The good reverend went rowing one afternoon with a friend and the headmaster's three daughters. The daughters asked him to tell them a story. With some omissions, the story he told was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. When he took them home that evening, the youngest of them (Alice) asked him to write down Alice's adventures for her.
He did as much as he could and that book became the basis for the story we all know and love today.
Last year, I ran one of these detailing how the company I worked for was going to put an end to earthquakes by pushing the Moon out of orbit. This got a rather extreme reaction from one of my readers -- and I wonder if she's ever forgiven me for it.
This year's bit brought an overwhelming wave of emotion -- regret to see me go, happiness at what I was promising to accomplish, and an overweening commitment to friendship. This warmed the heart of my not-so-inner evil prankster and the parts that weren't fearing retribution, revenge, and other things starting with "re-", were feeling pretty darn warm and fuzzy too. 8)
In short, my friends, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here for the immediate future and in the relative area for the foreseeable future. I was really deeply moved by the concern and encouragement you all sincerely showed me.
In addition to what's in my journal, I received two unexpected telephone calls from caramelbean and caramelbean's mother. Both expressed great pride in having knwon me and a hope that relsqui's decisions weren't going to color my relations with them. In truth, I have no plans in that regard -- the history of those four and a half years is not something I would ever choose to terminate, no matter how far away I was moving.
Anyway, that's ultimately what makes Rabbit Hole Day for me. Writing a bit of silliness is reward enough to begin with, doing a little research is fun, but the outpouring of support and interest you all express towards my fit of whimsy is like sliding into a warm, fuzzy blanket on a warm, less fuzzy bed in the middle of the Arctic.
In truth, I hope you never get wise to it. Or, if you do, that you join me in posting an account of fictional circumstances in the otherwise real world.
As a postscript, I was asked how much of what I wrote was fiction. Virtually everything I wrote was true. Crazy Jen is actually a countess and a big fan of charitable causes, but not actually involved in setting up a program like the one I described. The statistics, the uproar in Kenya, the UN's Committee of Information, the tight beam networking that Alcatel-Lucent is working on is all nonfiction that I turned up last night through a little bit of research for the story.
One thing I was worried about was that someone would point out that the Peace Corps has actually been about the business of setting up computer centers in some urban locations. I had a response planned for it, but thankfully, it wasn't necessary. 8)
I did not actually talk to my manager, quit my job, or make any plans for moving -- that was all entirely fictional.
Thank you one and all -- I deeply hope that your senses of humor and mercy are as well attuned as your sense of being a good friend.