I have been writing this blog since September 9, 2003. That's 1198 days, or 3 years, 3 months, and 11 days. It's more than 170 weeks. It's longer than the original Scheherazade entertained the Sultan and kept herself alive.
Including this one, I have written 2665 posts. Most of those I've published, although a few are just drafts.
You have left 9562 comments so far. Some of those are spam, and some stung me a little bit, but most of them made me laugh or made me think.
We've had two birthday parties. We've played games. You've seen me happy and sad. You saw me as a lawyer and as a sailing coach. You were there when I crashed my car and when my dog lost her leg and when she died. You stepped in to help when my mast toppled, and that generosity and grace made me cry. You were there during food poisoning and heartbreak and sadness and still morning walks and rowdy parties and all kinds of things. You've talked about books and music with me, and we've talked about love and sadness and finding your path. Some of the things you've said to me, here in front of everyone or privately, by email, have made me gasp and my eyes water with your courage and your honesty. Thank you for that. Thanks for the friendly forgiving eyes with which you've witnessed my life. Thanks for keeping me company as I fumble along trying to figure out my way in the world.
I've made friends through this blog -- some of whom I've gotten to meet in person and many of whom I still hope to have a chance to meet. I've fallen in love with someone I met through this blog, bizarre as that still seems.
Tomorrow I'll turn 34, and I'll stop posting on this weblog. I have a present for you, but you have to wait until tomorrow to get it.