I don’t know about you, but I slept much better last night after President Bush told us everything was juuuuuust fine. Whew. I’d been concerned, as you may have noticed, but now I see that we’re firmly in control, the war went great, and goddamnit, we’re number 1.

We’re number 1! We’re number 1! We’re number 1! USA. USA. Take that, world! In Your Face, Saddam Hussein.

Yes. So.

Although this particular site has been live for little more than 2 years, I’ve been babbling at you pretty-much nonstop for 5 years now. Old entries are recycled here now and again, so after much thought I decided that it was sort of legitimate to declare this the 5th birthday of the blog/journal/whatever, even if the site has migrated hither and yon over that time. It’s never actually gone away, so I figure that counts for something, maybe. In reality, maybe 1999 is a better birthdate. I don’t know, you can discuss among yourselves.

Here’s the 1st paragraph of my first post, dated July 31, 1998:*

This project is probably doomed to failure, because the odds of me updating this site on a regular basis for any length of time fall somewhere between slim and none.

Yeah, so as we can see, I was a little off in predictions of a speedy obsolecence.

The rest of the post was pretty boring, but is rather ironic in that it was a rather sarcastic little blurb on the President’s crappy foreign policy. President Clinton that is. Hey, I’m nothing if not consistent. Or consistently inconsistent.

I have no big revelations or wackiness to commemorate today, but I did begin to think about something (vaguely) important (to me) on the way to work.

This morning in Georgetown a pigeon just dropped out of the sky with a thunk on the windshield of a car in another lane. The driver of the car, never pausing from her cellphone conversation, leaned out of her car removed the pigeon (tossing it on the ground), got back in her car, ran her windshield wipers/washer and then proceeded on her way. No one else seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to this.

Isn’t it odd for pigeons to fall from the sky? Or is it only odd if you bother to think about it? As I drove on, I began to think that it was possible that it’s not that weird things happen to me, it’s that I bother to notice them.

Then I thought about the fact that (to me anyway) my car still smells like squirrel pee. And I realized that no matter how I tried to rationalize it, I am a freak magnet of the highest order and I just have to accept that.

* And completely hand-coded. That sure sucked. All hail moveable type!

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