Clearly, I have not been writing on this blog. Blogging/journaling seems pretty boring to me. Only when I'm struck by A Mood. Events have come and gone. Nights have descended and blurred into morning. I've cried and laughed and thrown up in a friend's toilet. Well, that and other things. Perhaps I've dreamed a book that demands translation. Perhaps I've dreamed a book that demands a copyeditor's red pen. Perhaps I've dreamed a book that demands a detailed outline in 12 point Times New Roman. For all the months that have passed, I've spent double that time believing that what I might write could make a difference. I care most of all about making a difference, but sometimes that takes the form of crying in the back of the classroom while I show A Film Of Utmost Importance. Sometimes it means agreeing with the cashier that a long day demands a bottle of wine. Sometimes it just means. Sometimes it means the book is written in my head- so who will retrieve it?