Ah, the goodbye blog post. I've been dreading it for weeks now. But last Friday, I started logging mental notes. And today, I've been plugging away at it in spurts since roughly 11 a.m.
(On that note, thanks Andrew Beaujon for ripping me out of my stream of consciousness moment at exactly 11:08 a.m. with your utterances of "Piece of shit software! Such a piece of shit." )
As I see it, there are a couple of approaches to this: the (A) self-deprecating–but not really– "let me recount all my mistakes so that you may understand the breadth of my career while still finding me winning" approach; Or (B) perhaps the classic rumination on journalism and city life approach. Or (C) the typical blogger format of "Hey I'm not blogging here anymore—but catch me over here [click for new blog link]" approach.
But as for (A) and (B), I really haven't been doing this long enough ( September 2008) for those kind of pronouncements and (C) won't work either because Housing Complex is staying put. So maybe we'll try this:
A series of quick "Full House" style lessons that I have learned by the end of several episodes—er columns. So here goes:
- Hope and change do not apply to your $20,000 inauguration rental in Mitchellville Maryland (which is located here in case you're wondering).
- Any celebrity—even a former vice presidential nominee—will talk to you if they're trying to sell their condo during a recession.
- If you mention that you enjoy Bravo reality shows while interviewing with potential, future roommates, you may be sending a profound message.
- Have patience: That cursed, un-sellable building in your neighborhood will eventually sell-–just don't rely on Dave Chappelle to do it for you.
- And finally: Even if you spend months hounding reality television stars—scratching deep under the skin of the show's producers—they'll still party with you, if you pay for their travel arrangements.
And, naturally, those are just a couple pearls of wisdom (especially the last one—believe it.) Alright, time to go. I have stolen my last piece of gum from Mike "Loose Lips" DeBonis's cube. Swept up my last bit of mouse poo—ewwwwwwwwwwww—hiding behind the thick stacks of paper I cleared out last night. And by the time you're seeing this, pressed "Publish" for the...you know...time.