Finally guilted into actually donating to Wikipedia, which I do use all the time. Mostly for pop-culture references, since I just don't get those otherwise.
Awoke this morning and said, "It's really windy today." TheLimey asked, "How do you know?" "Can't you smell it?" I replied, which just made him laugh. But sure enough, when he went out, it was super duper windy, and trash and trashcans were blowing about the streets wildly. I could smell it being windy. Weird.
Limelet had a great time opening presents on Christmas morning, playing with them all day, and then taking them to bed that evening. It's taken him several days to stop asking for presents every morning, however. He's now a one-man band with his kitarrh and his marmogginah. Figure that one out, willya.
I now think it's harder to write fiction than nonfiction, although that wasn't always the case. Maybe now I unreasonably apply nonfiction standards to fiction. I keep telling myself, "It's okay to write derivative crap. It's okay to write derivative crap." Because you know what? It is! If that's what's in my head, which it is. I have no delusions that I will write the Great American Novel or Great Literature (or even Good Literature), so what the hell. Derivative crap sells, anyway. When I was in music I always said I'd sell out first, then I could afford to do artsy and daring stuff, rather than be accused of selling out after I had an artsy audience. I think that philosophy may apply here as well.