They put my name on a Red Sox jersey

The surest sign on a blog approaching (or reapproaching in this case) than sequential posts that begin with an apology for not updating recently.

So screw you guys, I’m not apologizing for nothing!

There that should save me.

I suck, I know. But cut me a little slack please. I’ve been busy lately. No busier than you I’m sure and not even any busier than me normally. I’ve just been pissier than usual about it and therefore allowed myself more slacking than I would before.

Plus I’m making up for a lifetime being a nerd but not knowing how to play Magic the Gathering or anything like it.

Now that my little delve into the endless pity party that is the Blogosphere, let me really crank it up a notch.

I’m down. I’m super down. I look around my life and I feel like I do when I log into Netflix, completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices surrounding me. But with my life, instead of endless kung fu movies, hilarious cartoons and stand up comedy specials, it’s endless things I need to do, clean or fix before my life gets completely over run by Chinese People.

By this time two months from now, there will be 4 Chinese people, completely outnumbering me and the American halves of my two children.

So I’m trying to get my house presentable to my inlaws and my new daughter. I know babies shouldn’t care about where you bring them home to, but last time I felt nothing but judgment as the little guy would look around at his surroundings.

I don’t need that crap from my daughter.

To make things worse, the other day while I was trying to relax by Googling myself (don’t laugh, that joke is overplayed and you know it) and I discovered quite possibly the worst thing that I’ve ever learned.

I’m not the only Steve Shinny in the world.

I’m sure you’re as pissed as I am.

Whenever I’ve Googled myself in the past, I’ve been treated to a pleasant walk down self-absorbed memory lane with old columns, podcasts and guest appearances. Now I get reminded that I’m am not a unique snowflake, nothing I do really matters and someone else has my friggin’ name.

Oh, and the crappy icing on this sucky cape, it turns out this guy isn’t anything of worth like a sarcastic know-it-all or preemptive movie critic. He’s just some kind of big hero guy who saved a bunch of people in Boston after the marathon bombing.  

So that’s why I’m so pissy. You can read all about the big jerk over here and here.

But I’m the real Steve Shinney.