Have I come to, too soon for you?

I am currently in a literary cocoon. Not undergoing metamorphosis or anything so grand, but made to spin and weave on my own for a bit and be dormant for a little while longer. Then I'll return again, for good or evil. My inner workings are presently speculative, inquisitorial, investigative.

What's up with all the volatile comments on my weblog anyway? Thanks a lot, Wentz.

A new episode of Escapee will come soon. Scouts Honor.

A Ghost of Mist Was On the Field

Not much to report. Yet. But here's to crossing my fingers and saying that maybe I will have something to talk about soon.

It's Good Friday today. Living with an Italian family, that means a fish dinner, church, and my own desire to see The Passion of the Christ a second time. Not exactly the kind of flick you can just pop in any old weekend. But it's one of those things that I just want to feel. I care little for the particulars, but at the core, that depiction speaks directly to me. And though I forget it now and then and stumble as I go, it's still very much the center of my life.

Everyone check in on Marcy's weblog on Monday. Just do it—no questions, see?