A few people have reminded me that I need to update my blog. I have many ideas I would like to share with all of you, which is actually a nice change of pace around here! However, I first need to write about the above-mentioned topic.

It's the kind of blog where you're not really sure how you're going to present in a cohesive, amusing way, but that you have to write otherwise everything else that's in line behind it will lose relevance. You know that kind? This particular post is the "I didn't drink enough water and am sadly lacking in fiber, therefore I am having a tremendous amount of difficulty pushing this shit out" post. After this, the rest of the shit will flow freely. We all know how that goes.

So, yeah, my little brother, Eric, heretofore referred to as "Punk Ass" is now a U.S. Marine. I will post a photo as evidence, for those of you who just might not fucking believe it. I swear it's true, though!

What an adventure it was to drive 700 miles down to South Carolina "low country," where street signs make absolutely NO SENSE WHATSOEVER, but there sure is a lot of fast food! And trailers! And long stretches of road with freaky trees and no street lamps. BUT! We did pass an abundance of Cracker Barrel's on the way down and even stopped at one at my dogged insistence for lunch. The biscuit was very tasty.

Highlights from the trip include:

- my mother mistaking the distinctive "pop" of rifle fire and exclaiming with hopeful delight, "Fireworks!"

- Attempting to catch up with Eric's battalion during their morning motivational run by taking off like a bat out of hell and tearing up the back of my heel in the process. I paced those Marines, though. I am physically fit! Sort of...

- being able to pick Eric out of a uniformed sea of similar-looking faces by his oddly small ears...

- eating at: Hardees, KFC, Cracker Barrel, Arby's, and McDonald's, effectively taking care of every fast food craving I have ever had.

- chain-chewing Orbit.

- seeing my little brother act all scared around his Drill Instructor, to whom I told the story of when I dropped Eric as a baby.

- listening to all the bootcamp stories.

- watching the graduation ceremony, which was truly one of the most incredible things I've ever seen, and I've seen lots of shit.

- my mom holding up a HUGE sign with Eric's baby picture BLOWN UP on it in front of all six graduating battalions at the graduation ceremony.

- watching my obviously delighted father greet Eric, who was dressed in uniform, congratulating him, and immediately recognizing that he had achieved Sharp Shooter status by the metal on his uniform.

- being super-proud of my little brother, who surprised us all my making it through healthy. We were NOT surprised, however, by how completely OBSESSIVE he is about keeping all his uniforms IMMACULATE.

- all the Coke Zero I drank

NOT a highlight of the trip:

- driving the entire 700 miles back to New Jersey, hardly ever able to use cruise control. Yeah.


Congratulations, Eric. You're still a Punk Ass, but you've accomplished something I could never have withstood. Don't ever let anybody take that away from you, either by belittling the people you learned to respect and with whom you now proudly serve, or by taking their frustration with the state of the union out on you.

You are one of the few. And the proud. And you deserve respect and congratulations. Unless you act like an asshole, in which case, I'll be sure to let you know!