black chevrolet

alone.  I'm the only one awake in the house.  Boyer's asleep in his own bed in his own room in his parents house.  Mr and Mrs have left for midnight mass, and I am left with the hum of the fridg, the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan, and the incessant whine of John's fricking computer fan. *unplug*

silence.

it's good for the psyche.

I distract myself cheerfully by conjuring memories of stained gray lit plastic snowmen, caved-in Santas and rags of lights drooping toothily from eaves.  The fog in the Central Valley blankets all in a cold damp embrace.  Another puke-brown California Christmas.  I'm trying to think of an appropriate quote from Southpark to insert here, but maybe Kakashi can supply me with the proper quote.  No, in fact I'm sure he can.  Something which mocks the phrase "puke-brown".

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.