(My boss keeps introducing me to these obscure gaming comics. I can barely follow Penny Arcade and the occasional CAD on my own.)
Hit the shopping districts the last few days, in Capital City first and then Campustown. I don't actually mind the holiday rush - in a perverse way I really enjoy it. It's a trigger for happier memories of Christmas, I guess - and a bit of retail therapy at that. The big department stores are selling these unbelievably cute stuffed animals, rabbits and pandas and things - fairly expensive, but it's WWF stuff (World Wildlife Fund, no World Wrestling Federation) so you get to feel good about yourself when you buy one. Unfortunately, I still have nobody to give one to. Which is quite possibly the most depressing thing about Christmas. Back around the time I started Antyx, I made a semi-serious promise to myself that I would not be spending this Christmas alone - but I suppose I already knew back then that it wouldn't happen. Just another one in a long line of failures I've gotten used to.
This year has been good in a lot of ways - I went to some excellent concerts, did a lot of traveling, bought a car and then actually sold it for a measurable amount of money (as opposed to writing it off)... graduated from college even. Still, my mom died this year, so I can't really count it as a success. (Cancer. Objectively, she was in a lot of pain and it probably put her out of her misery, but subjectively I just can't think like that.)
Bought a gun today. Not a real one, a toy Magnum revolver that uses pop caps. It's die cast, properly metal and satisfyingly heavy. The caps don't make much noise though, but they do produce the lovely smell. It's for the company Christmas piss-up this weekend. The theme is Mexico, so I have a sombrero as well. Slippery When Wet is supposed to get back to me tomorrow on whether a fleece blanket from the cheap crap store makes a convincing poncho.
Merry Christmas to all my regular readers - the person from Finland who checks the blog religiously (do I know you?), the person from Iceland, the person from right here in Small Country who occasionally drops by on a link, and all the Circle Jerk regulars. And, of course, each and every one of the people who find this place even remotely curious.