Music Heals the Soul
For the last few days, I’ve been running around with headphones half-on. It has caused a bit of confusion around my house. Normally, headphones mean I’m working. Headphones + typing = don’t interrupt. Problem is, I’m wearing my wireless headphones in order to listen to music non-stop. This isn’t because I’m ignoring people, or trying
LEGO Bits Everywhere
Guys. Seriously. I have a problem. I play with LEGO products, and I’m no good at keeping track of pieces. I’m reviewing some books from No Starch Press with LEGO directions and inspiration, and there are bricks all over the place. Kids, cats, a spouse, and fingers that shake a little too often add up
Boredom + Anxiety = F*cked
I do this thing when I’m bored, or a bird flies by, or someone clicks on their mouse a bunch of times, or… I just did it with my own post. I get bored, my mind drifts, and then I’m shocked into this moment of, “WTF just happened?!” It’d by okay if I were even
Writer's Block and the Jailor
Some days, I sit down at my computer, see that blank page, and have no idea what is going on. It’s like walking into a room, walking back out, and walking back in, hoping that your brain will remember what the hell you were doing. Just like that, except with writing. Most of the time,
Code Monkey
Sorry for the earworm, but seriously. My yesterday revolved around cleaning and coding. The coding part is for a programming class to learn how to design Minecraft servers. I want to create an interactive place for me and the kids to play with different rules and stuff, all while never having to worry about griefers and
Sharing Your Pain – The Dumping Circles
I’ve long since learned, and try to live by a simple rule. When in pain, grief, fear, or frailty, there are only a couple of rules for being a good human. I call it the Dumping Circles Rule. When someone has died, for example, there is an order of who gets to dump sadness on whom.
It's Too Real
I thought it was supposed to feel like it isn’t real. I hear people say that it doesn’t feel real to them when someone dies… I don’t get it. I wake up several times a night, with no idea why I’m upset. The it hits me: George is dead. I return to restless sleep. I