Well, the week (and a day) is up and I have returned to the bosom of my blogging-buddies. If I’m not totally back on top of the world, I am at least approaching the summit. Thank you again for all the emails and lovely comments you’ve left me – it’s always nice to know that there are people around that care.
To cut a long story short, the CC and myself have decided to call it a day. Whilst I know of long-distance relationships that work, in our case it was just too hard and not fair on either of us. So that’s the whole grizzly story behind why I decided to hide for a week (and a day). Sad, but not end-of-the-world kind of stuff. I am a bit embarrassed at how it knocked me for six actually, but there you are – it happened, it’s over, I went a bit girly and pathetic for a while, but it’s done with now. Time to look to the future and all that rot.
😛
In other news, I hadn’t realised how much time I spent thinking about/working on the blog till I took a rest from it for a week. Even then I was checking for new comments almost compulsively during the day and clearing out the Akismet queue with monotonous regularity (what is it about Bright Meadow that makes spam-bots think it is a perfect target for a certain sort of unsavory porn?). Not posting meant I wasn’t getting new comments, and I hadn’t realised how much I enjoyed checking to see what had been added overnight till there wasn’t anything to check 🙁 (Hint, hint, Cas needs cheering up so get commenting! 😉 )
So, back to the blogging with a vengeance. I’ve got lots of lovely posts lined up, more installments of the Bright Cast, and oodles upon ooooodles*1* of wonderful things that I found on the Web and want to share with you all. Hold on your hats, people!
Endnotes:
1. I just love the word ooooodles. Don’t you?
“Oodles” always reminds me of Hannibal Lecter…
Well that’s just completely ruined a happy word for me…
Sorry 🙁
*hugs* I’m sorry, darlin.
Ok, thank you both very much but enough! You’re gonna make me cry, and I’ve had my week of feeling sorry for myself. Now it is time to move on to pastures greener. It’s not as if my pet gerbil died now, is it? Not that I even have a pet gerbil, but you get where I’m going.
As my wonderful Mum said on the phone just now “at least you don’t have to feel guilty about flirting any more”. *rolleyes*
Just to set the record straight, I’ve never felt guilty about flirting, though it has had some hilarious consequences a time or three (I seem to remember a getting drenched with a bucket of water on one occasion…) There is nothing wrong with some harmless flirting if it makes a gal, or guy, feel happy.
Uh, in the middle of that diversion onto flirting (I believe I’ll stop flirting the day I die and not before) I was trying to make a point – I will be fine. Yes, it is sad, but who knows what is waiting for me around the corner?
Not me… but I really hope it’s not a mad, machette wielding gerbil.
I hate those guys.
But gerbils are so small – easy to deal with!
Imagine if it was a mad, machette wielding penguin. Now that would be scary.
Though how a penguin (or gerbil for that matter) could grip a machette…
maybe if they used velcro?
maybe they’re teenage mutant ninja penguins?
Moose – LOL. With sweatbands?
RIB – still, their mutation would have to include opposable thumbs to grip the machettes. And how did they get to be mutated in the first place?
Hey, I’m no nuclear physicist. Who am I to question how man’s perversion of nature works? Personally I would’ve gone with frikkin’ laser beams.