'Sorry' seems to be the hardest word.

I don't know if that's true. I find 'proliferation' very hard to say. 'Sorry' is easy. I say it all time - too much even.

• "Sorry, I thought you said it was fancy dress."
• "I'm not your father, sorry."
• "Sorry, no speaky English."

The last one's a bit of a cop out, to be honest. But it's something I've been doing a lot of recently. (Not 'copping off', mind you. Nothing's changed in that respect.)

But I haven't been posting much and I am sorry.

In a post entitled 'Cop Out', fellow blogger (and one time 'real life' friend) Wanderingjess perfectly captures my feelings of late.

I've just been beat lately, a little emotionally drained and a little too scattered to blog. (sigh)

And now I'm wondering, like Jess (but with an 'o' not an 'a'), do I bring you up to speed with the recent happenings not covered by this blog?

Or, like the first episode in the returning season of an American TV show (which is quite how I see my life), gently reintroduce the themes (social faux pas) and characters (me) that are recurrent in this blog?

This being the Internet - and me being quite lazy - I'm going to opt for the latter.

But please, browse the archives of this site, expect more regular updates and, inevitably, more social faux pas from here on.

Right, I'm off to a fancy dress party...