It's 7am Christmas Eve and I'm sitting in the Seattle ferry terminal surrounded by various bags (laptop? check. suitcase? check. bag of gifts? check. purse? check.) I don't know who came up with the name, but Seattle's Best Coffee is anything but. It is much needed though. 1am bedtime and 5:37am wake up alarm? Oh yes.

The last few days have been spent running around the streets of Seattle seeing old (and newer) friends. This vacation seems like it's moving at the speed of molasses but I know I should be grateful for the time to clear my head. My fall-time insanity was in full swing by the time I boarded that airplane a few days ago.

So this is how today will go. Go to church, watch Dad preach. Go to Kent, watch aunts and uncles get hammered. Take pictures of cute baby cousins. Avoid questions about my job/love life/vegetarianism (it's been ten years, please stop asking.) The "adults" in the family decided we should do a gift exchange this year, but in true Wagner fashion, we'll be exchanging booze, not gift certificates or matching gloves and scarf sets. I failed to mention to my mom that my friends and I used to do something similar in college. Happy Fifthmas everyone.

I bought my dad the Page France record for Christmas. Last year he got Sufjan's Seven Swans and the year before it was the Polyphonic Spree. He's a long way from being Indie Rock Dad, but I'm trying slowly but surely. Nothing with cussing, nothing too crazy... My mom still hasn't latched onto Neko Case like I would like her to.

Boat time. Not the band.