Random non-bullets of Boxing Day early morning

I was composing bits of this post in my head and it hit me (not for the first time) that I'm a style chameleon to an embarrassing extent. When I've just been reading Badger, I sort of write like Badger. When I've just been reading Phantom, I sort of write like Phantom. When I've just been reading Milkbreath, I sort of write like Rachel, except more verbose and not as witty.

But I've just been reading EVERYONE, so maybe I'll sound like me.

If that last post seemed kind of bare-bones, it's probably because I was dashing it off with one foot out the door (No, not writing with my foot, silly), checking the flight schedule in between, about to head off to New York with the Mermaid Girl! (Not RW, alas; she has to work, since she took last week off. Ah, the joys of freelance...) And we're here now! She's sleeping in the foldout futon in my dad's office and I'm up early after 5 hours sleep, insomniac. I finished my review book and I'm sneaking onto his laptop (not that I'm very sneaky, since he reads my blog. Hi, Dad!).

High point so far: Sitting around the dining room table with MG, my dad, my stepmom, my brother, my sister-in-law, my stepsister, and her boyfriend, talking talking talking about card games and airplane food and Diana Wynne Jones and why the third "His Dark Materials" book totally SUCKS, all while I tore into leftover Christmas lambchop dinner lovingly cooked and reheated by my stepmother, who even made my child her own custom grilled cheese sandwich. After which MG's temper notably improved, and she trounced my stepmom in a game of Memory.

Did you know that on Delta now everyone gets their own personal TV screen? Your choice of 10 movies costs $5, but if you buy the headset (two bucks! and MG got hers for free because it was Christmas and because her life is just like that) you can listen to a couple dozen CDs and watch all kinds of television (cable! and we don't have cable!). MG was glued to The Cartoon Network for most of the 6-hour flight, switching over to the audio-only setting only when the signal got scrambled midflight.

Which is how she came to be exposed to the glory that is the Chipmunks Christmas Album. I could see it working its evil magic as her face lit up in rapture on hearing the first squeaky notes. Thank God and technology I couldn't hear them myself, as my headphones were plugged in to the Bruce Springsteen Seeger Sessions, which I've heard so much about and now must have. Must. Have. Must!

When the signal came back, we settled in to watch the first half of "Spirited Away" on Cartoon Network. MG's seen it before and I didn't think anything of it (except how exquisitely beautiful it was) until late, late last night, when I'd finally tucked us both into bed and turned out the light, and she whispered to me, "Are the things in Spirited Away real?" I assured her they weren't. But after a few minutes she whispered, "I don't want to see that movie ever again." And grabbed my arm around her.

You know, she seemed so grown-up all day, swanning around in her new denim vest from Uncle Skaterboy, ordering apple juice with aplomb, holding her own with the gaggle of grownups around the dining table till well after midnight. I forget she's still little. I think she does, too.

Ohhh, sleepy. I hope I get a nap today, after the presents.