Alas, that would be me, the fat lady. I usually have curves, but the past couple of years I’ve gotten rolls instead. Not what I’d call a fair trade, but then, I could get off my plushly-upholstered butt and get some exercise, yes? Speaking of which…

I’m not sure if the Cybergypsy intends it to be a Christmas present, but I can see the stationary bicycle that was in the garage is now out on the patio; the unfortunate thing is, unless I remember to buy a tarp, it will simply rust there, same as everything. I know he has no intention of using it, that’s for sure. Unfortunately, until he gets his own space, there’s not enough room in the apartment to put it in here; well, not and use the bathroom.

I could use the patio. It’s a Chinese building: I’d hardly be the first. We really should give new members a user’s guide that includes the words “just because it has a drain doesn’t mean it’s a bathroom.” Urk.

In any case, the Christmas haul now includes a pressie I bought for myself, one upon which I have had my beady little eye-stalks for some time. This:

Yes, it is the famous Sacred Heart of Cthulhu tee, about my longing for which I have previously blogged. It was, of course and naturellement for this is the way the Universe works, in strange ways, particularly relating to me and Cthulhu-themed casual wear, the only thing in the store not on sale, but a sigh, a wistful “oh, I guess it’s not on sale?” and a twisting of coppery-blonde locks resulted in a meagre 10% markdown. What the hell, I was going to buy it come Nodens or Ragnarok. At my age the mere idea that hair-twirling could cause a twentysomething salesboy to give me 10% off is itself worth 90% of retail.

This was, of course, purchased with the complete aggregate of all my Christmas money, leaving me just enough to pay my bills and live off CG’s food for the next week or so. At least I’ll lose weight: right now, he’s soaking some seaweed that looks like sheets of green, striated rubber. It is his intention to use these sheets to make nutburger buns… although if the final product isn’t a helluva lot more appealing than the ingredients you’d have to be a nutburger to put the damn things anywhere near your mouth.

As well, I got a deck of trick cards, two books on true crime (one a how-to), one book about death, a squid tee, a bottle of perfume (a public service as much as a gift, and thank GOD; if my perfume level drops below a certain point, the scent of fish becomes overpowering and you may make of that what you will), one book about health, one book about snobbery, an MP3 player, a Sears gift card, an AT&T card which I hope I can use in Canada but am not sure, and three restaurant gift cards. So I will be fat, fragrant, and funky.

So, no change.

I also got lei’d, but that’s another story.

And, as I am a known Christmas nut, I am determined to keep the holiday going until the last of the gift cards has been drained dry. If I find myself at Milestone’s in the middle of June spending a few Christmas bucks, you’ll find me requesting the calamari with a side of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”

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