It was a dark and stormy night—No, wait, that's not it.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away—Closer, but still not quite right.

Once upon a time, there was a not-quite-30-year-old girl who fancied herself a writer (ah, yes, now we're getting somewhere), and she also cared about politics because it was coded into her DNA, and she was damned angry about the state of things in George Bush's America, and so, like so many other proverbial basement-dwelling Cheetos-eaters, she went onto the Internet—which is not a truck—and created an account at Daily Kos to commiserate with other like-minded dirty fucking hippies and say things like, "Fuck you, Democrats" or "Fuck you, Republicans" or "Fuck you, Sarah Palin," or "Fuck you, fill-in-the-blank." (Did I mention that our not-quite-30-year-old girl has something of a potty mouth?)

As so many people who sign up at Daily Kos quickly discover, it's about a lot more than politics. It's about recipes, and pictures of our cats, and celebrating each other's achievements, and mourning each other's losses, and writing about writing, and ooohing and ahhhing at pictures of Michelle Obama in all her fabulousness, and even meeting face-to-face and exclaiming, "So that's what you look like!" and getting into pie fights and making Meta Jesus sob into his shroud, and sometimes just laughing at Republicans awkwardly eating hot dogs because we all have a giggling 13-year-old boy inside us, right?

I came for the politics. I stayed for the community. And now, dear friends, it's time for this angry little mouse to mosey. I will forever be grateful for that email from The Man Himself that arrived one December day in 2009, asking if I wanted to write for the front page. (Um, yes? And also, hell yes? And also, duh.) And I'll forever be even more grateful than that for the email that came asking if I wanted to work for Daily Kos for reals, full-time, for fun and profit. (Um, yes? And also, hell yes? And also, duh squared.)

And oh, how I've had fun. Like the first time I made fun of Sarah Palin—for profit!—and then realized, "Wow. I just got paid to make fun of Sarah Palin. Best. Job. EVER! also."

Or that time, six weeks into the job, I got to interview the White House communications director and ask about President Obama's evolution on marriage equality, which provoked weeks of questioning by the White House press corps, and ultimately, the president putting himself on the right side of history. (You're welcome, The Gays!)

Daily Kos gave me a place to write about the War on Women before it was cool and before most people believed it was, you know, a thing. (Wikipedia says I was among the first to write about it, and while I don't know if that's true, it's nice of Wikipedia to say so, isn't it?) But oh my stars did that change—until everyone was talking about it, even those silly wackadoodle wingnuts who insisted it didn't exist. We raised a lady army in 2012 and helped beat back the haters, decimate the rape caucus, and make history with all those women we sent to Washington to kick some ass and take some names. And while I don't usually like to say "I told you so," well, ya know. I told you so. Lady high five!

Most of all, though, I think about the times when all manner of hell was breaking loose in my real, meatsack world, and logging on to Daily Kos and getting to be Angry Mouse was my escape and sometimes my salvation. This land of orange-colored satanic greatness has given me so much—validation as a writer, fun and adventure, friends I've come to love dearly, and a place to call home.

But, to mix some metaphors, it's time for this little mouse to leave the nest and test my sea legs in some other corners of the interwebs. So I'm all kinds of happy and excited to announce that I'm heading to Wonkette to get my snark on, learn some new things, and get to write stuff like "Yr Wonkette."

I'm not really leaving. This isn't goodbye. It's more like, "Thanks for raising me, I'll be back for holidays to do some laundry and get a nice home-cooked meal, and please send money for beer I mean books."

And it's a thank you. Thank you to this fine establishment for such an amazing opportunity. Thank you to this community for the laughs and tears and support and tips and recs and shares and likes and all that good stuff. And yes, even thank you to that one guy who made the first comment in my very first diary that taught me, right away, just how thick a skin you must have if you wanna play on the Internet: "Please understand that you are a fucking idiot." (You know who you are, pal, and hahaha, joke's on you, isn't it?) Thank you to the Academy and my co-stars and director and … Aw, hell, thanks to all of you for everything.

If you still can't get enough of my phrase-turning, ass-kicking and ladyparts blogging—and come on, you know you can't—you'll find me at Wonkette and also on The Twitters, where I try to be funny and fierce and make feminism fun in 140 characters or less.

Now gather in close, y'all, for a big group hug. And no goodbyes! Just to be continued ...