gotta find my happy

On the 8th of December, around 8 in the evening, I will be at the airport, holding up a great big sign and looking for oregoonie. Who will probably be stoned out of her gourd on anti-scaredy tranquilizers, making this all even more hilarious. I hope she doesn't push her mom into a potted plant. The pots at TPA are made of granite.

When I say 'you' I mean Grubs: what do you think I should put on this sign?

Last night Colby and Joe and my spaz-tastic dog nephew Baxter all went over to visit with bleukarma and her pup, my spaz-tastic dog nephew Charlie. (Baxter is a compressed version of Charlie: Baxter is a boxy, square dog with a small face. Charlie is longer than he is tall and has a delightfully pointy little terrier nose.) Bleu cooked enough food for a large village: we had biscuits and salad and baked ziti (homigod good) and pumpkin pie. I brought six shells and a huge bowl containing five pounds of cannoli cream. I brought home two shells and a huge bowl containing four pounds of cannoli cream. Everybody loves Dave a bit more, now. Bleu and I made a deal for all future shindigs: she brings the spinach dip and I bring the cannoli. Joe especially likes this plan, because spinach dip and cannoli are two of his favorite things. He liked it even more when I told him, you've been good, go get a spoon and have at it. He grabbed the biggest spoon in the drawer.

Today looks to be busy and frustrating. Tomorrow looks to be headdesky. I shall burn all bridges involved when I get to them. Rargh!

My reward for surviving this year, I think, is going to be for me to refurbish my violin with all new bits and start playing it again. I've made a list of stuff, which should be easy to get locally and none of it too expensive. New rosin, because mine sort of melted; two or three sets of new strings because I always fucking break them on the fucking ebony pegs (anyone know how to put guitar machineheads on a violin? I'll love you forever); a couple of spare bridges because I've snapped those in the past; a tin of peg dope (heehee, peg dope) for the fucking If It Was Good Enough For Shakespeare ebony pegs that I hate; a mute so I won't offend Riley; a pitch-pipe so I can tune the thing properly; and some gypsy and/or Irish sheet music. Links to the latter would be welcomed with squeeing and hugs.

delkon inadvertently gave me a great Holidaysmas idea: to send cheesy uber-Florida postcards in lieu of Christmas cards. Anyone else want some? I do love picking those out. Let me know what you prefer, alligators with pasted-on googly eyes or old people in scary swimsuits. If enough of you are interested I'll do up a screened post so you can send me your addresses.

I think this holiday is going to be a fun one. I'm cobbling together a list of presents for people and, delightfully, most of it is stuff I am making. I like making things! I need to find my pliers (the needlenoses are probably still in my backpack) and my wirecutters and all the knife blades Colby hasn't dulled on my hair and the Super Seventy Fucking Seven and some fake bling and some marabou trim and an old paintbrush I can use to glue stuff and and and and and it's like Crafts Day in preschool, except I think my handwriting is worlds more illegible now.