You know, it's the rat race, and you're going a million miles an hour, and with all that domestic strife and international strife and strife in the domestic-foreign middle, and you know, strife, you don't even have time to remember it's your blog's birthday.
Now I have to deal with the fallout. I didn't get the blog anything. And since I'm posting this *at* the self-same blog, I can't go on and make up some hackneyed story about how that was intentional, and I was gonna wait for the weekend, or I thought we weren't doing the acknowledge-your-birthday thing anymore, or whatever. Blog will know! Oh crap. I've said too much!
But dear, I'm sincere now, you don't look a day over 1. Your 291,000 page views is respectable. Your bi-coastal identity is still in tact. Not to mention your cross-border identity. Dual citizenship, eh? You like that? I added "eh." That was for you, blog.
Oh gosh. Can you believe it? It's like, we were just posting our clip lists here (ooh, and here, yes -- funny, we never updated those), and I didn't know what < strong > or < /br> did. And I didn't find out how to open a page in a new window until maybe our 8 month anniversary? You remember that? Of course you do, of course. We laughed. We've laughed a lot. And met boingboing, what was it, 2, 3 times? He was nice. That was nice.
But it hasn't all been laughs. No, it hasn't all been laughs. There was the time we ran the Science Spring Showdown and just sorta gave up near the end. There was that guy who was pissed at the Puzzle Fantastica? Remember him? We had to get a restraining order. Not fun. Oh dear, and our interns. Where have they gone? Like wildflower spores in the wind, they've floated to the ends of the earth, far far away from us. And they were the only ones who appreciated your forced rhetorical flourishes.
We have each other. It's your birthday and we have each other.
That's my gift to you. Seal it with a kiss.
And now I must sign off as you knew I would.
With a love that will echo through the ages.
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