Bet the ranch

I did not succeed at gathering all of my holiday gifts. Despite two days of going into stores and looking at merchandise I still couldn't find the perfect gift. A lot of that has to do with limited funding. If Bill Gates wanted to sponsor my holiday shopping then this could all go completely differently. A lot more holiday gifts would be for myself, and they would involve expensive cars and weekend getaways to Las Vegas in addition to the small knick-knacks and clothing that I've been ogling. The good news is that from my experiences the past few days, the economy seems to be picking up. There have been tons of people out shopping. Good for the U.S., bad for me (in the short run). Long lines, small children running into me, and an apparent Asian invasion (alliteration then rhyming - I win!) have made shopping less pleasurable than it might have been.

Rebecca's birthday is today, but facebook listed it as yesterday. Dozens of people wrote on her wall wishing her a happy birthday...yesterday. Whoops. Facebook has, sadly, replaced most of our knowledge regarding birthdays. There are maybe five to ten people whose birthday I am certain of without needing to consult facebook. Part of that is me being bad at remembering birthdays, but the far larger part of that is facebook governing my reality to a certain extent. And I am clearly not unique in this manner. Exhibit 1: Rebecca's wall yesterday on her non-birthday. In retrospect I wish I had posted the lyrics to "A Very Merry Unbirthday" (from Alice in Wonderland, the Disney version) on her wall as a warning to the perceptive on facebook. Or at least sung it to her mockingly yesterday. But alas, I did not. Instead I got tapas and sangria with her, Jessica, and Vanessa yesterday, which was pretty good also. And by pretty good I mean delicious and normally out of my price range. But I didn't even have to sell the ranch! I like that phrase. But I'm sort of glad I don't have a ranch because if I did I'm sure I would foolishly and needlessly put the deed on the table in the midst of some high stakes poker game which I stupidly sought out. Just to fit into a cliche. It would be awesome. Until my ranch was owned by the other guy from the saloon poker game and all I had to my name was a six shooter and a taste for revenge. Now I'm just mixing generic Western movie things together. But I like it that way.

This Nigerian guy tried to blow up an airplane. Thanks, jerk. Now there will be even more increased security. It's bad enough that I have to take my shoes off and tread through the metal detector barefoot every time I board a plane. I wonder what the next step is. But props to the other passengers and the crew who jumped on him. It's becoming quite perilous to pull some crap on an airplane. I'm glad everyone is on edge, ready to put you in a full nelson the minute they see you mixing suspicious liquids and powders. Or trying to light your shoes on fire, looking like an idiot.

Lady Gaga is very catchy. Make a note of that.