Shameless Santa

The previous two years on this blog, I did posts about what I wanted for Christmas, worded somewhat cleverly [okay, "cleverly" is being kind to myself there] as letters to Santa. I honestly never expected to get anything I mentioned either time, and for at least the first entry, I think I was kind of play acting "ah, if this were only the Christmas I wanted it to be, then I'd get this, this, and this." It made me feel a little more in the spirit to do it, stirred some Christmas cheer in me, if you will, but this year, with one or two more people reading who don't know me, and who might think it less capricious and more annoying, I thought I'd forgo that.

I couldn't rightfully tell you any specific thing that I want this year anyway, and honestly I've always preferred giving gifts as opposed to receiving them. I do have a load of books, and a couple of odds and ends in the way of office supplies, on my Amazon Wish List, though I'll admit I keep that more for myself, to unclutter my bookmarks menu, than I do for any other reason. Still, if you did come looking for a hint of something to get me this year, I'll link it here. I'm also a sucker for scarves, and moleskin notebooks. As far as music and movies go, I've gone about as digital as you can get [unless it's something indie, or rare], so I guess you could call me a man of simple tastes now: Books, stationary, and neck wear.

Truman Capote would be proud.

Which is not to say I'm abandoning the spirit of the season. Almost all the decorations are up here [though I'm contemplating tinsel... oh God, how I'm contemplating it], hoping next week to go out and get some candles as well. If the rot-smelling-hell of whatever it was that died under the house left any sort of impression, it was that I actually took some kind of strange pleasure in the ritual of lighting candles, and often while doing so my thoughts turned to Christmas in a Pavlovian sort of way that I didn't expect. Admittedly, I felt entirely less punk rock sorting through the abysmal selection at Kmart the other day, but the hell with it. If I have to look less cool to make this Christmas awesome, I'll take the hit.

Isolated as I am, I'm not entirely sure why I worry about that sort of thing anyway. I mean, really, who am I trying to impress?

I got an e-mail from Ander the other day, just a nice, "getting to know the person I was working with" sort of letter, which considering how all-business both of us have been to get "A Change is Gonna Come" done, was a nice change of pace. Instant chemistry like this always needs explored, and I'll probably talk a little more about the workhorse of an illustrator who wrangled me for a comic in the future [odd, because usually I'm the wrangler]. And Ander if you're reading this, I'm going to send you a proper reply soon, but... your comment on my previous post gave me an idea for something new, and I'm putting a lot of my free time towards trying to work that out into a story. Apologies. Nothing will kill correspondence faster than a new idea.

Blogging too. I'm really only posting this because I realized it's Thursday, and my last post on anything was Monday... probably more like Sunday night. And since then, December's come.

Ah. And not just December. Today [yesterday now], was the first snow of the season. Walked out in it in my coat and pajamas to get the mail, felt it fall on my shoulders and in my hair, watched it melt not too quickly, as the wind did it's best to cut right through me. Brilliant feeling. Not enough snow for coverage, but it's in the air now. Everything is dull, and gray, and dead, just waiting for that one morning when it'll hit again, hit hard, and leave everything all bright and exhilarating -- and clean.

I've missed that.