Christmas was sort of paradoxical this year: it both went by in a blur AND seemed to last forever. -In that way, it's sort of like going to the dentist, except with presents.--Spent the Eve and the Day with various permutations of my Fella's family...his dad was married six times, he has eight half siblings, THEY have kids etc, and it's less like a family, at this point, and more like a very affectionate citystate. It was nice. And, since people WILL insist on bringing their children to holidays, and since children under 17 are, essentially, very cute, ver large petri dishes...I got Sick. -The thoughtful thing to do, of course, would be to lightly boil the children before taking them in public, but people seem oddly loath to do this. In the same way that people seem oddly unwilling to use the time honored traditions of child-rearing that worked so well in the previous centuries. I am thinking here of the wise practice of administering Laudanum to a fretful or sleepless youngster. Laudanum --a distillation of opium--makes children drowsy and gives them pleasant dreams...or if not exactly pleasant, at least memorable. Which would you rather have, a child with good dreams, or a child who wakes in the middlke of the night and writes "Kublai Khan"?-Yes, me too! -Sadly, as laudanum is inexplicably difficult to find, I usually resort to reading the child in question, random passages from any Martin Amis novel I happen to have lying about. That usually puts 'em in a coma.

Went to Maryland to see my folks after I finally stopped projectile vomiting--although it might have been a nostalgic reminder for them of my infancy. Still, I didn't want to have to reimburse the hotel for sheets. We all had a wonderful time, hanging out at their house and talking and laughing. My mother, in a moment of unconscious, but kind of adorable, perversity, decided to cook...TONGUE. For our celebratory dinner with my 30 year old Adonis of a paramour. Tongue. You forget how..tongue shaped, tongue is. M mother, beaming, brought out many wonderful dishes, and then, on a platter, the piece de resistance...a large, incredibly tongue shaped tongue. You expected the label to have said Torn from Its Roots..Just For You!" It looked like the result of a medieval punishment. But it tasted delcious. Once you forgot what it was, [I grew up with this, and it is a delicacy, but it is not for the weak of heart.] John was very noble, and dug in with man a sound of "delicious!".

The next night, we had oxtails. As my Dad pointed out, we had now had the front and the back of the cow. perhaps we should aim for the middle?

The weekend passed in a blur of great conversation. In between visits with my folks,we stayed at a hotel, in order to spare the folks the stress of guests.

Unfortunately, the hotel seemed to have taken to washing (the aforementioned) sheets in some sort of radioactive compound, because I developed an allergic reaction that made my eyes swell up like ping-pong balls, and the skin around them like bright red fur. In short, I spent an idyllic weekend with my beloved, looking like Tickle me Elmo. -Me, that is. Not the beloved.- We got along famously, though we DID have a bit of a taradiddle when a beloved male friend of mine called at midnight to excitedly announce that he'd just that second,found the pebble he'd brought back for me from the far reaches of the world. The Beloved was miffed that a Man would be calling me at That Hour. I thought thta was very sweet, if mildly Victorian, of my Fella. I very sweetly explained to him at the top of my lungs that my friends can call whenever they please. Another hurdle crossed. Whew.

Up at 5 tomorrow to do yoga and go to the gym. Sigh. No Rest for the Weary. No Peas For the Wicked. No more reading "Twilight" until dawn. [I'm so ashamed.] Onward and Upward! A new Year Awaits! A New Horizon Beckons! But mostly, I wanna get back into my skinny jeans. -Without inserting Velcro.

love and a Happy Newish Year
P