It's been a while since I wrote an all-out blog. I hadn't even realized how damn long it had been until I was surfing around on Giant Bomb today. Holy shit, where does the time go?

It's been a long few months of constant shit to take care of, but such is the way of life, right? My girlfriend and I have finally moved in together. She wanted to move in earlier, but I have a staunch rule of "only after six months together." Everything takes six months, ya know? When you first get roommates and think "this is going to be awesome," it turns out six months later that they are slobs and piss you off to no end. Six months is about the time where pregnancy (at least I'm told) seems to be coming to its biggest challenges and obstacles, but closer than ever to the final days. Six months is how long it takes to cycle through two seasons. A lot happens within six months, and so we are now at this point.

It's weird. VERY weird. I've never lived alone before, let alone with a girlfriend. This is a first in my life, and while that's sad to admit at 31 years old, I also never wanted to rush into moving in with someone that I was in love with. It needed to grow and blossom. I needed to know that she would be able to live with my hyper-critical bullshit enough and dish it back out as well. Luckily, she does just that.

Alongside that time, I've also taken a deeper interest in cooking. Maybe it's because of the MasterChef marathons that seem to run off the Roku in our apartment on a fairly regular basis, but cooking has always been a passion of mine. I can't make the perfect buttered crab or whatever, but I can grill up some tilapia like no other!

Part of the renewed interest in cooking is because...well...I'm not lazy anymore. I got sick of being fat, and as I looked at my girlfriend every night and realized that she is it...she's the one, I knew I needed to be around as long as possible. Therefore, for the last two or three months, I've been hitting the gym. I'm not talking about some 30-day challenge shit or even just a "go to the gym two times a week" shit. I'm going five times a week minimum, and it's not exercise: it's training. Hellcentrics, high-weight low-rep, low-weight high-rep, deadlifts, squats (ass to grass, muthafucker), inclines, declines... If you name it, I've been doing it. So far, in the last two or three months, I've dropped at least two pant sizes, about 30 pounds, gained muscle, my traps are getting big, and I feel great. I FEEL great. I don't feel like I'm huffing and puffing. Because of the change in my diet to all-natural foods (no sodas for seven months now, no high fructose corn syrup for four months, everything is fresh cooked rather than processed foods), I have felt like a new man. My acid reflux doesn't fuck with me anymore. It's an amazing change, and one that I've felt incredibly inspired to both share with people and try to get them involved in.

My girlfriend and I also recently added a new member to our little family. His name is Connery, and he's about 9 weeks old. Oh...and he's a cat. I've never been much of a cat person, but my girlfriend begged and begged to get a cat. I finally gave in on the condition that he would be neutered ASAP and that if he clawed me at any point, I would declaw him. So far, he's fucking awesome. He's a daredevil, a cute fuzzball, and a goofy bastard. He likes to nap on my keyboard while I'm trying to play games, but he's finally getting to the point where he'll sleep on my lap while I'm playing a game. Just...ya know...he freaks out a little when I die on League of Legends...because I freak out a little when I die on League of Legends.

So...overall, there's not a lot of gaming talk here. I've been playing the shit out of Warframe and Marvel Heroes. That's about it.

Hope everyone is doing well, and thanks for reading.