(A fruitcake of holiday thoughts, wherein each point is a different fruit or nut, and the batter is the overriding theme of the Christmas season, and the rum is… rum.)

1. I just love this. And he’s on Twitter now! My parents never bothered with the Santa myth, I’d look under the tree and see an unlabelled present and be all “Oh, oh! Is that from Santa?” and my mother would swoop out of nowhere and go, “NO, it’s from your Auntie Liddy. The tag fell off.” But if I had kids, I’d ensure that they believed in Santa to an appropriate age and had their illusions appropriately shattered. I think it’s important – no, I do! – to a normal, healthy childhood with a normal measure of hope, belief, suspended incredulity, and societal standards. And this whole NORAD thing, genius.

2. Crazy White Girl’s cookies? PERFECT. Perfect beyond perfect. I’m so happy to have found a tard-proof recipe for ginger cookies (my favourite). I didn’t have enough butter, set the oven to the wrong temperature, used baking powder instead of baking soda, and accidentally left them out overnight, and they still ended up soft, dense, rich, and spicy. Like Nigella Lawson! But in cookie form. Unfortunately, my freezer is now stuffed with the things because a) the recipe makes quite a few, and b) I forgot that no one else in my family likes the taste of ginger. Boo-urns.

3. It’s been a funny year for everyone, the ‘global economic crisis,’ yada yada, and I feel a strange and real sense of shame over not being able to spend $200 per person or buy gifts for some of my more far-flung friends. But I’ve been watching ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ practically nonstop for the past five days and that’s helping quite a bit, surprisingly. It’s like counter-propaganda. Remember when they’re all standing around the tree and the sun is coming up? “Somehow or another, it came… just the same.” If you’re in my boat, don’t feel bad about not going all-out for Christmas. You will still be loved if you haven’t stuck Tiffany diamonds under the tree.

4. I owe a lot of people a lot of e-mails, including you, Michael H. Kelly, but in the meantime, if your advance is running low, how about this? You’ve got till January 19th to apply, apparently. Don’t say I never did you no favours! (To non-MHK readers, click the link anyway. Ees funny.)

Everybody have a merry, warm, and safe Christmas! And if I hear about you drinking and driving, I will come to your house, wherever you are, and fuck you up. Are we clear?