You may not be aware of it, but I do not want to speak
to you and under no circumstances do I want you to
speak to me. I am only replying in order to clear up
any confusion you may have and in order to say this:
Do not contact me in ANY form.
Yes, kids, this is my 100th post. Nothing like a little personal angst to celebrate the milestone and sum up my weekend. Dan and I were actually analyzing the email with more gusto than Lincoln had when composing the Gettysburg Address. (And here's a tidbit of useless knowledge I've gotten from the History channel: he did NOT write it on an envelope, as in the popular myth.)
Why the gusto? Well, the recipent has a tendency to misread or invent emotions or lack thereof out of what most people would consider the simpliest and most specific wording possible. Four score and seven years ago I tried to communicate with my in-laws, but it didn't work.
Me: I think I should say "you may not be aware of it" because that's a possibility and I feel like it will...
Dan: What do you mean? The fact that we haven't talked to them and have been ignoring them for nine months isn't enough to make them aware of it?
Me: Uh, obviously not.
Anyway, in other news...
I made Gumbo for dinner and it turned out too spicy. I guess I went too heavy on the cayenne pepper, although the sausage might have added too much kick on its own.
Yeah, it's a slow night.
But perhaps I will write more often now that I think my computer is getting a tad bit better. The flashing screen has not given me any seizures so far and perhaps it's my imagination, but it appears to be not as much of a pain in the ass as it was recently. See? I'm a forgiving person. Just ask my in-laws.