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Christmas is, of course, for those of us who live in New Orleans, merely the first of a rush of events and holidays New Year’s follows, and the Sugar Bowl, and of course the college football playoffs (GEAUX TIGERS!) and the NFP playoffs (GEAUX SAINTS!), Twelfth Night and the start of Carnival, and then comes the start of the parades and then, for those in the Lost Apartment, a month later the Williams Festival and Saints & Sinners. The sudden dip in temperature has helped, and the few cards we’ve gotten in the mail, but I am so busy and focused on other things that the days pass and I don’t really give it much of a thought. Listening to Spotify on my phone in the car through the stereo has eliminated my need to listen to radio streaming services have eliminated most of the Christmas commercials and so forth besieging everyone on television. It’s hard to believe that Christmas is nigh.
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I don’t know how I feel about that–I am opposed to people having to work on Christmas, but us not going to a movie on Christmas doesn’t mean the theaters will close next year. Paul and I have decided, rather than going to see Rise of Skywalker this weekend, to go on Christmas day as a treat to ourselves for the holiday. It’s very much a Western, set in space the original Star Wars was also kind of a space Western it certainly owed a lot to the Western genre and of course, baby Yoda is simply too cute and adorable for words. We caught this week’s new episode of The Mandalorian last night (the previous night we caught up on Dublin Murders), and I have to say, I love this show. Yesterday I was still off my game from the sleeplessness of Monday night perhaps now I should be back to normal and tomorrow I intend to set my alarm and get up between seven and eight–lagging around in bed until eight-thirty or nine is counterproductive, despite how good it might actually feel. I’m back to sleeping well again–and sleeping in every morning much later than I probably should. Someone has surely by now written such a story, right? Today’s title is perhaps one of the most annoying Christmas carols of all time ever since I became aware of gay culture and community, I’ve amused myself with reimagining it–and the stop-motion cartoon version of it that airs every year–as a gay leather Christmas story.