I lost my

It was inevitable. I had sat on my hands for the renewal of my domain and it lapsed. Then one of the domain farms snatched it up so they could charge me hundreds of dollars to get it back. So now I amin a quandary. Do I fight for my name or do I find another extension that works but not as well? 

I work in digital marketing, so I know the importance of a .com extension. It is the toppermost level you can get but is it important. Is there a difference between .com and .blog? Will someone come along and trump me in the future by claiming it when I become renowned and famous, a complete break from the events of the last ten years. 

I am annoyed with myself, because this is my name that I have used for a decade. I have changed it and changed it back again. It is my Twitter handle, I use it on Xbox, even my children know it. But now I have lost the digital superiority of it. 

Instead I will need to settle for something lesser.  

I am left with a and blogspot artifact in my address, but I need something that makes me feel like my place on the web is more permanent. I had it, and I wasted it. I feel into the familiar use it or lose it scenario.  

For reasons that may become clearer as the days pass, I was about to restart writing. This feels like a sign that I should close the book on this chapter of my creative life and find another outlet to take my mind from the world of charts and figures. 

I tried the fresh starts, I can see the history of my old domains, and none of them seemed to stick. I started as GeekErgoSum and this still is what I want to be known as. Other denominations have come and gone (RIP, and the rest) but this one stayed the course. 

It is me. 

Which is why I am going to be  


Like starting over again

After breaking the news to Mrs G I was deleting all my old posts, her first reaction was “why have you done that again?”

“Did you read what I wrote yesterday,”, I asked.

“No.” came the response. “I don’t look at your blog anymore as all you do is post old stuff.”

With this clean slate in front of me and the big question is what am I going to write about? The temptation is always there to descend back into my usual rants and perceived slights, but there is also a part of me which feels like I should write about things which interest me. I should begin writing about hobbies, about movies and games, and all the geeky things I intended to.

In the last three years since I was writing regularly I picked up plenty of new interests. I enjoy barbecuing, I’ve discovered I like whiskey. I’ve even started some craft-based hobbies like trying to sew.

My parenting has also come along now I have two sentient children.

All the panics and worries I had before evaporated. I have to educate and inform children who talk back to me, children who are sassy.

Children I’m also aware never asked to be all over social media

I’ve also learnt new things like how I like to work, how to be a better employee. I’ve even gone freelance and started my business.

I’ve even given up the entire Google ecosystem and become an Apple acolyte.

At night I’ve started to read books rather than websites.

Will the angry part of me disappear? I don’t think so. As I sat on the train listening the “tsh tsh” from someone‘s headphones the thought came to my mind was didn’t I write something in 2013 about this?

As I went to find the old post I stopped myself and realised, why don’t you just calm yourself by typing a new rant? Write a new piece that is different but also the same as what I did before.

The whole point of me removing all my old drafts was writing makes me feel better. It’s why I started blogging. It was to find an outlet for my stress and copying and pasting does not ease that.

So let’s get angry and geeky all over again. Maybe Mrs G will read this again?


Constant Reboot

I could call it a crisis, or call it a rehash. The reality is that I have rebooted this site so many times that I am in the process of uploading the same 300 words for the fourth or fifth time in an attempt to recreate that which has been lost.

As a new post appears, and new being a loose definition, Mrs G will wearily say:

I’ve read this before haven’t I?

Yes you have. I never seem to write anything new and continue to bask in old glories by reposting all the archived content I have saved.

Yesterday I dragged whatever I could find out of my drafts just to hit my streak. I’ll be honest it is not some of my best work. I think it was originally written back in 2013 when I was still typing any old thing that came to mind. It was the result of a ‘Daily Post’ prompt on senses.

In all likelihood it was something tapped out on a phone during a morning commute. It reads like a piece of hurried prose.

My recent posts are also a rehash. I am having to change references to how old my children are, and in some cases adding more than a couple of years to make sure they are up to date. I should admit that if a post is more than four years old should I be reposting it.

I restarted writing because I need an outlet for my boredom. Instead of doing anything new I’m just copying and pasting. Tidying up formatting is hardly the most engaging of hobbies.

The process of checking my old posts has also made me realise that I’m not quite the same person as the man who originally wrote them. There is a hint of aggression in my reaction to dating and ‘princesses’ that I’m now a little embarrassed by. Some of the attempts at pop culture are a little outdated (see The Nuclear Option) and there are plenty of references to events that are long gone (hello 2012 Mayan Apocalypse).

Why not delete them all and start again?

You may call it the worry of losing hundreds of hours I spent making them in the first place, or maybe the fear of starting again with a blank canvas.

In amongst the dregs are some good pieces I wrote. There are some long pieces, as well as original poems and artwork. These may be saved.

The rest.


Almost forgotten. I have saved the memory of their titles ready to go again. Who knows what “Borrowed from the Past” was originally about? I may end up recreating the wheel and doing the same thing, or perhaps take it in a whole new direction.

Whatever I decide to do this is going to be one of my famous lines in the sand that I end up crossing in a few months time.

No more reposts.

Just reboots.


Why Chilled Parents had to die

Or all things must end

It was going to be a new beginning. It was going to be what defined me. In the end it was another false dawn and the only solution was a digital fire.

After years of my digital identity being defined as a geek I was ready to move onto the next phase of life, being a parent. Just as though I refused to be 100% pigeon holed before I should have realised that once more I would balk at any classification.

I renamed all my accounts on social media, and even set up new domains. I was ready to begin anew but in the end my life as “chilled parent” was a summer night’s fling as once more I am living my life as Geek Ergo Sum.

So what happened?

Other than confusing some people as to:

  1. What Chilled Parent meant?
  2. What I was still doing blogging?

Well it was meant to be clever. Chilled as in:

  • Relaxed – because you should try to make parenting less stressful
  • Refrigerated – because some of the best drinks to cope with parenting are served cold.
  • Scared – because parenting is mostly terrifying.

As to why I was still doing this? That is harder to answer and not something I am sure I have a reason for. The simple version is why not? What else am I doing at night and why not try to eke out a space as a parenting influencer?

That was the reason it had to die. I chose a name with the aim of making something of writing, but that has never been the purpose for me jotting down a few hundred words. The moment you monetise a hobby it becomes a job and I already have one of those, but I struggle for activities to keep me occupied.

I quickly came to the realisation that I was never going to be 100% committed to just being a parent online, in the same way I am not 100% defined by my children in the real world. Yes they take up a substantial part of my life but I am more than just “dad”.

My old writing is what set me on a path to the life I lead now. It was the first thing Mrs G (much better than Mrs CP!) knew about me and survived weddings, house moves and childbirth. Now I’ve come to realise that I’ve not moved onto a new state of being, just evolved.

Chilled Parent never died.

I was never Chilled Parent in the first place.


We go again

Or starting over one more time

What brought me back? Was it the desire to reaffirm my place on the internet and once again spew my poorly written missives online? Maybe the creative urges spurred me into action. What if I told you it was something incredibly geeky, something quintessentially me.

It was being able use Google Analytics.

I’m meant to get angry being labelled a numbers guy, but it does something for me apparently because it has motivated me to write a blog post for the first time in nearly a year.

Well I think it’s a year, having once again razed this site to the ground I’m at post zero. In the meantime I’ve also gone through several rebrands (RIP Chilled Parents and something about tea) and some aborted attempts to make my writing more professional.

But this was always confessional not professional.

That was the case nearly 10 years ago when I first registered this domain and remained the case for so long. In that time I have become less miserable, less lonely and less likely to open a note and begin typing.

So why come back?

Why indeed?

Maybe it is because I spend so much time with quantitive data that I need something more qualitative in my life. Mrs G (remember her) has her hobbies but I’ve settled into doing stuff to fill up the time.

I parent.

I clean the house.

I then sit around waiting for bedtime.

The lack of a creative outlet is starting to eat at me, so I’m returning to the keyboard to start over writing again. Things are the same as they were but time has also changed me.

Since I last seriously wrote the world has been politically on fire, so I’m no longer as concerned with how aggressive my views are (while still being respectful and avoiding the nastiness of “telling it like it is”). I’m less upset with my poor grammar and phrasing, I write what I write.

Yet I’m more aware of the impact on my kids, I’ve become a little more sensitive to their depiction and appearance. This is true not just here, but I feel I have a responsibility for their privacy…to a point.

So here’s to the return of side notes in parentheses, to overuse of ellipsis and my regular use of passive voice.