Monday, January 25, 2010


Way back when in the year 2007, when it still was cool to have a weblog, I had this fantasy that I’d get famous for my project—like Julie Powell, of the Julia Child cookbook project—of going 327 days in a row writing a 327-word essay. It was a noble—and by that I mean self-centered and misguided—effort and while it didn’t earn me the riches and acclaim I had hoped for, it did get me pretty well habituated to the practice of writing essentially pointless little pieces about essentially pointless things, an endeavor I continue to this day, although not quite with the abandon that I did before Obama was elected.

Now, I’m content to conceive of the ongoing project as my continuing effort to write the world’s most boring blog, an aspiration that, if you ask my daughter, I’ve sewed up, even though her assessment depends entirely on speculation since, as any self-respecting 12 year-old would attest to, she wouldn’t be caught dead even accidentally running across this site.

But if, by some chance she did happen upon these words, her judgment would certainly be confirmed by today’s offering, which chronicles no less exciting an activity than an excursion Jen and I took yesterday to buy a new refrigerator and washer/dryer combination.

Sounds pretty mundane, but as a matter of fact, we had a reasonably good time, riding the tandem in the rain downtown to Sears in SODO, then north along the waterfront to Albert Lee near Eliot Bay where, in the spirit of buying from the local provider, we shelled out a small fortune for home appliances that, unlike the ones we have now, were built after our daughter was born and which, allegedly, won’t cause our electrical meter to spin so fast when they run.

We got soaked riding back towards home, but warmed up from the inside out with mid-day drinks at the Alibi room.

If that's boring, I'll take it.


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