Who’s more to blame: me for writing this, or you for reading it?

72.  Every male member of my extended family (on both sides) can grow awesome facial hair.  My brother and I, however, cannot.  It’s embarrassingly frustrating.

I feel like a Sonnet-writer that has never been in love.  Or a rock and roller that does not have a ‘baby.’  Or a Hallmark greeting card writer without a special occasion.

Hmm.  I think I’ll do a few more similes before I get to the point.

Perhaps I’m like a novelist without character, or a soap opera with trustworthy relatives, or a joke without a punchline.

I have something I really want to write about today.  Really, really.  It’s something that I ordered on eBay almost twelve days ago.  In fact, I ordered it right after I wrote this post.

This year‘s project was supposed to be to read my weight in books, but then I realized that I read far too many things online and as articles so that my total book weight would be vastly underreported.  So, after realizing I had only read one (paperback) book in four months, I decided to  start a new project. (I did this last year too.  I switched from this project to this one.)

And, thanks to my trusty new widget, I found out that my new camera would be delivered today.  But I have not received it yet, the FedEx guy is still AWOL.  And what could I say about it without getting it yet?  I mean, would anyone really want to read an entire blog post about something that hasn’t really arrived yet?

And if so, how could I fool them into not being angry afterward?

Update: Actually, I already got the camera, I just didn’t want to write a post that would require me to take pictures.  You understand.

72.  Every male member of my extended family (on both sides) can grow awesome facial hair.  My brother and I, however, cannot.  It’s embarrassingly frustrating. I feel like a Sonnet-writer that has never been in love.  Or a rock and roller that does not have a ‘baby.’  Or a Hallmark greeting card writer without a…