"Oooh, precious, it's not fair of it to ask us what it's got in its pocketses!"
Paraphrased, probably. I am enjoying the LOTR trilogy so immensely that I'm actually reading The Hobbit at the same time. I had to know the riddling that went on in that cave! I actually let myself off work two hours early today because the end of my shift saw six of us standing around in an eerie lull. I immediately retreated to bed, bringing the cat with me, to cuddle up in that ideal oblivion of blankets and fantasy literature. I then slept (with less than fantastical nightmares) for several hours until my father woke me up to express that my beloved Charlie Brown Christmas was on TV. (It's the modern parable for postmodern social anxiety, I think. Things are easily mended, though, when Linus gets on his surprising soapbox.)
Our tree is up: glorious fakeness and the same string of lights as ever. I told my father on his way out that I'd put my ornaments up (that's my real holiday tribute to my mother, she prayed I'd never see a naked tree)--but he said, "Good luck finding them." I guess I really will have to find them now, to prove a Christmasy point.
Onto Ebay and online catalogues. I'm sadly barren of good ideas, so my brain's a flat plateau for a miracle.