Dear John,

By the time you read these lines, I’ll be gone.

Well, I’m not really gone.  Just over here.  So stop crying.

It’s a wee bit sad, really, this moving.  Just a tiny bit.  Kind of like when you live in your first apartment, all cozy and tiny and there’s no dishwasher and it only takes an hour to clean all 800 square feet…I’ll miss that.  Except for the no dishwasher thing.  That sucks.  So you move to your new, bigger and fancier apartment, maybe with a spare bedroom, with a shiny dishwasher and a veranda.  That’s me now, except my veranda is a cork board.  But you’ll never forget your first place, filled with memories, like all the talks of boogers and zits.  But I bet I still talk about that at my new place.  Yeah, scenery changes, but the furniture stays the same.

Also, it doesn’t snow on my new blog.  I’ll miss that.  I could probably make it snow on my new blog, but it would require learning a whole new scary language.  Called HTML.  It’s supposed to be fun and exciting.  Really I just feel like I’m on a blind date with a deaf person who grew up in India.  I’m sure he’s cool, but we just don’t communicate.  Except for high fives.  And the universal sign for choking.

So anyways, I’m over here.  Ooh!  And Adventures with Edward is over here.  Yep, he’s got his own digs now.  He’s just too big to live solely in my handbag.  I think his minute fame is making his plastic head swell.

So change your feed reader thingies, switch your blogrolls, or just come over and see my new crib.  I’ve got post its!