(no subject)

Why can't I ever wash that horrid vanilla-mint sunscreen chapstick with my clothes instead of the cherry chapsticks? That's the second one this month!

Mom called this evening - my grandparents are safely ensconced their new place in Long Island, and everything's set for the holidays: Dru's new car (free, smells like rat) is waiting for him in New York, my plane tickets are reserved for the 22nd, and I'm fretting over presents.

Punk goes Pop for the drummer coz, something sailor-y for the surfer coz, I may consult with Kris for the Office-supply fetishist coz, and I'm simply at a loss for the mid-wife coz. I did hit the Made in Washington store, and as soon as the next paycheck rolls in, I'll be getting salmon and other Seattle-ish things for the extended family. Oh, and letters. Yes, Mom. I'll write everyone letters. Sheesh.

I'm transcribing old journal entries from my full scribble-book that never quite made it online. Entries and snippets of fic and two-month old wish lists. I'm rewarding myself - for every page I transcribe, I get to read another chapter of Lust over Pendle.

Or maybe I could log into Hell...