Good news! I am not dead!

Instead, like the proverbial bear stirring from its proverbial hibernation, thoughts and ideas and quippy nonesuches have once again begun to tip-toe back into my brain. (Details later, if you're lucky. If you're not lucky, well, stay out of Atlantic City, you snake-eyes rolling fool.) My late-February awakening has filled me with a very encouraging sort of hunger, though -- after all, once the proverbial bear awakens, surely it gives a proverbial bear-speech, as in, "Growl, I'm famished! Point me in the direction of the honey, for I am a bear, and we like that sort of thing! Even if honey is only regurgitated bee matter which cannot be fed to infants under the age of two! Growl I say!" Perhaps somebody should write a proverb about the proverbial bear. If somebody were awake and full of enough inspiration-food, they might be able to do so. And somebody is starting to be just that, so somebody better shout hoorah and then make with the anticipatory confetti. Whimsical confetti. Ambient confetti. Yes.

Oh moot points, how I've missed you.