In which nicotine and Mitt Romney break my fragile heart

So, it’s been awhile. A long while. A very long while. Vast ages of the earth have passed, civilizations have risen and fallen, lizardy creatures have risen from amoeba-filled puddles to reign over the land and subsequently be wiped out of existence, and during all that time, I have somehow failed to update my blog.

For my faithful readers, few and potentially mentally unstable though they may be, I offer my deepest apologies.

matt-smith-doctor-sorry

In any case, rather than getting too deeply into what I’ve been up to over the last few months (working, writing, writing, working, etc.), I’ll jump straight into the Very Important subject of this entry.

Today, dear readers, I would like to speak to you about a girl. And not just any girl, but The Girl, whose path happened to cross mine for one beautiful and fleeting train ride yesterday morning. What follows is a story of love and heartbreak, beauty and tragedy, lipstick and disappointing bumper stickers, in which the fondest desires of my fragile little heart were dashed to pieces by cruel, cruel fate.

Read on, friends, and ready yourselves for a tale of utmost woe.

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