Donnerstag, 11. Januar 2024

Listicle #01 - Winter Stroller Nap Transfer

Hello, World! I haven't written any posts in awhile. I've been meaning to, but the bar of difficulty was too high.

Too high

Writing a post takes a lot of time, of work, and outofyou. I don't have any of those in abundance right now. I don't have time because I'm mortal; I don't have work because I'm unemployed; I don't have outofyou because that's not a word.

Anyway, when the bar is difficulty is too high, you should lower it 

Unless you're playing limbo.

For fledgling writers like me, there are three forces that can lower the bar. The first is gravity. Unfortunately, gravity is controlled exclusively by God, so I can't use it to lower the bar of difficulty for writing an internet blog post (actually fortunately, because you want gravity in good hands and God's a good guy).

God controlling gravity (Photo Credit: S. Veronica)

The second force that can lower the bar of difficulty for writing an internet blog post is pictures. The exchange rate for pictures to words is a steady 1PIC/1,000WRD, so you're a fool to not take advantage of that. 

Me, a fledgling writer. Not a fool.

The third force is listicles. Just write a listicle. The fourth force is "write what you know." 

Wait, there's a fourth force? Yep. I withheld that information to surprise you.

(surprise is the fifth force)

- - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - -- ------ STRONG LINE BREAK I TYPED MYSELF -- - -- ------ can u tell?

Listicle about "what I know"

I'm a stay-at-home-mom, except I'm a dad and I don't stay at home. I go places with my son. Usually in the jogging stroller, usually in the morning, usually every day. On the way home, my son usually falls asleep because the footmuff -- unlike "outofyou", that's actually a word -- is so cozy in the winter. I don't want to interrupt his nap, so I carry him from the stroller to his bed. This is a protocol of what I do.

Winter Stroller Nap Transfer

1. If I suspect a nap is coming, I check every 5 minutes or so to check if my son is asleep. 

2. If he is asleep, I start the chrono-counter on my watch. I like to know how long he's been asleep. Using my watch eliminates guesswork.

3. If I don't have a pacifier with me, I text my wife (who works from home) and ask her to leave a pacifier  in the garage.

4. I arrive home, open the garage door, and park the stroller (with my son still in it) in the garage. I lock the stroller wheels. 

5. I walk to the door to our building, unlock it and open it (so that I can enter the building while carrying my son with both arms).

6. I walk back to the stroller in the garage and make sure the pacifier is ready and within arm's reach. During the next few steps, if at any time my son shows signs of discomfort or waking up, I offer him the pacifier, which usually "defuses" any fussing.

7. I unzip the footmuff. I untie my shoes and stick the laces (if applicable) inside the shoe. (I don't like walking into his room with my outside shoes on, but if I'm carrying him, I don't have my hands to untie my shoes. If they're already untied, I can step with one foot on the other heel to pull them off).

8. I reach underneath his comfort blanket and unlock the waist belt and both shoulder straps (five-point-harness). I slide the shoulder straps off his body.

9. I unzip his jacket. If he's wearing mittens, I loosen the wrist straps. If he's wearing shoes, I undo the velcro straps. If his hat has a strap, I undo it. I don't remove any of these items yet. (it's easiest to do all of this when he's comfortably sitting in the stroller. But I don't want the shock of cold air on any exposed body surface to wake him, so I leave all these clothing articles on him until I'm inside).

10. I reposition his comfort blanket if necessary so that it's wrapped around him nicely.

11. I take my son -- wrapped in his comfort blanket -- out of the stroller. My preferred technique is to slide one hand behind his back and the other under his legs. Before lifting, I position my chest close to his. In this way, I'm lifting him with my torso more than my arms, which feels smoother and probably cozier for him (because he's pressed against my chest).

12. I carry my son into our building. I use my shoulder to close the door behind me. 

13. I go up the stairs to the landing in front of our apartment. I take my shoes off using my feet. I briefly hold him with one arm while I open the door to our apartment with the other.

14. I enter my son's room. If there is stuff on his bed that can be removed with the swipe of a foot, I do that.

15. I lower my son onto his bed. I remove his hat, mittens, jacket and shoes (usually in that order). I usually don't remove the jacket all the way, I just pull off one sleeve and the main body (leaving one sleeve still on). The important thing is that the torso is removed so he doesn't overheat. 

16. I cover my son with a non-special blanket and turn on some white noise or other background audio.

17. I put away his hat, mittens, jacket and shoes. I inform my wife that "the eagle has landed."

18. If I have groceries or other cargo in the stroller, I return to the garage -- with a giant IKEA cargo bag --to retrieve the stuff, but not after waiting 1-2 minutes near my son's bed to make sure the transfer was successful. 

19. I close the garage door and lock the building door behind me.

20. I do something that I want to do, but that doesn't really involve Otto (if it involves cooking or baking something that could produce excessive steam or smoke, I close the door to his room completely so it doesn't set off the very sensitive smoke detector in there). That's it.

PS. Since writing this article, the success of this method has dropped. Maybe I jinxed it by writing this article. Or maybe I wrote it just in time, while all these details are still fresh in my brain. The temperature is well below freezing the rest of the week, so we won't be going outside for awhile. And by the time we do, there'll be another little baby in our family, so maybe the whole system will change.

Well, my son
We've had a good run

Donnerstag, 19. Oktober 2023

Part of a Larger Story - HP Book 2, Scene 67 - "Alone in Dumbledore's Office" (p205-207)


Scene 67: Alone in Dumbledore's Office

1. Recognizable Room

This scene describes the physical features of the room (it's circular and has portraits of former headmasters) as well as Dumbledore's personal touches (curious little instruments). This lets Harry (and the reader) immediately know where he is when he enters Tom's memory later in the book. Harry recognizes the circular office (so he knows he's in the headmaster's office), but doesn't see the instruments (so he knows that Dumbledore isn't headmaster).

2. The Sorting Hat

A major topic in this book is exploring the similarities between the protagonist and the antagonist (ie. Harry and Voldemort). Voldemort was in Slytherin. Should Harry be in Slytherin? At this point in the book, the other characters are at their peak of suspecting and accusing Harry (see: the Hufflepuffs' library chat). The Sorting Hat's judgement escalates this peak to its true apex. The hat is the ultimate impartial judge, thus, if it says Slytherin, we as the reader have to seriously consider that (as does Harry. Remember, there has been buildup to this Sorting Hat moment. Harry has worried about the hat twice already p153, p197). This escalation is the perfect setup for Dumbledore to clear all suspicion in the next scene.

Side Note: My favorite part of this scene is the irony in Harry's actions here. The very act of taking the hat off the shelf is exactly the sort of thing a Slytherin would do. You're not supposed to touch things in the headmaster's office... unless you're an "by-any-means" Slytherin. 

But wait, there's more: then the hat tells him what he doesn't want to hear. A typical Gryffindor reaction would be to remain brave and stoic no matter what the hat says. What Harry does is more violent, self-righteous, and typical Slytherin: he rips the hat off his head (while it's still talking!) and then tells it that its wrong (even though it's literally the ultimate authority on house placement).

3. Baby Fawkes

Harry is at a low point in this scene. Things couldn't possibly get any worse. But then they do, in the most ridiculous way possible. A bird bursts into flames! It's so ridiculous it's hard not to laugh. And the reader could use some comic relief here (they haven't really had any since Lockhart's ineptitude sent a snake flying p194).

But more importantly, the burning bird gives Harry the opportunity to show that he's a nice guy. Harry's immediate reaction to seeing a bird burst into flames is not to run away, but to try to save it. Nice guy. It's usually important to keep your protagonist likable, but especially here. The entire previous chapter has been building up suspicion around Harry as a potential suspect, to which Harry has reacted by acting kind of rude and mopey. This "nice guy"-moment both redeems the rudeness and dulls the suspicion (which sets up Dumbledore to completely remove it in the next scene).

I guess you could also say that Fawkes's death and rebirth here could symbolize some other rebirth going on in the story, but that'd be pretty contrived. I can't think of anything.

Montag, 11. September 2023

Part of a Larger Story - HP Book 2, Scene 66 - "Walking to Dumbledore's Office" (p204-205)

I like the Harry Potter books. Well, I like half of them. Almost. I like the first three books. I tolerate parts of the fourth book. But books five through seven are those-that-must-not-be-named. When I was younger, I took the "not-naming-them" thing so seriously I would jokingly say stuff like, "Book Two is my favorite of the the Harry Potter trilogy."

I also engaged with others in self-fulfilling monologues about why I think the first three books are better

But they're not better. I consider them better, but...

Instead of attacking HP6 ("Harry Potter and the Half-Baked Plot"), I'm going to do something else. I'm going to do what I do best: gush on this blog about how much I like HP1, HP2, and even HP3 if I have time. 

So what do I like best about the first three books? Well besides the setting (kids having adventures in a boarding school that happens to be magical), they are efficient. Every scene, every interaction fulfills multiple roles. It's actually pretty amazing when you lay it all out. So I'm going to lay it all out for you. I'll start with Book Two, Scene 66 - ie. "Going to Dumbledore's Office." Why am I starting here?

1. In media res, baby. It's fun, look it up.
2. I just finished listening to this section on my audiobook app (albeit in Spanish. I'm learning Spanish)
3. It's an unassuming scene where at first glance, not much seems to happen. But a lot happens! Let me show you how it works.

Scene 66: Going to Dumbledore's Office

1. Marching in Silence
The dialogue between McGonagall and Harry is curt. Harry Potter books are dialogue heavy, so even a half-page of prose is enough to alert the reader to some build-up. Personally, I would have enjoyed a few more sentences in the paragraph, "They marched in silence..." to extend this period of silence as well as to establish Dumbledore's Office as a difficult-to-reach location (which one does not just reach in a single sentence). Something like this:

They marched in silence around a corner. It was so quiet that Harry could hear faint voices from classrooms the floor below. He bent his head down and focused his gaze on his feet. Were they talking about him? He tried counting his footsteps to distract himself, but he soon lost count. McGonagall had stopped abruptly in front of him. Harry looked up. They were standing in an hallway Harry had never seen before, unassuming in appearance, except for a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

2. Out of McGonagall's Hands
We have seen McGonagall five times so far in this book (Scene xx - Snape's Office, Scene xx - Entrance Hall, Scene xx - Lockhart's Office, Scene xx - Hospital Wing, Scene xx - Dark Corridor) and in none of them do we see evidence that McGonagall is the silent type. She's no blabbering Lockhart, but she's also no Viktor Krum. Thus, the effect of her silence, as well as her cutting off Harry's attempt at conversation, hits harder and warns the reader that the situation is dire. 

In addition, to this point we've also gotten to know McGonagall as a very competent figure. And she is. But it's important that the reader understands that there are limits to McGonagall's competence because it makes Dumbledore's removal in Chapter 14 all the more unsettling (upon which McGonagall becomes interim head of school). 

Finally, if something's too much for the second-in-command, there's only one person to escalate to. That lets readers guess where Harry is going ("must be the first-in-command") before he realizes it (another great chapter ending from JK, by the way).

3. Lemon Drop
This lime- I mean line is great. First, it's another clue for the astute reader to guess where Harry is going before he realizes it. Second, it's an easter egg, a rewarding wink to the astute reader that remembers when Dumbledore mentioned lemon drops to McGonagall in HP1. The very astute reader will also remember McGonagall's dismissive, negative reaction to the lemon drops in HP1. With that information, we can imagine McGonagall reluctantly saying "lemon drop" with her trademark pursed lips and maybe a slight eyeroll. Fun moment.

Third, it tells us some things about Dumbledore's character, some of which are new and some of which we knew. Namely:

A: he has a sense of humor ("lemon drop" is a funny password)
B: he is so open, trusting, and confident that he's not concerned with excessive security ("lemon drop" is not a secure password)
C: he has a friendly relationship with McGonagall, beyond just being colleagues (he made "lemon drop" his password just to mess with her). This added dimension makes the teachers appear more human and relatable.

4. Gargoyle, Escalator, Details
Chapter 11's penultimate paragraph uses descriptive imagery to draw out and build up the approach to this significant location. The entry to all other classrooms and offices up to this point has been decidedly unceremonious and unmagical. Dumbledore's office is an exception. All this pomp and buildup remind the reader of Dumbledore's status. 

This is important because Dumbledore himself does not often remind the reader of his status. Dumbledore doesn't appear much in the first three books, and when he does, he's approachable, relatable (he likes sweets), cooperative (he does not resist being removed from the school), and unafraid of "grunt work" (he personally examines a petrified cat). These qualities make him likable, but they also make him clash with the stereotype of the boarding school headmaster. But the reader needs to remember he's headmaster because his role in the story is the highest, wisest moral authority. So he gets a unique staircase (which gets a callback in the diary flashback) and an automatic door (which gets a griffin- shaped knocker). 

Note: I consider the first two sentences of Chapter 12 to be part of Scene 66.

Note: That took a long time. Maybe I won't go into so much detail on future Harry Potter posts.

Sonntag, 10. September 2023

Eric's House Rules #01 - Sushi Go!

In this series, "Eric's House Rules" I write about rules that I add to games that I play. I am not a professional game designer, but I have some ideas that some people have some fun with.

My understanding of good game design might be different from yours. In general, my house rules are crafted to increase player agency while maintaining simplicity and elegance. They also seek to create memorable moments and minimize player frustration, both of which are pretty subjective, of course. I've convinced some of my friends and family to try some of my house rules, and I encourage you to do the same. But you don't have to. 

"Sushi Go“ is a drafting game, similar to 7 Wonders. The illustrations are cute. It is about as simple as a drafting game can be. It seems to be pretty popular because I've seen it in lots of bookstores in New England. It's from Gamewright, a company that has made a name for itself producing simple games for children, a category where Sushi Go fits right in.

Link to online PDF of Sushi Go! Rules

House Rule #1: "Reverse Wasabi"

Original Game:
If you play Wasabi, then play a Nigiri, the Wasabi triples the value of the next nigiri you play.

House Rule:
If you play Wasabi, then play a Nigiri, the Wasabi modifies the value of the next Nigiri you play according to the following: 

Egg => 8
Salmon => 6
Squid => 4 

Why try it?:

Squid is already the strongest card in the game; it doesn't need the added bonus of growing even stronger in combination with Wasabi. Squid is the strongest card because its Points-Per-Card (PPC) is always at least 3, which is a very good rate. Compare it to Tempura, whose PPC is a mere 2.5 and only if you assemble two of them. Because Squid is the best card, it's nearly always correct to pick a Squid when you see one, whether you already have a Wasabi in front of you or not.

See a Squid, take a Squid. I think this is boring. I think drafting games are more fun when the value of the cards is more dynamic and context-dependent. For example, a Sashimi is worth more to a player with 2 Sashimi in play than to a player with none. When cards have different values to different players, it creates scenarios where the best pick is not as obvious as "See a Squid, take a Squid." Ya gotta think 'n' stuff.

Consider the following scenarios that can only occur when you try the "Reverse Wasabi" House Rule.

Scenario A: The neighbor you're passing to has a Wasabi in play. You have a Salmon in play. Your current hand contains an Egg and a Squid (and several other unimportant cards). Which do you take? If you take Squid, you'll have 5 points total, but your opponent be able to make 8 points next turn. If you take Egg, you'll only have 3 points total, but your opponent will only be able to make 4 points next turn. 

The correct answer requires you to consider each player's current standing. If the neighbor you're passing to is very far behind, it might be correct to let them have the 8 point Wasabi-Egg combo because they're not a threat to you; thus, maximizing your own points is more important. With the original rule, the correct answer is always Squid.

Scenario B: Everyone but you is ready to reveal their 3rd pick of the round. You remember that the hand you just passed to your neighbor contained a Wasabi, but will they pick it? Your current hand contains an Egg and a Squid. Which do you take? If you take the Squid, you'll maximize your own points, but you run the risk of setting your neighbor up for a Wasabi-Egg combo.

Here you have to consider everything you did in Scenario A, but there's also an element of risk. Does that neighbor tend to take Wasabi? Are there more Eggs coming in the next hands anyway? (which would mean it's harder to try and "cut off" your neighbor from them).

Scenario C: You have a Wasabi and two Dumplings in play. Your current hand contains a Salmon and a Dumpling. Which do you take? If you take the Salmon, you'll get 6 points, but you'll use up your Wasabi and won't have it if you get passed an Egg in a later turn.

With the original rule, you shouldn't turn down a Wasabi-Salmon combo just for the chance at a Wasabi-Squid combo because the chance of getting passed a Squid is so low (because Squids are good cards that get taken immediately!). When the big Wasabi-combo is Wasabi-Egg, however, there's a higher chance you'll get both pieces because to people without a Wasabi, Egg is worth just 1 point. 

Finally, I chose the numbers 4, 6, and 8 because the sequence 4-6-8 is pretty easy to remember, but I'm not married to these numbers. 5-6-7 might be better. Or something totally different - try it out. I concede that the original rule of "triple the Nigiri's points" is simpler and easier to remember, but if you've played a lot of Sushi Go and want more dynamic games, try reversing your Wasabi. If you find that too many people are getting 8 Point combos and it's warping the game, you can try removing an Egg Nigiri or two from the deck (there are only 5). 

House Rule #2: Chopsticks as Last Card

Original Game:
If you have Chopsticks in play at the end of the round, it's worth nothing. 

House Rule:
If you have Chopsticks in play at the end of the round, discard it and replace it with the top card of the deck (the remaining cards that were not dealt to players).

Why try it?

I think it's pretty lame that you can get passed Chopsticks in the last turn of a round and there's nothing you can do about it. It's a feel-bad moment. Why not give that poor player a sliver of hope? The opportunity cost -- measured in game balance and complexity -- is low. A random card from the top of the deck usually won't be worth much (if anything), so this house rule -- while it adds an element of luck -- probably won't actually change the outcome of too many games. 

But when it does, boy oh boy, will it be memorable. And for me, memorable moments are what games are all about.

I'm not sure if this house rule should be more restrictive, ie. if it should only apply if you're passed Chopsticks as the last card in a round. There are good arguments for both, but I think the less restrictive version is easier to remember and maybe more fun.

House Rule #3: Maki Points

Original Game:
The player with the most Maki Rolls receives 6 points. The player with the second most receives 3 points.

House Rule:
The player with the most Maki Rolls receives 7 points. The player with the second most receives 4 points. (or 8 Points, 4 Points, I dunno)

Why try it:

I'm pretty sure Maki are bad. To have the most Maki rolls, you need to dedicate at least two, usually three picks to Maki. That means that even if you achieve first place, the PPC (Points-Per-Card) is still only 2, maybe 3 Points. That's not much better than Salmon or Dumpling, which are much safer investments. The problem is that collecting Maki is inherently riskier. I believe this risk should be better rewarded.

The first reason Maki is riskier is that the Maki cards themselves are more variable. Sure, all cards in Sushi Go are subject to the variability of the cardpool (the sum of all cards among all starting hands in a given round). Until you've seen every hand, you don't know how many copies of a given card are in the cardpool (worst case scenario: you pick a Sashimi first turn, not knowing that there's only one other Sashimi this round). The additional variability of Maki is that there are three versions of them, distributed as follows.

1-Roll-Maki: x6
2-Roll-Maki: x12
3-Roll-Maki: x8

That means that on your first turn, not only do you not know how many total Maki cards there are, you don't know how many total Rolls there are. This makes it harder to estimate how many picks you need to dedicate to Maki to win first place. Maybe this round is full of lots of 2-Rolls and 3-Rolls and you need 12+ Rolls to win. Maybe there's just a bunch of 1-Rolls. You just don't know!

The second -- and more important -- reason Maki is riskier is that their point value is dependent on the actions of other players. Best case scenario if you're pursuing a Maki strategy: you pick one or two Maki cards and gain an early lead that no one else challenges. The Maki cards you don't pick are distributed among the other players more or less at random. But the worst case scenario: you find yourself in an arms race with another player, where you need to spend lots of picks on Maki to defend your lead (opportunity cost). But it's really a race to the bottom because no matter how many Maki Rolls you have, the most you can ever get is 6 Points. But if you lose the race, it's a piddly 3 (the same as a single Squid). 

I'm unsure if 7 Points for first and 4 Points for second are the right numbers, but I'm very sure that, in the original game, Maki cards are very weak. Boosting them makes them a viable strategy compared to other cards. 

House Rule #4: Maki Ties

Original Game:
If multiple players tie for the most [Rolls], they split the 6 points evenly (ignoring any remainder) and no second place points are awarded.

House Rule:
If multiple players tie for the most Rolls, the player with the most Maki Cards wins. If multiple players have the same number of Maki Cards, they all receive the full points and no second place points are awarded. 

In the section about House Rule #3, I made my case as to why Maki is weak (low PPC, despite high risk). It turns out there's another reason why Maki is weak in the original game: if you get into an arms race with another player (already the worst case scenario), you'll end up with a piddly 3 points not only if you lose, but also if you tie (which is not uncommon!). This is stupid. Pardon my bluntness, but I cannot fathom why the game designers chose this scoring method, especially when there's already an established procedure for this exact situation in other games. 

That procedure is: when two players tie for first, take the points awarded for first, add it to the points for second, divide the total by two (round up or round down if necessary) and give that many points to each player (adjust as necessary if more than two players tie).

You can play Sushi Go with that established procedure if you like, but I'd like to go a step further. First, let's introduce a tiebreaker: if multiple players have the same number of Rolls, then look at the total number of Maki Cards. It's only fair to reward the player that invested more picks in Maki. And ties are lame, right?

But even with this tiebreaker, there will still be ties. Second step: let's remove some of the "race-to-the-bottom"-aspect of Maki Rolls and introduce a non-zero-sum alternative. Let's award the full points to all players with the most Rolls and an equal number of Cards. Why? Because it gives players a chance to cooperate (or backstab!). Normally two players collecting Maki Rolls are rivals, but if they cooperate, they can both win (and gain an advantage over the other players). Achieving this cooperation is not guaranteed, though; at any point, a non-Maki player can swipe a critical card. Or going into the final round, when two Maki-players have the same number of Rolls and have agreed to not take any more, one of them can backstab the other by taking a final Roll.

Change #5: Maki Mirror

Original Game:

House Rule:
At the end of the round, if the number of Maki Rolls you have is equal to the number of points you have from non-Maki, non-Pudding cards, double your score.

This rule is weird. Here goes.

Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes all you get is a Nigiri, a Sashimi, a Dumpling, a Tempura, an unused Wasabi, some Maki, and Chopsticks. That's too bad. The Maki Mirror House Rule gives you an "emergency button" that lets you salvage an otherwise horrible round. What would have been a horrible 3 Point Round can become... with a little luck and work... a less-painful 6 Point Round. 

It's also an interesting alternate strategy. Normally Maki Rolls are only useful if you're trying to get the most, but now there's the alternative of angling for 2nd place on total Maki Rolls while also receiving a juicy Maki Mirror bonus.

I also don't like games where cards are strictly better than other cards (ie. better in all situations). In the original game, 1-Roll Maki is always worse than 2-Roll and 3-Roll Maki. With the Maki Mirror rule, there's at least a few niche cases where a 1-Roll Maki is preferable to the others.

I admit that this rule is a little weird, and I've never actually gotten anyone to try it with me, but it might be fun enough to justify the added complexity.

House Rule #6

Just add another Sashimi to the deck.

Make the total number of Sashimi divisible by 3! Please. Mostly an aesthetic argument, but c'mon, I just want to live the dream of a 9 Sashimi, 30 point round (in a 3-Player game). Also, Sashimi are kind of weak and could use a little help.

Donnerstag, 15. Juni 2023

Starting a Blog - Reasons #1 + #2

Hello world. There are a few reasons I'm starting a blog.

Reason #1. Get Better at Writing

In 1st or 2nd grade1 I wrote a story about two pigs called "Bob and Job." It was considered very good by me because it was four or five pages long (double sided). Ever since I wrote that piece, I've always self-identified as a writer, even though I don't write. At all. I don't even have a book on Amazon. 

Ever since I met my wife, I've sometimes felt insecure about making less money than her, even though that's completely okay. But even though it's completely okay -- and it definitely is -- I still deep-massage my ego sometimes with the shallow thought that, maybe, probably, if I wanted to, because I self-identify as a writer, and if I set aside an hour or two a night for a few weeks...I could write the next big kaboom novel. Which, if it made the big kaboom money -- and it definitely would -- would make me feel cool 2.

That's all very unlikely. 

But it's a little less unlikely if I get focused for once, get readers to read, and get better at writing. 

If you're skeptical, please note that I've already gotten better at writing since I started this post. Look at my second sentence in this section (I underlined it). I used the passive voice for no reason. That's bad style, elementary, even. And then eight sentences later I'm structuring in parallel (I bolded it).

I know what you're thinking. Sure, it's parallel structure, but it's kinda mediocre parallel structure. But that's where you're wrong. There's no "kinda mediocre" with parallel structure. Either the lines are parallel, or they're not. No in between. That's math.

My lines 

are parallel.

Reason #2. Get Ideas Out There

My life has been pretty good. Five years ago, in 2018, it got even better. Specifically in the weeks preceding Easter. That was when my wife met her husband-to-be (me). For me to become her husband-he-is, hinged, in these pre-Easter weeks, on several factors, one of which was puns.

I used to make puns a lot. Bad puns. Dad jokes. Groaners. I thought they were so bad, they were good. They were not. They were bad. But they were there. They were free (like lots of bad things). I definitely wasn't paying a monthly subscription to make puns appear in my inbox-- I mean, in my head. At least not knowingly. You know how subscriptions are. You know, maybe I did subscribe to something. It probably had a goofy motto like this:

"Puns in the head, gonna get said." 

By 2018 I had punned so much that God4 had every right to smite me, but instead, to me his hand he lent. And to me he gave the gift of commitment to give up puns for Lent. Maybe he knew I was about to meet my wife-to-be and he wanted me to have a chance. If things went well, commitment to pun-free could lead to commitment to matrimony. And things went well. Palm Sunday in the Bahamas. The Last Supper in an Oatmeal Bistro 5. Then Good Friday came, and with it the fear that in three days, the puns would rise from the grave.

But unlike Jesus, the puns stayed dead.

I declined to let them rise because I realized that my life had improved. Not just because I had met a wonderful, beautiful, incredible woman that made me more content with my life. Because even after accounting for all the improvements she catalyzed, there were still a few improvement points unaccounted for. These were the fruits of my commitment to the punless lent tree6. Less punning, more funning. The puns still appeared in my head, I just didn't always say them out in public.

"Puns in the head, gonna stay dead."

This section was titled "#2 - Get Ideas Out There." When am I going to get to that? Right now. Actually in the next sentence, because in this sentence I'm getting you ready for the getting-to-that. So basically, I have a brain that constantly mashes words and ideas into longer words and bigger ideas, 98% of which are garbage. Puns constituted a lot of that garbage. I've realized it's near impossible to stop the internal mashing, but far impossible to stop the external trashing ie. saying all these long words and big ideas without checking first to see if (1) they're good and (2) the people I'm talking to, if with it, they're good. And when I say something from that 2%, they're usually good with it. But where to put the other 98%?7

Right here. You're reading it. This is my garbage.

When I said "Get Ideas Out There" I didn't mean:

"Get [brilliant] Ideas Out...Thither Beyond the Seven Seas, Into Mindful Minds" 

But rather, I meant:

"Get [garbage] Ideas Out...of My Head and Put Them Over There, Wherever" 

Thank you for choosing to take time out of your day to take garbage out of my brain.

Reason #3. + Reason #4. - Coming soon!

I don't have time to write about any more reasons. If you want to read more, I recommend the footnotes. You're not a footnote-skipper, are you?

1 It's hard to remember which grade because I had the same teacher, Mrs.D, for both 1st and 2nd Grade. At the time, this practice was called "looping" and it's as cool as it sounds because Mrs.D was a great teacher.
2 But seriously, what would be cool about that? Is it really cool to bring home more bacon than your partner can win bread? You shouldn't compare apples and oranges; why should you compare bacon and bread? You should COMBINE bacon and bread, add lettuce and tomato, and have your sandwich. And eat it.
4 Old-Testament God.
5 I wish I was making this one up and the Bahamas one was true. But that's not how it is.
6 The other, lesser-known tree Jesus sat under.
7 Originally I wrote 99% garbage, 1% good, but that sounded weird because I kept thinking of the numbers of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Much easier to just claim I have twice as many good ideas.










^These periods are here so that there's more space to scroll down the page. Otherwise the footnote links can't line you up to the correct footnotes ('cause the page gets stuck and can't scroll down anymore). This was my solution to the problem. I was pretty proud of it. Then I realized I'll probably never have this problem again on this blog, because future posts will always have previous posts below them. That made me sad because, like I said, I was proud of you, my little solution. I was looking forward to working with you. But I don't really need you anymore. I could keep you around, but it wouldn't be the same. You'd feel how I don't need you. I already miss you.

Listicle #01 - Winter Stroller Nap Transfer

Hello, World! I haven't written any posts in awhile. I've been meaning to, but the bar of difficulty was too high. Too high Writing ...