I've let weeds crop up around the corners, spider-webs breed in the rafters. Sorry. It's been that kind of March. Good busy, to be sure, but busy. Lots of great comic-booky stuff coming down the pike—can't talk about any of it yet, sadly. Hopefully, a decent chunk of it can be announced by San Diego, but the nights have certainly been full of stuff that happily kept me up late.
And as of a week ago, my long distance relationship with Battlestar Galactica has come to an end. I've been writing about that show, in one way or another, for the past four years. And while I can't think of another show as worthy of attention as BSG, I'm glad to get my Friday nights back. I've already written exhaustively on the finale, and where I thought it succeeded and failed, so I'm not gonna get into it here. I just wanna thank BSG for affording me the opportunity to hug Grace Park, swoon over Mary McDonnell, and call Lucy Lawless a man. I will miss it.
So, back to the word mines. See you soon.