Sexy, pretty, gender-bendy Campari ad

My roomba is great, except when it gets suicidal and jams itself under the futon. It's kind of obsessed with doing that.

My nephew T LOVES the tree. My brother says he stands in front of it and starts just shrieking with delight and doing the overwhelmed-too-much-joy body shimmy. I definitely heard the first part of that when on the phone. Brother is thinking he may end up staying in 'bama. He's got a good offer there. But he's not totally sure yet.

It's funny to me how blond I was when I was little. My dad's sister looks very much like her mother did. And you can see Pomps in my brother very easily.

Anyone who feels they've gotten a substandard tree should pause to consider my father [link] and I think you'll find you're doing okay.

I use Twitterific. Or, well, I have it installed. In the event I ever remember I have a Twitter account.

I just found out via my neighborhood Yahoo group that my subway station bathroom is apparently a known cruising spot for gay sex. Really guys? 'Cause I guarantee you there are better options on the F line for anonymous gay sex than a subway bathroom in Brooklyn.

Your subways have bathrooms?

Some of them, yeah. They're icky.

My aunt, who is possibly one of the least hip people in the world, just recommended one of the Jewish hipster blogs to me. (One I've been reading for a few years, actually, but one that pretty much has the reputation of being mostly obsessed with "underground" Jewish music and being more-progressive-than-thou. I've seen posters there declare "too mainstream" a guy who had one video that had some airplay on MTV for about a week and performed once or twice on the late-night talk shows.) But anyway, I sent out an email to a few family members about a new version of the dreidel song put out by Sasha Baron Cohen's brother, with a link to the youtube video for the song. There's a wall of graffiti featured pretty prominently in the video which has "Yeshua," the Hebrew for Jesus, written in huge red letters. My email was essentially, "Does that say what I think it says? And if so, huh?" She responded with "It sure looks like it says what you think it says. You should take a look at what the posters on [blog] have to say about it."

I'm puzzled.

Here's the video, if anyone's curious: [link]

brenda, your dad cracks me up.

mac has made his selections for grandma, grandad, and uncle. YAY! I can get them all online or by phone and will be done this week!

Ultimately Emmett picked her up and she rode on the tree the last half block home.

Hec and family have somehow fallen into a made-for-TV Christmas movie. Next I expect there will be dancing and spontaneous song.

I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to put up my pre-lit fake tree. I thought I'd never give in to the fake tree, but after spending two hours trying to straighten a tree in its stand by myself a couple of years ago, I went out right after Christmas and bought one for half price. My plan for tomorrow is to climb to the top of my pull-down attic stairs and stare at the boxes that say "Christmas."