Excuse Me But Can I Be You For A While?

For me, the year 2005 has been one of grinding fatigue and dogged steps toward a new home and a new life. You know what? I'm tired. I spent the today sleeping late, preparing food, eating food, sleeping some more, stuffing old papers into garbage bags, preparing food, eating food, sleeping some more, eating some more, and talking to Siobhan on the phone. Thousands of years ago, I went to poetry boot camp in Provincetown for a week. We ate light vegetarian, went to bed early, walked in the dunes, worked art with great discipline and concentrated on ignoring almost any other stimulus. I need that now, for about a month. So I took Monday off and plan to spend it in my #1 and #2 favorite Hells on Earth: the DMV and the university's parking department, after I miraculously get the attention of New Jersey Cure, the insurance company that is supposed to be my reward for an excellent driving record but has turned out to be what even atheists might term a punishment from God.

I should just kill myself now, but let's change the subject, shall we?

The family store is a big help on the hunt for December holiday gifts. My sisters' and their mom's fantastic taste and imagination merchandise-wise have been a big help with gifts. I hope to make a decent list and pick up a few interesting presies in the next few weeks. My budget is as tight as ever for Christmas, Hanukkah and Yule. Because I don't anticipate ever having more money than I do now, my New Year's resolution is to make more friends in religions without December gift-giving events.

I'm not complaining. I'm setting up a question: If you have ten friends, $100 and none of Georg's fabulous talents, how do you give them presents you didn't get from a gumball machine?

What's your bright idea, dahhhhhhhhhhhling? I want to hear any and all.