Thursday, December 30, 2004

Black Christmas

Where has the holiday blogging gone? I think it started when a foot of snow dumped on Indiana the day before Christmas Eve, snowing us in with knee-deep and above drifts, followed by subzero temperatures that froze my pipes Christmas Day, thawed out four hours later via hair dryer and space heater; then there was the flu my daughter and I have struggled with since, wasting several good loaf-off vacation days (thanks for the flu shots, W!). It was so bad, we actually watched a marathon of The 4400 taped off of the Sci-Fi Channel. So no blogging from my tin-can-and-string home dial-up, and no scriptwriting; I had hoped to work like a coked-up 80s sitcom writer over break, to no avail. Nothing but cough medicine and Alka-Seltzer cold tablets coursing through my veins. Luckily my pal Doug dropped off the Identity Crisis miniseries from DC so that I can slump on the couch and figure out what all the fuss is about.

Favorite gifts: a Carhart suit, a six-foot fiberglass ladder, Bill Clinton's autobiography.

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