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And so I am up late, wondering to my pillow. And I suppose that I consider my book case a friend. And I consider that my friend, wise and noble and funny and lovely as she is should have a voice, a electronic personage, a blog. And so I come up with a name – that seems clever now but may or may not seem clever in the morning (this is the problem with late night ideas, as you may well know.) And I scramble to claim the URL first (as if other late night dreamers were ferocious and furious mind readers and URL stealers.) And I write what I may find tomorrow to be an atrocious first post, beginning entirely in conjunctions of one kind. And I laugh at myself, and say that’s enough for tonight. And I end abruptly like so.

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