Which is ironic, considering that I'm having one of my nicest visits home in some time. Fun with the family, a minimum of arguing with the parents (though they really get frustrated over my sleep schedule). Christmas was wonderful; quiet, but blessed. I'm not sure what it was, it's not that the food was more delicious or the gifts more spectacular than usual (though both were wonderful), and I missed the members of my extended family who weren't there, but it was just nice. Really, really nice.
So I'm hanging out at home, catching up on Homicide and Law and Order (Homicide just restarted its series run on CourtTV at 1 AM Eastern time; if you've never seen this show, do yourself a favor and check it out, and pick up the book by David Simon while you're at it), crocheting my afghan (which is coming along beautifully and rather speedily), shopping with my mother, hugging Tigger even when he doesn't want it (which is pretty much all the time), singing to my brother's fat gecko Felix (who probably doesn't appreciate the singing any more than Tigger appreciates the hugging), trying to jump-start some weight loss (I'm tired of looking like a cow. Mooooooo), enjoying my Christmas gifts (which include that rose quartz heart I wanted, the VCR, and some cash which I put towards a percussion massager, wow), and swooning over Phil.
Though I've been hinting around the subject, I want to tell everyone now. I've met someone wonderful and his name is Phil. And I'm just so happy I could... well, I don't know what, but it's good.