I know. I know it's been months and months. I don't even know if there are any of you still out there who'll read this.
I wish I had some grand, important reason for not writing (I got a book deal and I've been writing that! I took a 'Round-the-World cruise! I got a boob job and it was just too painful to reach the keyboard!), but the truth is that I just didn't want to.
I'm not sure that I really want to now. But I want to want to. I miss it. Mostly.
And I don't think it's the writing part that I miss. I think it's the YOU part. So I hope there are still some of YOU out there.
I'm...well, I'm lonely. Really lonely. And I felt less lonely when I wrote here nearly every day. I don't even know most of the people who would read and comment or send me e-mails, but that didn't matter. I was among people every time I hit publish.
I kind of want that again.
Now, a little business.
There is no winner of the Yarn Vagina Picture Contest. Well, there was, sort of, but it was none of you.
I tried to donate the $77 I'd promised, but Fisher House wouldn't accept a donation that small. (WTF, Fisher House? Money is money.) So, I went to the local Fisher House to see if there were any wish list items I could purchase for them instead. They needed a Pack-N-Play, so that's what I bought. All thanks to you, internets. They also needed some help with some yard work, so I helped with that for an hour one afternoon. I was talking to one of the volunteer directors as we weeded together, and I started to tell her about how I had been trying to raise money through ad revenue by giving away a knitted cowl. (I try not to say things like knitted vagina to elderly ladies I've just met. I'm classy like that.) Before I could get any further, she said, "Oh! I just love those! Do you know someone who could make one for me?" And the winner of the lovely blue yarn vagina was decided then and there. I brought it to her the next day. She loved it. And I spent the rest of the day feeling guilty for sending this sweet lady off into the world looking like tired, old labia. But she was a happy tired, old labia.
Also, I know I promised you a modesty rant. Luckily,
Sue's Epic Modesty Rant
Immodest Angels
How the Modesty Doctrine Hurts Men Too
Modest is Goddess
Fresh Meat
She's a Little Girl, for Crying Out Loud!
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