Yep, I'm still shit at blogging daily/frequently/ever. I was feeling pleased with how up I was keeping it in November though, until Thanksgiving came and unseated my life with all the shopping and cooking and stressing out unnecessarily. That was fun though. We had ten folks at dinner who all brought tasty food things and there were two dogs and dancing after and it was quite a fine time.
Two issues were 1) that I tried to induce toasting in the style of the Harvard Lampoon but people were feeling shy or hungry or just not moved by the occasion so it did not catch on though my good/only friend here, Bootsy, did make me cry with her earnest Thanksy toasting; 2) as seems to be the norm in our Cambridge life, Stan and I were inclined to make merry exuberantly than the rest of our cohort (except Bootsy, who does know how to send it). I should not say that we made merrier, because by all accounts everyone enjoyed themselves, so I shouldn't judge the manner by which they did so, but because I don't know most of them well and because of bourbon, gin, wine, and port, I endured some fairly rigorous moral darkness over the rest of the weekend wondering whether everyone hated us and were shocked and/or appalled by our hosting style and revelry. Now I am over it and know that the problem was largely to do with hangover coupled with a cold someone brought their cold and forgot to take it home with them. Plus, I have terminal vision for events like that, so for two weeks all things led to Thanksgiving and then when it was over I was left to wonder- now what?
Since then I figured out that what now is to get busy at work and start getting ready for Christmas. Enter two strands of twinkle lights, a miniature poinsettia, and an hour since I started writing this. The end.