Seasonal weird

The forcible repression has begun, wherein I remind myself of all the things I should do/not do in order to make The Boy's nice, normal, small-town, occasionally very family-values family, um, not burn me at that pile of chopped-down tree behind the house. (You know, like swearing. Or upholding the rights of gays and minorities. Or mentioning my hobby of writing slash.) And I tell myself that I should do these things, really, and just avoid the potential trauma, which means days of, y'know, half-lying and deflecting questions ("so, what are you writing these days?" "oh, nothing for publication...") and keeping my mouth shut and not rising to the bait when the scary grandparents say really judgmental things. Ah, holidays, gotta love 'em. And most of the time I can't even play on the Internet to keep myself out of trouble. (Though, hey, this year I have the laptop, and headphones, and all the episodes of Atlantis on the hard drive, even if there's no Net connection in the house. Score!)

I guess I should take off the goth-club black nail polish before we drive down there on Thursday. *g*

In the meantime, I have a couple more days to screw around with capturing vid and attempting to screencap DH and JF in various and sundry roles. Question: if I'm capturing vid, does anyone really care about the parts that don't have the boys on screen? (Y'know, that "plot" thang.) Or are we all just in it for teh pretty?