It can’t teach you how long you’re supposed to cook a hot pocket for.

I looked.

Can anyone find that? If you do, I’ll give you a cookie. I just guessed. It worked. However, I’m jaded now.

I’ll never think about the internet the same again.

Update: I was given an address by two separate people in IRC moments ago.

So, I guess only hotpockets.com leaves me disillusioned.

(Thanks to Sakeri and Stark!)

No, it’s not about how long it’s been since I posted.

It’s about my daughter, Kaylie. I’ve mentioned her before – in this post. She’s now 7 years old. I haven’t seen her since November, 2001. Not once. I hadn’t talked to her since she was 3 years old.

I finally talked to her today. It was, ultimately, bittersweet. When you reach the day you’ve been yearning for, for years – and she speaks, offhandedly, about “her daddy”- and she isn’t talking about you; a little piece of you dies. A very well-buried piece, but a piece that hasn’t surfaced in a long time. You can kid yourself – you can be told that she calls someone else daddy – but until you hear it, you can lie to yourself.

I can’t lie to myself anymore. It hurts. It hurts so badly that I’d like to just curl up on the bed and got to sleep until morning. It’s only 6:30. It doesn’t matter. I still want to. Writing helps, sometimes. It lets you exorcise some of the things you can’t get your mind off of, and get back to a semblance of normalcy. I don’t know if it will help, but I might as well try.

Don’t get me wrong. I was ecstatic that I finally got to talk to her. I still am, really. It’s just heartbreaking. It’s that sucker punch that you don’t see coming, can’t fend off, and can’t escape. I’m just rambling now, I guess.

I’ll have to live with it. I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to enjoy it. I just have to love her.

I always have, always will, and do so with all my heart. One day I’ll hear her call me daddy again. Whether here, or in heaven, it will happen.

Yeah, I’m being a bit transparent today. I’ll live. I’ll even smile, later. I have a wife who loves me, and children around me.

There’s always that piece of my heart that resides wherever she does, though. She’s my firstborn, and her daddy’s little girl. Even if she doesn’t know it. That’ll have to be enough for me. God knows. God loves me. God is merciful. God have mercy on me, a sinner.

Maranathah.

No, it isn’t what you think.

Outspoken and antagonistic skeptic John Loftus locked horns with the outspoken and antagonistic Christian apologist Frank Walton in CADRE’s comment section. The irony?

The post was concerning whether atheists are persecuted or not, with BK condemning the hint of any such practice.

Neither person involved in the fracas were especially gracious. It looks as if there’s plenty of history between the two – but here’s a tip: Don’t let it spill into the comment section of other people’s blogs.

It’s not especially polite.

Well, the theme is almost finished completely. If you’ve been coming here a while, you’ll notice I have quite a few blocks on the left hand side missing. I’m isolating code, and I’ll fix them when I get time.

So, can I get some feedback on it? How does it look? Anything you’d change, if it were you?

Maybe I can start doing some actual posting soon – but that would involve a cessation of tweaking – and I’m a perfectionist!

Hope to hear from you.

Not quite perfect, but much closer than before.

I like it.

Left to go:

Header
Javascript expander conversion

Etc.

Whatcha think? I’m pretty sure most of you can read it now, at least.

“We take no position on Scripture or theology or morals,” said Donna Bott, a leader of a group called Episcopal Voices of Central Florida, which sponsored the meeting. “We are just Episcopalians.”

Great. Don’t takea position of theology – or Scripture. Just “be” your denomination.

Right.

Link.

Absurd? Oh yes.

(HT: crewbear, #prosapologian)