I guess I'm momentarily revived.

In the world of blogging, I meant. I came across a colleague and friend's blog on her life as a teacher living here in New Orleans, and I was struck by the austerity of my own blog, one that should very much be colored by my own strands of rich experiences living in one of the most interesting and perplexing cities of our time. So here I am, months later, again picking up the dusty cyberquill, which has, for some time now, remained unused and abandoned. I am enthused. By my life right now, which is textured with graininess and the sorts of runs you might find in a pair of weathered pantyhose (as most interesting and lived lives might contain their fair share of, I posit), but also by my experience. By the sensational act of getting up every day and going to a job that resembles something like the frontlines our American soldiers face in strange, unknown places. A job with worthiness. A job with purpose. A job that's more than just a job; it's a duty, an honor, an adventure containing tons of snares and tangles, roadblocks and other sorts of obstructions that might threaten the demise of a journey. But it's cooh, man, it's realll cool, 'cuz it's something that you believe in. Something that gets you going in the morning like a cup of mint java. Something that incites the exhale of sleepy weariness at the end of the day, the mark of a day's good work.