2001-11-14 - 4:46 p.m.

�Friends, strangers, former employers who have tracked me down like a dog...welcome back.�

So it would seem the PK offices are today marking the great milestone of one year and just over 2 weeks, being, as I was, far too docile to notice the actual anniversary over a fortnight ago.

Ah, when I think back to those heady days, when I�d just made the change from my old journal (�Garcia�) � a brave step that I decided to take just after it was discovered by my bosses and I lost my job. Strange now, to look back at that old journal, with its robot-less plain looks (merci encore, Shlippy). My workaday, childish worries, slaving away in a thankless job that ate away at my soul and paid the most meagre of fiscal rewards.

And what I wouldn�t give to have that job back now. I don�t need thanks or a soul � just your meagre fiscal rewards! Sweet, sweet, meagre fiscal rewards.

Ahem.

I was a whiny little brat, then. Head full of intense thoughts and badly worded rants stolen from Radiohead songs. Not the non-stop radiant sunbeam you know now. It�s no wonder no-one ever read me. And now look � my readership regularly verges on double figures!

In fact, a year ago today, The Detective made his first tentative appearance. Who would have thought that just twelve months later, I would have added as much as five short paragraphs? It was the stuff of a madman�s dreams.

In any case, I�m writing this to say, in a gentle way (cheers, Moz), thank you. Thank you for all your notes and messages, the incomprehensible drivel that soils my guestbook, the charmless e-mails full of pedantry and bile that worm their way into my in tray, the witless links to my page in your own muddled scribblings, the patronising insincerity of feigned concern for my floundering career, the hurtful indifference to my life of enforced celibacy...

Just kidding!

Natch.

All my love always, P x

�For now, I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in. But the revival starts here.�

Today�s year-old tosspot