Ok, so I missed the Blogathon cut off date. So, I won't be blogging with IBOM this year, just with TPC, which is fine because I felt bad about leaving Pran in a lurch anyhow. (Actually, she terrified me into not doing it with IBOM, she said something about twine, a stick of butter, and jumper cables.)


So, that's that. Next year however I hope to have better luck pulling off my gimmic with this blog (TPC's gimmic is giving stuff away, which is more like blantant bribery then a stunt, but you got to go with what your public wants right?), which was a damn good one. Until then, you'll just have to live in suspense.


In other news today, the spiders have returned, and I believe they have run off with the big stick I kept propped up on my garage for the sole reason of whacking down their sticky little webs of evil. Maybe they're hiding it until their strange little powers grow to the point they can bean me over the head with it as payback. You can't try and convince me that they're not plotting against me...I've heard the little squeeks late at night, I know they want me dead or otherwise horribly maimed and scarred for life.


I don't like spiders. I don't. More then I don't like ants, and I really don't like ants. Damn spiders.


It's a lovely Sunday outside...I'm not sure what my plans are. I went to Salem's Art Fest yesterday, but someone wants me to go with them again today so I might (I also went to the Saturday Market, but didn't buy anything. I wanted to go see the Highland Games but nobody would go with me, I hate going to things alone.)...or I might go to the river. Or I might just sit here, and sit. Out of all of them sitting sounds the best so far. Oh sitting, how I love thee.