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Presumably, after all this time, Your Humble Blogger would have a whole slew of notes just sitting here waiting to be posted. Yeah, right. I utterly failed to spend five off-line days jonesing for this Tohu Bohu. When I got back on-line, my aggregator had five fucking hundred items waiting for me, and it took me another two days to get through them. And then there were rehearsals for Enchanted April, and starting to get my lines into my head. It's actually surprisingly easy to get used to not blogging…

Still, here it is a week and then some from my last post, and I'm finally typing in something to prepare for that magic moment when my Gracious Host tells me that I can once more log in to this blog. Which, presumably, has already happened by the time you read this. So there.

But the point of this pointless note is for me to remark to myself in semi-public about the things I could conceivably blog, so that I will create some pressure for myself to actually blog, thus getting myself back into the habit.

There's the long-delayed analysis of Our Only President's Inaugural Address. There's the next verse of Pirke Avot. There's some observations about baseball and steroids, which would probably be better left alone. There's something about higher education, I suppose, and the library. What else… I should catch up on my Book Reports, of course, but I'm actually not too far behind on them. Oh, yes, my Coraline experience. That'll do to go on with, yes?

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.