wildcat

I have what you might call the idea of a hangover all around in the insides of my ears, like residual wax after a night with a Q-tip. I've given up after an overload of family and ended up in Christie's Pub with Michael, Paton, Nathan, Ayla, Robbie and Jonas yesterday. Before that, Michael and I drowned sorrows in leftover stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Nice to meet the much-referenced Ayla, and it made me long for friends from other cities. Plus Lise emailed me and Matthew phoned and left a message, which made me crave a session with each of them. Matthew's trapped in PG, and my mother asked me yesterday if I was honestly never coming back. My answer? Probably not. There's very little there for me anymore.

Tomorrow is my day by myself. I'm going to smear Tea Tree Oil facial exfoliant on my face like war paint and sit in front of my laptop with Season 2 of Alias playing for a few hours. Then I'm going to see if Joy (who's taken to quoting me) will come write with me. I want to work on the "Half-Frog Beast with Bulbous Eyes" short story, polish it a bit. There's a section I'm overcome with the desire to rewrite. I'll be sitting around naked, as well, because I'm tired of being in clothes all the time.

New Years Eve is mere days away and there's probably going to be a fiasco. A brilliant, confused, sideways-leaning fiasco.

And I miss my friend Brandon. He needs to come home from, uh, home.