text: You may have noticed that we haven't updated in a while. In fact, on April 2nd I said to come back in two weeks. It's, uh, been a few more weeks than that, and we're not here.
  Nor will we be, for the foreseeable future, I'm afraid.
  You are witnessing the death of a blog. A much beloved, much belabored blog.
  Each of us have loved the Archives in our own ways, and each and every one of you for reading it, but we all agree on one thing:
  It's become a chore.
  So, no more excuses. No more "we'll be back in ____" and then multiplying ____ by 10. The only thing worse than not blogging at all is blogging poorly.
  Plus, we kind of hate the word "blog". Or at least, I do.
  Anyway, my friends, while it pains me to say this, the Archives are about to become just that-- shadowy echoes of former selves and lives; a warehouse full of cobwebby thoughts. We may come back someday with a broom and sweep out the attic and dust off a shiny new post, or we may not. We all agree we don't want to make any promises. We don't want to disappoint you anymore.
  But! We're still here! We still exist! We still want to hang out and chat! So come find us in our other spaces, where we clean regularly and post more sporadically-often.
  You can find me (L.T. Host) at my other blog, updated almost never but a slow simmer in my mind always, with the intent to thrive again:
  My Life is (in) a Zoo
  Or on Twitter, as @LTHost .
  And I hope you will, and actually talk to me because I'm horrible about starting conversations I always think I'm not cool enough for people so feel free to break the ice first I promise I won't bite. Phew.
  Thanks for reading, and thanks for being you.
  I'll try and get the rest of the Alliterators to post their preferred contact info here, too. But no promises. We're really bad at keeping those.
  Good night, sweet blog. Good night.