Saturday was full of groovy social times, hanging out with fans at lunch and mingling with work folk at a fancy dinner. We saw a parade of ships decked out in Christmas lights plow through the Sound, and Doc Oc set a cone of sugar doused in rum on fire, letting it drip into a vat of mulled wine, and then poured various alcohols on it so that the flames burned high and blue.

Today, I tried my hand at getting my holiday shopping over with. I think part of the reason Xmas is so fraught for me is that it seems to underline just how poorly I know the people I'm related to. Would my Auntie like such and such? My grandmother would appreciate this random doodad, right? Honestly? I have no freakin' idea, and that's a fact. My mother likes to read mysteries. My dad plays the guitar a little. My brother Everclear likes to drink and needs health insurance. My brother The Dipper likes to get baked and also needs health insurance. In conclusion: I hate not having an intuitive knowledge of what people really want as gifts, and not being rich enough to buy everyone on my list a house, a car and a pony.</scrooge>

I did write out some Christmas cards at least, but I'm actually completely wretched at buying presents. Even if I was made of money, I'd still be that sad bastard who gave you a gift card. Apologies.

To distract myself from my crabby mood, I read some incredibly compelling Firefly gen by gritkitty. It's a Mal story set pre-Firely, vivid, fully realized and wholly absorbing. Here's a still-green Mal, one who's terrified and elated and full of the stubborn pride we know him for. Give The Instant of a Wreck a go.