I've gone away, don't call me, don't write

I just banged out my first news story since...

I don't remember the last one I did. Probably because it was for The Rutherford and I had to poke a few extra Q-tips into my ears to get rid of those particular memories. Spank you very much.

The feeling is exhilirating. I'd forgotten how nice it is to learn about a community issue and work to present both sides of an argument. My sources were all quite helpful, probably because I'm not a student or living in a town full of students. Or maybe it's because my voice has matured and sounding like Barry White's grandmother is better than sounding like a five-month-old kitten. Although I bet if Barry White's grandmother had a kitten it would sound pretty terrific.

Yesterday I applied for this. If I get it, I will no doubt bask in the glow of triumph and terror. Yeah, those two cast a glow. It's kind of pink. Not like congrats-on-your-baby-girl pink, but more like I-ate-a-whole-pomegranate-and-now-feel-sick pink. I would not relocate to Wisconsin on a permanent basis, if you're wondering. I adore my seaside town. I adore my special, special boyfriend, who sent the package for me and remains positive that we could fly back and forth with ease. Our relationship, I believe with all my heart, would stay strong.