Oh you, my darling Guilty Pleasure chipmunk*, let’s talk. Grab a chair drink. Can I just tell you something? I’ve been struggling with whether or not I should’ve emailed you at your personal email address when you subscribed to my blog. I wanna write and say, “Thank you. You’ve totally validated my existence and if you’re ever in Jersey I’ll be glad to make you dinner and let my dog lick your face raw,” but it seems like that might be a bit too intrusive. (In case I’ve worried anyone, if you’ve written me to thank me for subscribing to your blog, I was thrilled.)
Related to this, I wrote a very silly post back in April (2 months after I started this blog) which I intended to post should I ever catch that rare, Freshly Pressed unicorn (i.e., get featured on the home page of wordpress.com). Well, shockingly, I did wrangle the majestic, one-horned beast this week -when I least expected it, natch, and had long given up caring too much about it- but the post was sarcastic and clouded the true gratitude and humility I felt in responding to the exciting flurry of sweet comments.
So, lest there be ANY doubt how I feel about you, and by you I mean those who’ve ever read, and/or continue to read, my little blog, and share your lovely, hilarious thoughts (so yeah, this means YOU! Right now! You!):
*I love chipmunks. So much. This is the greatest compliment I know how to give. Besides sharing my Reese’s peanut butter cups. Or my vodka. No, no. Sorry. I got carried away. Paws off the Smirnoff.
Go Jules Go 