Not much news from the apartment recently, 'cuz I haven't been in the apartment lately. As I'm sure most of you know, this past week was the Christmas holiday (Christmas is one of those things that's tough to not be painfully aware of. I believe that stores started preparing for the celebration an hour before Halloween ended. Which makes it kind of funny that I didn't finish my Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve). So I spent a few days on Long Island and a few days in Savannah Georgia. The parents and I headed down to visit my brother and sister-in-law and their new dog in their new house. And a good time was had by all (especially the dog, Quincy, who had more playmates than he knew what to do with).

I was going to go on a bit about the house, and the events of the week and whatnot, but I decided that would be a bit self-indulgent. [You're worried that writing about someone else's house in a personal web log about your apartment is self-indulgent? - ed] So instead I'll give you some thoughts about the dog: Best dog ever. Well, if not the best dog ever, than definitely in the top 5. Part of this fact is just because nearly every dog is one of the best dogs ever, since dogs in general are just so super. Except little yippy dogs, which suck. Never understood the point of those dogs - the only way you can play with them is if you use them as a toy for another larger dog. And while that's a funny thing to think about, it's really not much fun at all (take it from someone who knows). What was my point? Oh right, Quincy. Awesome dog.

One of the good things about dogs is that even the smartest dog isn't that bright. This isn't a drawback - dogs are supposed to be fun-loving, cute, and a source of pleasure for their owner, none of which duties requires an ability to do even simple math. And they don't really have any sense of embarassment. Which means that you can watch a dog walk headlong into a wall (which we did during the dinner hour the other night), shake it's head, and then go right along it's business (which will probably be coming up to you and quietly requesting a belly rub). And cruel it may seem, but that sort of thing is really funny.

Right here I'm making a conscious effort to stop writing about the dog, since I really could just go on for hours. But just to recap my feelings on the matter: Awesome awesome awesome.

I suppose I do have some things to mention about the apartment. I got in yesterday at around 11, and was greeted with the apartment almost exactly as I had left it. I say almost, because (as I was reminded) the fruit spectrum does not go from unripe to ripe. As it turns out, ripe is somewhere in the middle, and out the other side of ripe is icky. There was a bunch of icky fruit in the kitchen waiting for me when I got in, along with a full bag of garbage that I had forgotten to take out when I had left. Neither was so bad, especially as my thoughts were centered around my Bromeliad (Ben - tell Kramer that was from memory) which had gone for the entire week without being watered. It didn't look any worse than when I had left. Which makes a lot of sense, because even when I'm home it will go for a week before I remember to water it anyway.

In any case, after coming home, watering my plant, and taking a shower, I got down to work. My ethernet cable had to be tacked up along with wall, my katana had to be hung, the bathroom and kitchen needed to get cleaned, and all the electronics had to be plugged back in and turned on. So I sat down on the couch and passed out for two hours then got up and went to the movies. What did you expect?