"wash, i'm bald!"

So, I sort of disappeared for a bit, then, didn't I? Well, I went carolling with the girls, and that sort of mutated into me spending the night at Victoria's, which was great fun. Carolling was also great fun, and it motivated me to sew the buttons back onto my tweed coat. Unfortunately it also required me to wear a skirt which is more or less falling apart, which got to be a bit awkward when I was staying over at the Nielson's without a change of clothing. Anyway, it was dark and the snow was glittering beneath the house lights and we all sounded very nice. The residents of several of the houses looked as though we'd made their night, which was heart-cockle warming to be sure. And then there was the teenaged boy who opened the door, listened to us for a while in a very bemused fashion (while text messaging, apparently), and then shut the door in our faces when we were a line or two from finishing. We think he then sat down at the computer, or so the silhouette in the window told us.

We stopped in for a bit at the Husses, and then went to the Nielsons' to hobnob, have very delicious cocoa (the sort one makes on the stove and not from a mix, which I shall have to have a go at sometime, especially after I harangue Mum into buying some whipped cream for the pie I plan to make for Christmas), admire Victoria's lovely Edwardian and very steampunk jacket, and generally talk loudly with grand hand motions and dance round the room and arbitrarily burst into song. You know, those sorts of things. And then Victoria and I decided that I would stay the night and proceeded to convince our mothers of this. (This thing in which spur-of-the-moment ideas actually happen: I am not used to it at but it is rather wonderful, if slightly dizzying.) Eventually, this led to being up at midnight, cutting out gingerbread with cookie cutters. We got a bit bored of the traditional shapes and began cutting out more interesting things, such as the TARDIS and the Sorting Hat (we were trying for a lightning bolt but neither of us could get it right) and a hobbit hole and a wardrobe and a round cookie on which we drew the Serenity logo with decorator's icing the next morning. She also taught me to play blackjack and ratscrew, which was especially interesting when we were sitting in her attic bedroom, hunched over a small lamp, playing cards in the dark. We played quite a lot of games of ratscrew, so that I got better at it, although I really only won the last one because Victoria was beginning to nod off. She also lent me her copy of Sorcery and Cecelia, which is positively delicious and I am halfway through re-reading it. (Hush now; I read very quickly. Which is why I read everything twice so long as it is not absolutely awful.)

In the morning, Alessandra came by not very long after we woke up (which was late), and we made the decorator's icing for the cookies and started decorating them. We'd begun on some gingerbread men when I thought, well, wouldn't it be brilliant if we made all the crew of Serenity out of gingerbread? Which I voiced aloud: so we did it. We used the regular gingerbread cookies for the blokes and snapped the wings off of some angels for the women. Alessandra had Mal, Inara, and Jayne; Victoria took Wash, Zoe, and River; and I did Simon, Kaylee, and Book. Oh, it was lovely. Especially Jayne, who is instantly, hilariously recognisable. And River, who is carrying round a deer's head.  And Mal, who was bald for quite some time ("Wash! I'm bald!"). (And yes, there will be pictures forthcoming.) Then, because we are really approximately nine years old at heart, we took them into the parlour and played with them. Then we watched The Phantom of the Opera, divvied up the singing parts (Victoria was Christine, Alessandra was Raoul, and I was the Phantom, ostensibly because my voice is the deepest, but I am sure there was some darker motive involved), and Alessandra beat me up with a ketchup bottle.

I slept rather a lot today for some reason. Hmm.

Perhaps soon I will stop having a life and begin making proper posts again.