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Mmmmm. I have a little note on my desktop that tells me what I'm doing each day, with varying levels of usefulness. Today's note says 'home. lie down.' and I am doing just that (well, okay, I'm sitting on the couch, but I'm in the spirit of the thing).
Christmas was delightful. And when I say delightful, I mean: my grandmother has finally stopped buying us things we don't want so we can return them and buy something we do want. This year we just got checks. And my grandpa, the one who was hospitalized last month, was holding court quite cheerfully at home, being brought cranberry-orange-juice-no-vodka-at-all cocktails and telling stories about his childhood. (He told us how he was born into a Polish-speaking neighborhood, and never spoke English til he was five or six, and how he learned to dance at age six, when his aunt came over while his mother was in labor - there wasn't much to do, so she wound up the Victrola and started dancing, and, he being the oldest child, got him to dance with her and taught him the steps. All the time he was saying this, I was thinking RayKRayKRayK, because, yes.)
And, well, lots of other stuff with three brothers making gay jokes at the expense of the fourth, my mother and aunt talking about vibrators (just enough to scar me for life), driving driving driving, and, let's not forget, #3 brother's ill-advised girlfriend.
So now I am recovering with Yuletide stories, one of which was written just for me! It's Ocean's 11, Danny/Rusty, which is v. cool. And also, hundreds of other stories. And the DWNOGA stories. And there's Buffy SeSa someplace, too, and... I don't think I'm going to stir off the couch for the rest of the day. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Christmas was delightful. And when I say delightful, I mean: my grandmother has finally stopped buying us things we don't want so we can return them and buy something we do want. This year we just got checks. And my grandpa, the one who was hospitalized last month, was holding court quite cheerfully at home, being brought cranberry-orange-juice-no-vodka-at-all cocktails and telling stories about his childhood. (He told us how he was born into a Polish-speaking neighborhood, and never spoke English til he was five or six, and how he learned to dance at age six, when his aunt came over while his mother was in labor - there wasn't much to do, so she wound up the Victrola and started dancing, and, he being the oldest child, got him to dance with her and taught him the steps. All the time he was saying this, I was thinking RayKRayKRayK, because, yes.)
And, well, lots of other stuff with three brothers making gay jokes at the expense of the fourth, my mother and aunt talking about vibrators (just enough to scar me for life), driving driving driving, and, let's not forget, #3 brother's ill-advised girlfriend.
So now I am recovering with Yuletide stories, one of which was written just for me! It's Ocean's 11, Danny/Rusty, which is v. cool. And also, hundreds of other stories. And the DWNOGA stories. And there's Buffy SeSa someplace, too, and... I don't think I'm going to stir off the couch for the rest of the day. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.