As luck would have it, when I happened across a migration of Santas I didn't have my camera. Frick! In bygone days, those hundreds of slightly drunk santas lumbering across the Burnside bridge would have been just a glimmering dream I tried to describe to people ("No, really: hundreds!"), but today, in the age of technology, of course, I found their blog. Santarchy, Santacon, it is a phenomenon that goes by various names. All across the country, the santas are gathering. There are pirate santas and superman santas, two-headed santas and stilt-walking santas, and I'm sure many other freakish varieties of santas. What do they do? I don't know. I think maybe they just meet somewhere and walk across town together, like performance art.
Alexandra and I were coming back from a girly day at the mall (saw a chic flick, bought matchling leg warmers -- really), driving through downtown Portland on the way back to her cool new apartment, and we saw a few straggling posses of santas here and there. Nothing too dramatic, just enough to make you say, "Hm. Santas." But after I dropped her off ("accidentally" keeping her pair of legwarmers, by the way, heh heh) I started seeing more. And more. It was jaw-dropping. So many fricking santas! And me without my camera! (My kingdom for a camera!!) I couldn't be bothered to go home and get it and go back out on santa safari, though the thought sort of flickered through my mind. But maybe next year I will know about it in advance, and Jim and I can become santas too. What kind, I wonder. Maybe devil santas. Or monkey santas.
In cookie news -- help! -- I can't stop baking! Latest: pecan mandelbrot (like biscotti) and chocolate crinkles. Plus the dough for chocolate mint sandwiches, filled with ganache and dipped in chocolate. Oy. And I keep thinking of more cookies I want to make! I simply must stop this madness.