100

Aye, it's true.  I've somehow managed to blab my way senselessly to my 100th post (that's C posts, for our ever-growing number of Roman readers).  A milestone such as this normally is honored with a retrospective, or something equally endearing, and perhaps a plaque or something forever memorializing this achievement.

That's not going to happen.

I had all kinds of ideas for this post, each seemingly dumber and more trite than the last.  Then I was going to do some highlights of the last year+, with lots of links and all, but that seemed a bit redundant. [Although, Jake, I did go back and read that story of the flight over. I'd forgotten how funny that was.  Thanks for the reminder.]


All of that aside, I've been thinking a lot today about the blog, and what it is, and what it means to me, and it really boils down to this:

I started this as a way to keep in touch with the people important to me, no matter where I am, and no matter where they are, and in a medium that's more accessible to a group than just emails, less constricting and busy than Facebook, and more interactive than a standard web page.  And given (or maybe in spite of ) the usually senseless content, lack of focus, and shallowness of meaning in my posts, I think this blog has exceeded all my expectations.

So to all of you who have been here since Post #1, and to those of you who got on this crazy ride at some other station, thanks.

Thanks for allowing me to share all of the times, through thick and thin, through the rain, rain, and more rain, through the times with crazy people, kind people, and innocent bystanders, through all of the photos, the dumb short updates, and the over-long tedious ramblings.

You, my favorite readers, are my people (and, as you know, so are gas station people, grocery store people, and moms).

And since this is sounding more and more like the world's worst wedding vows, I'll elect to stop.

But seriously.  Thank you.