... Percussion Master.

( No longer shall I regard Fun Factory with fear and loathing. )

Yesterday I was on fire, I'll tell you whut. I feel like I've finally shaken off the holiday - slash - physical-infirmity funk.

( Not that I got anything meaningful accomplished, of course. )

I'm having a wonderful evening tonight with my funny, articulate, quick-on-the-draw, utterly delightful children. And I say that tonight, for a change, without the barest hint of sarcasm.

( They're so witty lately, I no longer believe they were all switched in the hospital! )

In my household, Santa has never brought the cool stuff, the big-ticket items or anything wrapped; he's more likely to fill your stocking with, say, dental floss and those cheesy supermarket-checkout-line word-find booklets.

( Big-ass pictures behind the cut! )

... or not. Knowing me, it will be mostly fluff.

( Christmas Eve! Whee!! )

First of all, mobz is here on vacation! woot!! I'm hoping we'll be able to get together very very soon.

( ... although the titular situation is conspiring against me, feh. )