The other woman.

Several weeks ago (or maybe it wasn’t that long) Smed emailed me asking if he had missed the memo about the other place where I blog. I realize I haven’t been fair to my Diaryland readers, those diehard afficcionados who simply can’t go a day without the words of (insert reverb here) Elgan! to cheer up their otherwise dreary and meaningless lives. All right, I went a little overboard there, but I’ve not been my usual cheerful self lately, and the sarcasm has been flowing like bile from my poison pen.

It’s true, though, I do blog elsewhere, and while I don’t think it detracts from my daily diarying here, where I admit to you, my faithful readers, that I tend to spill my guts and reveal more of myself personally than at the “other place”, I do publish some pretty good prose and thought it would only be fair to you to let you in on it. There is one catch though, as you’ve already discovered if you tried the link: you have to be a member of that particular blogging site and logged in. I invoked the lock in order to save myself from search engines and stalkers. Hey, don’t laugh! It could happen!

So, there’s the memo. If you do happen to frequent my other blog, leave me a comment. I love comments. Oh, and if you do happen by, listen to my audio. I’ve posted a handful of mp3’s of my golden tones. You can leave me comments there too. Please. Pretty please. With sugar on top.

[I updated last night, very short, very boring, explaining why I’m in such a vile mood.]

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