Hypatia Avenue

"Ace...two...three...four...fiveFIVEfivefivefive [slap] ouchgeddofffuckinghellyoubrokemyfingerowowowow..."

While American troops were digging evil Middle Eastern dictators out of the ground over the weekend, our happy little household was more concerned with hurting each other late into the night in a few rounds of a particularly sadistic Chinese card game which is, if you can imagine it, a cross between slaps, snap and minor GBH. This along with a range of different poker games including the hilarious and psychologically scarring Mexican poker, was how we three saw through the weekend, oblivious to the international drama until Sunday afternoon.

I've spent most of the time since the news broke resolutely disbelieving that it is in fact Saddam, but I've abandoned the cod-X Files conspiracy theories involving genetically modified, alien hybrid doubles and badly scripted large scale government cover-ups and do truly believe it is Saddam they have captured. As yet, I've no opinion on what should happen to him now - all I am considering is the fact he is now available for questioning and it is now vital he is pumped for information until his lips bleed from the talking.

Has anyone else noticed how disoriented he looks in the footage shown on every news programme so far? Why did he allow filming? Why was he so docile? How did they administer the sedative and will they continue to drug him?

My sister arrived from France for her Christmas visit yesterday and I spent a jolly afternoon/evening with her and the rest of the family, making plans for the week she is here, although my hand was hurting right up to the wrist from our over-enthusiastic and absinthe inspired card-playing the night before and I was still feeling rather green. Top of the list of Fun!(tm) while sister is here is... a curry, a big feed at one of the fast food outlets not available in France, dim sum, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, vodka and orange juice, Bacardi Breezers, pubs and... Topshop. Though I won't be accompanying her there because I think that place is hell on earth and nothing, not even the range of shoes available there can make me spend more than one second beyond it's awful awful noisy crowded TV monitor-laden entrance.

In other news, I have almost completed my Christmas shopping and about to set off for my office party. Last night I finished one of three different presents I am crafting lovingly by hand and even though I resent and hate it, the spark of festive spirit and excitement in me is growing and getting hideously, horribly bright. I want to hug people and smile and wish everyone a happy Christmas time. Kill me. Please.