Scratch That

Last Friday (see below), I put up a post in which I pointed out my failure to remember my own blog anniversary, and went on to say that, despite my forgetfulness, my planned post on Allen Baron's Blast of Silence would nevertheless be forthcoming. And it is. But obviously my hoped-for Saturday posting date has come and gone, as has Sunday, and Monday. And now, Tuesday, as well.

Nobody wants to hear my excuses, but I do apologize to anyone who cared to read it. It is coming, and will be the next substantial piece I write -- it's just that my return to work, and subsequent two-day training, which involved a lot of walking on my part (never mind why), has just worn me out. I'm all out of my rhythm. Is that an excuse? Whatever, it's true.

But I am sorry, and I hope to have something up very soon. I refuse to promise anything for tomorrow, though, because we can see how much promises mean to me, apparently. Still, last night I started re-watching Blast of Silence and, if anything, it's even better than I remembered. I intended to watch the whole thing, but felt my eyelids rapidly closing. I'll finish it tonight, but this training I'm dealing with isn't the usual kind, which means I can't zone out for long stretches and begin writing blog posts in my head. No, I have to actually pay attention (there's a test and everything). Tomorrow isn't out of the question, but Thursday seems more likely. In any case, it has to go up by then, because I'll be out of town this weekend.

Let's see, what else should I tell you about myself that hold no interest for anyone? Um...I had some crab rangoon today. It was delicious. And there's a place in Virginia Beach, a video store, that was having a seven-for-$20 DVD sale, and I found nothing of interest there. So that should tell you something.