Once, when I was a young and punk kid, I got into a fight with my parents and ran away. I only made it across the street and three branches into a tree. My sister was sent out as the diplomat (to negotiate and allow me to maintain my dignity). After being reassured that my family would miss me if I decided to live in the tree permanently, which was, in my mind, a realistic option, I climbed down, cried a little, and came back in for dinner.
We’re sorry America. We had a little blog freak out. We climbed a few branches into an internetless tree and refused to get down. As soon as we got up there, we were lonely and missed you. We hoped that a diplomat might come and tell us we were missed too.
We checked our email today and found this:
“Why don’t you blog? First you leave your fans for months at a time, then you
don’t write in detail about what you’re doing. Are you cheating on us with East
Coast fans?? I can’t believe we trusted you. It’s so over. Wait, no, I’m
sorry baby, I only said that cause I was angry. I take it all back. Except
that you should blog”
Thank you, anonymous fan, for getting us through our freak out. America, we’re back, and we’ll be with you till the turkey hits the table.