Home is where the heart is. And the brain. And the bed. I miss the bed. In fact, should still be in the bed. No matter. Onwards.

Merry, merry belated whateveritisyoucelebrate. I'm back at the office after a long four day weekend of cat-petting, gift-giving, fine cuisine, horrific airport experiences, couch-bed slumbering, and my first (and let's hope only) smooth-jazz Christmas concert, which was spectacularly incomprehensible and filled with oh so much yogurty-smooth flugelhorn. And I'm exhausted. My flight last night was delayed because that guy in orange with the plane-parking light sabers apparently blew it and two planes had themselves a little fender-bender, so everything was pushed back (two hours in my case), and, by the time I got home, well, let's just say I should've drove. But then, if I'd driven, I couldn't have spilled a Miller Lite on my shoes. So I'd've missed out on that.

Still: I had a wonderful weekend. It was great to see the folks, my sister, and spend Christmas in San Diego, sweating in short sleeves. Sure, the only thing keeping me from being a proper zombie is the fact that I don't want to eat the brains of my co-workers, but it's MonWednesday, I've got a three-day work-week followed by a damn fine New Year's Eve show, and I'm wearing new shoes. No complaining allowed.

Oh yeah. And James Brown's dead. That's a bummer. He was one funky criminal, I'll tell you. I'll confess to thinking almost all his songs sound the same but, hey, they all sounded pretty good. So's Gerald Ford, who the news keeps asking me to remember, but who was president before I was born, essentially on accident (his presidency, not my birth...I hope), so I really can't oblige. Plus, I can't recall him doing much during my lifetime, honestly. But let it be known: 2007 will be less funky. And less that-guy-who-wasn't-Spiro-Agnew-y. And that's all I have to say about that.

Hmm. I feel like I had an amusing story to tell but forgot all about it. This is possible. I blame the non-sleep and the brain-pain. Maybe it'll dawn on me later. For now, let me say welcome back to those of you who spent the weekend away, "sorry" to those of you who didn't, and "rest up" to those of you I'll be seeing on Sunday. It's going to be a fun, champagne-y sort of evening. Until tomorrow.