How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Many of you wrote to check on me during my extended vacation from the blogworld, and for that I’m grateful. However, I’m on too much of a squishy high over my new-friend crush on Coaster Punchman to write an intelligent, interesting post, so instead I’m going to address some of the rumors that swirled during my e-disappearance.

• I did not spend the summer traveling Europe with R.E.M. Dammit.

• I did not steal Peter Buck’s Rickenbacker.

• My looking into that house down the street is not the straw that broke the financial camel’s back. I don't think ...

• I didn’t win the lottery. Dammit.

• I am not the reason why David Duchovny checked into that sex-addict rehab clinic. But he’s going to be in town next month shooting a movie, so maybe I can work in a relapse.

• I am not among the seven people who actually paid to see The Love Guru. I may have been absent, but I still have taste.

• Obama didn’t fist-bump me hard enough to bruise my typing hands. Dammit.

• I did not sneak off to have a baby, although I was spotted walking around with a blanket covering my pudgy midsection.

• I may have stalked Dale. But just a bit.

• I didn’t track down Kid Rock to kick his ass for ruining a perfectly good Warren Zevon song. But I’m considering it.

• I did not knock Noel Gallagher on his bum.

• I didn’t see any concerts, except for Kathy Griffin. Dammit.

I will fill you in what I did during my summer vacation, so check back. Regular posting is back, baby!

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A Doctor’s Note

Nope, I haven’t run off to stalk Michael Stipe. Nor have I gone all Luddite on you. Or died.

I have blogger’s elbow. My right elbow aches like a mutha-(shut your mouth!) these days, thanks to long hours spent writing in my cubicle. It hurts when I’m in the keyboard position, so I’ve been staying away from Al Gore’s Internet in the evenings.

For those of you who haven't read the entire Cup chronicles, during daylight hours I’m a corporate communicator — which means I write newsletters and annual reports, announcements and posters, reports and presentations, anything that needs to be read by my coworkers. Translation: I write a lot.

Yeah, I know; lame excuse. But at least you get free music every Friday. Watch for my triumphant return to the blogworld — here and in your comment boxes — in the coming days.

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