6 months and 11 days

Right, it's after midnight, so supposedly, if I'm coherent (and hey, that's never been proved, so cut me some slack, all right), today's the first day of the rest of my life as my new me. Mentally speaking, anyway. Mentally. Heh.
Amazingly, this is also the 6-months-and-11-days anniversary of this here site AND the day I turn 32. Today. Ugh. I don't want "happy birthdays" and stuff, because I don't like birthdays. Mine anyway. But there is something I really wanted to say, and it's a big fat thank you (I would have written it in colour, but that would have been a bit heavy, eh?), for reading this, all this often disjointed stuff that pours out of this troubled mind of mine... Ever since I started this blogging affair, I haven't stopped marveling at the fact that people actually come over and read this. And, let's face it, I love the fact that I have a cult following. It flatters me in all the right places.
Shush. The fact that I don't want "happy birthdays" and all doesn't mean I can't be deluded and think that I have a cult following, 'kay? Plus, I'm changing my outlook on life as of today, so that means that starting Wednesday, 17 August 2005, the world is my oyster, the sky is the limit, and whatever else fits that wonderful description of life as I want it to be. So I have a cult following, and that's that.
I can hear the letters of offer pouring into my mailbox as I type, the phone lines are down due to the multitude of calls that are trying to connect for interview purposes, don't bother playing Loto tonight because I'm winning the lot, and Jeff Goldblum and George Clooney are fighting a fight to the death right now, the winner getting to write my name on a pre-nup. Guys. Guys! Try not to mess up those pretty faces of yours too much, OK?
Oh how I love a good fight.