I'm listening to The Chinese Democracy, and it's probably no coincidence that Hell is freezing over outside (taking my car with it). I'm sort of enjoying it so far, but was this really worth the ten year wait and endless blithering? I remember being excited about seeing them at the Docklands in 2001 or so, but monumental weirdo Buckethead got an aneurysm and the gig was cancelled. We'd constructed a really elaborate plan to get press passes as well, involving a fraudulent Guns N' Roses fanzine from Uzbekistan which we claimed to write for.
It's 2009, and things are approaching returning to normal. I've an exciting new kitchen filled with state-of-the-art appliances I don't know how to use, my Christmas visitors have returned home (BACKGROUND NOTE: while Annie is away teaching rich people how to slide down snowy hills with sticks, I was looking after her pet geckos when nobody else would be around to), it's REALLY cold, I've written my first essay in six-and-a-bit years and work ploughs ahead with our assessment. We're doing something very odd and rather interesting.
Christmas was *lovely*.