(That's how Cara put it, anyway). It's been a good Christmas. Particularly in terms of timing: it was pushed back from our usual stockings at 8ish (during college--earlier it was stockings at 6:30) with breakfast thereafter--Eggs Benedict, sausage, bacon, EMD (early morning drinks--Reymus Fizzes in particular), juice, hot chocolate--then the tree by the time noon rolled around. This year, Mom allowed as how Dad would be the arbiter of timing. So I was rousted out of bed at the young hour of 10:45 (having been up until 3:45ish with wrapping and hanging out with Strump and suchwhat), for stockings.
Best. Stocking stuffer. Ever: Nun Bowling. Oh dear god so hilarious. Also, lots of chocolate. This is a good thing.
Other loot included frying pans for my apartment and books and the settlers expansion. And CTA token cufflinks, because that's just kinda awesome. Baron (Strump's dog, for those who don't know, a small rat terrier/manchester terrier mix who is a black hole of spaz) got a Greenie in wrapping paper. He neglected to unwrap it before chowing down on it.
Last night was Christmas Eve (I mean this in terms of the event rather than the date, which ought be obvious to anyone with a calendar or a pair of eyes and a couple brain cells to rub together for sparks), and Captain Erickson and Ben and Taylor came over for dinner (Black tie, business for those under 40--I wore Dad's 'Bah Humbug' tie, which is the lovely old thin burgundy tie with the eponymous words in small cream script repeated all across the tie). Pate and cheeses during the cocktail portion of the evening. For dinner--Crabcakes, Beef Wellington (and mashed potatoes--ironically, the dish I am closest to being responsible for that isn't dessert--and pearled onions), and dessert (homemade bouche de noel, chocolate pecan pie, 'pinecones' (dacquoise meringues stacked with chocolate ganache between and around, and some dressed up in almond slices--hence the name), and chocolate brioche bread pudding). So very very tasty. I hadn't seen the Ericksons more than a couple times (like twice) since Emily's funeral (my godmother, Capt. Erickson's wife, and one of the reasosn I left Sidley) in February, so it was good to see them again in less unhappy circumstances. Fritz (their pouffy white-haired dog, Baron's best friend in the world) came, too, and they hung out while the humans did the same.
We have leftovers for weeks. The garage is cold enough to act as a walk in fridge, which is a damn good thing.
Other than the holiday events, and wrapping (and spending five hours on or about a ladder lighting the upside-down tree that is the centerpiece of Christmas Eve dinner/Christmas breakfast. 1700 lights on that sucker), I've had two days of outings: one to hang out with the lovely Miss Liz Marquez, involving chatting and dinner and watching Love Actually, which is the only modern sappy movie my parents seem to enjoy around Christmas (rather than things involving Bing and Fred and possibly Rosemary Clooney). The other involved going out to the Leesburg outlets with Dad, to lounch (mmm... Sushi. And the Beatles on loop in the background), and then downtown to get the White House Christmas Ornament for Mom (this year's is pretty damn good). Then I went off to my coffee shop in Dupont for a couple hours to work (hah) on story (38.5k words now, but kinda don't know what to do with this section), and eventually off to dancing with Grace and various others. Five hours of dancing so happy (add to that two and a half miles walked with a 20-lb bag on my back, and you might understand how I got home at 3:30 and promptly crashed for as long as they'd let me).
That's pretty much the highlights of break so far.
Merry Christmas to y'all.
No legal quote, because it's break, dammit.
I live in Chicago. I write and dance and game. I occasionally take pictures of things. If you're here you hopefully know me already, at which point much more explanation is really just unnecessary.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
DC and the possibility of a White Christmas
I have survived! Exams are done and I think I may even have done well. But there will be no caring or concerning myself or even thinking about it until grades come out... so... not now, in other words. I have survived, my brains have melted out my ears, I have been excommunicated twice (and twice conquered Christianity in order to be recommunicated--once as France, once as the Holy Roman Empire, which it must be noted as other have is not holy, is not roman, and is no longer an Empire [but in Medieval II: Total War as I'm currently playing it, it stretches from lisbon to bulgar]). There was movie watching and playing through Gears of War II on Bergy's television of grave significance (by which I mean it's fucking gargantuan) and parties and the discovery that various of my friends have cats--which means I might be able to arrange feline playdates next term, because cats are excellent. And on the plane home I ended up talking history and philosophy and stories with a kid of indeterminate age (but pre-undergrad, as he was returning from just having interviewed for admittance to Cambridge--the English one, mind) who was vastly amusing for two hours and change.
And now, I in my harlequin-argyle sweater am sitting in my parents' house in DC doing laundry--rather, waiting for it to be done--so I have clothes for tomorrow, and chatting to people on google and allowing a somewhat heavy grey cat to lie on my lap and arm and purr as I type. I have a bed in what was my old room in which to sleep (it is no longer my room, as there is a new inhabitant who is not currently here but at her parents' house, and it is not my bed, as that is in Chicago), and life is generally lovely. Dad came to pick me up at the airport, and I will likely be seeing Miss Liz Marquez tomorrow for... something, and saturday Grace and I will be going to Remington's for more dancing with gay cowboys (because that's one of the various and sundry things I do).
I leave you, before my battery runs out, witha quote from today's crim exam, for your amusement: 'Wayne gets his kicks by setting off dynamite (assume he is not legally insane).'
And now, I in my harlequin-argyle sweater am sitting in my parents' house in DC doing laundry--rather, waiting for it to be done--so I have clothes for tomorrow, and chatting to people on google and allowing a somewhat heavy grey cat to lie on my lap and arm and purr as I type. I have a bed in what was my old room in which to sleep (it is no longer my room, as there is a new inhabitant who is not currently here but at her parents' house, and it is not my bed, as that is in Chicago), and life is generally lovely. Dad came to pick me up at the airport, and I will likely be seeing Miss Liz Marquez tomorrow for... something, and saturday Grace and I will be going to Remington's for more dancing with gay cowboys (because that's one of the various and sundry things I do).
I leave you, before my battery runs out, witha quote from today's crim exam, for your amusement: 'Wayne gets his kicks by setting off dynamite (assume he is not legally insane).'
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Other things that amuse me
http://www.queerty.com/secret-cause-of-global-collapse-found-its-the-gays-20081202/
Also, the webcomic Least I Could Do. I just lost what could have been a fairly productive evening to that.
Also, the webcomic Least I Could Do. I just lost what could have been a fairly productive evening to that.
Monday, December 1, 2008
For your amusement:
It came from Westlaw, so it must actually have been in court:
http://kevinunderhill.typepad.com/Documents/Mayo_v_Satan.pdf
http://kevinunderhill.typepad.
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