freckles_and_doubt | take me to your lizard

My body (She Is Skraatched) has celebrated the end of the year by coming up with a new slant on random reactions, allergies or diseases: the dry eyelids have spread inexorably downwards to infect my face, neck and shoulders with a sort of itching, blotchy tightness which declines to respond to any treatment in anything but the most negative terms. This is (a) causing my mother to drift around the house bemoaning the fact that I didn't inherit her immune system (she's not allergic to anything, I'm probably a changeling), and (b) making me slightly suspect I'm in the process of turning into something scaly, draconine and inappropriate. Either that, or I've been watching waaaaay too much Roswell (which I have - interesting teenage-groping Max dreams last night, and dissolving into dust in swimming pools) and have convinced myself I'm a Skin. Giant tracts of sloughed-off epidermis coming soon to a beleaguered form near you. Can't wait. In the meantime, I suggest anyone meeting me stick to air-kisses, I may be contagious, and please be kind and don't stare at my blotching. Also, the antihistamine tablets are making me even more spacey than usual, conversations void where prohibited by logic.

I am slightly copping out of large New Year parties this year, owing to sudden people-surfeit; we're doing dinner with jo&stv and have pledged to finish early if we're all tired and go to bed instead of sticking it grimly out for midnight. The plan is for vaguely larney three-course meal - starter, fillet of beef chasseur, crepes suzette. Because, of course, the Christmas season really needs another giant blow-out to populate its foodless wastes. Memo to self, tell the EL to lay in champagne. (I cannot sufficiently stress how much easier my life would be if I could simply persuade the EL to read this bloody blog, but he won't. Sigh. For a programmer he's a total techno-luddite, and besides, declines to get into blog-reading on the grounds of actual work or something. Pshaw. Feeble excuse.)

I'm declining to go all retrospective on 2008. Despite giving me more work validation, actual money and indulgence of my book, music and DVD habit than any other year heretofore, 2008 has made me cross. I hereby resolve to kick 2009's butt and make it behave.