I’ve given a lot of thought to that post I wrote earlier this week about the incident in the car, as well as read several of the very personal posts by other bloggers on related themes. This week was the weirdest blogging week EVAH for me! All sorts of people came to my blog, including strangers and drive-by commenters who will never return. If I didn’t get back to you, it is because I was overwhelmed. Thanks for all the emails, etc. — even the crazy ones.

In a good way, this is what blogging is all about (or at least what it used to be about before it became about giveaways, self-promotion, and social media) — sharing personal stories. All the other stuff – at least in my heart – doesn’t even deserve to be called blogging. Whenever I see a list of blogs that “I need to read,” I immediately know that I don’t need to read them.

Now back to ME, because that is what this blog is about, right?

Someone sent me an email, forgiving me for this event, writing that “You am clearly not the same person as you were back then.”

This gave me a slight chuckle. Despite the attempts at literary semiotic brain-washing that were attempted in my Contemporary Civilizations college seminar at Columbia, I AM THE SAME PERSON — in more ways than you know — as I was in high school. I’m just not in high school anymore.

And frankly, I wasn’t a trouble-maker in high school who was later reformed. I was the most polite, overly-sensitive, liberal-oriented person imaginable, who used to send letters to the Prime Minister of Japan to stop killing whales!

After I read this email, I had a “Eureka” moment, less about my days in high school, than about my own blog — in the present. For five years, I have been complaining about my blog, saying that it was formless, and without a theme. I have been jealous of your niche blogs, particularly those that revolved around parenting. Bu sometimes, things are so obvious that you don’t see them until the hammer falls on your head. I HAVE had a theme… right from the first day…

I don’t exactly remember why I named this blog “Citizen of the Month.” Something about my self-image. In elementary school, I was nominated as Citizen of the Month more times than the Yankees won the World Series. Even the icon I chose in the header is a boy scout-ish boy. This is how I see myself. My political-oriented posts tend to be about gay rights and women’s issues. I run community-oriented events like the interview experiment and the holiday concert. I write a lot about my MOTHER! Yes, I even love my mother!

But if you really look through my archives, what do you also see? Exactly. A whole lot of posts about f**king women! Aggressive conversations with my testy, demanding, over-educated cock! Fantasies about waitresses in Colombian diners. Sex thoughts about Jewish women, black women, Asian women — my liberal ideology spills over into my crazy imaginary sex life — I am a multi-ethnic, uni-faith sex machine!

Why didn’t I see this before? This HAS BEEN MY THEME. I am a Citizen of the Month, but about a do-good boy who wants to help a woman carry her packages across the street, and then politely ask to see her naked!

You realize that I am joking. And not joking.

I’m not sure I’ll continue on with this theme forever — it is getting old — but it feels good to be able to sit back and finally get when is going inside my head. You are mommybloggers. Or you write about social media. Or you write about depression. For five years, I have been writing to a mostly female audience about my internal conflict between my boy scout-ish, respectful Citizen of the Month world view, and my love of p*ssy.

Welcome to my world. Now I can finally write the book!