She Sits On a Throne of Lies

Pardon the interruption.

Before I begin, I need to deal with the situation of my jeans, which are currently en fuego.

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So, um. To the three whole people that follow this blog... Happy anniversary?

In the illustrious words of my second-favorite J.Taylor (space Thomas being the first, duh): Be it winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you gotta do is call.

(No, I mean it. Call, because there's little to no chance I will see any comments or responses to this blog. It's already been a year, guys.)

Luckily this gal has the power of a Blogger app, a brief spot of cell service on the Northeast Regional, and the soul-crushing punishment of being seated next to a young man. A young man steadily consuming a Chipotle burrito bowl. A young man steadily consuming a chicken Chipotle burrito bowl on a Friday in Lent. (Are you there, God? It's me, Colleen. Is this punishment for my year-long writing drought?)

Woof.

Still: The new year brings new promise, yes? And I have you, dear, faithful reader, to thank. You, who have weathered this desolate Blogger landscape. You, who indulge my madness, reincarnating this blog once in a Blue-Moon-happy-hour. You, who will inevitably fall somewhere after God, family, and Cheez-its in my Emmy acceptance speech.

Thanks.

Now, go get some pie, alright? Last year's Dandy Warhol anthem was unwittingly apropos.

I have a Neptune reunion to attend.