After Moving (Read: Fighting) for Hours

There comes a time in all of our lives that we are required to make changes.

----- Original Message -----
From: Cassie
Date: May 26, 2007 8:41:22 AM PDT
To: Tony

Hey Tony-- I just read your latest blog entry, and I really think you should switch your blog to blogger or wordpress or vox so that we can all leave lovely comments on your entries.
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Change (begrudgingly) made.

'After Fighting' has moved. Its old home was foreclosed upon a couple of weeks ago. Its new home is at Blogger, which I am happy about, but it hasn't come without moving pains.

A couple of weeks ago, while attempting to post, I realized I was unable to upload to the server (owned by the University I used to attend) I had been using (perhaps bumming is the right word) to house my blog. I don't know how the University found out about this (I blame Ernesto) or why the University cared that I was using their server space, but at any rate, I was kicked out.

Ernesto. (Also a representation of how my attitude when I learned I would have to move my blog.)

Not that a move wasn't long overdue, it is just that I wasn't ready to find a new place. Perhaps I would have never been ready to move, that the only way I would have moved was to be evicted from the space I was using. So do I blame Ernesto? Or do I forget about the fighting (for hours) and move on, set up a new shop, and continue posting?

Obviously I have done the latter. It has taken hours (many of them fighting) to learn the code behind blogger so that 'After Fighting' could look similar to its prior appearance (I proceed with an impulse to hold onto the past, with my penchant for all things European, particularly European memory), and more importantly, so that it didn't look like one of those "right out of the box" templates used in countless blogs (queer survival lays in artifice, in decorating, syntax, couture, in short, having voice: the realm of taste).

But, I have digressed into another (future) conversation.

Why complain about an event that already happened? You can’t change the past, all you have left is the future. We can either loathe our predicament and become caught up in it, or move on. To make the best of the future you might have to disregard the tragic past and make things work, because they have to.

And so in true existential fashion After Fighting for Hours is (re)born, named in honor of a poem by Kate Gleason and written like Pliny, the ancient author, did.

Needless to say, this is the new home of After Fighting for Hours. I will be attempting to migrate the entire blog in the upcoming months. For now, you can see all of my old posts here.