Friday, September 25, 2009

Hey Blog!

Hey blog. Long time no see. You look thinner. Except for your muscles, which look bigger. And you seem smarter, more confident, and funnier than I remember you. Not that you weren't those things before. This isn't coming out right.


What I'm trying to say is that I missed you.

Things happen and I'll think, I should tell my blog about this, and then I'll think, it's been so long since blog and I talked, can I really start up again with something this small? Hey blog, Ripley ate a squirrel... no, that won't do. And so I don't say anything. Even some kind of big things - like, did you know that Mars has a penis? - have gone without comment. And all this right when I need your help. How do you feel about Mojo as a middle name, blog? Because I really like it and it's meeting some resistance. Can you do anything about this, blog?

Anyway, we've started shooting The Beaver. At this moment Mel Gibson is wandering around New York with a beaver puppet on his hand because despite having a team of agents, managers, and years of experience, he was somehow convinced it was a good move. Here's hoping he's right. I would love to say more, blog, but as we've discussed, the most interesting things are the ones I end up not being able to write down. If you see me in person, like if you and I got on an elevator, I tend to talk a lot about this. I have thoughts, feelings, etc. about it. But they're elevator thoughts, not internet thoughts. And since you live in the internet, well... sorry about that.

We also tried to buy a house, and sell a house, and then build a house, and we accomplished none of these because we're afraid of everything. Apparently our house isn't worth what we're asking for it, but the one we wanted to buy, they wouldn't sell for anything less. And building, it turns out, takes a long, long, long time, and they want you to pay for the house even before you can live in it. Doesn't that seem wrong? It seemed wrong to us. So we're just going to keep the whole gang here, have the three kids share one room until one of them lands a Disney Channel series and buys us an island. Or Mel's place is apparently for sale and there's practically no limit to what some Hannah Montana money could buy us.

I'm taking Amy to the set for our 11th anniversary next week because as you know the 11th is the bring your spouse to work anniversary. It's also the get someone else to pay for your hotel and airfare anniversary and still probably complain about the price of food in New York anniversary. All this obviously comes before the 12th, which is the why did I marry this cheap idiot anniversary. I'll let you know how it goes.

That's all for now, blog. Don't give up on me. I have so much to say to you, we just keep letting the little things get in the way. Life's too short for that, blog. Let's talk. Everyday. We can do it. Okay, not everyday, but often. Sometimes. We'll do like an every other week thing. Every other solstice? Let's maybe not get bogged down in specifics. We'll just, you know, see each other around. Maybe on an elevator. I've missed you.

Hold me?


p.s. Mars Mojo Killen - please register your support. Or I'm willing to go with Mars Jones Killen and have the nickname be Mojo. You love it, right?


 
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