When the birthday season ends, Dawn Summers vanishes for a bit. She must restore the ratio of hermit isolation to attention whoring. Nothing absolute, just cutting way back on the blogging, texting, tweeting, emailing, facebooking, and leaving my house-ing.
As always, I had a great birthday season. Reading this post reminded me how lucky I am to know
all most of you.
But after something like five sustained weeks of the birthday season, I am even sick of myself, so we’re Desmond Tutu-ing for a bit…probably till September. Unless the Mets overtake first place in the NL…hahaha, yeah, so September.
Don’t worry, I’ve already lined up an all-star team of Poetry Wednesday guest bloggers and I’m sure Libearace will post some more production numbers. He is one talented bear. And I’ll still be your expert source on animals trying to kill us.
As for Dawn, she’ll be hibernating/hanging out with young Sammy and the people who, even when they are sick of her, are tethered to her by blood. Poor bastards. She’ll also be catching up on her movie watching and filmchaw blogging (I met the one person who reads my reviews!) Blockbuster has been all cocky these last two months, we must put it back in its place. That place being bankruptcy.
I’ve got a toddler birthday, a trip or two to AC, huffing my Droid X power source and ill-advised emotional cutting to occupy my time. Plus, a shit ton of books to get through. Angela gives quizzes. (Speaking of which, do you want to read with us? Join our invisible internet friends bookclub…no, not you, but you? Get on over here and grab a virtual beanbag.)
Enjoy the radio silence…while you can, cause it will soon be followed by lots and lots of…
And now, for your moment of Zen…