In response to Taily's comment, no, I'm not bored -- not with blogging, anyway. I'm just bored. Period. I'm looking back at my recent entries and I see little else but moans and whines. It's like I've become a different me. And eventually, I got quite fed up with moaning and whining, and then there was little else to say. I needed a break, and I took one.

This past hols, I found more than ample opportunities to be by myself. People took separate vacations out of town, and there were days I literally didn't need to vocalize anything beyond a couple of perfunctory sentences to order food or whatever. As much as I appreciate the solitude as ol' Bill Wordsworth did once, I didn't find the experience particularly inspirational enough to write about. So I didn't.

I'm no people person, but I do need a few people with whom I can sharpen myself on and maintain my edge. My sense of humour depends on people to bounce off, but as you can probably tell of late, my entries have been losing their enthusiasm. Even my media reviews have become quite colourless. Boring.

Which is why I'm actually grateful the term has started. I grateful for having regular lunch company again, and I'm grateful for tonight's dinner in HP's honour, and the opportunity for light, easy, irreverent, silly chat tossed around the table once again. It doesn't happen as often these days, but I'll take what I can get.