Like You Were the Only Man

Fucking Blogger! This happens every New Year's, when Siobhan heads for a more sympathetic jurisdiction. Last year, Blogger and PIC's host quit talking to each other over a family recipe dispute, I guess. I mean, who knows? But when the pie hit the buffet table, the cinnamon flew and sticky fingerprints still dot the blog, which is stuck. Last night, Pete and I stayed up late into the night, talking with with my seasonally distressed stepmommy Darla, and this morning, nobody slept. It was a hard, restless night; so naturally, today the family again celebrated Christmas. Rejoice! I'm exhausted and Jewish but damn it, there's chateaubriand!