This is a longer description about your blog. 2026-01-29T00:00:00Z https://example.com/ Your Name 2026-01-29T00:00:00Z https://example.com/blog/breakfast/ <p>What am I going to have for breakfast tomorrow? I swear, I often go to sleep thinking about this. I have cereal for breakfast every day, and it is one of the greatest joys in my life. I have a special weakness for cereals like Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, because apparently I'm 10 years old. But I don't allow myself to eat those every day, because I'm not 10 years old. Does it really matter? Cereals are mostly made out of the same stuff. A grain. A little too much sugar, if the cereal is any good. Maybe some nuts or raisins or granola blobs. But from those few ingredients, a magical ecosystem of different pleasures. We already covered Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Frosted Mini-Wheats. Cinnamon Oat Crunch Cheerios, which sounds healthy but has more sugar than those first three do. Basic 4, which seems to come and go, and each time it leaves the shelves I'm left wondering if I'll ever see it again. Fiber One, which is actually a lot better than it sounds, and damn it makes me regular. I don't always decide the night before, but I always savor the anticipation. Isn't this what life is really about? Something to enjoy, something to look forward to. Choices are many, but not unlimited. Some are good choices, some not so good. Too much of life is oh shit tomorrow I have to do this again, but this - this is oh yes tomorrow I get to do this again.</p> <p>(This is a response to a <a href="https://lauriepenny.substack.com/p/write-like-a-person-prompt-post-4">writing prompt</a> from <a href="https://lauriepenny.substack.com/">Laurie Penny</a>.)</p> 2026-01-25T00:00:00Z https://example.com/blog/911/ <p>I wake up groggy in California. It's way too early because I flew here from DC last night and my head is still on Eastern Time. This is my first night in the apartment my company rents for out-of-town visitors. It's nice, except no coffee. I walk over to the strip mall next door, though I doubt anything is open yet. Sure enough everything is still closed, the only sign of life a tractor-trailer delivering to a fast-food restaurant called Señor Jalapeño. As I approach, the truck driver is standing next to his open cab door with the radio up loud. He sees me and calls out, &quot;C'mere! You gotta hear this!&quot; A little wary, I come and stand next to him and listen. The radio repeats that a few minutes ago a plane hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center. Holy shit. Then, while we listen, the radio breathlessly breaks the news that another plane has hit the South Tower. The driver and I climb into the cab of his truck and sit and listen to the developing news for as long as we can before we both need to get to work. We wouldn't seem to have much in common, but in those moments together in the cab of his truck, we were brothers, shocked and mourning and scared and angry.</p> <p>(This is a response to a <a href="https://lauriepenny.substack.com/p/write-like-a-person-prompt-post-3">writing prompt</a> from <a href="https://lauriepenny.substack.com/">Laurie Penny</a>.)</p>