Spent it with my folks, who are, as I’ve said before, very cool. Got kid brother a PS2 and some games. Corruption of youth proceeds apace.
Some very nice gifts. James got me a lovely necklace and a copy of “Viva Pinata!” and my father sent me one of those bird feeders that spin squirrels off into the abyss, and my mother got me a slew of odd things, including a giant pop-up book of hideous nightmares and some brightly colored fluffy socks, which I plan to wear in public and alarm people.
Other than that, nothin’ much. Family dog is on the way out, but did not die over Christmas, despite best efforts. (At nearly eighteen, and a decrepit eighteen, the dog is certifiably undead.)
I am, at long last, inspired to make art. I knew visiting my folks would help. I have two diametrically opposed notions–one set of physical paintings, and one freakish digital photo-collage-and-paint hey-if-McKean-can-do-it idea. We’ll see if either one takes hold long enough to come to light…
Cats did not kill one another in our absence. Victory!
Also, had a hideous convention anxiety dream last night. Very odd, since I have no cons planned for months, and did not need to frantically wander a strange city trying to find ink and paper and plastic bags for half the night.
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