Letters to Myself

Today I'm legally required to commit a birthday. It'll be my 38th (yay). Tim recently asked where does the time go? The answer, of course, is into your child.

To celebrate, let us commit a meme (via Gregory):
Meme: Post the first line of your first journal entry of each month for 2007.
January: It's a brand new year.

February: It's the end of another week, and thank you for that.

March: The photo op with the Killer Rabbit went well, I'm happy to report.

April: At this rate I might as well make this a weekly delivery, as it seems it's all I can do.

May: In case you've ever wondering where I'm posting from, it's the Blogipeligo, on the larger island near the city of BoingBoing.

June: So, I have it on good authority that of every household involved in the get-together last week, one or more people ended up catching some plague variation.

July: "Babies not as innocent as they pretend."

August: Ok, so I've got a little bit of MT weirdness going on.

September: Back from my impromptu vacation.

October:

November: Got my contributor's copies of Flytrap 8, which whot contains my tale, "Breathe."

December: Ian's chin continues to heal.

Clearly I need to work on my opening lines.

Reading: Had been the last of the Terry Pratchett. For me, that would be Carpe Jugulum. As it is, now it's the novelization of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, committed by Lou Harry.