'Tis The Season

To go postal, falalalala-lalalala.....

Oi. Christmas shopping. The time of year where any modicum of intelligence flees from people of all races, creeds and colours. You know what I mean, the drivers are focused on getting to the mall, the shoppers are blind to traffic because they need to find that perfect present, and the malls. My gods, the malls.

This year I tried to organize a rota with my brothers: we would each get a sub-set of the super-sized family, but presents only for those folks and then put all our names on the card. Simple, effective and time saving.

Didn't work: one doesn't want to get gifts for some parts of the extended family, another hates Christmas shopping so much he refuses to leave the house. Meanwhile, it was me who had to go emergency shopping, go to everyone in Calgary who am I related to and pick up their presents and deliver them to the middle of bald ass prairie to give to my mother. She of course traded off her gifts which I intend to distribute to the family in Calgary by the "Come and pick it up your own damn self!" methodology.

Bah. Humbug.

Add to that I'm trying to actually get packed to move on Saturday. The end result would be the aforementioned "postal" thing.

Except...

Her name is Laura and it is kind of scary how well we get along how compatible we seem to be and how much we are into each other so very, very quickly. We've only been on two dates, but there's chemistry, sparks, philosophy and little family health thrown in to boot.

I won't go into the sappy stuff, but it's good sappy stuff. She loves Shakespeare. Those that know me know what kind of effect that has to have. I even went so far as to send her links to the writing site (and there's a new interview here as well). And to here. But I had second thoughts on this one: there's alot of things here that don't paint me in the best light, so I asked her to hold off. And, amazingly, I do trust her to hold off: she's an honest gal, right up front.

So, right now I have to update the resume, finish the bloody Christmas shopping, pack away some stuff so I can talk to Laura again.

Yup, Moby is genuinely smitten. Damn if it isn't a Christmas miracle.