Can't blog. Busy playing Guitar Hero and watching Diego's Arctic Rescue like I'm getting paid for it.
Oh, and staying up until FOUR O EFFING CLOCK in the morning reading (i.e. going through half a box of Kleenex) The Time Traveler's Wife. This right here is why I can't read on a regular basis, people. I get a taste of the sweet sweet Novel and I'm like a crack addict: ignoring chores, loved ones, meals, personal hygiene, etc. just for the chance of sneaking in one more page of sweet sweet WORDS. No lie: yesterday I ate nothing but a packet of instant oatmeal and candy from my stocking until seven PM because I was so busy reading. Well, and also cleaning up holiday detritus and doing laundry and feeling resentful that even when it is still technically within the Twelve Days of Christmas (what, you don't celebrate all of them? Pssh. Amateur.) things like dishes and sweeping still kind of beg for your attention.
But there was a LOT of reading sandwiched in there. The low point was when my sister and a friend came over last night to (what else?) play Guitar Hero and American Idol with us, and I was stealthily trying to read in between my turns, then shoving my book under the couch and acting all nonchalant like, "What? Me, antisocial and rude and acting like this book is going to turn into a pumpkin and disappear at midnight? Never."