It's amazing when you have a week off. Even if it's an unintentional week off like this one. You get sidetracked by origami and ginger cake. And, if you're lucky, you remember you used to do a blog. A blog like this one. There was a time when I was proud of this blog. It was a hub of activity and an integral part of 33 people's daily internet viewing. These days it hides in the shadows of other more important and popular irritants. It's sad really, I know I should do something to give it life, but like a doctor bored with his patient, I am happy to let it fade away. Unfortunately, I don't find myself possessing the necessary sadistic qualities. Everytime I try to let it die, I feel a tinge of regret. I remember - fondly - times when I used to write about American and Russian cocktails and I was in a thriving relationship with a young African girl who didn't exist. I want to write like that again. Or, more is the point, I want to feel like I want to write like that again. It was easy before. I didn't need to force it. I was just able to write. I don't know if I am suffering from a major case of 'bloggers block' or whether it is simply a case that young African millionaires have lost my email address. I guess that sounds like a cliché, but it's true. I did decide yesterday, though, that I should at least try. So we have a new layout and a new post. Maybe that will inspire me. Maybe it won't. But we'll enjoy finding out won't we?

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