So, does anybody actually go out on Black Friday to shop for anyone but themselves? (I wound up that way, this year, but I’ll ignore that for now.)

Per tradition, I slept in and wandered over to Fred Meyer for the last half-hour of their early-bird sale. I came out one CD richer (or one CD poorer, if you’re the type who prefers to focus on money and not the material goods acquired), and with one part of my gift to Brian acquired. Unlike last year, I did not witness anybody keel over in front of the customer service desk. I did put a dollar in the Salvation Army pot on my way out, ’cause it just doesn’t feel like Christmas until I do that. (They have a good racket going, in that sense.)

Given my propensity to purchase goods online (and my aversion to crowds), I don’t actually see all that many Salvation Army pots these years. Consequently, I need to make the most of them when I do run across one.

I still remember fondly, one Christmas in high school, a group of my friends all signed up to man the Salvation Army pot in front of the local Rite-Aid for an hour. We ran out of Christmas carols to sing long before our time was up (sure, we knew various Christmas songs—it just turned out that we didn’t really remember all of them), and so resorted to singing anything else that we could all sing along with.

The first (and last) song we sang, in that spirit, was The Itsy-Bitsy Spider. Some guy passing through donated money on the condition that we never sing that song again… it was the proudest donation our group earned, in my estimation.

Another year I ran into Rose and part of her family guarding a pot in front of Fred Meyer, and was coerced into singing with them while Marin finished her shopping. They complained afterwards (good-naturedly) that they couldn’t really hear me singing—at the time, I figured that was the best possible outcome I could have. (I really was singing, by the way. I wasn’t faking.) I’ll never be known for my stellar voice, though in more-recent years I’ve started caring less about protecting others’ ears.

I mean, not too long ago poor Robin had to put up with me singing along to The Rainbow Connection as we waltzed. I really wasn’t singing well (for me) that night, either.

And that brings me to the only other point that exists in my mind at this hour of the morning: it seems that dance has taken over my life. I might even dare to label myself a “dancer,” despite the disservice I would do to that title. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not (though it certainly passes the “do you enjoy it and does it do no harm” test)….

Much like my other interests, dance leaves me with little to talk about with others. It’s not like people get together and talk about dancing when they’re not dancing (at least, I hope not). Anime isn’t especially useful in daily conversation, either, nor is an interest in Macs. Politics is dangerous territory that I’ve (re-)learned to stay away from, and so that pretty much leaves me with the weather.

Damn cold weather we’ve been having, eh?