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Fudge is now a tradition.

Our Thanksgiving is going to rock. My roommates are all here, and the boy came in. myrrhianna is cooking food that will have us in leftovers for a good long time (I love leftovers), and we have Karaoke Revolution and I have a box to get set up. There may or may not be other people dropping by.

I have IRC running, and more people I love touching base in there, sharing their days with me. Mama will probably call; I love my Mama.

There is already fudge, and I have tangerines. I love tangerines. There will also be turkey, and ham, and potatoes, and green beans, and cheese, and fruit, and whatever else Myrrh takes it into her head to prepare. We will all be helping out, but on days like this, she rules the kitchen.

There was some difficulty getting the giblets out of the bird.

tamnonlinear has a hysterical theory about Santa. (Seen all over my friends page.)

1st North American Discworld Convention. There will be a rush on that weekend at work. It's local.

Cox shapes traffic if they think you're being a bandwidth-hogging ass on their connection.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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