Weekend whoopee windin' down

I had a really good time Friday night. What?

Before I got on all this anniversary crap, heart-warming blah blah, and keepin' my tits out of the frame, I had the opportunity to meet a friend of a friend who is indirectly responsible for my blogging addiction. She alerted my friend Julia to the fact that a blog called Dooce existed, and that it must be read with regularity, lest one's life continue to be the empty shell of a sham inside a hollow mockery. Julia ran straight to me after reading a post dealing with reconvening the procedure, and I have been hooked since that very moment. And, like a billion other bloggers, I read Dooce and decided I could park my weird shit online and somebody would actually care enough to look at it, and oh, shit, actually comment on it! I've made a lot of what I would consider friends in the blogging community, have forged strong ties with some of you, and have had a whale of a time pickin' at my siblings in front of everybody. And blogging itself, even if nobody came on here and made a peep, has become a better release than I could have ever hoped. I consider the experience overwhelmingly positive.

So, I had the opportunity to have lunch with Julia's friend, Courtney, last Thursday, and I had the chance to thank her in person. She seems like such a nice girl, but I know evil must dwell in some corner of her heart if she is a Dooce devotee. Courtney, if you're lurkin' here, it was very cool to meet you, but everybody also knows who to blame now, too. Just so's you know.