Dear Mr. Anonymous Cyber Coward, sir;
I don't know who you are, and frankly, the mystery is starting to get my goat. Of course, just as frustrating, I'd be a little disappointed if, after all these years, you just came out of hiding and told me.
But, oooh, this is killing me now! Who are you? No! Don't tell me!
Right, you know how I feed off of this kind of thing, right? In high school, I was a notorious desk doodler in all of my classes, hoping that someone would answer the "Hello! Who's out there?" or some such thing that I'd write directly onto all of my desks. A couple of times, someone did, and the thrill of an anonymous conversation would keep me going for weeks! Inevitably, though, I'd find out who the other party was, or vice versa, and the mystery - and the excitement - would end.
On the one hand, I don't believe that you're not who I suspect you are**, as much as you deny it. On the other, I really have no idea who else you could be.
Do I want to know? Yes, absolutely. Without question.
Do I not want to know? Yes, absolutely. Without question.
So, how about a compromise? You don't have to tell me who you are. But... ever hear of a little thing called JournalCon? You know that as a member of the committee (Doyenne of Fabulousness and Provider of International Flava, thank you very much!), I'm going to be there...
So. You wanna come to the party?
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**P.S. I totally know it's you, you know. I totally do. Mostly.