Tonight would be a good night for cuddling. (Ha! As if most nights aren't.) It's cold out. My Christmas playlist is going strong, and my hair is still wet from cleaning up after kendo practice.

We're having practice next week too. Christmas Eve. It's surreal how not-a-big-deal Christmas is here, and I do not like it. I feel strongly that Christmas should be surrounded with blinking lights and the smell of pine and pie. There should be stockings, my parents, and a large fake tree weighted down with their collected ornaments. All I have is a tiny poinsettia and the Christmas playlist.

I'm a little irrationally upset about the way this holiday season is unfolding. It will be a good Christmas. I'll be with nice people who mostly speak English even. Still though.

To be honest, life is going well. Mainly as I planned.

And then, if you were here, I'd begin to talk about Orson Scott Card's books and how they're infuriating and disappointing. I just read the Ender saga. I'd peter off after a bit. Coldplay in the background. We'd both be quiet for a minute, and then a little awkwardly we'd go to our beds and fall asleep. If you were here.