Also known as big pimpin', also known as "someone else wrote it better and I'm not going to bother competing or writing something to complement it, I'm just gonna link to it": Seesterperson sums up the season. I too have last-minute wrapping to get done tonight, but for obvious reasons I cannot discuss the ribboning issues posed by, f'rinstance, Seesterperson's new Peruvian hairless puppy.
As for the seasonal affective cures she proposes, I admit that I do not yet have a sun lamp, despite annual protestations that I'm totally getting one this year, and that I got the dilute Slavic genes, since my winter-blues high-proof straight potable of choice is Macallan rather than vodka or some other white samogon. Good scotch is sufficiently engrossing as to make conversation unnecessary, rendering it the ideal drink for sipping as you meditate on whether a good bonfire might help bring back the sun. This is when a trip to the High Atlas starts to sound extremely appealing.
[ETA: Santa brought me a sun lamp. Whining does work!]
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Macallan probably also makes a better hot toddy than vodka. Although I have no evidence to back this up.
Also, seriously, rigged Scrabble game! I protest!
Hot vodka sounds vile, I agree. I am willing to make toddies with 10-year-old Macallan, but with anything older it seems disrespectful.
If it's rigged, someone else did the work; I'm too fuddled with the rules ("Rules? RULES?") to know how to be so schemey.
Ugh, just the phrase "hot vodka" makes my stomach shrink in fear.
And yes, this new "official" game of Scrabble is very rule-oriented. This is a strike against online games, I feel.
In its favor, the rules-oriented version prevents people from turning on one another as they might otherwise do. I played Scrabble a few times in Alaska, but our crew realized that it was a terrible idea for competitive word-freaks with ready access to firearms but not to a dictionary to get too intense about anything like the game. The fact that we hadn't had hot showers in three weeks did nothing to sweeten anyone's mood; we'd have drunk hot vodka at that point. (We did drink cheap rye whisky in equally execrable Rose brand tea. Out of plastic mugs, if memory holds a seat in this distracted globe. Ghastly.)
Note to self: Never play Scrabble while armed. Got it.
More to the point, never play Scrabble with other people who are armed.
Unless you are ready to shoot first.
On another note, just got back from three weeks on the West Coast. Woke up four minutes to noon EST. It has been a day of perpetual dusk and gloom. WTF? Where's my sunshine? I had announced over the vacation that I am more of an East Coast person, but the gloaming is demanding a reevaluation.
Those with a decent-sized Chinatown near them may not pine so much for the West side, but oh lo' did I love the Bay area. And by "love" I mean "consumed mass quantities." If the weather's gonna be soggy, you might as well be out in the land of hills!
Heeeey... where's my Peruvian Hairless Puppy????
"A Christmas wrapping project turns tragic: Film at 11."
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