February 18: Making a Change!

So I was talking to my friend WonderTwin, who is a blog stalker.  I was complaining about how the readership/following of this blog doesn't seem to be growing.  She gave me a whole bunch of suggestions, including writing about food, writing about running, writing about cookies, becoming a lesbian, buying a cat, writing about becoming a lesbian, and writing about buying a cat.  She also suggested changing the name of my blog.

After much consideration, I decided this morning to change the name of my blog.  Therefore, I created a new blog, exported all of the blogs from Feasts & Famines to the new blog, and, from here on out, all my new posts will be on my new/improved blog.

So, the new blog is called......(drum roll).......

Saint Marty

I have to admit, I like the sound of it.  The new address for the blog is....

saintmarty-marty.blogspot.com

I hope all of you who have been reading me already will make the switch, tell your friends, tell your enemies, tell everyone to come and check me out.  The format and content will largely stay the same, although I am going to try to make daily posts, even if all I'm doing is posting a picture of my runny egg at breakfast.  So, some of the new posts will be lengthier, more considered, and brilliant (what you're used to from me), and others will be just check-ins, but still funny and brilliant.  It's all for the good of the world (and to be named a Blog of Note by the staff of Blogger).

So, I hope you will join me on the other side.  Cross over.  The water's fine, although some sharks have been spotted.

Go now to Saint Marty at saintmarty-marty.blogspot.com.

By the way, my egg this morning looked like this:

February 16: Saint Juliana

Let me tell you about a few things that piss me off.  Be warned, what you are about to read may come off as mean, petty, stupid, angry, sinful, envious, and cranky.  I will own that.  If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you already know what a flawed and broken person I am.  No big surprise.

I have not ranked the things I'm going to bitch about in any specific order.  These rants are spontaneous and fueled by my general need every once in a while to go a little postal (no offense if you're a mail carrier).  So, here I go...

I'm pissed that I'm a part-time adjunct English instructor at a university that I probably don't stand a chance of ever working for on a full-time basis as a "real" faculty member.  I've been an adjunct for close to 15 years now.  In fact, I think I'm considered the "senior" adjunct, which is sort of like being the head fry cook at McDonald's.  The only way I probably even stand a chance of being allowed to play with the grownups is if I win the National Book Award, the Pulitzer Prize, or the Nobel Prize in Literature.  I can't even be selected as a shitty Blog of Note, which brings me to my next subject...

I'm pissed that I haven't been chosen as a Blog of Note.  I follow the BONs every week.  One of the latest Blogs of Note is written by a woman who pretty much goes out to eat at different restaurants around the world, takes pictures of her food, and posts the pictures.  Big friggin' deal.  She now has hundreds of new followers because of her BON status.  Me, I can't get any new followers.  I have to personally remind most of my old followers to read my blog.  I guess the people of Blogger have something against someone who writes blogs that are literate, funny, spiritual, intelligent, and not about food.

I'm pissed that no matter how hard I work, I never seem to get ahead.  I start work at around 5:15 every morning.  During the day, I register patients, put together medical records, answer phones, and schedule surgeries.  Some time during that day, I sneak off to campus to teach one or two classes.  Then I come back to the first job and work until 5 p.m.  Tonight, because it's Wednesday, I have to go to church for choir practice at 7 p.m. and then praise band practice at 8 p.m.  I'll eventually get home around 9:30, just in time to make my daughter's school lunch, pick out my work clothes for tomorrow, and go to bed.  For my taxes this year, I have four W-2 forms.  Yet I still have trouble staying ahead of the bills.

I'm pissed that I've been trying to sell my house for over a year now and haven't gotten a single offer yet.  I spent about a month this autumn tearing up carpeting and painting walls, injuring my fingers and feet on carpet staples and tacks about 15,000 times.  I'm not a home improvement kind of guy.  The other night, I told my wife that I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to die in this house.  (It doesn't help that my coworker put her house on the market for a day, got three offers, and sold it immediately.)

I'm pissed that they changed the question format of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

I'm pissed that Justin Bieber didn't win the Best New Artist Grammy.  Just kidding.

I'm pissed that change is inevitable and that people try to convince me change is a good thing.  Change, for the most part, only brings about pain, hurt, hardship, and hard work.  Change sucks.

If you haven't realized it yet, I'm not in a great mood right now.  There's a legend about today's saint, Juliana.  In the third century, Juliana was thrown into prison for (what else?) being a Christian.  The story goes that, while she was in prison, the devil appeared to her, and she spent days wrestling with him and fending off his attacks. 

Right now, I'm Juliana, and I'm wrestling with some devils.  At the moment, it feels like the devils are winning.  And guess what?  That pisses me off, too.

February 14: Saint Valentine

Yes, there really was a Saint Valentine.  He was a Roman priest who lived in the third century.  A good portion of his ministry was caring for Christians who were being hunted down, tortured, and killed by Emperor Claudius II.  Eventually, Valentine was captured and beheaded around the year 270.  He is the patron saint of greetings, which seems like a pretty logical explanation for the origins of the customs of Valentine's Day (and the use of Hallmark).  In actuality, giving cards to your love on this day had pagan origins.  In ancient times, boys drew "the names of girls in honor of their goddess, Februarto Juno, on February 15."  Christians, to combat this pagan custom, substituted the names of saints for the goddess, sort of the way Christians co-opted the Winter Solstice from the Druids and Celts by transforming it into Christmas.  We Christians recognize a good thing when we see it.  And if it gives me an excuse to receive free chocolate, all the better.

Really, when you think about it, having a day dedicated to love, whether it's pagan or Christian, isn't such a bad idea.  There's really not many holidays that, by their very definitions, are designed to make us appreciate people.  My daughter, of course, will be coming home from school this afternoon with a bag full of the latest in sugar crack for kids.  She herself is contributing Airheads and Fun Dips.  Airheads are just bastardized versions of Laffy Taffy.  Fun Dips consist of a stick of candy that the consumer licks, scoops into a packet of crystallized powder, then licks or sucks again.  It's a pretty disgusting confection, ranking right up there in my books with Pixie Stix, which are just paper straws filled with flavored sugar.  Kids love this shit.

For the two or three long-time readers of my blog, you already know my affinity for chocolate.  Along with books, American Idol, and Jesus, chocolate is one of the few things I take very seriously.  At the top of my list of favorite reads from the last few years is Candyfreak by Steve Almond.  It's a non-fiction account of Almond visiting candy factories and writing about the manufacture of various popular sugary treats.  He talks about the origin of his candy obsession, categorizes and ranks the favorite candies of his childhood, and discusses issues like fame and mortality.  And he gets tons of free chocolate to boot.  The guy is a genius.

Aside from exchanging cards, my wife and I aren't really do anything special for Valentine's Day today.  We went to Red Lobster last Friday, but that really had nothing to do with our love for each other and everything to do with lobster pizza and artichoke dip.  I bought my wife some heart-shaped Reese's Peanut Butter cups, which she began eating on Friday night.  Tonight, I'm chauffeuring our daughter from religion class to dance class to home.  My wife is going out with friends from her women's group at church.  We probably won't see each other until after 9:30 p.m.  Not much room for romance.  I don't think I'll even have the energy for a dirty thought by the time I see my wife this evening.

So, I'm all for a pagan/Christian holiday focused on love and chocolate.  I really believe in the importance of telling people you love them, in letting them know you respect and appreciate their contributions to your life.  I wish each and every one of you a Happy Valentine's Day.

And for the record, I love chocolate creams (anything but maple, coffee, and coconut).  Just in case you were wondering what to get me.