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i'm great, thanks.

i know you didn't ask, explicitly, but i figure you've got to have a reason to look at this damn thing.

i like my dad. i do.
Ever since we stopped competing, he's shown me what a cool, thoughtful guy he is.
Tonight i went and had dinner with him (i know it's still a bit early for beaujolais, but i brought him some. Not like we drank any, he's too polite to drink in front of someone who has to drive.), and for Christmas he gave me the old cuckoo clock from my Grandfather's house. i know that might not seem too thrilling to all of you, but frankly, i have about three fond memories of my Grandfather's house, besides my Grandfather. One is a small velvet bell that wound up as a music box and played 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' another was his big, beautiful, mahogany desk. The last was the cuckoo clock he had. It's the only real cuckoo clock i've ever seen in my life that works, and it still does. He gave me the desk when he cleaned out his place in Colorado, he'd been using it himself. The bell was lost somehow, and the only time i've ever seen my father cry was when that was the only thing i asked for from the house after my Grandfather died.

Plus he cooks really well.

My trip to Chico went to hell.
God, way too much drama. More about it later, it was bitchin' traction once i got there.

Damn, but i just like most people i know.
i really do. Even for all the shit i give them, i like them a lot.
There are a few exceptions, of course (This is the part where John feels crushed and says to himself 'that's me he's talking about there.' To hell with him. He needs to stop reading between single-spaced lines.), but for the most part i really like a lot of my friends' qualities.
Hell, that's why i put up with all their ridiculous crap. i can only imagine in their fractured minds they have a heirarchy of crap that affords me the same courtesy.

Welll; Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Ghetto Kwanzaa, Unsunny Solstice, Ren-Fairish Yule, whatever the hell you want. See my Christmas Card.

Courtesy,
Sushi.