O hay, everyone! Hope you all had a merry Christmas and stuff. I've had a great Christmas, mingling with the family just enough to be happy but not stabby and with my doggies, of whom I can never tire (the cat is a different story). I've walked in winter sunshine on a crisp Christmas morning, met with Chris and Pen and Kelly and shopped. My mother and I cooked a ridiculously fantastic Christmas dinner and there is central heating and double-glazing. It's been great, but not as great to be online again and have hours of my life sapped away by the internet. :D
Let me tell you about my worst gift, in the spirit of Scrooge: my brother bought me an insultingly cheap, indifferent book called Cities, presumably because he picked it up, thought 'Oh, Becky likes cities and stuff' and thought that'd do.
EXCEPT. It has a bright yellow cover, with stupid text and a painting of some fake city and it's a FANTASY BOOK WITH EXCERPTS FROM STORIES ABOUT CITIES. AND PROBABLY GOBLINS AND UNICORNS. I could not be less likely to read a book unless it was written by Jade Goody. I am so upset. At least a crappy bathset is still useful; a bad book hurts to the core. I dread to see what loserface gets me for my birthday.
My sister got me the Nightwatch DVDs, the Twilight Watch book and, continuing with the Russian theme in a more dubious manner, In the Court of the Red Tsar. That's a little more like it. The rest of the stuff was horribly useful: a bathrobe, slippers, gloves, clothes, household knicknacks. I have finally grown up. :D
The best present was a laptop. All right, so I bought it for me, but I've been promising myself this since I started my new job. I chose an HP laptop, partly because my work one is pretty damned good and also out of company loyalty. Er, yeah. Don't let me down, bb. I also caved and bought the O2 modem for mobile broadband, which offers a slow connection but at least is a connection of sorts. It was also less than a third of the price for the 3G one, so I guess I can't be too choosy.
I thought I'd get a lot of reading done whilst I was at home, but forgot about the dogs and the family and the friend!visits, so all I've managed in the last week and a half is a book of short stories by Ian McEwan: First Love, Last Rites.
Now, I lovelovelove Atonement and I know I'll plunder my way through the rest of his books, but this collection is weird, man. The stories are unpleasant, though obviously well-written. None of them have really affected me, although I do love short stories. It's very much a 'meh' read, but good to pass the time. Incidentally, he uses the word 'c*nt' in most of the stories. Oh, Ian. You're such a c...ard.