Christmas went well enough, I suppose. I managed to escape the family fray by hiding in the laundry room with the phone to call my own family until almost everyone else had left. I made out well, though, and got a beautiful pair of diamond and sapphire earrings from Luke. I'm hoping to get a matching ring for Valentine's Day *wink nudge*.

I've been fanatically making things in my new Crock Pot, too. Chili, pea soup, a pork roast for tonight. It hit home yesterday when I was talking about it with a coworker and she told me, "You're such a little homebody." I guess I am.

I'm sick, too; joy of joys. I woke up on Monday morning and Luke asked me how I was. My response? "I feel like Crappy McCrapperson." Then I lay down on the couch and pretty much stayed there drinking tea all day and watching Gilmore Girls on DVD.

I cut myself pretty sweetly on New Year's Day, but decided it wasn't bad enough for stitches. One of the gifts I got from work was a French press, and in using said press, you have to empty out all the stuff that's been compacted in the bottom. I, thinking it would be fairly easy to dislodge, smacked it with the hell of my right hand. Right. That's when the flimsy glass bottom gave way and my hand went right through it. S.O.B.

Do I wish I could update more often? Yes. Do I wish I could do it somewhere other than work? Yes. Like, at home? Yes.