One deep eight-tooth laceration for the Road.

Much like the Bushies, I'm trying to turn the other cheek on the whole NSA story for a few days. Not to mention the pesky post-election realities in Iraq - it seems Ayad Allawi's about as graceful in losing elections as Dubya is in winning. But all the necessary parsing of these and the other end o' the Year stories (Bono and the Gates as "TIME" Persons of the Year...are you freakin' nuts?) will have to wait a teensy bit. We're packing up the family caravan and heading to my homeland, the Temporary Home o' Favre, for the Holidaze. Our flight leaves in a few hours. We're going for 5 days, but you'd think we were invading Winnepeg for all we're packing. And as I try to get a post up for you, beloved reader, Maya's making a game of biting my leg. Which makes me glad we picked up that BabyHannibal facemask for the trip. Expect regular updates over the Holidaze. Hope your own stockings are hung with care. Rock on.