While I'm waiting for ideas...

... I thought I might share with you what it's like to be a figment at this time of the year.

Christnukkahwanzaastice is a special time of year during which folks from all denominations agree to put aside their personal differences and try to make nice with one another. Obviously, this doesn't always work out, as judging by the fact that the 'Holiday Season' is witness to the highest number of suicides of the year. Still, people do their best to be merry and joyful and hall-deckers, fortified, no doubt, by copious amounts of egg nog/wassail/reefer/powdered reindeer hoof.

In general, this tends to be a fairly interesting time of year for me. A large portion of my substance is ethereal, and therefore subject to the metaphysics of imagination. Because imagination fuels all the good will of this Wintery time, I'm prone to all manner of morphological alterations.

For example: when loping along down Market Street, past, let's say, the Apple Store on the corner of Stockton, I sometimes find myself growing thinner, and leaner -- rangier, one might say, until I resemble nothing so much as a scrawny, underfed coyote. This is invariably due to the waves of avarice washing outward from the display window of the Apple Store, as Ye Merry Consumers peer inside at the bright and shiny toys that the establishment proffers. The sheer weight of Want generated by passersby engenders a corresponding change in me: I become the very embodiment of Need, all protruding ribs and salivation.

Needless to say, this is uncomfortable. Fortunately (or un-, as the case may be), directly across the street is the Virgin Megastore, over to where I stumble, seeking to fatten myself up on the emanations of Copious Greed and Smug Gluttony. If the Megawhore doesn't have it, then you, sir or madam, don't want it.

Too much time spent in the environs of that space, however, turns me into a bloated, corpulent thing, an UberTribble, barely able to move to escape, save for rolling ponderously downhill toward the Metreon, that bastion of hi-tech flights of fancy. Here, at least, surrounded by the rich energy of Creativity and Dreams (after all, the Metreon is home to a large cinema), I am able to resume my proper form, and pick up a nice boost of strength and substantiality at the same time.

That's just a snapshot of my day during the Festive Wossname. Many more changes await me, as I traverse the City helping smaller figments stuck in trees, having difficulty getting across the street, trapped in bottles, etc. It's not entirely without its dangers, but I find it invigorating. All I ask of you, Dear Reader, is that during your urban perambulations, you pay a little closer attention to your thoughts, your desires, and your fancies. You never know when I might be passing by, trying not to turn into something horrible, and, possibly, venereal.

mr. pibb plus red vines equals crazy delicious
-- Samberg and Parnell