Cin Cin! (ie ching ching, eg cheers).

I have visited 8 countries (3%) and 13 states in the US (25%). While I'm not all too concerned about visiting the rest of the US, my recent (and total) global exposure is looking mighty slim and malnourished. It's been a while since I have traveled far, and living vicariously through Anthony Bourdain and the rest of the paid travelers on the Travel Channel is simply not going to cut it for much longer. I am really going to have to throw myself a delicious bit of travel, as we know it's not good to be all skin and bones.

And as I sit here, ready to open up my version Pandora's Box (by writing), the title Something of a Life is taking on a new form of sarcasm. I can hear my own blase tone of voice hinting that it's part of what could be considered a life, and the rest is just a record stuck on the same boring song. I have been wading through the quagmire of Central Oregon life for a while now, and it is creating a sensation of being stuck on what I like to call The Deschutes Treadmill of Life. Which is to say I have been working at going somewhere, but I have succeeded in only demonstrating that I get easily winded.

Of course now that brings me back to the mythical box of who-knows-what-kind of bad stuff... the only difference between that one and mine is that I know what lies in my box, and it's that eternal pessimism that I am known for. It has been experienced by many, and is well documented in the layers of this blog.

Fortunately, my angst filled emo-tantrums are safely embedded deep in archives, to be viewed and reviewed by only me. So bring out your favorite toasting glasses everyone... here's to me resuming the blog that I said I would never return to. We can only hope that having family readers this time might keep me from going to the Dark Side as often. If that doesn't do the trick, I am in trouble, because you really can't count on my maturity, optimism, humor and good nature for that. Such small quantities of such qualities and character rarely keep someone in a glass-half-full state. However, for your protection and for mine, I'll do my best to keep what I write on a short leash, though I can't see why anyone would want to read anything overly joyous, happy, and otherwise ignorant. I know I wouldn't. But it's not my fault, I blame genetics.