John Scalzi was kind enough to include me in his "A Month of Writers" extravaganza over at The Whatever (which links back to my PrattPunk manifesto so, you know, it gets recursive). John's a fine writer, a stand-up guy who does a lot to support other writers, and he looks damn good in a tiara.

River slept seven hours last night. He woke up at the three-hour mark with a dirty diaper, which I changed -- and then he promptly fell right back asleep. That has never happened before. Usually once he wakes up, he's up for a while, but not this time. 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. Wow, that was heavenly. Heather and I both slept a ton.

Yesterday we went up to Holly's for brunch, and to watch our nephew Ali open his Xmas presents, of which he had approximately a metric ton (he was out of town with his dad on Xmas day itself). That was fun. Due to a wonderful confluence of New Year's and my day off, I have a five-day weekend (well, four days left ahead of me) -- don't go back to work until Thursday. Plans include working on my book, hanging out with my kid, playing Bioshock, playing World of Warcraft (which looks awesome on my new widescreen monitor), reading Dorothy Sayers, drinking champagne, and generally chilling. What a nice way to ring in a new year.