O kay. Hello. Is this thing on? Just kidding; it's just us here, and Albert, the dog, who is right now standing across the room just staring at me, waiting for something. Anyway, I'm writing this from December to you in the new year just beyond here. I always love New Year's Eve, when anything seems possible no matter how many times you've been disappointed to find yourself just hungover but otherwise the same on New Year's Day. Even knowing that, there's the lingering notion that it could feel different, that though of course you cannot be less yourself, maybe you could be more, a definable shape.