away from real life for a while. I need to be with my brothers. I need to go kayaking. (And I need to come back home alone.)

Things here are slow, but not because my life is slow. My life is on speed. I am just not ready to write about it yet.

I'll keep up the grammar blogging Over There (the new Over There; the old one is officially dead) while I'm away.

I love parentheses. That's all.