And, figuratively:

Where are you?
I'm pleased with how

this one turned out:

Who are you?
'S gonna be

a long day.
Another day,

another manager.
Snow days

when you're a grown-up

are marvelous.
I know you were dying

to know that.

Callouses itch!
Jeremy reminds me

that it takes extra conviction

to protest in a Chicago winter.

It's easy to be indignant

in a t-shirt.

I won.
I'm always the last to know:

Google bought Blogger.
What we

did today

with 10,000 friends.
Playing bocce

on my birthday.

(They creamed us.)
Bill Goldman,

author of The Princess Bride,


You Can Count On Me,

for what it's worth.

My microwave

has a mute button!

All of my dreams

have been fulfilled.

Ever devise the perfect meme

and then realize you only

remembered it?

At least there's Google,

to save you the embarrassment.
News websites

design as if

newsprint is expensive.
Oh, look.

I have a blog.

Where did that come from?
Mental success:

Climbed an actual route,

sticking to just

the green-marked holds.

5.7 -- Woo hoo!

Also: Ow.
Oh, man.

We're running out of characters.

But then,

two I'd thought were done for

And another character died,

by the way,

for those following along

at home.
I bow in reverence


for the gifts I've been given,

too numerous

and too ethereal

to be listed.
This is not news:

I have wonderful friends.

I am a lucky, lucky

Sherbirfday Girl.

And now they're home.


Swell visit. Much eating.

And much hugging.